Chapter 265
“T-that man…!”
“Gasp!”
The man who stumbled out of the Gate of the Pantheon alone was none other than Reed.
Rumble.
…
With his back to the closing gate, Reed slowly took three steps. His gait was stumbling, unlike his usual self.
Of course, even if he had momentarily forgotten his composure, the dignity and presence of his being hadn’t faded in the slightest.
“H-how could this be.”
“H-he came out alive from in there…?”
Shock and fear filled the eyes of those who watched.
An evil being who entered the Gate of the Pantheon and returned, yet still preserved his physical form.
However, Reed was not entirely unscathed.
“Cough, cough…!”
After only four steps, his body collapsed.
The dignified evil being knelt, palms to the ground, and spewed dark crimson blood.
To prevent his body from breaking, he was burning his lifespan, aura, and demonic energy, pushing his functions to their limit.
Tendons bulged and twitched all over his body, and veins swelled as if they would burst, frantically circulating blood throughout his system.
The black demon swordsman was currently incapacitated.
Romina Lekandro, realizing the situation, was the first to shout.
“All forces, attack!”
However, their response was delayed by a hair’s breadth.
Suddenly, a dry sandstorm blew, enveloping Reed’s body.
“<O Chaos Evil God… I have come to escort you. Quickly, to my Sanarak…>”
Carpheios reverently escorted Reed to his demon territory.
Only a dark crimson pool of blood remained where Reed had been moments before.
The Demon King subjugation force, having lost its target, uniformly ceased movement. Once again, the atmosphere of the battlefield quieted.
Around that time, Tesillid, who had witnessed the series of events, asked his comrades.
“Surely Aillet…”
…
“She went in there…?”
In there.
The pure white triumphal arch located at the center of the battlefield.
He knew immediately upon seeing it that it wasn’t of this world, but of another realm, specifically the Divine Realm.
Having lived for 117 iterations, there was no way he wouldn’t know what it meant for her to enter there in her Demonization state.
His ocean-colored eyes, having forgotten to blink, trembled finely like glass about to shatter.
Hilde opened her mouth with a tearful expression, but could only manage a sharp intake of breath.
That alone was a sufficient answer for Tesillid.
“Te-Tesillid!”
“Brother!”
Tesillid immediately sprang from his spot and ran frantically towards the Gate of the Pantheon.
The tightly closed gate no longer functioned as an entrance. Without even a doorknob, it was nothing short of a massive and solid wall.
A foolish human standing before an insurmountable, impenetrable wall.
Tesillid knew this feeling all too well.
The helplessness and despair, personally taught by his god since long ago, threatened to burn his soul pure white.
Tesillid desperately knocked on the gate.
“Aillet! Aillet Rodelain! Answer me!”
Spark! Sparkle!
Divine power sparked every time his fist made contact.
When no answer came, Tesillid gradually went mad. He began to pound on the gate, infusing his fists with divine aura as if to break it down.
“Aillet, please! Answer me! Aillet!”
His fists had a power comparable to a siege ram.
However, the object before him was the Gate of the Pantheon. That is, the gate of the Divine Realm.
His divine aura was nullified, leaving only the insignificant strength of his physical body.
His gaze changed at the unmoving gate. He glared at the gate, no, beyond the gate.
As bloodstains began to appear on the marble-white gate, Tesillid’s target of pleas changed.
“Give her back! Give Aillet Rodelain back to me!”
Towards the supreme and omnipotent being beyond the gate, he dared to cry out insolently.
“I said, give her back!”
Still, the gate did not budge. Unchangingly, the god ignored him.
“Why…”
His throat was choked, unbearable.
His insides felt hot, as if he would die.
The resentment, accumulated layer by layer towards his god over a long time, finally burst forth.
“Why…! Why is it always like this!”
Thud!
“Why do you always take things from me like this! Why does it always end in betrayal or loss!?”
Thud, thud!
“You could make an exception just once! Just once…! It’s not such a big desire! But why do you…!”
Thud!
“Why don’t you even allow me that one thing…!”
CRASH!
Amidst the dull reverberations, his miserable scream finally broke.
His blood-soaked fist slipped on the gate. The beautifully embossed angel on its surface streamed bloody tears.
“Please… please pity me, you damn god… you damn Strict Order and Goodness…!”
It was at that moment, when the desperate man’s blasphemy reached its peak.
A mercy unbefitting ‘his god’ descended like a miracle.
Creak.
…
The Gate of the Pantheon opened again. Unlike when it expelled Reed, it opened wide, pouring out a long stream of pure divine light.
After desperate adaptation, his eyes discerned something within the light.
A silhouette, obscured by the backlighting, was approaching him.
Thud.
The figure, having crossed the threshold, slowly leaned forward.
Before Tesillid could even process anything with his mind, he opened his arms and embraced the body.
Creak, CRASH.
The Gate of the Pantheon closed again and vanished.
Only after the light that stung his retina receded could he finally see the person in his arms properly.
A person with long pink hair, eyes closed.
To his surprise, it was Aillet Rodelain.
…
Tesillid immediately checked her breathing and put his ear to her heart. She was alive.
“Ah…”
It was the first mercy he had ever received from a god in his life.
“Aillet… Aillet…”
Tesillid looked down at her in disbelief, then hugged her tightly to his chest.
As if he would never let her be taken from him again.
“Your Holiness!”
“Your Holiness has returned!”
“The gods have returned the Holy Saint!”
“Ah! Thank you, gods!”
Soon, people approached to check on the Holy Saint’s condition.
At this moment, Tesillid didn’t want to show her to anyone.
He buried Aillet’s face deeper into his chest and spoke first to Duke Hispenril.
“I will return to the Duke’s Castle.”
Because of their close proximity, he could clearly feel divine fever beginning to rise in her body.
The after-effects of Divine Descent and Demonization would likely be significant. That location was suitable for safe rest.
Saintess Muriel Philise showed signs of wanting to object but did not act on it.
An implicit agreement was reached in silence.
“I’ll ask you this. Go ahead first, grandson-in-law.”
“Yes.”
A cluster of light fragments created by the Spatial Teleportation Stone enveloped Tesillid and Aillet and vanished.
Before long, dawn was breaking on the eastern horizon. Not only had the new moon passed, but the night had completely receded.
It was the end of the catastrophe.
Chapter 42: Penalty Period
The great catastrophe, Doomsday, elevated from Walpurgis Night, had finally ended.
Each nation on the Serentra Continent exerted its full effort in disaster recovery. They restored damaged capital buildings and facilities, and honored the deceased who had become wandering spirits.
As patients afflicted by poisons leaked from dungeons continued to pass away, the funeral dirges echoing through each city showed no sign of ending.
At least the situations in Peronsa, the ducal capital that suppressed the dungeon burst early, and Wilhellon, the royal capital, were relatively stable.
Pan-El, the capital of the Holy Theocracy, and Gehennid, the capital of the Magic Republic, which were trampled by the demon army, were no different from ruins after the war.
The public sentiment in the capitals inevitably turned grim, leading to a deterioration of public order.
The situation in Pan-El, the capital of the Holy Theocracy, was particularly severe.
The Pontifical Palace’s strategy of holding out using the ‘Holy Ground Construction’ artifact naturally caused repercussions.
At the time, due to the Pontifical Palace’s capacity limitations, many citizens of the Holy Theocracy could not enter the safe zones and were abandoned.
With the emergence of those holding great distrust and dissatisfaction towards the religious order, public sentiment was inevitably severely affected.
Regrettably, the Pontifical Palace neglected them.
Partially due to the leadership being replaced by the black demon swordsman’s attack, leaving no leeway, and partially because distrust towards the religious order has traditionally been disparaged as a lack of faith.
Coincidentally, the Pontifical Palace took on a role deemed far more important than appeasing public sentiment.
Namely, the relief of patients suffering from lung disease.
Those who suffered from lung necrosis due to ‘Dungeon Drain’ could not be cured by ordinary priestly healing arts or healing potions.
Only the healing of one who had awakened the 8th Divine Power Tier was effective.
Currently, apart from the Holy Saint Aillet Rodelain, the only person capable of wielding 8th Divine Power Tier was Saintess Muriel Philise.
Muriel, true to a Saintess, performed the sacrament of the sick in the capitals of various nations and was revered.
It was a natural progression for her status to rise.
The problem was that there were too many patients for one person to handle.
Inevitably, the Pontifical Palace decided to set priorities.
They decided to treat patients who showed great faith in God first, but the criteria for measuring that faith were extremely secular.
Thus, a harsh situation was about to occur where lives would be prioritized based on the amount of offerings.
Fortunately, the Pontifical Palace’s actions were curbed.
The Rodel Potion Merchant Guild completed the development of a cure.
They said the main ingredient of the cure was Elephantipe Herb, which had never been treated as a medicinal herb before.
However, the Rodel Merchant Guild seemed to have prepared in advance, securing large quantities of this herb and quickly commencing mass production.
Thanks to this, the cure was supplied to those who needed it, and while Saintess Muriel was relieved of some burden, she could no longer enjoy a monopolistic status.
Thus, it had been ten days since Doomsday occurred.
The Serentra Continent was steadily erasing the scars of the catastrophe.
Even while the Holy Saint slept.✠
Under a clear sky, well-cultivated herb fields stretched to the horizon.
This place was a Dungeon Farm, hidden beneath Gillette Count’s Castle.
It was an extremely important place, responsible for producing over 90% of the Elephantipe Herb used to make the lung disease cure.
The ones tending the herbs were seven skeletons with glistening white bones.
They had just finished their day’s labor and were resting, and their appearance was quite different from usual.
Privilege for Possessors