451 - Regressor of the Fallen Family

Chapter 451 "What did you say?" "I asked for your assistance in capturing the apostate Harmon Killerbrew." The elderly priest bowed respectfully toward Logan. The words of the old priest, who introduced himself as Archbishop Raimdal of the Temple of Luspelheim, were utterly perplexing. Apostate. "That divine sword wielder is an apostate... I’d heard rumors, but..." Had it only been rumors? In fact, he had been deeply involved in one of the biggest incidents related to it. However, the reason why someone as skilled as Harmon was openly being pursued remained a mystery. 'Was it because of his quest to collect relics?' Naturally, he couldn't express his inner thoughts openly. "What exactly happened?" At this question, Archbishop Raimdal could only bow his head, a cold sweat running down his face. Since becoming an archbishop, how many times had he lowered his head so unilaterally? Despite the awkward and embarrassing situation, his response was swift. "As it pertains to the central temple, I am not privy to the specifics. I am merely relaying the 'request' of His Holiness, the interim Pope Austin." Logan chuckled softly at these words. "So, we're to follow without knowing the reason because it's the temple speaking?" "No, not at all! How could one dare utter such words to the Sun of Mclaine? It's a very earnest and respectful request." "In that case, I can refuse." "…Pardon?" Logan coldly smiled at the wide-eyed old priest. "I wonder what you expected, but it seems the temple is unaware that we are in the midst of a war." As Logan spoke and turned his back, the golden aura that had been filling the entire training ground slowly began to dissipate. Thud. "What do you think I'm doing right now?" Gauntlets lightly tapping on armor and the sword held in his hand. Raimdal was sweating not merely because of Logan's status. Except for receiving reports on war preparations, Logan was always in the training ground continuing his practice. It was Raimdal who had come adamantly to see Logan. "Of course, I understand the circumstances are not favorable. But, considering the goodwill of us providing 'healers'…" "You want us to offer our elite forces to capture the sacred sword wielder in the midst of preparing for war?" "If you do so, the temple will never forget the favor." "What nonsense." "Pardon?" Logan scoffed slightly. 'I would sooner help Harmon than aid the temple.' In his heart, he wanted to say it boldly, but openly antagonizing the temple in the current situation was too risky. However, there was no need to kowtow either. 'We have nothing to fear.' In any case, the 'interim' Pope cannot revoke the orders given by the previous Pope. This implied that the military priests currently with the Mclaine forces under the guise of 'healers' would remain until this war ended, no matter whether it turned out well or not. Logan had heard much about Austin, who was also the previous Pope. He was not someone who twisted rules to his advantage. Logan, as the King, had no choice but to speak the words that had to be said. "We cannot afford to waste national resources on extraneous matters just before war. Mclaine has already fulfilled its duty by helping the Sacred Nation protect Noviens in the past. I hope the temple will consider our situation." His words started with a casual tone and concluded with the dignity of formal speech. For a king, especially one of Mclaine, which had risen as the major power of the continent, to speak this way made it difficult for the Archbishop to press further. Knowing it was a difficult request, Raimdal had approached with a faint hope and had no choice but to retreat. "I shall convey your words as they are." "Ah, but the very fact you came to me at this time means the sacred sword is nearby?" "…Yes, specifically, he is heading towards Kyle Fortress in the kingdom. There may be some commotion there, so we ask for your understanding." "Kyle?" Why there? Faced with Logan’s gaze, the archbishop wore a troubled expression and shook his head. "You have refused to help, so I cannot say more, Your Majesty." It was likely a bait, an attempt to catch Logan's interest by the archbishop. But Logan was unwilling to fall for such an obvious ploy. "Hmm, understood. Do take care on your way." "…Yes. Then." Logan brushed off his curiosity with a light nod, or at least acted as if he did. Once the Archbishop had left the training ground, Logan sat in deep thought. "Someone as skilled as Harmon revealing his destination while acting alone? And why Kyle?" He didn’t seem like the type to be so thoughtless. Logan felt uneasy. The strange sense of suffocation that had swept over him recently returned to lay heavily in his chest. At this moment, he could not simply ignore the feeling, especially knowing the dangers entwined with the gods and himself. To think Harmon's sudden action had no relation at all was even stranger. Maybe, the inexplicable unease he felt earlier was connected to this matter. ‘The Nine Gods…’ The immense anxiety led to one inevitable conclusion. He should help. However, there was an issue. 'How can I assist Lord Harmon without drawing notice...?' No matter how he considered it, only one option emerged. * * * The citizens of the Empire of Luspelheim began to experience a chilling phenomenon. [Obey the control until the end of the war. There will be no trouble if you do.] This was not a threat, a proclamation, nor words shouted by knights or soldiers. It was the conqueror's voice striking directly into their minds. The “Continent's Best” they had only heard of in rumors or seen from afar was speaking directly to each of them. “Yes, yes. Of course! Naturally!” “Honey, why did you suddenly kneel...?” “You must do it quickly!” "No, no. It doesn't feel that frightening..." "Oh, come on!" Just as the citizens of Luspelheim were beginning to calm after enduring daily fears, a sudden voice echoing in their minds sent them scurrying to the ground in panic. Indoors or out on the streets, it didn't matter where they were. Many of those who harbored resentment towards Mclaine found themselves inexplicably pledging to obey, experiencing something unprecedented and beyond their comprehension. Remarkably, after this occurred, they began to feel strangely at ease, and the sight of the conquerors' fiery insignia no longer incited fear. Instead, there was a peculiar sense of security stemming from the knowledge that others shared the same voice. The citizens of Luspelheim, who had been under extreme tension, unconsciously hoped this newfound peace would endure. Soon, their hope transformed into favor towards the voice's owner. The next morning. [Do not hinder the people of Luspelheim from gathering. Only the possession of weapons is forbidden.] No one doubted the words reverberating in their minds yet again. How could there be deception in the voice transmitted directly into their minds? Citizens who had been trembling in fear of war began to cautiously open the doors they had kept securely locked, stepping outside one by one. "…Is it really okay?" "What? It seems fine!" Creak. Citizens cautiously stepping into the streets. Under the watchful eyes of Mclaine soldiers scattered around, they met with acquaintances for the first time in a while. Naturally, their conversations revolved around the owner of the voice. "…They say he's a hero bestowed by the gods, and now I believe it." "Yes, how could there be such a sense of calm..." "Not even the temple gave this feeling." "Hey, that's pushing it." "Not quite wrong though..." The buzz of conversation. The streets of Luspelheim were gradually coming back to life. Unbeknownst to the citizens, their hostility towards the Mclaine army was noticeably diminishing. And this transformation directly empowered someone within the fortress. Vroom. "The power of belief... I can’t believe it's actually possible. It's hard for me to accept." Logan felt the intense return of force he had depleted during a night of intense training, allowing himself a derisive laugh. The restoration of force wasn't the only transformation. His spirit was subtly but surely uplifted. Even at that moment, his level was gradually rising. The experiment had succeeded. "I didn't expect it to go this far..." Of course, the current limit was enveloping just this city within his sensory reach by fully harnessing the power of his soul. But should that power magnify several times over, or even tens of times... And if it were there, amidst the abundant devotion of people—say, in the heart of Mclaine itself... 'The limits of an Aura Master. Surpassing those limits no longer seems unattainable.' He found himself wondering why the Sword Saints and other Aura Masters hadn't surpassed these limits, but the answer wasn't far-fetched. '…None of the previous Aura Masters were kings.’ Throughout history, even counting unverified legends, only five recorded Aura Masters exist. The first Aura Master, rumored to have slain a wicked dragon to save the world in ancient times—likely a distorted version of the Sword Saint's legend. The hero known as the Demon King Slayer, who halted the expansion of the demon forest 700 years ago. Bren Dicaide, the War God who laid the foundation of the empire upon appearing in the Ares Kingdom 500 years ago. Solon Ereoh, the guardian of the Gaia Kingdom who thwarted the Ares Empire's western expansion 200 years ago. And Jerome Dicaide, destined to reach that realm 20 years from now if history had stayed its course. Even counting the scenario of his previous life, there are only five. Setting aside the nameless Sword Saint and Demon King Slayer, who were subordinates of a king or emperor, none of the remaining three served as kings. Regardless of their achievements, the hearts of soldiers, of subjects, would never entirely align with them. Even the Sword Saint, who supposedly wielded the power of aspirations, failed to surpass his limits, supporting that hypothesis as the most plausible. "Yes. That must be it." Additionally, his ability to handle this power with surprising ease might be due to the immense power of aspirations granted upon his return. “What do you mean by that, Your Majesty?” A voice suddenly interrupted his endless train of thought, shattering it instantly. "Ah... I kept you waiting." Damian, momentarily forgotten, was pacing nervously with an anxious expression. "Yes, please tell me the important thing quickly. I'm so worried my legs are already shaking." Perhaps not entirely a joke, Damian's face was pale as he wetted his dry lips with each word he spoke. Though his tone and attitude were far from formal for a conversation with the king. "…It's not something to worry so much about." The king, who had many sins and more yet to commit, could only divert his gaze afar. "…Why are you so readily agreeable? And why turn your eyes away? I'm really starting to worry like crazy. Whatever it is, seriously don't do it!" "…I haven't said anything yet." "Anything! Anyway, don't do it!! The war is scheduled to start in just two months!" Damian, who had confidently presented himself as a reliable strategist until recently, suddenly resembled a child, leaving Logan to chuckle softly to himself. 'A sharp intuition can be a burden.' And this lad, he seems to slowly be picking up Rick's characteristics too. 'I should probably warn him against associating too closely with Rick.' Logan knew there would be opposition, but Damian's extreme reaction was enough to make Logan seek a brief escape from reality. But upon seeing the earnest look in Damian's eyes, Logan quickly refocused and broached the main topic carefully. "I'll be gone for 'just a brief moment', so create a double for me. Since Rick has experience with it before, he's currently in Gran..." "Your Majesty!!!" Damian's despairing shout erupted before Logan could finish his sentence.