Chapter 68
Assault on the Royal Capital (2)
The royal capital, Arterium.
The pitch-black night sky was engulfed in deep-blue mana.
A magic circle spread across the heavens, blazing brilliantly. Every stroke of the formation shone, radiating an unnatural presence.
Most of the people on the ground watched the strange phenomenon as though they were enjoying a festival.
Laughter and cheerful chatter echoed throughout the royal capital.
Their smiles did not last long.
“W-wait a minute.”
“What is that sound?”
“Screaming…?”
A noise like metal scraping against steel began spreading across the night sky. It was so unpleasant and unnerving that everyone wanted to cover their ears.
It was a monstrous cry that instinctively made humans cower.
“Someone, please make it stop!”
“Stop it! I said stop!”
The crowd descended into chaos. Some clutched their heads and screamed, while others raced through the streets in a frenzy.
People were losing their minds one after another.
Unfortunately, the torment did not end. Instead, the noise grew louder and drew closer.
“I can’t stand listening to it!”
“Save me! Please!”
Resentment accumulated over five hundred years—hatred no ordinary human could experience in an entire lifetime—blanketed the surface.
Its malice had become so intense that it could almost be felt against the skin.
Just as everyone began succumbing to madness, the night sky split open.
Horrific wails shook heaven and earth.
Beings that embodied bitter resentment revealed themselves.
They poured down upon the royal capital, howling all the while.
It was as though the gates of hell had opened.
An emergency alert was issued at the royal capital’s Divine Inspection Bureau, an organization that monitored every form of evil, including demons, heretics, and apostates.
The cause was the spatial transference formation deployed above the royal capital.
Thousands of fiends were being summoned through the formation and raining down upon the ground.
Fortunately, there had not yet been any casualties.
The divine barrier incinerated every fiend that collided with it.
Furthermore, countless soldiers, priests, and holy knights stood ready for whatever might happen after the barrier was breached.
The royal capital’s anti-demon defenses were exceptionally formidable.
The situation was relatively manageable, but the Inspection Bureau could not simply stand by and watch.
The king and countless nobles resided in Arterium.
They were the heart of the kingdom. If its defenses were breached, even once, the kingdom would cease to function properly.
The nation itself might even disappear.
If there was even the slightest possibility of danger to them, the Inspection Bureau had to respond with everything it possessed.
Archbishop Rohagen, Director of the Royal Capital’s Divine Inspection Bureau, rushed out of the church and shouted,
“Until we understand the situation, focus solely on defense! Put all forces on standby and request support from the royal palace!”
His secretary followed him outside and answered,
“It has already been handled! Every member of the palace garrison, apart from the Royal Knights, has assembled!”
Not only the church’s soldiers but also ordinary knights and the Royal Guard had been fully mobilized.
“What about the beacon?”
“It has been lit! The Holy Kingdom will soon realize what is happening!”
Reinforcements would be sent to the royal capital from across the continent.
Until they arrived, Director Rohagen intended to concentrate solely on defense.
If he overreached and an unexpected variable arose, it would be disastrous.
This was the first large-scale attack against humanity in two hundred years, so everyone lacked actual combat experience.
The correct course of action was to remain calm and follow the manual.
Rohagen nodded.
“Well done. Then convene an emergency meeting immediately, and—”
Someone abruptly interrupted him.
“Shouldn’t we put together a special task force first?”
Rohagen turned around.
A narrow-eyed man wearing a pure-white headscarf was grinning at him.
“Azbal…?”
Azbal, Fourth Seat of the Twelve Holy Radiances.
He was one of the Church’s strongest combatants.
“Yes, Director. It’s Azbal.”
“Why are you here?”
Most of the Twelve Holy Radiances had been dispatched to the Divine Quarantine Zone in the southwest.
They had been deployed to the area where the ancient demon and White Horn had appeared.
Scratching his headscarf, Azbal said,
“I went there for a bit, then came right back. Whether he rose into the sky or sank into the ground, we couldn’t find so much as a trace of White Horn.”
White Horn was still being investigated inside the Divine Sealing Formation, but not a single clue had been uncovered.
Such a situation was difficult to explain unless White Horn had already escaped the sealing formation.
In truth, it was more reasonable to assume that White Horn had indeed escaped the barrier.
At least, that was Azbal’s opinion.
Rohagen sighed with an expression that suggested the matter was giving him a splitting headache.
“How long do you intend to keep acting however you please?”
Azbal grinned.
“Still, don’t you feel reassured to have me here? If you leave it to me, I’ll at least go and find out what those things are.”
He pointed toward the night sky.
Three dark silhouettes could be seen near the spatial transference formation that was spewing out fiends.
They were probably the ones responsible for this disaster.
It was difficult to identify them from here.
They were too far away, and the divine barrier was too densely layered.
To determine their identities, someone would have to approach them.
After considering it briefly, Rohagen spoke.
“I cannot spare any troops.”
“That doesn’t matter. I’m more than enough on my own. If anything, more people would only get in my way.”
His confidence was not unfounded.
Every member of the Twelve Holy Radiances was an overwhelmingly powerful monster in their own right. Had they been born five hundred years earlier, they would have been revered as holy heroes.
In truth, Rohagen was relieved that Azbal had remained in the royal capital.
Rohagen nodded.
“Act independently according to your own judgment. Submit a separate report afterward.”
Azbal made a gesture of allegiance.
“Yes, sir! As you command! Saint Margiel!”
Shaking his head, Rohagen returned to the church.
It was time to begin the emergency meeting.
Left alone outside, Azbal looked up into the sky.
“Attacking the royal capital, huh? Just who are you bastards, coming here with guts that big?”
An intrigued smile played across his lips.
*
“It’s a little lacking.”
Countless fiends continued raining down upon the ground without pause. The people were busy fleeing in terror and screaming.
Their fear was a delicacy to demons.
It was quite a pleasing situation, but there was one problem.
Both the quantity and quality of the fear fell far short of Mapheltan’s expectations.
Fundamentally, the royal capital was simply too safe.
As long as the divine barrier remained intact, the people would not feel that their lives were truly in danger.
They were merely fleeing because the existence of the fiends had startled them.
Fear of that extent was nowhere near enough to satisfy Mapheltan.
Since Mapheltan had come here despite the risks, however slight they might be, he needed a better reward.
He spoke.
“Ilea, can you bring down that barrier? Even if it’s only for a moment.”
The girl in the black hood replied from atop her broomstick.
“I’m sorry. I have almost no mana left.”
She had pushed her body to its limits for days to activate the spatial transference formation.
Looking down from above the royal capital, Mapheltan murmured to himself.
Spatial transference was an unfathomably high-tier spell. Even a witch could not cast it without paying a price.
Ilea was, in fact, on the verge of complete exhaustion.
Mapheltan clicked his tongue.
“It can’t be helped.”
Just as he was about to give up, the dark elf standing atop Ilea’s broom spoke.
“I can manage it for a short while.”
“You can?”
The dark elf nodded.
“The barrier is inferior to what it was five hundred years ago. Would one minute be enough?”
Mapheltan’s lips curved upward.
“That’s plenty. Thank you.”
“There is no need to thank me. The stronger you become, the easier it will be to fulfill our contract.”
Pitch-black light began gathering in the dark elf’s hand.
The ominous radiance soon transformed into the shape of a bow.
It was a massive greatbow, larger than Mapheltan himself. It had to be a cursed artifact of at least the seventh rank.
The dark elf nocked an enormous arrow onto its string.
He looked as though he were preparing to fire a siege weapon.
Mapheltan let out a quiet sound of admiration.
At that moment, the arrow was released.
With a shriek that seemed to tear the air apart, a bolt of black lightning descended upon the barrier.
Boooooom—!
With a deafening explosion, cracks spread across the barrier.
Everyone on the ground stared in horror.
“N-no way!”
“The barrier is breaking!”
“Run!”
Another bolt of lightning descended.
Immediately afterward, the golden curtain covering the royal capital shattered like glass.
Chaos erupted.
Nearly everyone on the ground screamed and fled. Many others were too shocked to move at all.
The fiends rained down like a torrential downpour.
Mapheltan’s crimson eyes rolled back in ecstasy.
Pleasure swept over him like a wave.
To keep himself from losing his sanity, Mapheltan repeatedly injured himself.
He was beginning to grow accustomed to doing this.
“…Fuck.”
Zalkarin and the other fiends surrendered themselves to the pleasure.
The excited elves unleashed horrific shrieks.
Kiiiiiiieeeeeeeek—!
Even as countless divine spells and defensive measures tore them apart, they could not conceal their delight.
“Intercept them!”
“Not a single one can be allowed to set foot in the royal capital!”
Black blood scattered through the air.
Torn and ruptured remains rained down upon the ground.
Everyone below was drenched in filthy gore.
Not a single demon survived long enough to reach the streets, yet the ground had already become a vision of hell.
Humans trampled one another and fell, creating a frenzy of panic.
Mapheltan closed his eyes and reaffirmed his resolve.
Just don’t lose myself.
He only had to endure for one minute.
While Mapheltan struggled to control his mind, Ilea lightly tapped his arm.
Mapheltan opened his eyes. A gigantic white bird was hovering directly ahead of him.
Someone sat cross-legged atop it.
It was a narrow-eyed man wearing a headscarf. His tiny eyes opened slightly.
“Could you really be White Horn?”
Ilea spoke quietly.
“Mapheltan, that man might be a little dangerous.”
Mapheltan felt the same way.
An extraordinarily dangerous aura emanated from the man.
The divine power surrounding him shone brilliantly enough to be blinding, and the relaxed smile on his face was full of confidence.
The dark elf narrowed his eyes.
“So mutants like that still exist, even after five hundred years.”
Every so often, irregulars like the man before them were born among humanity.
Heroes chosen by the Moon.
Humanity had survived thanks to people like them.
The man grinned.
“What are you whispering about? More importantly, are you really White Horn?”
His appearance almost perfectly matched the description he had received.
The being who was supposed to be trapped inside the Divine Sealing Formation had appeared above the royal capital.
Mapheltan calmly replied,
“That’s right. But tell me, mortal—what is your name?”
The man began clapping.
“Looks like my guess was right. I’m Azbal.”
It was just as Mapheltan had suspected.
Azbal the Flesh Shredder.
He was one of the Twelve Holy Radiances and an important character in the Chronicle of Humans and Demons.
Mapheltan had immediately deduced Azbal’s identity from the divine beast he was riding.
A smile appeared on Mapheltan’s face.
He had just met his favorite character from the Chronicle of Humans and Demons.
He was personally a fan.
Mapheltan said,
“Very well, Azbal. I would like to have a conversation with you.”
Azbal waved dismissively.
“Demons don’t get to do that. White Horn dies here.”
At the same time, he brought a hand to his mouth.
His esophagus began to writhe.
A moment later, a gigantic saw emerged through his mouth.
Mapheltan watched with an intrigued expression.
“Well, well. So you’re a Visard.”
Azbal grinned.
“That’s right. And I’m going to cut you in half with it.”
The dark elf immediately fired an arrow.
An instant later, Azbal vanished.
His relaxed voice came from above Mapheltan’s head.
“I’m not interested in the underlings. I’ll kill the boss first.”
The grotesque saw blade descended toward Mapheltan’s head.