426 - Regressor of the Fallen Family

Chapter 426: The Start of the Operation Almost Went Awry "The instructions came from Lord Seongha? Well, even if they didn’t, if it helps Captain Harmon, I’d gladly hand it over. Here you go." Contrary to expectations, Priest Jyle willingly handed over the relic Terra, shaped like a rosary. The problem arose shortly after. "I’d gladly hand it over if Captain Harmon wishes... O, Ouch!" As they were about to receive the relic Flamma, shaped like a hall, from Austin, an anomaly appeared. His eyes began to glow red, and his holy power surged suddenly. "What the...!?" The moment Harmon noticed this, he drew his sword. Slice. – Fi... ugh! Curse you! Austin’s wrist, holding the crimson-glowing relic, was severed, and a ghastly scream erupted from his mouth. Victor merely grimaced at the unsettling voice, feeling an aversion. "Cough!" Harmon, as if struck by another force, spat a mouthful of blood. "Sir Harmon!" "I'm... I'm fine. Do what needs to be done!" His face turned ashen in an instant, but there was no time to argue over how he looked. – Something’s strange inside...! – Captain!? Urgent voices sounded from outside, and soon the door was flung open, knights charging in. But what they saw was the stern visage of Harmon and his companion, nothing more. “There is nothing amiss. Resume your duties.” Fortunately, after the initial outcry, Austin, eyes rolling back, collapsed as if unconscious. With Harmon and Victor being large men, it wasn’t difficult for them to shield the small priest from view. “Yes, yes. Understood.” Creak. Only after the knights exited, closing the door behind them, did Harmon and Victor let out sighs of relief. “Phew... I thought my heart was going to stop.” "The timing was impeccable. Luckily, we severed the connection just in time." At those words, Victor looked again at the fallen priest. Though he had ascended to the papacy, he’d been brainwashed and used by the Kassel Tower before retiring. And now, his soul was being devoured by a deity... The blood pooling from the severed wrist made the elderly priest appear pitiful. Yet, despite knowing Austin for longer than Victor had, Harmon showed no hesitation in his actions. “Gather the relics. Let's move Austin to the bed.” Buzz. While Harmon used sacred power to staunch the flow from Austin's wrist and aura to clean the bloodstained floor, Victor lifted the frail old man and gently laid him on the bed. After covering him with a blanket, the priest, with his pallor, appeared merely asleep. “…Will he never awaken?” “No, that’s not it. I don't know how shocked he is, but a few days at most. We couldn't save the wrist, but…” “Was that truly necessary...?” “It had to be done. Look at this accursed necklace that won’t even fall. If it was my hand, I might have severed it myself. This is better for him.” Buzz. Observing the relic exuding its presence from Harmon's neck, Victor nodded with a determined expression. Having watched Victor in silence, Harmon spoke words he had repeated countless times, just in case. “I’ll say it again, those whose souls are consumed cannot be saved. You do know that…?” “I’m aware.” Victor’s swift reply interrupted Harmon. Yet, thinking of the meeting he was destined for, his steps hesitated. 'Can I... truly do this to her...?' Countless resolutions had been made. Why was he faltering now? Harmon, perceiving Victor’s inner turmoil, patted his shoulder instead. “If you’re unable to wield your blade, perhaps it’s better to leave now. I will handle it someway.” “How would you do that...?” “Somehow!” The resolute voice steadied Victor’s wavering eyes. The conviction that killing the saintess was true salvation was conveyed once more through Harmon’s words. It strengthened Victor’s weakening resolve again. Exhaling deeply, Victor spoke with determination. “Let’s go.” “Truly...” “I will give her peace. I promise.” “...Very well.” With that, the two quickened their pace, reaching the pope's residence in less than ten minutes. More magnificent and beautiful than most small palaces, the pope's abode shimmered beautifully in the night, under the influence of protective barriers. A luxurious palace that had even led past popes to refuse residence due to its opulence. Yet, now the only ones guarding its entrance were two knights. As they approached, one of them, vice-captain Line Harper, bowed stiffly. “You have arrived, Captain.” “Where are the others?” “They are patrolling the perimeter as per orders.” There were only those two knights left in the palace. “...Aren’t you curious why I ordered this?” “If it were something I needed to know, you would have told me.” Line Harper’s unhesitating response was met with a nod and a smile from his companion. Their unwavering faith deepened Harmon's sense of guilt, leaving him momentarily speechless. “Whatever happens, say that I commanded it all. Because that’s the truth.” “That is my intention. So do not worry, Captain.” After staring at the forced smile on his vice-captain’s face for a while, Harmon finally bit his lip, patted the man on the shoulder, and turned away. There was no more time to delay. “Let’s go.” Seeing Harmon’s resolute gaze, Victor silently moved forward. Tat tat tat. The hushed sound of their footsteps seemed to be the only noise permeating the empty palace halls. 'Kassandra and Evelyn seem to have done a splendid job.' As Victor tried to calm his racing heart with distractions, the papal chambers came into view. And before them stood two handmaidens, gripping toolboxes brimming with everyday items, looking anxious. – She’s inside. – The room’s been cleared. Their silent lip-synced report received nods from Victor and Harmon. Judging by the bloodstains on their aprons, it hadn’t been easy, but these were precisely the kind of situations they were chosen for. Success was all that mattered. Just as Victor was mulling over these thoughts, Harmon’s voice reached the two female knights’ ears. [Escape first and head straight for McClaine. Victor and I will make our way back. On no account should you take the route you initially used to get here. Not a single time.] The art of communicating without speaking. Previously, when Victor had inquired about it, all he received was the vague response that such mastery could be achieved by those who handled the power of the soul. The sight of Harmon adding that Victor’s lord would soon find it even easier left him too melancholy to press further. Naturally, Kassandra and Evelyn's eyes widened at the unfamiliar skill, but neither of them wavered. With a nod following Victor's hand signals, they darted towards the palace exit like the wind. Tat-tat-tat. Once they were safely around the corner and out of sight, Harmon opened the door to the papal chamber. Creak. The door swung open to reveal an expansive room, remarkable for a personal chamber. And there, bathed in the moonlight streaming through the window, sat the saintess on a grand bed, adorned in pristine white ceremonial robes embossed with nine circles, her face framed by the magistrate's Sentinel. ‘She was ready for us?’ As Harmon’s eyebrows twitched in surprise, the saintess spoke. “If Anima’s warning had come a moment later, I might’ve been caught completely off guard.” Her voice was calm, while a bluish aura began swirling around her. Clearly, the news of Austin’s wrist being severed had swiftly reached Amunda, setting off this chain of events. ‘Loose-lipped deity...’ With gritted teeth, Harmon cursed the stark contrast between Aria’s reserved nature and Anima’s meddlesome behavior. But retreat was no longer an option. “To halt the war these false gods wage, who whimsically possess human bodies—there is no other way.” Part provocation, part a reminder to someone behind him, these words left Harmon’s lips. As he slightly raised his sword, his face showed no hint of hesitation. Yet, the intended provocation was deftly ignored. “Who would have thought you resisted Aria’s possession, Captain Harmon.” Before her composed tone could settle, it morphed grotesquely and unleashed a surge of blue energy that rushed towards them in a monstrous wave. Whoosh—BOOM! The painstaking effort to clear the area was in vain, as the room exploded with deafening blasts. The papal residence, unscathed for over three centuries, was abruptly devastated. Crash—Rumble... The buildings, protected by holy barriers, luckily didn’t collapse immediately. Amidst the frenzy, two figures broke through the torrents of blue energy, nearly simultaneously. Leading the charge was Harmon, naturally. 'Damn it...' Grinding his teeth, he tightened his grip on his sword. His power was dwindling, his soul half-consumed, unable to draw on his full sacred strength, reducing his capability to barely a fraction. Through meticulous tests since that day, Harmon had discovered that the divine power now residing within prioritized his will over the deity’s, possibly a boon of learning to wield the power of the soul. Thus, Harmon was able to summon nearly 40% of his former strength. Though just a shadow of his prime before being dispatched to McLain, it was still formidable enough, approaching the pinnacle of an aura user’s capabilities. Yet despite this advantage, doubt was creeping in. The first assault from the apostle was far beyond expectations. ‘Such unbelievable power...’ The force wielded was on a level far surpassing most archmages, now manifesting Harmon’s worst fears: that the apostle’s combat prowess could rival the greatest of sorcerers. As if that wasn’t enough, Victor beside him was shouting nonsensically. “Ilia! I have come!” Advertisements In stark contrast to just moments ago, the young man now revealed, his blue and red heterochromia and shimmering azure hair, filled with overwhelming divine fury, spoke with deep sorrow. Harmon couldn’t help but lament. ‘Oh no...’ Did he truly harbor lingering attachments? ‘Proper assistance is imperative.’ With the enemy being likened to an archmage, Victor’s superior strength was indispensable to carry out their plan and defeat the apostle. It would be tough to inflict any significant damage with mere mid-level prowess, but spreading the enemy’s attacks and holding the line were well within his capabilities. Not to mention, he possessed exceptional endurance and regenerative abilities for his class. However, such sentiments as he displayed would only serve as a hindrance. Murderous intent flickered in Harmon’s piercing blue eyes. He was ready to cut down the young prodigy if need be should he sabotage their mission. But at that moment, something unexpected caught his eye. – Get lost! “Ilia! I have come as ‘promised’!” Victor’s desperate cries caused the surging divine power to waver. A flash of gray aura, weaker yet unwavering, sliced through the blue divine force and pierced the apostle's form. Eyes wide, the apostle blinked. Tears streamed down the youthful warrior’s face as he swung his sword. The strange yet profoundly poignant scene etched itself deeply into Harmon's mind.