Raising the Princess to Overcome Death Chapter 122
122. Childhood Friend – The Battle of Nevis
“Ahhhh!”
The citizens gathered in the plaza screamed and covered their ears.
Rev considered the trumpet sound echoing throughout Nevis to be holy, but apparently, it wasn’t the same for them.
[Barbatos's Hunting Ground] had the ability to apply buffs or debuffs to all living creatures within a certain area.
Those who possessed Barbatos's divine power within that area moved faster, were less likely to tire, and had improved vision.
For apostles, it also allowed them to sense the location of all "prey" within the hunting ground.
Another effect was increased efficiency of offering rituals within the area, although this was useless to Rev.
Conversely, any living creature without Barbatos's divine power, that is, the prey, received debuffs in Barbatos's Hunting Ground.
It was uncertain if these debuffs were the reason, but they were easily injured. The headache caused by the trumpet sound was an additional penalty.
However, Rev wasn’t done yet. [Barbatos's Hunting Ground] had no direct killing power.
That was why he had worked tirelessly for half a year.
Rev snapped his fingers.
The traps laid across Nevis were triggered, and screams erupted from all sides.
A young boy’s white, slender neck twisted backward. The fingers of a woman who had struggled through a tough life fell off, and an elderly couple, who had aged gracefully, hung suspended in midair.
A promising young man lost both his eyes and wept while holding his girlfriend's hand, not knowing what had happened to her.
A widow who had finally succeeded in paying off her husband’s debt after ten years had her mouth and cheeks torn apart, along with her only young daughter.
The bellflower dumplings the mother and daughter were enjoying fell from their torn cheeks.
“Hahaha! Offer your lives to the great god, Barbatos!”
Rev laughed madly and waved his hand.
The horn symbol on his right hand glowed red, and the horn symbol appeared above the heads of all the more than 200,000 humans in the plaza.
It was the [Targeted Hunting] debuff.
At the same time, blood spilled from everywhere, and screams grew louder. As Rev began to swing his sword at the panicked crowd, the chaos reached its peak.
[Acheivement: Civilian Massacre - You have killed '116' civilians. You are slightly unlucky.]
In the blink of an eye, hundreds of people were dead. As the elderly and weak caught in the traps died one by one, and as Rev continued to cut down people, a red haze emanated from his body.
Rev had used up most of his divine power enthralling the knights of House Guidan and setting traps throughout Nevis.
But every time he cried out, “I offer it up!” hundreds of lives were offered, and Rev regained his original power, and more. His power continued to grow.
Then, amid the rising and falling messages of civilian massacre achievements, a strange one appeared.
[Quest: Warmonger 100/10000 – {Leadership} skill increases by one level.]
It appeared when Rev slit the throat of a soldier.
Oddly, despite the 'Soldier Killing' achievements being exhausted to zero, this quest accurately noted the number 100, matching the number of soldiers killed by Revs.
Rev let out a hollow laugh.
He hadn’t intended to achieve it by indiscriminately killing civilians, but the god he served was certainly not sane.
‘That filthy god. I'll make him pay for killing my followers...’
As Rev's eyes turned crimson with rage, his movements momentarily halted.
What am I thinking?
He was briefly stunned, but the suspicion quickly faded away like mixing cold and hot water.
Only deep anger remained.
Rev looked up, his fury inexplicably intensified.
He saw the blood-red plaza and the citizens struggling in the traps.
Most of them were screaming and running in all directions.
At that moment, a group emerged from the front of the royal palace. Despite the chaos, they seemed unaffected.
There were about 200 crusaders and around 500 clergy in white robes, perhaps including some monks, and nobles.
While it was expected for the crusaders and priests, the nobles and their guards and knights also lacked the [Targeted Hunting] debuff. They must have received blessings from the priests.
“Count Ogarten, what is that?”
“Ugh... that is a divine script. It’s beyond human comprehension or research...”
When Marquis Evni Drazhin pointed to the horn symbol in the sky, Count Soarel Demetri Ogarten answered, clutching his aching head.
The surrounding wizards also seemed to suffer from severe headaches, holding their heads in pain.
They wore robes that reached their heels, all purple, indicating their affiliation with the Bolinieu Tower.
But one robe was a different color. A wizard in a green robe, contracted with the royal family, was from the "Iver Tower" in the Kingdom of Conrad.
Usually, wizards contracted for royal palace defense were not from towers within their own country.
This was to prevent towers from exerting political influence, a necessity evident from the power struggles in the Aisel Kingdom.
In any case, the king spoke.
“What in the world is happening?”
Despite the massacre unfolding in the plaza, the old king remained calm.
Perhaps it was because he was a monster capable of committing similar atrocities if he chose to.
However, his voice carried anger, suggesting he was not a tyrant who disregarded his subjects.
“...It appears an apostle has appeared.”
Cardinal Paulo, standing beside him, answered. Although he maintained a calm expression, he was inwardly horrified.
‘Cardinal Mihael's concerns were correct. Apostles truly exist...’
A few months ago, Cardinal Mihael had contacted him directly.
Communications between priests, unlike telepathy, could not be done randomly. It required holy relics or divine objects kept in churches, so Mihael’s personal contact indicated the seriousness of the matter.
“Is there a way to resolve this?”
The king did not question what an apostle was. He was a ruler, not a scholar.
“...Yes. Although it is difficult to say for certain, my experience suggests that those who follow false gods are easily subdued.”
The Cardinal of the Kingdom of Orun had dealt with numerous barbarians.
The Kingdom of Orun, with its mountainous terrain, had many barbarian tribes that worshiped their own gods without contact with civilization.
The more isolated they were, the more they resisted conversion, leading to many tribes being expelled from the kingdom.
Some had used the power of false gods to resist, and the cardinal had experienced this.
But honestly, their power was insignificant. The so-called priest of the tribe couldn’t even handle a single priest. Most strange sorceries were resolved with a single blessing.
After capturing and researching several tribal priests, the cardinal learned how weak their divine power was. Rather, he realized the immense strength of the power of the true god.
Despite praying for twelve hours a day, the divine power increased only slightly, but it was worth it.
Therefore, Cardinal Paulo was confident. He had dismissed Cardinal Mihael’s caution, considering the dispatch of crusaders an overreaction.
Yet, to think an apostle from ancient theology could be this powerful... Swallowing his saliva, the cardinal spoke hesitantly.
“I can dispel the curse on the people and the symbol in the sky. Just a moment...”
He recited a sacred incantation.
“O aqua-dives humilis-maloe! Banish this evil!”
The effect was immediate.
Centered on the entrance of the palace where he stood, the blood-red ground regained its original color.
The horn symbol in the sky wavered as if blown by the wind and began to shrink.
“...Excellent.”
The king said.
Although it was a compliment, the king's expression was far from satisfied. After all, only the royal palace had returned to normal, while the vast city remained blood-red.
Cardinal Paulo, feeling a bit awkward, said,
“It is due to my insufficient faith... However, there are more than 400 priests here. We can purify it soon. More importantly... we should deal with that apostle of the evil god first. Will you save the people while we handle the apostle?”
“...Very well.”
The old king thought, 'I wish the knights would deal with the apostle, and the priests save my people,' but he agreed readily.
He ordered the three commanders of the knight orders to lead the knights to save the people and instructed the captain of the royal guard to rescue the princes in the plaza.
As the king looked down at the plaza, a faint smile crossed his lips.
“Pull yourself together! A nosebleed won't kill you!”
“Over there! Evacuate calmly!”
The twin princes, calming their escorting knights and soldiers, were leading the nearby citizens back to the palace.
The king, finding his sons commendable, turned away and began addressing the panicked nobles one by one, managing the situation.
Meanwhile, the crusaders and 400 priests, following the cardinal’s orders, advanced towards the apostle of the evil god. As they began their march, something remarkable happened.
Like a rift opening in the ground, the red-stained land of Barbatos's Hunting Ground was erased wherever the crusaders' footsteps landed, and they proudly marched across the plaza in battle formation.
Their appearance was so holy that the surrounding citizens, regaining their composure, made way for them.
Soon, 200 fully armed crusaders and 400 priests stood before the apostle of the evil god. Before the battle, the crusaders shouted in unison.
“O God! Remember the wicked!”
The mark of divinity appeared on Rev’s forehead.
The holy spell, which marked those who had committed evil deeds, was a ritual performed by the crusaders before a battle.
Amusingly, the mark also appeared on a few nearby citizens, but no one paid attention to that at the moment.
The crusaders, who had cut through the blood-red ground, were now intent on thwarting Rev's plans.
Faced with this difficult situation, Rev...
“Puhahahaha!”
Laughed mockingly.
“In the past, I used to resent this mark! Now I see it's nothing!”
Just a glance from him made the mark lose its light.
Then, he stomped the ground hard, and the ground that the crusaders had cleared and the palace that the cardinal had restored turned red again.
The faces of the crusaders and priests hardened.
“Filthy servants of a false god! Face the wrath of Lord Barbatos!”
Rev shouted as he charged.
The crusaders muttered, invoking various blessings upon themselves in preparation. Their armor gleamed brightly as they rushed towards the apostle...
“Ah! It’s a Sword Master!”
Surprisingly, it was the crusaders who were bleeding. An aura blade suddenly sprang from Rev’s sword, and the crusaders, charging in tight formation towards the apostle, were struck by the blade.
Aura blades could not be blocked.
Strictly speaking, the red haze emanating from Rev’s sword was not an aura blade, but empowered by Barbatos’s divine power, it had similar effects.
To fight him, they needed to avoid his attacks and exploit his weaknesses, but the 200 crusaders, being in each other’s way, couldn’t create enough space to evade.
“Disperse!”
However, the crusaders quickly adapted.
They were knights by nature, and elite ones who had passed the rigorous selection of the central church.
“I don’t know how that false one is using an aura blade, but aura blades don’t last long!”
A shout from one crusader revealed the Sword Master’s weakness. As he said, aura blades were utilized very briefly in combat.
The reason for this was unknown. Only the Sword Masters themselves or the kingdoms experienced with them might know.
“O God! Punish the wicked...”
“Shut your mouth!”
Rev brought his sword down like lightning, splitting the crusader in front of him in two. However, he realized that fighting the crusaders was a troublesome task.
The divine power in their gleaming armor significantly drained Barbatos's divine power with each cut, and they were all highly skilled.
Some of them were even better swordsmen than those of the {Swordsmanship.3v : Barth Style}, making it impossible to dominate with swordsmanship alone.
Even so, Rev could hold his ground against hundreds of crusaders thanks to the buffs from [Barbatos’s Hunting Ground], his body strengthened by divine power, and the aura blade.
“Deus proptius eris impus Shea! God, forgive the wicked!”
“Dant animos militis non kkeok! Grant courage to the warrior!”
At that moment, the priests behind them chanted holy spells. As 400 priests knelt in prayer, various miracles occurred.
A translucent dome covered the plaza. The white cross symbol of the central church was etched into the blood-red ground, and a holy presence descended behind the crusaders.
Light pierced through Barbatos’s symbol in the sky, illuminating Rev, and dozens of ancient language-inscribed discs floated up, aiming at Rev.
Rev felt extremely displeased.
It wasn’t that the holy spells made him uncomfortable. There was no inherent opposition between the true god's power and Barbatos's power. They were just different powers, different divine forces.
However, like morning dew evaporating in the sunlight, Barbatos's divine power seeped out of his body like steam, which was displeasing.
‘...This is far more troublesome than expected.’
For those with the true god's power, neither [Eye of Enchantment] nor [Targeted Hunting] had any effect. [Trap Hunting] only physically hindered them briefly, and the traps that caught the crusaders were cleanly destroyed.
Only [Barbatos’s Hunting Ground] seemed to have a minor effect, making their movements slightly sluggish.
“Hyah!”
Noticing this, Rev charged forward. Swinging his sword with both hands, he slashed the aura blade in all directions.
The crusaders, puzzled by his sudden frenzy, stepped back to a safe distance...
“Watch out!”
“Ah!”
The apostle of the evil god charged recklessly, heading straight for the priests in the rear. The kneeling priests were helpless as they were cut down.
“Protect the priests! Just a little longer! Priests, move further back!”
The crusaders gritted their teeth. The enemy was fighting cunningly and cowardly.
They had intended to encircle the apostle and buy time, but he ridiculed them by breaking free and attacking the priests or slaughtering the panicked civilians.
‘If only that aura blade...’
This must have been the thought of all the crusaders. Once the aura blade dissipated, the apostle would be a dead man.
“Drive him to the wall!”
“He’s escaping! Block him!”
The battle turned into a chaotic brawl. The initial grandeur had long vanished.
The 200 crusaders swarmed one man like common thugs, while the wielder of the aura blade darted around, hunting the weak. It was more of a farce than a fight.
After a while, the crusaders sensed something was wrong.
‘Why is he avoiding the fight? If he doesn't defeat us while the aura blade is active, it will be troublesome for him...’
“Wait! Something’s wrong!”
“He’s stalling for time!”
One by one, the crusaders raised alarms, changing the atmosphere. But it was too late.
[Achievement: Civilian Massacre - You have killed '8891' civilians. You are slightly unlucky.]
“Offer it up! Hahaha! Fools!”
A red haze flared even more fiercely from Rev’s sword. The blade, previously shimmering faintly, now roared like a molten furnace.
“H-How?!”
It took time for people to die.
Those who died instantly from the low-lethality [Trap Hunting] were either very unlucky or the weak, like children or the elderly. Most citizens suffered horrific injuries but not immediately fatal wounds.
But then came the [Targeted Hunting] debuff. It caused bleeding and cursed wounds that wouldn’t heal.
The tens of thousands of citizens gathered in the plaza, cursed and terrified, scattered in all directions.
Whether they were caught in traps set throughout Nevis or holed up in their homes, they were slowly dying from blood loss without priestly aid.
I merely guided it to happen that way.
Killing civilians in the middle of the plaza was to draw the attention of the crusaders and priests, preventing them from dispersing to erase the [Targeted Hunting] debuff.
‘It’s over.’
Rev, drunk on victory, poured divine power into his sword. Thousands of lives burned, and the blade extended.
The crimson aura blade grew enormous, capable of splitting a large wagon. At the moment despair filled the crusaders' eyes,
- Boom!
A thunderbolt struck.
In the distance, Count Soarel Demetri Ogleton, shrouded in a blue mist, pointed at Rev and shouted.
“That’s not a Sword Master!”