Chapter 31
Holy Relic (1)
Silence descended upon the mountain that had been so tumultuous moments before. The explosions and thunderous crashes had vanished completely. No birds chirped, and not a single animal cry could be heard.
The mountain was as silent as death. Every sound produced by living creatures had evaporated.
Was this what nature would look like if all vitality were drained from it? Surveying the devastation around her, Ilea spoke.
“It turned into a wasteland in an instant. It used to be quite beautiful.”
The verdant hues that had once made up the forest had been replaced by black ash and pallid smoke. The refreshing scent of the trees had long since been overwhelmed by the stench of death.
Most of the plants and animals had either died or disappeared.
It was the result of a clash between two transcendent beings.
Gaf spoke.
“...In the end, he’ll turn the entire world into a place like this. Johan, together with that demon.”
“That won’t happen. Life can’t sprout in a wasteland like this. Humans wouldn’t survive either. And without them, demons would lose their reason to exist. Do you truly think Johan would want such an ending?”
“The Apostles desire humanity’s extinction. Demons are nothing more than their lackeys. Why would Johan be any different?”
With an enigmatic smile, Ilea pointed straight ahead.
“Doesn’t he seem a little different?”
Johan was walking toward them. Lifeless trees stood densely around him, creating an eerie scene.
Johan’s appearance only added to the bleak atmosphere.
Gaf stared at him in horror.
“N-no... Could that thing in your hand possibly be...?”
Ilea smiled in satisfaction.
“Johan isn’t an Apostle’s lackey.”
Johan was dragging Beris along by his hair.
It was an almost impossible sight to believe. Having personally experienced an Apostle’s overwhelming presence, Gaf could hardly accept what he was seeing as reality.
Johan smirked.
“What is that idiotic expression for?”
Gaf couldn’t answer. He was too stunned and stood frozen stiff.
Ilea spoke.
“You’re being too cruel to Father. This is genuinely shocking, isn’t it?”
Johan shrugged.
“And yet you seem rather calm.”
“Do I? I’m not. I was terribly surprised too.”
She theatrically caressed her chest and added,
“I thought my heart was going to stop.”
Johan snorted.
“Enough. Let’s finish what we came here to do.”
He intended to begin by collecting the pieces of the Great Saint’s corpse.
Just as Johan was about to move, a scream-like shout reverberated through the mountains.
“You wretch! Release me this instant!”
Still held by the hair, Beris thrashed wildly.
“This is blasphemy! You will not be able to bear the consequences!”
He struggled like a madman, but he couldn’t escape Johan’s grip.
Shaperia had slashed his entire body to pieces, leaving him in a state from which he could no longer recover.
Johan’s lips curled into a long smile.
“Before I have to bear the consequences of your wrath, don’t you have something to take responsibility for first?”
Beris had failed to fulfill his contract with Johan. Having failed to annihilate Shaperia, he would now have to pay a dreadful price.
“H-how dare you!”
“I’m greatly looking forward to seeing you reduced to an imp.”
Beris would devolve into an infant demon. Even in the original story, he had suffered the same humiliation after failing to uphold a contract with a mortal.
His already enormous eyes swelled even further and trembled violently.
“You... From the very beginning...”
Ilea smiled innocently.
“An imp with the potential to become an Apostle. May I make him my familiar? If you permit it, I’ll train him to be useful to you, Johan.”
Ilea had lost the old hag spirit because of Shaperia. She did need a new familiar.
However, Johan could not entrust Beris to her.
That was because he was the Apostle who presided over contracts.
He might secretly tamper with the contract between Ilea and me.
It would hardly be difficult for her if she made use of Beris.
Johan answered in a somewhat cold tone.
“No. You know the reason as well as I do.”
Ilea pretended to look dejected.
“That’s unfortunate, but it can’t be helped.”
“Are you disappointed?”
“No. If anything, I like how cautious you are.”
Her tone sounded as though she were evaluating him.
Just as Johan was about to respond, Beris interrupted.
“...How utterly laughable. Do creatures incapable of even overcoming their own mortality truly believe they can possess me? You are a thousand—no, ten thousand years too soon!”
Black blood streamed from his eyes.
“I will never forget the humiliation I suffered today. I will dwell upon it again and again until it is carved into my very bones.”
His resentful voice sank into a low growl. It was so cold and sharp that it felt as though an awl were gouging into their eardrums.
Johan instinctively released Beris’s hair.
At that moment, Beris’s body shot into the sky. Beneath the full moon, his malice began to surge as though it were exploding.
Like a star at the end of its life, Beris grotesquely swelled. Black demonic energy continuously erupted from every mottled bulge rising across his body.
“I swear upon the name of Beris! I shall grant you an end more dreadful than death. You will scream and repent for all eternity!”
Crimson magic circles adorned the night sky.
Contract magic was being engraved into the worldline itself.
Gaf, who had been watching, vomited a mouthful of blood. Ilea’s expression turned ice-cold.
Johan clicked his tongue.
“Even divided into ten pieces, an Apostle is still an Apostle. I suppose he won’t be so easy to claim.”
Beris unleashed a final, agonized scream.
“Await the Day of Judgment! Repent, and repent again!”
Immediately afterward, Beris’s body exploded. It transformed into black demonic energy and scattered across the night sky.
Gaf collapsed to the ground and breathed heavily.
“W-what in the world just happened?”
Ilea let out a small sigh.
“Unfortunately, he chose annihilation.”
“There are still nine souls left, so this can hardly be called annihilation.”
“All of them will come after you, Johan.”
“I’m not afraid in the slightest. Beris will never be whole again.”
One of his ten souls had unquestionably been destroyed.
Even if the remaining nine were all resurrected, Beris would never be able to wield his full power.
That gain alone was sufficient.
Trying to make him a familiar was simply too greedy.
Putting his regret behind him, Johan walked toward the coffin.
“Let’s wrap this up.”
The aftermath of what had just happened still lingered, but Ilea did her best to speak calmly.
“I’ve already disarmed everything.”
All that remained was to open the lid.
Johan nodded and opened the coffin.
His expression contorted violently. An immense amount of holy power lay coiled inside it.
Had it not been for Kazan’s Ring, Johan would have fainted on the spot.
“Gaf, I need your help.”
The light was so intense that his demonic eyes couldn’t even look inside.
Gaf approached with a grim groan.
“What do you want me to do?”
“There should be a golden model shaped like an eyeball. Take it out.”
Gaf slowly extended his arm. His hand was trembling violently.
Johan clicked his tongue.
“Why hesitate after coming this far? Stop dawdling and bring it here.”
“Damn it!”
Gaf snatched up something and handed it to Johan.
A holy relic rested in the demon’s pitch-black hand.
It was the Great Saint’s left eye, covered in gold leaf. Its appearance perfectly matched the description in the original story.
Johan immediately pulled a long glass tube from his backpack.
Polymorph Slime.
It was a treasure capable of perfectly imitating any object designated as its target.
Ilea let out a quiet exclamation of admiration.
“It seems there really is nothing the Forbidden Archive doesn’t have.”
“It isn’t known as the Kingdom’s Treasury for nothing.”
As he spoke, Johan poured the liquid from the glass tube over the golden model.
The thick slime engulfed the Great Saint’s eye. Clinging tightly to it, the substance began to squirm.
A moment later, the slime sprang away.
When Johan caught it, the gelatinous substance had vanished without a trace.
All that remained was a model that perfectly replicated the Great Saint’s eye.
“Gaf, you know what to do, don’t you?”
Switch them.
With a troubled expression, Gaf carried out Johan’s instructions.
Ilea spoke.
“A fine way to finish things. They’ll discover that the coffin was opened, but they won’t be certain the relic was stolen. There shouldn’t be any appraiser capable of identifying a Polymorph Slime—at least not in this kingdom.”
“But they’ll discover it eventually. This will only buy us time.”
“The important question is how we use that time.”
Johan nodded silently.
Grasping her broom, Ilea said,
“Then shall we hurry back? We can’t afford to waste a single moment.”
“Before that, what happened to Rael?”
Johan had instructed Ilea and Gaf to find Rael.
Gaf answered,
“We couldn’t even find his corpse. He was probably caught in the collision and reduced to dust. The same goes for the horses.”
A trace of regret crossed Johan’s face.
He was useful.
As though something had suddenly occurred to her, Ilea asked,
“Oh, what about Shaperia?”
“I accomplished my objective.”
A faint shadow fell over her face.
“It seems you let her live.”
“Well, she’s as good as dead.”
Gaf silently stared at Johan.
As though trying to change the subject, Johan spread his wings wide.
“Let’s go.”
Ilea’s expression softened, and she spoke playfully.
“Will you carry me like you did earlier?”
“Stop talking nonsense and take care of your father.”
With that, Johan flew into the night sky.
Dawn began to break. It was the hour when warm sunlight melted away the cold night and filled the frozen wilderness with the sounds of life.
But today was different.
The sun had risen, yet the mountain remained silent and cold.
If anything, it looked even bleaker than it had at night. Beneath the sunlight, the previous night’s tragedy was laid bare in even more gruesome detail.
Animal carcasses lay strewn about, while enormous trees ripped out by the roots blocked the paths.
Corrupted by the Apostle’s malice, even the earth and water were rapidly decaying.
The only splash of color was a head of red hair gleaming beneath the sun.
Shaperia trudged through the wasteland, supporting herself with an iron sword.
“...The coffin. I must find the coffin first.”
The Apostle and the horned demon must have attacked in pursuit of the Great Saint’s remains.
There was no other explanation.
High-ranking demons like them would never have appeared in this remote southern backwater for any other reason.
“Is anyone there?! Archbishop! Sir Knights!”
The altered terrain made it difficult to locate the camp. She couldn’t see any survivors either.
Could they all be dead?
“Damn it!”
Shaperia collapsed to the ground. Her stamina had long since been exhausted. It would have been different if she still possessed her holy power.
Without God’s grace, she was nothing.
Tears of despair streamed down her face.
She despised her own helplessness.
She slammed her fist against the pile of stones before her.
At that moment, the rubble shifted.
Shaperia’s eyes widened.
A rough hand was protruding through a gap between the rocks.
“A-are you alive in there?!”
Mustering every last ounce of strength, she began digging through the rubble.
“Please hold on! I’ll get you out right away!”
After frantically clearing away stones for some time, she exposed the person trapped beneath them.
There was a man inside—a young man with blond hair. His appearance seemed vaguely familiar.
“You’re...!”
He was a knight she had encountered several times at Baron Myatro’s estate.
Shaperia remembered those vacant eyes.
Why was one of the lord’s vassals here?
“I-I’ll get you out first.”
Just as she was about to clear away the remaining rubble, the knight spoke.
“...At last. I’m finally free.”
He looked happier than anyone she had ever seen.
Like a man who had been delivered from hell.
“Yes, I’ll get you out right—!”
Before Shaperia could finish speaking, the knight’s head went limp.
He was dead.
Even in death, he continued to smile.
Shaperia’s eyes trembled uncontrollably.
What in the world had the knight finally been freed from?