episode_0097

Pewong – ! Pewong – !

Countless magic circles embroidered in the sky.

Various colors of magic bursting out from there relentlessly pummeling the golden sturdy shield.

The harsh noise from the collision between the shield and magic, and the slow but steady erosion of the sacred barrier.

This spectacle was enough to instill fear in everyone residing in the white fortress.

As the priestesses of the goddess panicked, the head priest facing the priests maintaining the shield asked in a shaky voice, “How much longer do you think we can hold?”

“Shortest would be a day, longest maybe two. But with this relentless pounding…”

“It will be hard to last until tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

The priest answered with a pale face, pouring more divine power into the shield, and the distressed high priest, unable to bear the sight, turned his gaze towards the body of the pope.

“…Will the witch really come to help?”

He did not believe the pope’s prophecy at all.

A witch, treated as an enemy in the church, saving the church?

With everything that has been done so far, what good would it do for that arrogant and prideful being to lend a hand?

If the church were to fall, the witches would be the first to rejoice.

It would be nothing short of removing the last restraints on them, and even if they helped, the harm would far outweigh the benefits.

From the witches’ perspective, there is no reason to risk themselves and help the church.

“Especially if ‘that witch’ is the one coming to help, wouldn’t that be even more unlikely? Your Holiness.”

Rumors had spread.

In recent months, there was a witch traveling the continent, dealing with disasters alongside “dangerous individuals.”

Unlike other witches who quietly avoid the church’s interference, this peculiar witch made her presence known to all.

Perhaps it was certain that if she came to help the church, it would be that witch, but…

“I say this. Those beings are far more terrifying than the apostates before us.”

As a high priest with a history of fierce battles, he found the group of witches far more menacing than Lorian and the elven tribe.

Starting with the enemies of the church, the Pasible family, and even Alain, who was a candidate for saint but recently turned apostate.

Except for one dragonian who resided in the west of the continent, the entire group, including the church’s enemies, were hostile figures.

Until launching a preemptive strike, he could not help but doubt the pope’s prophecy to refrain from attacking.

“Omnipotent Agathon, share your wisdom with these endlessly foolish servants.”

The frustration that the fate of the church lay in the hands of the unworthy.

And the despair of being in a situation where no one would help.

The high priest prayed in the direction of the altar to alleviate his despondency even a little.

Then, whether his sincere prayer received a response from the goddess or not.

Kwaaaaa – !

From afar, a sound of something fiercely approaching echoed.

“…What is this?”

As the sound drew closer, the high priest harbored doubts.

It certainly couldn’t be the empire’s aid.

Having let go of opportunities for help due to preserving meager pride, who could it be?

Is it really as the pope said, that the witch is coming to help?

With a glimmer of hope, the high priest looked in the direction of the sound, but when the identity of the sound was revealed moments later.

“What… in the world…!”

Facing a foreboding and dreadful figure, he could do nothing but scream.

A massive metallic object of ebony hue.

It seemed to be flying towards the white fortress, as if to shatter the golden shield surrounding it.

…Will the shield left by the departed pope be able to withstand this attack?

After a brief moment of contemplation, the High Priest slowly nodded.

A sense that always responded in times of trouble.

His extraordinary survival instinct was incessantly sending him warnings.

“Cease the maintenance of the protective barrier and disperse the power!!!”

In an instant.

He shouted with all his might, manifesting the protective spell with the sacred power he had saved up, just in case of a potentially dreadful situation.

And his ominous premonition became reality.

Boom!!!

Crash!!!!

Upon hearing the deafening noise, he snapped back to reality only to find the temple and the statue of the goddess in ruins beyond recognition.

“Ah… Ahhh…”

It felt like the apocalypse had arrived.

For a while, the High Priest sighed heavily with a dazed expression, then suddenly opened his eyes wide, revealing burning anger.

“These blasphemers!!!!!”

Your Holiness.

Remember, they were the ones who attacked first.

From now on, it’s all self-defense.

The ash-colored smoke billowed up from the holy site.

There, another fierce battle was about to commence.

—–

The plan itself was simple and straightforward.

Honestly, it was so basic that there wasn’t much to explain.

Strap onto a rocket, fly to the enemy nation, land directly at the temple, have a conversation with the goddess—the mastermind behind everything—and return to the empire using the spare rocket.

From the listener’s perspective, it was a plan so rudimentary and ignorant that it could drain one’s enthusiasm. However, in reality, there was no better plan than this.

Someone once said,

If possible, resolving things through dialogue without fighting is the best way.

Given the chance, I too would prefer to resolve everything through dialogue rather than confrontation.

After all, I’m not particularly fond of diving headfirst into situations.

But the adversary was the enemy nation.

Just like the foes encountered before, they were beings with whom dialogue was futile.

If the attack spells didn’t come flying before the conversation even started, it would be considered fortunate.

Simply engaging head-on was the proper approach.

Why not take a detour?

I did consider it, but the enemy nation was currently wreaking havoc in Lorian.

It was better to head straight to the holy site rather than risk encountering Lorian and their allies by taking a detour.

Dealing with those lunatics was far more comfortable than dealing with the zealots of the enemy nation.

Didn’t the Dwarf Sage discard stable samples for a reason?

Anyway, with such a straightforward plan, the briefing at the tavern was brief.

Just inform them of the safety precautions when strapping onto the rocket and the safety measures during descent.

My comrades are simple beings who don’t entertain complex thoughts amidst chaotic battlefields.

There was no point in detailing intricate plans since they would likely just listen absentmindedly.

When the designated time arrived, I instructed them to gather at the rendezvous point and let them roam freely until then.

So, on the day of departure to the enemy nation.

As we departed from the mansion and neared the border, the Dwarf Sage took out items prepared from his spatial bag.

The object that emerged from the small bag was, as expected, a large and beautiful dark missile.

With a proud smile, the Sage began to explain the weapon he had crafted.

“I’ve been preparing diligently for three days. Sacrificing stability, I’ve amplified its power. The chances of this flying properly… probably around 30%.”

“So, there’s a 70% chance it either explodes or fails to detonate?”

“That’s right. I tried to enhance stability, but unfortunately, this was the best I could do. Perhaps… 30% is too low…?”

“No, 30% should be sufficient. To me, it actually seems quite high?”

In gacha games, the probability of pulling the highest-grade character is usually around 0.7% to 3%, so if it’s around 30%, isn’t that a pretty good deal?

Although the problem lies in the 70% chance of losing your life, well, the goddess will probably adjust that anyway.

Right before the verge of failure, could there be a way to help Guguk? If there’s a chance, wouldn’t you lend a hand?

As it turned out, my thoughts were on point; the rocket prepared by Stroheim soared into the sky without any issues.

Wrapped in a thick mana shield, there was no sense of resistance, making the experience of boarding akin to riding a thrilling amusement park attraction.

Although the motion sickness was a bit of a problem, it was something that could be resolved with magic and divine spells, so we safely flew towards the vicinity of Guguk’s capital.

Just as the capital, surrounded by a golden protective barrier, faintly came into view, the distant sound of fierce shelling reached my ears, sparking my curiosity.

The attacks should have started by now, so why aren’t they coming?

Why is Guguk’s capital covered in a golden shield?

The questions didn’t linger for long. Before long, the sight of the Grand Forest Elves surrounding the capital caught my eye.

Casting spells with an air of assured conquest, the elves suddenly froze in disbelief upon seeing a massive dark object flying towards them from afar.

During the brief pause in the attack, as the golden shield drew closer, I shouted vigorously, “Descend!”

Plummeting terrifyingly from the rocket, it crashed forcefully into the golden shield.

Boom!

Crash!

As the deafening noise subsided amidst the ash-gray smoke, both the fortress and the colossal statue of the goddess had inexplicably vanished.

“…Inspiration.”

“Hah! Why do you call?”

“Isn’t the power… too strong?”

Despite the initially simple and crude plan, the situation had spiraled out of control from the start.

Feeling a tug at the back of my neck, I chuckled wryly.

Whether he understood my emotions or not, the Dwarf Inspiration grinned cheerfully, raising his thumb.

“Satisfactory! Indeed, Dwarven scientific prowess reigns supreme on the continent!!!!! Hahaha!!!”

This is no time to laugh.

You damn Inspiration fool.