Ch.88Hundred Days Battle (2)

“Advance! We must deal with that demon first to kill the damned Pope!”

“Will you yield to those abandoned by God? Draw your swords, all of you!”

Finally, the Dark Order made its move. Until the demon appeared, they had been cautiously observing the situation, but the moment the cathedral collapsed, they became aggressive. They realized that staying still would only lead to their demise. What they needed was a signal to announce the beginning of the war, and the Saint had appropriately provided it.

“I will baptize whoever kills the demon. If you wish to become an apostle, be the first to martyr yourself!”

The ability to inscribe power not of heaven onto one’s body. The Saint’s unidentified blessing stimulated their instincts.

“Could it be possible? The Crusaders and that creature might destroy each other.”

“Even if not the Crusaders, someone will charge in. If we attack when it’s weakened, we might win.”

“…I’ll pass.”

Some retained their reason, but from the moment they fell into religion, they were incapable of normal judgment. They were filled with thoughts of eliminating the enemy identified by the Saint. With illusory glory blinding them, baseless courage welled up instead of fear.

Especially the Black Knights, the Saint’s direct forces, began to obsessively focus on the demon.

“Find it.”

“It was said to primarily attack ruins.”

“Let’s ambush and settle this with a surprise attack.”

The knights had discovered a pattern—the demon moved primarily around ancient ruins as its bases.

It was searching for something among the traces of wars over a thousand years old. The demon clearly had a purpose as it ravaged this land.

It would be good to find out, but even as they gathered information, believers of the Order continued to die.

They didn’t have much time.

No matter how numerous humans were, combat-capable personnel were limited.

Especially when they needed to fight the Crusaders and march to the Papal territory, losing strength to the demon would be disastrous. Particularly since this was not just any demon, but an Archdemon. It was more powerful than any monster recorded in history books. They wondered if this was how humans felt when facing the Primordial Demon King long ago.

Even charging with all their might, they couldn’t penetrate the demonic energy.

Under the cruel blade, human will was weak. They melted away, bones and all, before they could even swing their swords. It brought despair to those who only sought revenge against heaven. When they felt a wall from a being without holy power, many began to falter.

Could they win?

The moment of hesitation from that thought was when defeat approached.

“Kiyaah!”

“Kill them all!”

When troops exhausted from chasing the Archdemon became disoriented, strange laughter could be heard from afar.

A small cavalry unit charging with black demonic energy. If one was startled and distracted, death would follow.

Slash!

“Cut them down!”

“They are sacrifices for His Excellency!”

“Finally, slaughter!”

War horses with red eyes shook heaven and earth. Before they could recover from shock, the mysterious army collected their heads.

Blood splattered everywhere, creating chaos. Some fled desperately wanting to live, while others clashed with the will to resist. Blades flashed between them.

“B-block them!”

“Block what? Call the knights!”

“We’ll all die before then! We’re all going to die!”

“Aaaaargh!”

The screaming soldier’s head was split open.

Some were caught in snares and dragged along the ground. All they could do was grasp their necks and choke. When thrown onto flat ground, they were pummeled. Axes hacked their bodies to pieces before they could even scream.

“Form a defensive formation!”

“T-they say the knights are coming!”

“Hold on!”

The humans put their backs together and extended their spears. They tried to hold out using countless dead comrades as shields.

Pitiful trembling transmitted through their hands. The black army looked at them and laughed.

“The battle ends here. Gather the spoils and return.”

“Hah!”

The army departed, leaving behind a dozen survivors. Those who survived collapsed on the spot.

Shortly after, the knights appeared, but it was too late. The hill was already stained red. Only superstitions about the demon spread, adding to the power of the black demonic energy.

“Damn it.”

The knights sighed.

This was not war. Nor was it a holy war.

They were being thoroughly toyed with. After casually engaging humans and having their fun, they disappeared like the wind.

Those who moved by reason rather than instinct gradually realized.

That the Archdemon was enjoying this situation.

#

“Stop! Stop! What on earth are you doing!”

The Saint could not contain her anger. Despite declaring a personal campaign and leading the army, all she received were reports of defeat.

Before they could even choose a battlefield to fight properly, they were being crushed everywhere.

The ruins were plundered, and the holy warriors died before they could use their strength.

When scouts were sent out, the demon legion would deploy and behead them all. When the knights marched, Durin would appear personally and break them.

Unable to stand by and watch, the Saint took action herself, but at those times, the enemy avoided battle. All that fell into the Saint’s hands were corpses.

“What about the reports from the troops ambushing the ruins?”

“None, Your Holiness. The Archdemon is only focused on killing our vanguard.”

“How can this be!”

The Saint clutched her throbbing forehead. She wanted to expose the demon’s true nature, but Durin wasn’t giving her the chance.

His movements were flawless. She had set traps and waited, but the demon mocked her patience.

He didn’t act recklessly. Even when presented with tempting battlefields, he only cut down small forces.

This gradual infliction of damage grew uncontrollably larger than expected.

“All that’s left is to invade that ruin.”

The Saint’s gaze turned to a spot on the map.

It would take at least a week to march there with a legion. If they pulled troops from those facing the Crusaders to create a battlefield atmosphere, it would take even longer.

The result was predictable.

The Dark Order’s main force would be scattered before they could mobilize. There was a high possibility they would be pushed around by that small cavalry unit and end up sitting in place.

Lucretia had observed Durin more closely than anyone. He used elite forces to induce endless engagements. The method of causing fatigue through relentless attacks was Durin’s preferred style of warfare. Experiencing it firsthand, she felt it was more painful than she had imagined.

“Durin…”

She ground his name between her teeth.

She had wanted to feel the joy of battle, but all that came was the coldness of the battlefield.

If this continued, there was only one answer.

“Let’s see if you can survive facing me directly.”

Finally, the Saint clenched her fist tightly.

The game was over now. She would create a battlefield worthy of a demon.

It was time to show the majesty of the former Demon King.

#

Recently, Verdia had been enjoying himself.

“Hahaha! This is war! We are in the midst of a legend!”

It began with patience.

Following the Administrator’s orders, they chose guerrilla warfare instead of a full-scale battle, which limited their movement. They constantly watched the battlefield to identify the enemy’s weaknesses, and when a sliver of opportunity appeared, they charged immediately. Durin watched them from behind, as if evaluating how much achievement they could bring back.

That created pressure. There would be no greater mockery than failing against mere humans.

As Durin had said, they would be no better than low-level demons who had only defeated second-rate angels. His hand gripped the reins tightly. Instead of the pleasure of slaughter felt at the tip of his halberd, he sought the desire for results.

The outcome was finally starting to show. Durin, who had been observing, began to join them on the battlefield and share in their victories. The glorious battle he had once so desired. Fighting by his master’s side made his mouth curl up to his ears.

“Your Excellency. Another great victory. I will behead them all.”

“Put them on poles. Boost the soldiers’ morale.”

“As you command!”

Today was especially significant—they had killed hundreds of Black Knights with just dozens of troops. They had overcome a distinctly alien power. Fighting them directly, it felt different from holy power but similar in texture. Perhaps it was worship that demons couldn’t receive. Though incomprehensible by barbarian standards, they didn’t worry much since they had won.

What was there to fear when the Administrator was calm?

Instead of wasting time on needless worries, it was more important to behead one more enemy.

“Gather all the souls you can and decorate our victory! Prepare the poles!”

“Prepare the poles!”

With the echoing command, the Southern Army drove stakes into the ground. The dangling heads with protruding tongues were a pleasing sight.

It could be called a luscious scene. He wanted to arrange them as densely as possible to please the Administrator.

“……”

Thud!

He silently drove in the pole. Now he just needed to collect the heads, but suddenly something felt wrong.

The wind blowing felt different. This sense of discomfort wasn’t felt by Verdia alone. Looking up, all the soldiers were making eye contact with each other.

They instinctively sensed it. A new being was approaching. A higher being they dared not challenge.

“Your Excellency!”

Verdia hurriedly sought the Administrator. They gathered their weapons and quickly mounted their horses.

They would execute the next order as soon as it fell. Durin gestured as if he had been waiting.

“Retreat. I will handle this.”

“Do you intend to fight?”

“Well, let me think after I face them.”

There was no fear. The Administrator seemed rather welcoming.

A moment of destiny that lesser demons dared not face had arrived. Verdia quickly led the troops away from the scene.

Whooosh—

The wind blew once more.

Durin recalled that time long ago. When he encountered the Demon King who was trying to escape after killing all the barbarians at the southern ruins.

Back then, there was a hero, but now he was with the Dark Order.

Of course, nothing had changed.

He would simply meet her again and face her.

That’s why he could smile.

#

The troops were annihilated.

As if to show the Saint, all the corpses were hanging from poles.

It resembled the ancient punishment of impalement.

The sight was quite grotesque, with all life force sucked out by demonic energy, leaving not a drop of blood. The warriors of the Dark Order gulped. Fear of the unknown stimulated them. Their trembling steps could barely move forward.

“As the Order’s finest warriors, maintain your dignity.”

“S-sorry.”

“How pathetic.”

The Saint didn’t even spare them a glance. She paid no attention to such worthless humans.

Those days of being revered were good, but now when it really mattered, they were of no help, which frustrated her greatly.

“If this is another wild goose chase, I’ll really be angry.”

“Don’t worry. This time we’ll properly deploy forces to capture him…”

One soldier forced himself to speak to shake off his fear.

Those were his last words.

Thwack!

A spear flying from afar pierced through the soldier. The one who couldn’t finish his sentence became a corpse.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t keep his head.

“Protect the Saint!”

“It’s him!”

The dozen knights who accompanied her as guards drew their swords. They formed a circle around the Saint.

But Lucretia gestured for them all to step aside.

“Stop this useless act and come out.”

It was pointless against an Archdemon anyway.

She raised her head and looked ahead.

“You won’t fall so easily to the likes of you.”

The hill where the sun was beginning to set.

The sky turned crimson with the sunset. Night would soon come.

A field of poles with this as the backdrop welcomed Lucretia.

“Durin…”

The black shadow on the ground.

She called the name of the Archdemon standing there.

“It’s good to see you like this.”

She felt a strong attraction. This was the moment destined by the Creator God.

Lucretia sensed that the greatest battle of her life was right before her.