423 - Regressor of the Fallen Family

Chapter 423 Proposals flooded towards Logan: "Let's hold a victory ceremony in Gran," "Let's establish a commemorative day of triumph," and the like. However, he dismissed all these suggestions with a single sentence. “We don't know what's coming. All legions will remain on standby, ready to respond actively to any future changes in the political landscape.” His words anticipated the empire's potential second wave of attacks and McLaine's plans for imperial conquest. He expected some opposition, but surprisingly, there was none. Maintaining military positions and deploying vigilante groups would undoubtedly incur substantial costs, yet even Dwayne Pilsner didn't object. Instead, he said, [Then at least hold victory parties at each location!] Logan, in disbelief, had to ask several times, but Dwayne repeated the same line. ‘What’s gotten into this man?’ Eventually, once the imperial army had retreated beyond a three-day distance, the victory celebrations commenced, starting from Kyle Castle. Clang! “To the eternal flame's glory!” “Long live McLaine!” “Hurrah!” The air was filled with loud chatter and excitement. Everyone’s faces radiated unrestrained joy. Even Logan, amidst all the congratulations he received, had a grin. However, one person approached him wearing a serious expression. “Oh, Sir Heyman. You truly helped us in the last battle...” “Your Majesty, I have an urgent plea.” Heyman, or rather Harman Killebrew, the sacred sword bearer, spoke in a gravely solemn tone. The story that unfolded from there was profoundly shocking. * * * “…The gods told you to kill me? That I'm the incarnation of Jibrick Kassel?” Even incredulity has its limits. Faced with an abruptly injected mythological claim, Logan let out a hollow laugh. Harman bit his lip. He had painstakingly arranged a private meeting; it wouldn’t suffice to have it dismissed as senseless rambling. “I understand how unbelievable it must seem. But...” “No, no. Just a moment…” Interrupting Harman, Logan fell into deep thought. He wanted to dismiss it as nonsense. Still, it was the sacred sword bearer speaking. Moreover, he had once almost lost his body to the spirit of his ancestor, Jibrick Kassel. Considering the speaker's status and his experiences, this outrageous claim could very well be true. 'Damn it!' What Victor had called a mistake wasn't a mistake at all. Logan pressed his suddenly throbbing temples and asked again. “…So I am destined to become Jibrick Kassel’s incarnation? That's what you were told?” It seemed to Harman that Logan was believing the otherwise unbelievable story. Harman’s face brightened slightly. Advertisements “Yes. However, there's a high likelihood the holy maiden is also being controlled by a divine spirit. Perhaps these accursed relics are the mediums.” Harman glanced disdainfully at the Ricentia, which he couldn't yet remove from his neck. His appearance made it glaringly obvious that his previously unwavering faith had completely turned on its head. Being nearly consumed by a spirit had been a horrifying experience for him, evident from his demeanor. And, – He said if he couldn't answer that question correctly, to consider him no longer himself and an enemy. Victor’s claim had been true as well. Logan bit his lip tightly and questioned a lingering doubt. “Was there anything else? Like Jibrick Kassel’s spirit vanishing?” “…Except it would revive through you. Oh, and if the Great Demon, the Grand Mage were to resurrect, they would eradicate all faith from this land.” “…I see.” “Is there something I should know?” Sensing something in Logan’s voice, Harman asked, but no immediate answer followed. ‘Eradicating faith…’ Understanding the power of belief, Logan could somewhat grasp why the gods would take such drastic measures. ‘The Nine Gods are merely higher-dimensional beings needing the power of faith, not true gods.’ The memories shown by Jibrick Kassel’s spirit struck a chord in his heart, shattering the lingering remnants of faith he had. Alongside the sacred sword Vanitas, the final cry that Jibrick left behind flashed in his mind. – Who dares tamper with my creations... – I will never relent... ‘I never thought it would truly end that way.’ Logan chewed on his lip again. It seemed more plausible that Jibrick’s spirit lingered, given that the gods didn’t know he had obliterated that spirit. There were two more relics of the Grand Mage he saw in his past life, excluding the sacred sword. Does this mean there are two more pieces of Jibrick's spirit? ‘To split a spirit into pieces and still maintain self-awareness?’ Now having fully harnessed the power of the spirit himself, he knew how preposterous that was. But considering Harman's words and Jibrick’s last utterance, that implausible hypothesis seemed like the truth. ‘Demigods, demigods indeed.’ The demigods Jibrick displayed in his life—the omnipotent ones wielding 9th-class magic—flashed through his mind. Those who could level mountains with a gesture and rebuild them with another. In today’s terms, they wielded the power to casually use extinction-level magic, equivalent to the ruinous light that the Emperor, a grand sorcerer, created with countless magic crystals and artifacts. Even if those recollections were half true, such monstrous entities would render military forces irrelevant. Though not logical, if they were such monsters, it might make sense that their spirit could be divided and contained. The real issue, however, was that the nine most outstanding among them ascended to become gods, and now they aimed to kill him. Based on their insane criteria, that is. The small comfort was that they couldn't intervene directly. Based on Jibrick's memories, those beings who had transcended to a higher dimension could influence the mortal world primarily through divine power or... Advertisements “...I have one question. How much do you know about apostles, Sir Harman?” “Pardon?” Harman's expression tightened at the sudden inquiry. Still, the answer flowed naturally from his lips. “A saint graced by divine favor, able to perform miracles in representation of the gods’ will….” Reciting the teachings he'd received since childhood, Harman suddenly paused, as if realizing something, and questioned Logan. “…Are you saying this soul possession phenomenon results in apostleship?!” “To my knowledge, yes.” Logan, bracing for questions about how he knew such things, was caught off guard by Harman’s unexpected response. “Then, what you're saying is… all the apostles documented in the Church's history…?” Perhaps it was the deep-rooted distrust that had settled in Harman's heart. Seeing Harman accept his words so readily made Logan more determined. “Could others become apostles by acquiring holy relics, just as you nearly did?” For priests, or even devout believers across the continent, such talk would earn scorn and accusations of blasphemy. However, Harman, with a stern expression, fell into deep thought and then cautiously spoke. “…It seems possible. If it's the interaction between relics and divine power, high-level priests should be capable of achieving that. Although it might take some time.” “Then it's conceivable the saintess could use relics to create more apostles. How...” It was a troubling thought. Logan wasn't sure about the combat prowess of these apostles. However, Jibrick Kassel, who aspired not just to reach the state of the demigods but to become a deity himself, was thwarted by nine apostles. If even half the tales told of these mythological figures, said to appear once every few centuries, were true, they would be an overwhelming calamity. Especially when the empire's issues weren't fully resolved, it seemed almost impossible to handle such a threat. “Ha…” Rubbing his face with a dry hand, Logan heaved a deep sigh before a potential solution dawned on him. “Ah! Is it possible to inform the gods that I've already defeated Jibrick Kassel’s spirit? That I can do so again in the future…?” Harman promptly shook his head at the hopeful suggestion. “…The gods won't believe it. If they trusted the power or words of humans, they wouldn't have attempted to possess my soul. Nor would they leave your eradication to my discretion.” Harman’s response was firm and unwavering. As a priest whose faith had been invalidated by its very source, only distrust remained. “A priest who doesn't believe in the gods... Why are you asking me for help? Can't you just leave the temple?” “Even if they aren't true gods, there are people who maintain peace by putting their faith in them and following them. If my foreboding instincts are correct, the gods will go to any lengths to deal with you and Kassel's Tower, regardless of the desires of those involved.” Logan could see the plausibility in his words. If such an opposition were directed at him and the kingdom, they might find themselves not only against the empire but also facing the very realms of the divine. Harman seemed to share the same thoughts. “If I report my failure, the Holy Kingdom might declare war immediately.” “…That seems likely.” “Therefore, before that happens, the saintess, or rather Amun’s incarnation, must be removed from the core of the Church.” Advertisements A bold declaration, signaling the Holy Kingdom's sword being turned on itself. Yet, given the circumstances, Logan understood it as the best strategy he had. Moreover, he suspected he knew what Harman was asking. “…Are you asking for help in killing the saintess?” “I've heard you two have a connection. However, once a soul is completely overtaken, there's no turning back. I'm sure you know this even better than anyone.” Harman’s earnest, transparent gaze met Logan’s, compelling him to nod. ‘The essence of being—wounds etched on the soul cannot be undone.’ That was why he had initially dismissed the idea that Jibrick Kassel could split his soul into three parts. Could such a feat be possible if one reached the level of the demigods? Logan recalled the still-recovering Clayton and sighed again. Interpreting his sigh as a refusal, Harman hurriedly spoke again. “It doesn’t require an army; even a single transcendent would suffice. No, even just one person to aid me would be enough. As you’ve probably noticed, I'm not in the best condition…” “…The kingdom’s transcendents are under significant global scrutiny. Moving them inadvertently would be risky. While I once feigned injury to move, my current condition truly prevents much action.” No one else could alter their aura like him. But currently, he had to be cautious even with the simplest use of Force, let alone aura. Then Harman added in a careful tone. “…Does it have to be a feigned injury? I've heard there are transcendent warriors known to be gravely injured.” “Well, that's because they actually… Ah!” First thinking of his master and frowning deeply, Logan soon let out a shout. “Yes. Sir Victor, for instance, might have already recovered. Let’s send him.” “…Very plausible. Yet, there's no guarantee Victor will accept. As you know, he’s quite close to the saintess.” Truthfully, their relationship went beyond mere closeness. Logan intuitively aware that Victor harbored feelings for Ilia extending beyond respect, found Harman's suggestion rather tricky. Yet, Harman's following words seemed fairly persuasive. “It's not about killing the saintess; it's avenging the already-deceased saintess. Sir Victor might understand.” “That… could indeed be convincing. Alright then, I’ll consult him.” As Logan nodded, Harman carefully added another remark. “And I apologize, but I have another request.” “Hm?” “We need to buy time before the saintess, or rather the apostle, makes any drastic decisions.” “That makes sense. So, how can I assist you?” “Your Majesty... I need you to die.” Logan's expression shifted subtly that night. At Kyle Castle, one transcendent suddenly vanished, and simultaneously, a shocking rumor swept through the world. Logan MacLaine, King of MacLaine, had been ambushed. He was critically injured and fighting for his life. The assailant was an unidentified transcendent—Harman.