Ch.242242. Emil Albieu (1)

In the northern part of the Human Empire, Bremia was one of countless free cities.

Like many of the Empire’s free cities, those who rebelled against excessive taxation found themselves under attack by the Empire’s Half-Hippogriff Knights, who arrived exactly eight days after the rebellion began.

Half-Hippogriff.

Hippogriffs are hybrid creatures born from the breeding of horses and griffins for some reason.

When these hippogriffs are bred once more with horses, the resulting offspring become unique riding beasts exclusive to the Human Empire.

Griffins, being more intelligent than humans, require relationships as equals to be ridden.

The Hippogriff, created when the Romans forcibly bred griffins with horses to obtain more tameable mounts than the sharp-tempered griffins, remains a powerful mid-tier monster despite its mixed horse lineage.

While Half-Hippogriffs inherit bloodlines from two fierce yet noble beasts, they ultimately resemble horses more than their griffin ancestors.

Though quite large with an eagle’s head, some remaining feathers, and sharp talons on their forelegs…

Their overall physical form closely resembles a horse, and their intelligence is only slightly higher than that of a horse.

They’re classified as 7th-tier magical beasts, significantly below the 5th and 6th-tier griffins and hippogriffs, but in exchange, Half-Hippogriffs are much easier to tame due to their horse-like intelligence.

As a result, Half-Hippogriffs have become the symbol of the Human Empire’s elite cavalry.

These powerful battle-beasts can multiply the combat effectiveness of the Empire’s cavalry—

“Retreat! Retreat!”

“B-but…! What about our comrades’ bodies?!”

“Then die collecting corpses if you want! I’m retreating first!”

In the end, the free city’s army was annihilated without putting up a proper fight, forcing them to hole up behind the city walls for defense… but…

“Damn it, what are we supposed to do now?!”

“That’s right! The priest is dead, and we only have three days’ worth of supplies in the city!!”

In a siege where the defenders have made no preparations whatsoever, there is typically no solution to be found.

At the very least, Bremia’s internal defense system itself isn’t too bad.

The hastily arrived cavalry only brought hand cannons as artillery, and they didn’t bring any mid-tier forces capable of scaling the walls alone.

Meanwhile, Bremia’s separatist rebels had well-built walls to defend against wild magical beasts, along with various artillery pieces and ample gunpowder and shells.

To put it bluntly, 250 low-tier cavalry could never breach these walls no matter what; proper siege engines would be absolutely necessary to capture this fortress.

But… do you know what?

In fact, the most common and fundamental approach in siege warfare is to surround the fortress, settle in, and simply wait for the defenders to surrender.

Since Bremia’s main industry was operating nearby mines and the city purchased its food rather than producing it, this tactic—based on the judgment that there wouldn’t be much food inside—was the perfect answer.

With self-sufficiency impossible within the walls and only three days’ worth of food remaining, there were no external forces that could come to Bremia’s aid.

Moreover, the Empire’s artillery units would arrive with siege cannons in just three days.

In this situation, launching an attack would actually be the more foolish option.

And so, Bremia found itself surrounded by Half-Hippogriff cavalry.

After much confusion and deliberation, the city council finally decided to rely on faith.

…This might sound like the act of deranged cult members, but in a world where gods truly exist, relying on faith isn’t necessarily a bad option.

In particular, the city council wasn’t simply praying aimlessly for divine intervention; they planned to amplify the effects of a summoning ritual through collective prayer.

Since most imperial citizens had experienced magical amplification through choir performances during religious holidays, the majority of Bremia’s citizens chose this gambling-like method out of desperation, but…

Realistically speaking, the chances of success were extremely low.

Such large-scale rituals naturally require meticulous procedures and processes, but unfortunately, these people were merely laymen who had converted to the Cult of Vengeance no more than a few months ago at most.

The one priest of the Cult of Vengeance who had been present died while helping soldiers escape during the previous battle. What could these recent converts to Ma-Duk’s faith possibly know?

Naturally, everything from procedures to processes deviated from proper ritual standards, and critically, there was no priest to conduct the summoning ritual.

Unlike the common belief that priestly magic draws upon sacred power bestowed by gods, divine magic cast by priests is still “magic” where the caster’s own capabilities have significant influence.

Therefore, even if these innocent Bremians drew magic circles with blood and prayed earnestly according to what they’d heard, it would be miraculous if even a single Blood Warrior appeared, let alone the Angel of Vengeance the priest had told them about.

…That’s how it should have been.

※ ※ ※

The variables could be divided into three main factors.

First, although the ritual itself was amateurish, its components coincidentally matched those used in proper ceremonies.

From drawing the ritual magic circle with blood donated by devout believers, to the fact that this magic circle happened to be a ten-pointed star symbolizing the sacred number 10 of the God of Vengeance.

Additionally, the offering used during the ritual was none other than blood—specifically, blood donated by ten devout believers burning with vengeance, collected in ten metal cups.

Furthermore, the prayer assembly consisted of exactly 100 people—10 multiplied by 10.

Their earnest preparation of the ritual to the best of their knowledge had a significant impact.

The second variable was the unique nature of the land where Bremia was situated.

Unknown to everyone, even Ma-Duk himself, this location was once the stronghold of the Blood God who preceded Ma-Duk.

Although this occurred at least a thousand years ago, the altered properties of the soil—resulting from the previous Blood God’s centuries-long residence—still remained.

Many such grand rituals draw upon the magical energy flowing through the earth’s veins, and coincidentally, the nature of the magical energy here aligned perfectly with the ritual’s purpose.

The final crucial variable stemmed from secrets harbored by the city council chairman who conducted the ritual—secrets unknown even to himself.

Unbeknownst to him, the chairman was an innate magic caster like certain races, but his magical potential was so minimal that even he remained unaware of it.

Additionally, impressed by his determination to fulfill his responsibilities to the end, the God of Vengeance bestowed a blessing upon him, naturally granting him the “Mark of Avenge.”

These two conditions miraculously aligned, making the chairman function as a quasi-priest, unwittingly giving him the power to actually perform the ritual.

Thus, all conditions for the ritual were met in this place.

If there had been issues with the ritual preparations, something strange would have been summoned; if performed on land other than Bremia, nothing would have happened due to energy deficiency; and if anyone other than the council chairman had been the caster, casting the magic would have been impossible from the start.

However, when all these demanding conditions aligned perfectly at that very moment—like Tetris blocks exploding into points—they created a tremendous synergistic effect.

[…I ask you.]

As a result, Bremia’s rebels managed to summon the ultimate prize that no one could have anticipated.

[Was it you who summoned me?]

The being summoned through the ritual was none other than a high-ranking servant of the Bleeding God of Vengeance—the Avatar of Avenge.

And not just any avatar, but one considered to be the very first among all Avatars of Vengeance.

The First Avatar of Avenge, Emil Albieu.