Chapter 747: Chapter 747: Guide (4)

Perched by the second-floor window, he stared out at the burning city.

Fwoosh! Fwoooosh—!

Flames roared and twisted as if they would consume everything in their path. But those flames slammed against something—like invisible glass—and couldn’t reach the building.

As if protected by divine grace.

Though, that was the kind of thought only someone with a modern sensibility might have.

This was a world where countless mystic forces were real.

The locals, seeing such a scene, would think first of protection-type magic circles, artifacts, or divine spells.

'Well... I guess if it’s a divine spell, then maybe calling it divine protection isn’t wrong?'

The thought crossed his mind for a moment, but Sven Parab shook his head. As a paladin who used divine power, he knew better than anyone.

Divine power was just another resource.

Of course, within the Church, they preached that divine power was a blessing of the gods, and that if one lost their worthiness, the gods would strip it away...

'Bullshit.'

Sven Parab had seen too much.

Priests who didn’t act like priests.

Archbishops who didn’t act like archbishops.

Cardinals who didn’t act like cardinals.

And...

Paladins who didn’t act like paladins.

They shouted about virtue with their mouths, spoke of mercy and sharing—but their hearts were never clean.

Just like him.

"......"

Sven Parab had always thought the same thing.

If divine power were truly something that could not be granted to the unworthy, then it should’ve been taken from him long ago.

And in fact, his life was proof.

From the very beginning, he was an evil spirit who had taken over a kind soul’s body. And he hadn’t lived anything close to a paladin’s life since then.

But even after leaving the Church, this so-called holy power still hadn’t vanished.

So the claim that divine power was only given to the worthy? All of it was bullshit.

Well, that’s not to say gods don’t exist.

[You received a divine revelation...?]

Surprisingly, he had once heard the voice of the goddess directly.

It happened in a dream. In that dream, the goddess showed him visions of the future—thanks to which, he avoided a disastrous fate.

And that only deepened his doubts.

'What the hell do they actually want...?'

If gods were real—and it seemed they were, along with all the overwhelming power described in sacred texts—

Then why was the world such a mess?

With those thoughts, he continued sitting by the window, watching the burning city.

Time passed.

Fwoosh—!

Something about the flames shifted. It was subtle, but different from before. He straightened his posture and looked outside with focus.

"Damn it."

The fire was dying out.

***

The fire going out wasn’t necessarily a good sign.

Right now, people were a bigger threat than the flames.

In fact, those flames had been protecting them.

And it wasn’t that the fire had simply burned out naturally. It looked like someone was actively suppressing it—intentionally.

Thump—!

A feeling, like something just took one step closer to him. Sven Parab ignored it and quickly did what needed to be done.

"Everyone, this way! Move to the back!"

First, he gathered the refugees into a single area.

"Miss Marone!"

He called for Marone to activate the magic circle they’d prepared earlier, then ran back up to the second floor and looked outside again.

Fwoosh—!

The flames were dying at an alarming rate.

Soon, as the fire died down, a military formation emerged through the gaps.

Clank, clank.

Heavily armed soldiers marched in disciplined formation, advancing as they cleared the fire.

In his heart, he prayed they were Royal Army—but, as always, that prayer went unanswered.

Clank, clank.

Over a hundred troops, at a glance, were quickly approaching.

Sven Parab pressed himself against the wall to stay out of sight and carefully observed.

Clank, clank.

They were now right in front of the building.

He sat under the window, focusing solely on the sound.

'Please, please, please, please, please...'

Please, just pass by.

He prayed again—but of course, the prayer went unanswered.

How could it be otherwise?

Even he would check out the one untouched building in a burning city if he were a Noark soldier.

Just like this—

Clunk, clunk—!

A rattling noise from the first floor. A man’s rough voice followed.

"Captain, it’s locked."

And after that, silence.

Sven Parab crawled across the floor toward the stairs.

The refugees gathered in the chapel were covering their mouths, barely breathing, trembling in fear—

Boom—!

A heavy impact slammed into the door, and one of the refugees let out a tiny gasp.

"...Hhp!"

A minuscule sound.

But were they already focused on this building from outside?

"Oh, looks like someone’s in there after all."

"Don’t lower your guard. Might be one of Yandel’s allies."

Sven Parab suddenly found it hard to breathe.

'Yandel’s allies...'

Could they have come all this way because of us?

If that were the case—

"Break down the door!"

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The Noark soldiers pounded harder than before.

Fear flooded the eyes of the refugees.

"Captain! It won’t break!"

"Doesn’t seem like it’s just sturdy materials... probably some kind of magic at work."

"Yeah... I mean, the whole city’s on fire and this temple’s the only thing untouched?"

"Second floor! Go in through the window!"

So they were determined to get in.

There was no point in whispering anymore.

"What do we do?"

"Miss Marone, cover the first floor. I’ll handle the second!"

With that, Sven Parab rose from his crouch, no longer hiding.

And—

"Oh! Someone’s—"

He drove {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} his sword into the face of the soldier who had poked his head through the window.

Clatter! Thunk—!

"Sven Parab! Sven Parab’s on the second floor!"

"Get him!!"

As he revealed himself, the Noark soldiers’ eyes gleamed with greed.

"That bastard’s head is mine!!"

If this were a normal medieval battle, they’d need ladders to storm the second floor. But this was Lafdonia, overflowing with mystic forces.

Essence-infused soldiers stormed through the windows with no ladders necessary.

Clatter—!

Like ninjas, they burst through every window, flooding into the second floor. Their eyes glowed with murderous intent as they swung their weapons.

"Die...!"

A dozen or so invaded in an instant, and the fight began.

There was no strategy.

Slash—!

He swung his white greatsword.

Sometimes he stabbed.

When they struck back, he blocked with his shield—

Thunk—!

And when he couldn’t, he took the hit, doing his best to avoid fatal wounds.

Then—

Shwoooosh—!

He quickly healed himself with divine spells.

But even in this chaotic melee, he had no positional advantage.

'Why the hell is the staircase in the middle...'

He had to hold the one passage to the first floor, facing a flood of incoming enemies.

But he wasn’t Bjorn Yandel.

Thunk—!

A blunt weapon, powered by supernatural force, struck his head. The world spun.

The healing magic was keeping him alive, but he staggered backward.

Tap.

One step down. Fighting got harder.

Standing on even ground versus unstable footing made a huge difference.

Thunk—!

A thrown dagger pierced deep between his collarbone and muscle.

Tap.

Another step back.

Boom—!

Some kind of magic spell?

He twisted his shield to absorb the blow, but it still forced him back.

Tap.

Moving forward was hard.

But retreating was far too easy.

'How can I possibly stop this many enemies...'

His will faltered.

As if to prove it, he stepped back again—more easily this time.

Tap.

When he came to, he was already halfway down the stairs. Just by turning his head, he could see the refugees.

"......!"

"......!"

They were praying, eyes tightly shut, hoping he’d defeat the enemies.

But reality wasn’t a comic.

Instead of feeling a surge of strength, he—

Tap.

Stepped back again. Not from injury, but to dodge an attack.

Tap.

Another step.

Pressed by the onslaught, he retreated, and finally—

「Riris Marone has cast Tier-5 defensive spell [Iron Wall].」

A huge wall surged between Sven Parab and the enemies, sealing off the stairs for now.

It gave him a moment to breathe—

Boom—!

"It won’t last long!"

Even without Marone saying it, the explosions from beyond the wall made that clear.

"There’s way more of them than we thought! What do we do?"

Sven Parab didn’t answer.

'What do we do? I don’t know either.'

'What else can I do to survive this?'

Thump—!

His heart pounded with grim finality, as if saying: there is no way.

And yet—was there always a hole in the sky, even when it collapsed?

He glanced around—and spotted the statue of the goddess.

'...What’s this?'

He couldn’t take his eyes off it.

Some strange instinct began to stir.

He couldn’t explain it—but that statue felt like hope. Like it might offer a way out.

Tatatat—

While the wall held, he dashed to the statue.

Looking around it—

'Hm?'

He found a hidden recess in a barely visible spot.

He pressed into it, touched the statue—and it slid backward, smoothly.

'Is this... an emergency passage...?'

There was no guarantee.

But if there was any chance of survival—it was here.

He turned to alert the refugees—

Thump—!

His heart pounded violently, and he hesitated.

That damned instinct was speaking again.

'Don’t tell them.'

Don’t say a word.

'If you want to live.'

No reason, no logic—just that voice, screaming inside him.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

'Goddamn it, what the hell do you want from me?'

Was this some kind of game?

Was it fun, pushing people around like this?

Instead of relief, he felt disgust.

And just then—

Tap.

Something touched his limp right arm.

"......?"

He looked down.

A small child was looking up at him, on the verge of tears.

"Mister Paladin... are you hurting a lot...?"

"......"

Sven Parab didn’t answer.

He didn’t even ask himself the question.

He simply shoved the statue fully open—

So everyone could see the secret stairway hidden beneath.

"Everyone! Get down here, now!"

Even as he shouted, he thought:

'Ah. I did it...'

No matter what, he would never be a great man.

If he was going to do the right thing, he wished he could do it with more flair.

'Well... maybe this suits me better.'

The refugees began descending.

Aside from the child who asked if he was okay, no one thanked him.

'As if it were only natural.'

Still, he didn’t feel betrayed or disappointed.

'Yeah... people are all the same. They put themselves first.'

Of course, there was hypocrisy in that.

If he thought that way, why hadn’t he looked out for himself?

Why did he act for strangers he’d only just met?

It wouldn’t even make him a righteous paladin in the end.

"Mr. Parab...?"

Why?

Why did he do it, when no one would reward him?

"Why are you just standing there? Come on! The wall’s going to collapse!"

Sven Parab looked back at the statue.

The goddess of stars—she who guided fate and led explorers on their journey.

But, as always, she told him nothing.

Unlike this instinct, which never asked for permission.

Thump—!

Come to think of it... what was this instinct?

He had never thought about it before—but now, it felt strange.

He’d always believed he had good luck, good intuition.

But this... this was different.

Thump—!

Whatever it was, this instinct had saved him countless times.

It was a blessing.

And yet... now he couldn’t help but wonder.

Thump—!

Was it always right?

Thump—!

What had he lost by following it?

Thump—!

If he hadn’t had it—

Thump—!

Would he have been less of a coward—someone more noble?

Thump—!

Maybe... it was a shackle.

A shackle that kept him from walking the right path.

BOOOOM—!

The wall collapsed—and Marone’s voice echoed from below.

"Mr. Parab...!!"

And the instinct shouted as well.

Thump—!

It’s not too late.

Go. Go down there.

And—

Thump—!

Leave them. Survive alone.

It was stronger, clearer than anything he’d ever felt.

And perhaps because of that, the decision had never been easier.

"...Forgive me."

Sven Parab shoved Marone through the opening and pushed the statue back into place.

[...GO!]

The pounding of his heart now turned into full-blown hallucinations.

[...Follow her! Live! Survive!]

That was why he didn’t go.

If he followed her, he might be tempted again by that voice.

So—

[Go down now—!]

He punched his chest and said:

"Shut up."

Thump...?

"I decide where I go."

He drew his sword and shield.

And charged down the stairs toward the flooding enemies.

Thump—!

His heart raced.

Thump—!

More alive than ever.

[......Tch.]

「The ancient evil god clicks its tongue in regret.」