Chapter 183

“An artifact capable of absolute defense and attack reflection… That essentially means I now have three extra lives.”

For Theo, who would face increasingly dangerous missions in the future, this artifact was invaluable.

Though the three-use limit was a drawback, it was a small price to pay for such a powerful item.

“It seems to be a temporary sacred relic imbued with the blessing of the God of Causality,” Lodbrok mused as she scrutinized the ring.

“The God of Causality?”

Theo recalled the deity who had subtly expressed favor toward him during his climb up the White Tower. He still couldn’t understand why the god—or goddess—had shown such interest in him.

“Yes. Causality isn’t just about predetermined cause and effect. It also means introducing a ‘variable’ to alter outcomes.”

Lodbrok stroked her chin thoughtfully.

“Even though it’s limited to three uses, the fact that the God of Causality provided this now… it likely means they’ve seen something in the future.”

“This mission… isn’t going to be simple, is it?”

“Correct. It could mean your role in this mission extends beyond a mere assassination. The gods of the Pantheon see timelines far deeper and wider than we do.”

“So you’re saying…”

“It may indicate that the invasions by the Outer Gods you witnessed will intensify. Particularly, the seems poised to rampage the most.”

In other words, this was preparation.

The God of Causality likely foresaw a future where the and the Holy Demon Church grew even more dangerous and provided Theo with a means to prepare.

The Pantheon, meanwhile, was so focused on countering the Outer Gods’ invasions that they had little capacity to intervene in the world’s governance.

For them to bestow such a powerful artifact suggested it had come at a great cost.

It was proof of how deeply concerned the God of Causality was about Theo’s survival.

“What could it be? Is Torkel somehow connected to the Holy Demon Church or the ?”

It was possible that this mission would unveil secrets tied to the Black Dragon’s unease or the hidden motives of the Plum Blossom Empress.

Regardless, Theo had no intention of faltering.

The artifact might even prove crucial in assassinating Torkel, who was shielded by the formidable Black Iron Brigade.

Screeeeaaak!

As these thoughts churned in his mind, Umbra flapped its wings harder, propelling them forward.

In the distance, the base of Troiban came into view.

The Holy Demon Church was considered a cult—a heresy that the Empire sought to eradicate at all costs.

To that end, the Empire, along with the electors, regularly marshaled armies to conduct purges against the church.

Decades ago, the massive purge spearheaded by the Ragnar Clan had been so thorough that it destroyed the church’s hidden headquarters.

For a time, the Holy Demon Church all but vanished, and their absence was credited to the heroic deeds of Kyle Ragnar.

But cults, by nature, were resilient.

Their roots ran deep, and they always resurfaced during times of chaos.

This time was no exception.

The fall of the Imperial Court’s authority and the unexplained natural disasters sweeping the continent had left countless refugees in their wake.

To the desperate masses, the promises of the Holy Demon Church sounded as sweet and tempting as the voice of the devil itself.

“Our lord shall return soon… and so, too, shall our salvation!”

Cardinal Vector laughed heartily.

Just look at them.

So many faithful had gathered here of their own volition, yearning for the return of their great god.

“‘O my people,’ declares the great god, ‘Why do you lead such sorrowful lives? The reason you suffer so much oppression and pain is because this world is false!’”

Standing atop an altar made of 999 steps, a priest clad in white robes gazed down at 9,999 fervent worshippers and delivered his sermon.

“The only way for you to be saved is to escape this false world. I shall help you. From the shadow buried in darkness since the dawn of creation, I have returned to stop the false world from continuing its cycle of rebirth and to free you from its shackles!”

The longer the sermon went on, the brighter the bronze braziers on either side of the altar burned.

Fwoosh!

Black flames danced wildly, raising the temperature in the area.

The worshippers, kneeling with clasped hands in prayer, seemed to radiate their own heat as their fervor intensified.

It was madness.

There was no other way to describe the atmosphere.

Vector silently observed the scene.

The ceremony was nearing its climax.

“So many people have gathered,” a man remarked, stepping up beside Vector.

Recognizing the voice, Vector allowed a faint smile to form.

“To think Brother Ed, who usually shows no interest in sermons, would grace us with his presence. Have you finally decided to devote yourself to our god?”

Ed Troiban—formerly known as the Dragon Slayer of the North under Ragnar—had reclaimed his position as Troiban’s heir. He smirked, curling one corner of his lip.

“Unfortunately, I’m an atheist.”

“How unfortunate. To reject the miracles of the god so plainly before you…”

“My father’s devotion to the Holy Demon Church should suffice for our family, don’t you think?”

“That’s true. Still, I thought I’d mention it, out of hope.”

The relationship between Troiban and the Holy Demon Church wasn’t merely an alliance.

It was closer to a blood pact.

Granada Troiban, Ed’s father and head of the family, was a devout follower of the church.

However, his devotion didn’t imply subjugation. Granada’s pride rivaled that of the Ragnars, and his religious faith remained separate from his political ambitions.

Nonetheless, Granada’s unwavering reverence for one of the church’s Apostles couldn’t be overlooked.

It was this connection that had compelled Ed to assist the church’s resurgence and participate in the resurrection ritual.

“A god’s resurrection, huh? What a joke.”

Ed sneered as he watched the increasingly fervent ceremony.

If gods truly existed…

If the god they worshipped was truly omnipotent…

Why had the Holy Demon Church suffered setbacks and collapses?

Why hadn’t this world already fallen under their god’s dominion?

And why was a resurrection necessary now?

Surely, victory should already be assured?

But Ed had witnessed that so-called god falter and fall, proving itself to be far from invincible.

“If anything, it shouldn’t have been sealed in the first place.”

Ed knew why the , who had once reigned supreme, had suddenly been sealed.

The cardinals and bishops claimed it was due to the god’s overuse of miracles, requiring a period of rest.

The truth, however, was that the god had been temporarily sealed by a magical constraint.

If that weren’t the case, such an elaborate ritual wouldn’t be necessary to break the seal.

And so…

“Theo… it must be him.”

Theo Ragnar.

A boy who once seemed insignificant and contemptible now stirred curiosity about just how far he could rise.

“You’ll come to stop this resurrection ceremony yourself, won’t you? Show me… show me what you’ll do this time.”

Ed’s muttered words carried a flicker of madness in his eyes—a madness born of his obsession with Theo.

It was the kind of madness that eagerly awaited the moment when something near completion could be crushed by his own hands.

“Well, I have no concerns,” Cardinal Vector declared, spreading his arms wide as if to receive divine grace descending from the heavens.

As a red flush of excitement spread across Vector’s face, the resurrection ceremony approached its climax.

“There is only one way to welcome the great god—faith in his return! So, I ask you, my lambs, do you believe in his return?”

“We believe!”

“We believeee!”

The priest’s question elicited fervent shouts from the congregation, their collective madness and ecstasy further stoking the air of hysteria.

“Do you believe in his salvation?”

“We believe!”

“We will believe!!”

“Do you believe in his end?”

“Yes!”

“Lord, bring the end upon us!”

“Then prove your faith!”

“How… how do we prove it?”

“Offer it! Your wealth if it’s wealth! Your wife if it’s your wife! Your children if it’s your children!”

The frenzied crowd, driven to insanity, unleashed a grotesque black shadow that seemed to ooze from their very being.

“Offer the most precious thing you have to the great god!”

At the priest’s command, the worshippers picked up the ceremonial daggers they had laid beside them.

Gripping the blades in reverse, they plunged them unhesitatingly into their left chests, ripping out their hearts and crushing them.

Splaaash!

The blood of 9,999 hearts mingled with the collective madness of 9,999 souls. The blackened blood pooled and began flowing toward the altar like a dark river.

“O great god, return to us and grant us your salvation!”

When the priest finally crushed his own heart, the sacrifice of 10,000 lives was complete.

Ed grimaced at the sight, disgusted, but he held his tongue.

The truly revolting scene was yet to come.

Rumble!

Crack, crackle!

From the blood-filled pool, black tendrils began emerging one by one, twisting and writhing like tangled vines.

The tendrils intertwined and coiled higher and higher until they seemed ready to pierce the heavens.

“A tree is rising! Its buds will soon bloom, and within them, the great god will reside!”

Vector, now utterly lost in his delusions, spoke with the awe of one who believed he was witnessing divinity.

“That’s a flower? Ridiculous.”

Ed suppressed the urge to draw his sword and cut it down.

What loomed before them was grotesque, a perversion of life.

It was an abomination that defied the laws of natural evolution, a chaotic amalgamation of death, malevolence, cold destruction, and annihilation.

Any living creature with even a shred of instinct would recoil in horror.

Crack, crackle!

As more tendrils latched onto the mass, the grotesque entity grew into a colossal flower bud, towering dozens of meters high.

When the bud began to slowly unfurl—

And when Cardinal Vector’s face reached the peak of his rapture—

Whoooosh!

A dark shadow suddenly fell across the sky.

Dozens upon dozens of shadows.

Vector’s gaze snapped upward, followed by Ed’s.

For the first time in a long while, Ed smiled.

“They’ve arrived.”

The long-awaited figures had finally appeared.

The skies were filled with the white-scaled forms of wyverns—the White Armor Vanguard had come.