Ch.83Cathedral Nightmare (2)

Light glimmers in the eastern sky.

The sky turns blue. It begins to embrace the dawn.

Durin rides his warhorse to the fortress gate. Five hundred undead wait to send off the Regent. Everyone has gathered in one place, except for those deployed on guard duty.

“Your Excellency. We await news of your victory.”

The forces led by Berdia stand at attention. Their reverence spreads across the twilight world.

Instead of answering, Durin firmly grasps the fluttering flag of the Demon Lord. This was his way of accepting their loyalty—characteristic of Durin’s devotion that eschewed flowery words. As if the Demon Lord were beside him, the Regent declared he would fulfill his duty in the human realm as well.

“Please return safely.”

Carrying the small wishes of the demons, they depart.

The party consists of Durin, Ludmila, and three heroes. As the five warhorses begin to stamp their feet, the quiet dawn gradually awakens. Birds frantically flee, sensing the demons’ ominous presence. The fear of death pushes living creatures into chaos.

“……”

The hero stares blankly at the scene. Each time the powerfully advancing horse follows the winding path, the hero’s body sways precariously from side to side.

“He seems to be in worse condition than before.”

“He’s the same as always, Ludmila.”

“Hmm. Is that so?”

Their conversation makes the journey seem short. Durin examines the parchment once more. It contains only the essential information provided by Ludmila. Looking at the map of San Moriano Cathedral, the Regent mentally reviews the plan once more. He pays extra attention, as this is the demons’ first move that both angels and humans are watching closely.

“We’ll enter without delay once we reach the cathedral.”

“Our destination is underground. We should find information about the forgotten god there.”

“So the purpose of the hero arranged by the Prophecy Witch will be revealed.”

“More precisely, it’s the grand design drawn by the Primordial Demon Lord.”

“He appears consistently in every myth.”

“Because he’s the warrior destined by fate. And it seems you’re next in line to inherit.”

The Grand Sorcerer speaks as if observing ancient streams of light from an observatory.

“Try grasping the fate that shone 1,000 years ago. You’re more than qualified.”

“You’ve changed much from the past when you saw me only as a rival for power.”

“Because it truly seems within reach now.”

Ludmila stretches her hand toward the sky. She gazes at the flickering dawn light beyond her split fingers.

“Not an era of decline, but the dawn of a new age. As we pass the turning point toward the rapids, I must support the challenger as a sorcerer.”

“Is that your duty?”

“It’s important enough to dedicate my entire soul to.”

The sorcerer pulls back her hood. Her white hair flutters in the wind.

Looking at the Demon Castle flag in Durin’s hand, she expresses her wish.

“So do well. As one who gropes through the night sky, I want to see where this ends.”

Their conversation on the way to San Moriano Cathedral comes to a brief end.

#

Morning breaks.

The time when the heavens once again look down upon this world. When the sun, symbol of the divine, touches every corner, humans feel grace.

The pulse of life should have been beating.

But in a world destroyed by the Crusades, only ruins remain.

The silhouette of the cathedral, drawn in black beyond the distant horizon, stands as proof. The place once dedicated to praising the heavens has become a stronghold for heretics, surrounded by malice. With each advance of their warhorses, screams echo through the air.

“Ugh.”

“Kuk!”

The hero party following behind cannot bear it and cover their ears. Only Cael absorbs and caresses this energy. He silently accepts the world’s sorrow.

“H-how much further must we go!”

“My ears hurt too much!”

Those who cannot endure cry out. They are desperate. They want to quickly escape this land where the fear of death creeps in viscously. Ludmila turns back and shouts.

“Now!”

“What?”

“I said now!”

Beyond the flying hooves, the sorcerer is smiling.

“I’ll cast a spell, so follow closely!”

“Uwaaa…”

“Durin will break through for us!”

The excited demon forms a seal. Black demonic energy envelops the black horse. With bulging veins, their speed increases.

The clattering sound, along with the rising sun, signals the urgency of the situation.

Bright light shines on the once-dark cathedral walls.

The heads of the Dark Order’s sparsely positioned guards come into view. They seem to have hurriedly emerged at the early commotion. As the party draws closer, the guards’ increasingly frantic footsteps become visible. They must already know—demons have descended upon this world.

That’s why they couldn’t respond effectively.

Though they oppose the Papacy, the Dark Order doesn’t worship demons. While they only cried for revenge, Durin provided an answer before they could properly prepare.

Saaaah…

It was like a snake. Black demonic energy spread across the ground. Its life-draining greed stole the sunlight.

It showed its fierce momentum toward the open sky.

“U-uwaaak!”

“Kyaaaaa!”

Screams erupted. Terror was instilled in the humans who had been scrambling on the distant wall. Faced with a being of death straight from mythology, the heretics scattered in panic.

Of course, they didn’t survive. Enveloped by the passing demonic energy, they immediately collapsed to the ground.

Their twitching movements were their last. As fingers grasping for life clutched at the soil, the Demon Realm Regent reached the wall.

Crunch!

Bodies are crushed under hooves. Even the possibility of survival is erased.

At that moment, everyone lost their will. They slumped down to meet their approaching death.

“Ah, demons. Have demons truly come?”

As they could no longer hold their crumbling bodies, Durin approached. He looked into the corpse’s eyes, and beyond.

“Tell your master this: The time for vengeance has come, and you shall never return alive. Betrayer Lucretia.”

“Aaaagh!!”

With applied force, the head crumbled. Unable to withstand anymore, it shattered into pieces.

It was a death that left not even messy remains. As black demonic energy swept through the area, it devoured everything like primordial terrain. Just as the sun was beginning to brighten the sky, no enemy survived around San Moriano Cathedral.

“Uugh…”

The elf who followed was the first to feel terror. A fear greater than the bloody scene surrounded her.

In the eerily peaceful landscape, she heard the screams of those who received no salvation.

“What are you doing?”

“Y-yes?”

“Bring the hero. We’re entering the underground.”

Durin wasted no time. Passing through the neatly arranged estate, he kicked the blocked door.

Bang!!

His military boot crushed the iron door, and a fallen god welcomed him from afar.

Light shooting through the blood-stained mosaic illuminated the ruins inside. In a space once overflowing with worshippers’ praise, malice now poured out. The cries that leaked through the door were worse than the souls Durin had killed.

The hero party retreated with bird-like screams.

“You’ve come.”

Something rises from the other side. It had a human form.

With an old man’s voice containing kindness, yet even that was grotesque.

Like a black soul draped in death.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Great Demon Durin.”

“Did the Saint inform you?”

“I’ve known for a long time. Your reputation is like the pain of angels.”

“You were a clergyman.”

The old man gave a dry laugh at the passing observation.

“Now I’m just a waiting spirit. I’ve been waiting for the fate that would eventually come.”

“I suppose Lucretia ordered you to answer thus.”

“I couldn’t do anything about the predetermined owner of my soul. I decided to offer my body to her, to bring down the Papacy. Now I can only go with the flow.”

The red malice grew stronger. What started as a butterfly’s wing-flap gradually increased in size, raging like a storm. The stones in the ruins began to roll.

“If only I had a little more time.”

“That is fate, spirit.”

“How regrettable.”

Demonic energy and malice collided.

Two beings faced off over the path to the cathedral’s underground.

One to claim the fate of the demon realm, the other looking toward final salvation.

“O Saint. Accept the soul of your humble apostle!”

He exchanged his soul for a corrupted being.

His old, shabby body transformed into muscular form like Balrog’s and roared. Countless dead souls were sucked into the storm. Hundreds of thousands of lives lost in war were used for this one purpose.

“A good start.”

Durin smiled in response. He did not draw his sword.

Loosening his shoulders casually, he welcomed the first challenger.