427 - Regressor of the Fallen Family

Chapter 427 Seeing the children in the slums reminded me of my own challenging childhood. So, on my days off, I would gather food and clothes and head towards the slums. That was where I met her for the first time. – Ah, you're a knight of the palace! Blindingly radiant silver hair and sparkling blue eyes. The moment I saw her smiling at me, my heart started beating oddly. If only I had known then what that feeling was. – Sir Viktor, you're here again? Oh my, you've brought so much... The children will love it. Thank you. A woman who rejoiced in helping the slum kids as if it were her own mission. At first, seeing her age, I thought she was an ordinary priest. I was astonished to learn she was a bishop. – What does rank matter? I am a priest, meant to heal the pains of the world. Saying those words, she truly seemed to shine. That was the first time I realized there was a high-ranking priest who helped people without massive donations. And that a woman in a shabby priestly robe could look so beautiful. I thought I respected her deeply. Had someone told me back then that this flutter in my heart was love, would our relationship have changed even a little? – ...Sir Viktor? When I stood before her as she was being taken for a religious trial, had I expressed how elated I was that she recognized me by voice alone, would things have turned out differently? – Sir Viktor? – Yes, it is I. I've come to take you away. Please, let's leave. The expression of relief on her face when I went to rescue her from the temple. – Blood, there's blood...! No! – Please... The image of her pouring divine power into me after I collapsed from my duel with Max. – You must accept it. If not, you will witness the saintess taking her own life, Commander. Her courage in standing against the divine swords trying to restrain me. – Please tell them, even if things go wrong, I will not forget their kindness. I am truly grateful to you as well... I will not forget. The feelings for her that I realized too late. – Sir Viktor. Could you stay a moment? I have a personal request. – It's just a precaution against the worst-case scenario, really. If I am no longer myself... And even the ominous promise from that time. All the moments I spent with her were memories for me... and love. So. ‘This is something I must do.’ To prevent the uncontrollable tears from blurring his vision, Viktor opened his eyes even wider. The words that, back then, I couldn't understand properly and rejected. But when he saw the apostle, he felt the soul of Ilya screaming within. That was why he could stab her without hesitation. That was why he could not forgive the monster before him. Crack. Even with tears streaming down his face, Viktor drove the sword deeper. – Ugh, how... could you!? “I am here, Lady Ilya.” Despite his sobbing face, the gray aura buried in the heart of the saintess was intensifying. Even an apostle possessing a human body cannot escape the traits of life. As the sword imbued with gray aura pierced the heart, the surging blue light quickly lost its power. Whether it be Force, Circles, Classes, or Divine Power, all supernatural powers in this world are based on the heart. – Please, let Sir be the one to kill me. – ...What!? – It must not come to that, but if it does, when Sir stands before me, I will somehow create an opportunity. Please call my name once. Those words from back then, I can now fully understand. – You foolish wretch!!! In the apostle's eyes, yelling with a bizarre voice, I saw her soul shedding tears. Were those tears of joy, or of sorrow? Looking at her, Viktor too began to cry. “I... I am finally here, Lady Ilya. I'm sorry... truly sorry, hic.” Why she asked him, instead of her lord or anyone else, he didn’t know. Did she know his feelings, or was it simply because he was the closest superhuman? Either way, it no longer mattered. – Do you know the grave sin you are committing, insolent ones! Before he knew it, the apostle's expression hardened, looking up at the owner of the sword, shouting reproachfully. ‘This monster dares...!’ To Viktor, it was only a provocation, fanning his anger further. Yet looking at her face, precisely at Ilya’s soul within those eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to curse, holding back with all his might. Harman quietly spoke as he approached. “This commotion will have reached the outside. We must finish this quickly, Viktor.” Not swinging the sword himself was probably out of consideration for me. Even if the heart was pierced and incapacitated, the opponent was still an apostle. As soon as the sword was removed from the heart, it might regenerate. So we must sever the head. ‘...Yes, it must be done.’ Viktor also knew this well. He thought he was resolved enough. Yet... The moment he thought about it, his hands began to tremble. The creature’s eyes still held traces of her, remnants of Ilya. Severing the head would truly be the end. Even this final connection... Did he sense my hesitance? Harman stepped forward. “If it’s difficult, I will do it.” “No, no. I will...” As Viktor steeled himself again, biting his lip, the apostle also sensed his imminent end. – Haa, it can't be helped. Flash! As a burst of intense blue light exploded forth, a massive human-lizard figure appeared over Ilya’s body. “Ugh!” “Huff!” At that moment, when both Viktor and Harman were about to swing their swords, stopped by the oppressive spiritual pressure crushing their souls. – Arrogant fools. But do not think this is the end. Divine retribution will find you! As those words were spoken, a surge of blue light erupted, and the lizard-like being disappeared through the ceiling. However, a portion of that light split into two and struck both Harman and Viktor. “Hap!” With a sharp cry, Harman shook off the divine pressure and cut through the light, but Viktor, who was busy catching the collapsing body of Ilya, couldn't avoid it. Flash. “Ugh!” Instead of the intense impact he had braced himself for, a burning pain flared in his left hand, the one gripping the sword. When Viktor instinctively looked at his left hand, he noticed a blue inscription seared into his skin like a tattoo. Haeresis. “What?” “Haeresis, meaning heretic... It's like the gods themselves marked you as their enemy. If it was something like this, I would have just accepted it too,” Harman quipped with a wry smile. Yet the divine force—or rather, the curse's power—contained in those blue letters was no laughing matter. “Well, you won't be able to receive treatment based on divine law anymore, but for you, that shouldn’t be too much of a problem, right?” It wasn’t just because it was a mark of heresy. Harman could immediately sense that this tattoo would invert divine power. Despite Harman’s jest, Viktor’s gaze had already shifted to the fallen body of Ilya, lying in his arms. Her eyes seemed strangely vacant. With a small sigh, Harman patted Viktor's shoulder. “It’s time to draw your sword and send the saintess off.” Though it was a natural thing to say, Viktor merely mumbled with a blank expression. “She remains...” “What?” “...Her soul remains.” “What did you say?” “Lady Ilya’s soul is still present!” Whoosh. As he hastily drew his sword, a stream of blood gushed forth. The heart destroyed by aura was a severe injury that not even most high-ranking priests could easily heal, but here stood one who was beyond the ordinary. “Sir Harman! Please heal her! I beg you!” His tone was urgent. Understanding the sadness within, Harman quickly placed his hand on the saintess's chest. “I understand how you feel, but this is not the time...” If he gave it his all, he might be able to save her. The problem was that healing the physical wound was now meaningless. Her soul had already been devoured, and the being that had devoured it had ascended and vanished. Even if her body were to heal, she could not survive. Yet. “I am telling you, Lady Ilya's soul remains!! Please!” Seeing Viktor shouting desperately, Harman sighed and focused his divine power. Wooooong. And at that moment. “What?” Harman, who could perceive the strength of souls, confirmed that a faint part of her soul indeed remained. “How... how could you tell?” It was surprising. But that was all. The reason he hadn’t felt it earlier was simply that the soul was so faint. 'Not even one-tenth, no, one percent of its original size. This is hopeless.' Could someone survive with over 90% of their nerves or blood vessels ripped out? The absence of the soul is an even harsher wound. Wooooing. Crackle. Even if the heart wound healed without complications, the saintess would never open her eyes again. Contrary to the hopes of the young knight watching over her with a flushed face. Harman thought he should tell this young man the truth for his future’s sake. “...Without continuous energy supply, her heart will stop again by tomorrow. And even if that doesn't occur, there’s no guarantee—no, I’ll be blunt. She will not awaken.” But Viktor dismissed these concerns with a determined voice. “It doesn't matter. I will do it. I can feel Lady Ilya’s soul still speaking to me. I will endure. I can do it.” Eyes ablaze with hope. Harman was confident those eyes would slowly change to despair over time. ‘Should I really leave things as they are?’ Despite his inner turmoil... – The saintess's resting chamber!! – Damn it, where are all the holy knights!? The escalating commotion outside made it impossible for Harman to dissuade Viktor any longer. “Then carry the saintess's... her body. We must take her away from this temple or she might be consumed again by the god.” “Yes, of course.” “...Be swift.” Grabbing the papal adjudicator, Sentencia, Harman quickly leaped out of the window. Viktor, carrying Ilya’s body, followed like a shadow. On that morning, chaos erupted in the temple because of the former pope Austin, who awoke with a pallid complexion. The vanished pope, the missing sacred relics. The betrayal of the holy knights shook the entire congregation. “It can’t be!” “The Sacred Sword did?” “Why would the Commander?” “How come?” The immense shock swept through the holy city of Noviens and the whole world. Simultaneously, all sorts of rumors about the four missing sacred relics spread across the continent, weaving their own narrative. “It doesn’t seem like normal behavior, does it? Why would he?” “Could it be, like the pope of old...?” “Perhaps?” The rumor that black serpents' sorcerers had brainwashed the Sacred Sword to steal the relics mixed with his long-standing reputation and recent events, circulating the world almost as if it were the truth.