Ch.153153. The Eternal Temple

After a moment of solemnity over this corpse that had been consumed by faith and madness.

“So, you came looking for me….”

“Yes, the Empire’s main force is approaching. Therefore, the Bleeding One has sent his messenger, instructing us to guide you.”

“A messenger… I see.”

They were walking toward what appeared to be ruins of what was once an administrative and judicial district, following behind Persia who led the way as they conversed.

“—Thanks to this, even the poorest person can be helped to recover by the Order if they have the will to work.”

“Indeed… that’s admirable.”

Since the ruins were quite far away, they were making small talk.

“So you are the vanguard, and there’s a separate main force?”

“That’s correct, O Chosen One. They wear red armor and are called the Avenger Legion.”

They mostly discussed detailed information about the Order, or how society functioned under the Order’s rule.

While the assault team members looked at Bjorn with eyes full of admiration and reverence, they all continued their pleasant conversation as they gradually made their way to their destination.

“…This is it. Enter alone.”

After some time, Persia pointed to a door embedded in a wall among the ruins.

For a moment, Bjorn felt a slight suspicion, but he quickly convinced himself that the messenger wouldn’t lie and opened the door wide.

Then, where there should have been just a wall, there stretched a staircase extending deep into the darkness beyond.

Even with Bjorn’s senses, he couldn’t detect what lay beyond that darkness—stairs that appeared to continue endlessly, quite literally.

After staring at it briefly, Bjorn moved his feet without hesitation and began to push through the darkness where he couldn’t see even an inch ahead with his keen senses.

“…..”

Nothing, not a single sensation could be felt by Bjorn now.

The darkness had taken away not just his visual information but all of Bjorn’s senses; the only thing he could feel was the touch of his feet on the stairs.

Though it was a darkness where he couldn’t even feel his own body moving, there was not a hint of hesitation in Bjorn’s movements.

Wrapped in infinite faith toward the Bleeding God of Vengeance, he walked toward the bottom with a pace that was reverent yet not particularly slow.

At some point, Bjorn felt his senses returning to him.

First came touch, then taste, followed by smell and hearing. Slowly his vision began to return, and simultaneously, his ability to sense the magical power unique to those who had reached higher realms was reactivated.

And in the midst of this.

Bjorn was shocked to see that he had already descended all the stairs, and before him stood a massive mirror—and the reflection it showed.

‘What, what is this…?’

In the mirror, he was wearing an antique full-body black armor.

This armor, coated in pitch-black steel—made of adamantium—was decorated with golden orichalcum, giving off an antique and noble impression.

The helmet that completely covered his head had a crown-shaped decoration made of orichalcum, and behind him fluttered a cloak woven from adamantium thread.

Additionally, part of the armor’s breastplate protruded to form something resembling a hood, and overall, the entire armor had become thicker and more massive.

Compared to the adamantium rune armor he had worn before, this was more solid and generally larger and heavier.

Bjorn was surprised to find himself wearing this armor and was shocked that he could clearly feel sensations despite wearing it.

He could feel touch and measure temperature through the armor, and the helmet that completely covered his face without even eye holes did not restrict his senses at all.

Though he was definitely wearing armor, it felt as if he wasn’t, and despite its massiveness, Bjorn’s movements weren’t hindered at all.

Having donned this marvelous armor, Bjorn naturally understood who had given it to him.

The sacred symbol engraved on the breastplate, consisting of a white circle and a red cross.

This symbol was prominently displayed on the pauldrons and throughout the armor, proudly revealing its identity. Overcome with an indescribable sensation, Bjorn knelt down and said:

“O God who bleeds for us mortals, God of Vengeance… I am overwhelmed by your grace.”

Though his voice might have sounded calm, it was filled with such religious devotion that Bjorn could barely contain his immense emotion.

And then—

《Raise your head, my Bjorn.》

“……..?!!”

While kneeling with his head bowed in prayer, Bjorn heard a voice more beautiful and shocking than anything he could have imagined.

A momentary fear of looking up washed over him, but the urge to obey the command was stronger.

So Bjorn tried to calm his trembling body and raised his head, turning his gaze toward the direction of the voice.

“────.”

There stood a being whose appearance shocked even Bjorn.

Light, red light.

Bjorn felt it appropriate to describe the skeletal deity before him in such terms.

A skull that mimicked human form yet was decidedly not human, a skull emanating red light. The moment Bjorn saw the skeletal deity—Ma-Duk—he felt uncontrollable emotions surging within him.

Fear, shock, awe, joy, emotion, and—religious devotion.

These emotions welled up inside Bjorn, disappeared, and then returned as a storm raging in his heart.

All thoughts Bjorn had held until now vanished before this being.

His absolute master, who alone could exist, free from all mortal constraints, detached from the flow of fate.

Faced with this being, Bjorn froze, unable to speak, but despite this terrible rudeness, the skull-deity spoke mercifully.

《Your devotion has brought me here. Your vengeance has satisfied me. My Bjorn, thus I say to you.》

Bjorn, almost entranced by Ma-Duk’s words of praise, collected himself after hearing what followed and solemnly looked at his master.

《You have done well, Bjorn. I am proud of you.》

That solemnity, of course, crumbled under Ma-Duk’s sincere praise.

Bjorn had always considered his life a repetition of shame and defeat.

A shameful past of losing his family, losing his tribe, and eventually becoming a slave.

But at least now, Bjorn had been acknowledged that his life had meaning, and he shed tears in his heart that no one would ever see.

※ ※ ※

Thud, thud, thud.

Shortly after, when the conversation with Ma-Duk had ended

Bjorn moved forward without the sound of clanking or rattling metal, despite wearing such massive metal armor over his entire body.

And after climbing the stairs for some time.

Creeeeak.

The moment Bjorn opened the door that appeared before him without hesitation, there were people waiting beyond the door—visible to Bjorn’s eyes.

First, the red-armored warriors who caught Bjorn’s eye most prominently.

Clank!

Large warriors armed with spears and shields of the same color as their armor.

At least 2,000 warriors by Bjorn’s estimation knelt on one knee in respect as soon as they saw him.

Next to catch Bjorn’s eye were about 200 black warriors.

The 200 warriors led by the man who had introduced himself as Persia, the Holy Assault Team, also knelt.

And lined up beside them were 100 cavalry units, whose distinctive appearance also caught Bjorn’s attention.

Mounted on wolves and wearing red armor like the others, they seemed fitting for the one described as riding blood-soaked wolves.

Meanwhile, there were golem-towers mixed among them—surprisingly, they were 5-meter-tall towers made of golems.

Sensing auras from inside those golems, Bjorn focused his senses and was surprised to feel familiar life forces.

“Ha, hahahahahahaha!!!”

He burst into pleasant, refreshing laughter and slowly began to walk forward.

Remarkably, his fellow gladiators from the arena, whom he had considered a second family and thought dead, were still continuing their lives of struggle inside those stone bodies.

So Bjorn walked among them, laughing heartily, and then climbed atop a pile of rubble—and addressed those who looked at him with awe-filled eyes.

[My name is Bjorn Wolfson. Bjorn, son of Wolf.

I have destroyed the capital of the accursed Empire and killed countless false gods.

But there are still remnants who do not know this.

They are the Empire’s main force, a group of followers composed of slaves to the gods.

So to you, children of the Avenging One, the Bleeding God of Vengeance, soldiers of the Avenger Legion, I, Bjorn Wolfson, swear.]

BOOM!!

[The Empire will fall, and all false gods will die!!!

And all remaining Imperial legions will be destroyed by our hands!!

Therefore, I—The Chosen Avenger—declare here and now.

A holy war! A Crusade of Vengeance———!!]