Ch.6868. People Waiting for Help (4)

Crackle.

A sound like static electricity amplified dozens of times erupted between the child’s right side and Isis’s hand. Isis frowned and withdrew her hand. The healing light didn’t penetrate the child’s body but scattered, dispersing light around. The man’s face turned pale, and I quietly observed Isis.

“I didn’t think it would be easy, but…”

Isis muttered, clenching and unclenching her hand as if it felt numb.

“That transformed body is rejecting magical penetration. Definitely a property opposite to my divine power.”

Isis exhaled softly. Above the child’s body, remnants of Isis’s divine power writhed like lightning, swirling around. Isis’s blue eyes fiercely tracked those traces.

“Do you think you can remove that?”

“If only my magic could penetrate that skin.”

Isis said this while rolling up her sleeve again and placing her hand over the child’s right shoulder. Though the child’s body showed no signs of life, the occasional writhing of tentacles and blood vessels protruding from the flesh, as if breathing, was disturbing.

“If I can just succeed in penetrating it, I should be able to do it because my magic and that flesh are opposing forces. I’ll make it happen.”

Isis narrowed her eyes with determination. Once again, mana stirred from Isis’s core. The flow traveled down her arm to her hand. This time, Isis manifested a more solidly concentrated magical power.

Crack-sizzle!

The black skin and Isis’s divine power clashed again. Isis maintained her magic without withdrawing. The sound of distorting magic against the foreign substance was as painful as fingernails scratching a wet glass window. A bead of sweat trickled down Isis’s forehead.

“I can do this.”

Isis repeated like a mantra to herself. Wax dripped from the candle the man had lit. I closed my eyes gently, sensing the ominous silence outside.

“[The air is stirring.]”

I felt it too. Though hidden by the window, something was about to happen where the bishop, Marianne, and Aryen were.

==

Bones were crushed. The woman rolled her eyes back, half-losing consciousness as she collapsed backward. Her leg lost its shape with a single hammer blow. Ugh, ugh. While she couldn’t even fully express her pain, ‘Teacher’ supported her back. Tears streamed down the woman’s face.

“Well done. Truly a courageous act.”

‘Teacher’ placed his hand over the woman’s leg. She was writhing in agony. Dark, ominous magical power rose from ‘Teacher’s’ hand. Like an abyssal current, it began enveloping the woman’s leg. The woman’s labored breathing subsided.

“Here we can learn a lesson.”

‘Teacher’ stood up, removing his hand from the woman.

“Pain is only temporary.”

His voice approached those behind him like a sweet temptation. ‘Teacher’ extended his hand to the woman while looking at her. The woman took it, opening her eyes hazily as if in ecstasy. The tears of pain transformed into twisted tears of rapture flowing down with her expression. ‘Teacher’ tightened his grip on the woman’s hand.

“The reward is eternal.”

‘Teacher’ helped the woman up and walked toward the people lined up behind her.

“Now, brother, what ailment did you seek treatment for?”

“I… had a broken arm.”

The young man answered, unconsciously clutching his right arm. A smile appeared on ‘Teacher’s’ face.

“Do I need to help you this time too?”

“No.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, the man slammed his arm on the brewery floor and took a hammer to strike his right arm again. Once, twice. When the arm wouldn’t break but only caused pain, ‘Teacher’ snatched the hammer from the man and swung it.

Bang.

Then ‘Teacher’ bent down to alleviate the man’s pain. Marianne turned her head toward Bishop Andre, giving him a look asking for orders, but Bishop Andre merely shook his head slowly. Next. The next person. People restored their healed wounds and collapsed on the floor, becoming increasingly uninhibited about harming their bodies.

They cut their arms with razors, crushed their ankles, and made holes in their bodies. A person who said they had received eye treatment stabbed their eye with an awl. A thick liquid mixture of blood and vitreous humor flowed down.

“Good. Very commendable.”

‘Teacher’ said, removing his hand from the face of the person who had punctured their eye. His gaze caught the next person. A woman of indeterminate age. She was in the process of hardening her face as she watched the people before her. ‘Teacher’ tilted his head sideways, observing her reaction.

“You haven’t been here long, have you?”

The woman trembled and nodded, confirming it.

“Sister, what ailment did you receive treatment for?”

“…My side… was pierced… by debris.”

I see. ‘Teacher’ nodded emotionlessly and walked toward a corner of the brewery. From the floor where barrels and pipes were scattered messily, ‘Teacher’ picked up a metal pipe. It was a pipe with an end cut sharply like a spear. When ‘Teacher’ held out the pipe, the woman hesitated for a long time, staring at it.

“If you dislike it, refuse. But whether I, or our brothers, can show mercy to someone like you, I’m not sure.”

‘Teacher’s’ voice sank eerily. The woman, arms trembling, reluctantly took the pipe. Her hand holding the pipe was shaking. If she were to pierce her side with that again, pain relief or not, she would die. Marianne was wavering.

“Now, sister. Choose. If you need my help, say you need it.”

The woman’s eyes darted wildly. The bishop’s gaze bound her, preventing her from turning away. The woman raised the pipe high as if about to plunge it in. Just as Marianne’s presence wavered and was about to reveal itself, someone approached in front of Marianne, the bishop, and Aryen. They were people with presences similar to ‘Teacher.’

“Our order keeps a close eye on the movements of heresy inquisitors like you. We are more deeply embedded in the world than you think.”

‘Teacher’ said in a sneering voice. Bishop Andre looked at the curving blades of the evil god worshippers thrust before their eyes.

“Now, brothers and sisters. Look at this. These Blue Orthodox Church people have come here with daggers hidden in their bosoms to harm us. They will take us away and tie us to chairs in the church basement.”

‘Teacher’ started flapping his lips again.

“They claim to serve a merciful god but show no mercy. They will burn your chest with hot irons, stab your thighs with awls, place you on burning wooden horses, and torture you to find out if you’re possessed by evil spirits or in league with demons. And if you can’t withstand the torture and confess the truth, they will hang you or burn you alive.”

People began to murmur. They started showing hostility toward the three, not even thinking about how ‘Teacher’ had just brutally abused, broken, and torn their bodies.

“There must be others hiding in this village.”

“Catch them.”

“We’ll catch them and bring them here.”

The murmuring grew louder. The door opened, and people began rushing outside. Madness had settled in the residents’ eyes. They shouted in anger as they burst through the brewery door. ‘Teacher’ spread his arms wide and looked at the woman holding the pipe.

“Now let us show them! Our united front that will never yield easily! Our resolve not to submit to the lies and deception that ignore our pain!”

The woman’s eyes were growing dim. The worshippers’ gazes urged her toward death. ‘Teacher’ smiled.

“Now then, do you know what to do, sister?”

Thrust that iron spear into your side.

At that moment, someone’s figure disappeared from the darkness.

Slash.

“Huh?”

There was only one sound of swinging. But the sword strikes that cut through the air exceeded ten. Blood. In the darkness, blood was like black water. Blood spurted into the sky and fell to the ground, creating a sea of blood. The arms of the evil god worshippers who had been standing firmly were flying into the air.

Thud-thud-thud.

‘Teacher’ looked down at his severed left arm and slowly raised his head to look around. The commotion he had stirred up disappeared instantly, as if muzzled.

“…Huh?”

Emanating a chilling killing intent that overwhelmed even his own darkness, a man was walking steadily out of the darkness and crowd. The man was holding a drawn sword. Blood dripped from the blade that had severed all the evil god worshippers’ arms in the blink of an eye.

“This is a much more irritating sight than I expected.”

The mercenary, Aryen, walked to the center. He looked at the trembling woman holding the pipe with disapproving eyes, then took the pipe from her hand and threw it into a corner of the brewery. The empty pipe clattered as it hit the floor.

“You, go sit in that corner over there.”

Aryen pushed the woman away, and she looked at Aryen with a dazed expression before backing away. Marianne approached and put her arm around the woman’s shoulders.

“By the way, thanks for sending away all the troublemakers for us.”

Aryen’s voice dominated everyone present.

“These so-called evil god worshippers are dumber than I thought.”

‘Teacher’s’ face contorted as he leaped backward. The blood pouring from his severed left arm turned into tentacles and shot toward Aryen. Before Aryen could even raise his sword with a frown, daggers wrapped in light flew in and pierced the tentacles.

“You, your skills are certainly useful. If you hadn’t moved quickly, things might have gotten a bit difficult.”

Bishop Andre approached beside the mercenary, cracking his joints.

“Marianne, take that woman and get out of here. After you get her to safety, go support the others. We’ll handle things here.”

Marianne nodded and took the woman outside. The brewery door that had been wide open closed with a clatter, and the light emitted by Bishop Andre’s sacred artifact illuminated the darkness. The bishop’s face twisted in disgust as he saw ‘Teacher’s’ face with his hood removed.

“You lot are definitely not in your right minds.”

The upper part of ‘Teacher’s’ face was covered with tentacles and flesh, like the boy who had been implanted with fragments of the calamity. The left arm that Aryen had cut off writhed with tentacles like those of an octopus.

“You’ve already gone beyond what could be called human.”

“Kehehehe…. It was a foolish choice to decide to fight us at night.”

As ‘Teacher’ raised his hand as if signaling, the bodies of the evil god worshippers twisted and began transforming into strange, monstrous forms. Some looked like a mixture of grasshopper and human, while others had scales growing on their bodies like snakes.

“What do you think?”

“Do as you please.”

Aryen muttered, drawing out aura from his sword. As he did so, he glanced behind him. The place where Isis was treating the child. They would probably be discovered by the villagers soon.

In the end, the world is like this. It doesn’t change with luck or fortune. It doesn’t smile even when you struggle honestly. He wasn’t sure how the hero’s party would respond to the approaching villagers, but he didn’t know how long he would remain still if harm came to Isis.

“…Yes. You’ll feel it this time too.”

Faintly feeling anger toward the hero, Aryen swung his sword at the evil god worshippers.