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Overlord of biblical proportions: Return of the Biblical God (7)
🕑 Added 2025-01-24 09:05:39 +0000 UTCLe Fey wanted to say that she wanted to return back to the battle. That the decision to flee was so difficult to make for her, that she had waited for her brother until she couldn’t wait anymore.
But it was a lie.
And Le Fey knew that it was a lie.
She knew, and hated herself for it.
The grab job for the distraught Lucifer heir, was quite the ‘unique’ job for their group, even when compared to the background of their other missions for the Khaos Brigade. So, needless to say they were somewhat paranoid about compilations, mostly from Vali throwing a tantrum – the White Dragon Emperor would be no easy target to beat, that’s for sure.
So, when Vali turned out to be more weakened than they first thought, and his capture had gone swimmingly – Le Fay had to admit that she had gotten somewhat complacent.
After all, the hard part was done already, getting Vali, now they simply have to bring him back to one of the many Khaos Brigade bases. And then they met the mage…
To call it a nightmare would be an understatement, it was an experience extreme enough that a horror novel would call it ‘too much’. There’s a point when a reader loses all interest in a book, because they could not see how the protagonist could win. At some point, the protagonist should have really known better not to read the ‘cursed’ book, or tempt the ‘clearly fake’ curses.
Well, Le Fay had just escaped from that nightmare. Here and now? The mage, who had appeared out of nowhere, was not just a nightmare, he was an absurdity. An out-of-place existence that had appeared from nowhere, without reason or explanation, in the small, sleepy town in Germany. It was like meeting the Crimson Satan in a random crossroad, or a Seraphim in an abandoned Church.
And, just as inexplicably, he had simply destroyed what was considered one of the most cohesive and strong teams in the entirety of the Khaos Brigade. A team that even the Factions inside the Khaos Brigade needed to step gingerly around.
Biko? Dead. Kuroka? Crippled. And Arthur, her brother, the owner of the two strongest [Holy Swords] in the World? Captured.
And so, when the light of [Caliburn] illuminated her and conferred to her its protection, and when Arthur rushed to confront the mage, protecting her from the enemy… Le Fey ran away.
Le Fey had retreated – it was supposed to be a standard tactic, breaking the distance from her opponent in order to support Arthur in battle. A couple of seconds of distance, where she was somewhat safe from the enemy, as her brother would break the enemy’s line of sight, she was expected to support her brother…
And she was just about to do that – until the light of Caliburn dimmed as her brother was felled like a dead tree. The mage didn’t even take a second glance at the legendary [Caliburn], instead looming over her brother like the specter of death.
Le Fey fled.
She had used the Mana that she had gathered to attack – and teleported away. And now Le Fey was running away, recriminating her cowardice with every step with all the strength of her self-hatred, cursing herself for her cowardice… But her steps remained steady, and her gait unceasing.
A voice that sounds very similar to her own kept screaming in her head that she should turn around, that she should teleport back to the massacrebattle, that she should rescue her friends, her brother. And she agreed with the voice, but she knew that she was not enough, that she needed to find reinforcement, and the voice became silent, seemingly agreeing with her excuse. Indeed, she needed help and would not stop until she found it…
But no matter how true her reasoning sounded to herself, deep in her heart she knew the truth – she could lie to herself all she wanted, but she was not running to find reinforcement. How would she even find one in the Khaos Brigade, everyone there only thinks of themselves first.
No, the only real reason why she is abandoning her allies, her friends, her brother – was because she was afraid. Fear, that is the only emotion she felt.
Gods? Satans? Dragons? Seraphs? They were all formidable opponents, death would be a stark possibility should the team had the misfortune to encounter them, and they were seriously fighting them. But they were known quantities.
Terrifying, but known – and even they would not have treated the appearance of [Caliburn] with such… disdain. At least they wouldn't have acted with such bored efficiency, as if Arthur's entire team was not just not a danger to them, but nothing special. As if their enemy had seen hundreds of such opponents like them and paid them no more attention than they would to small fries. Looking at them not with an assessment of the danger they could possess, but the value they could give to him.
Worst of all? This was done not by a figure like Michael, a Seraph, or Sirzechs, two powerful figures that had just shown the world just how powerful they truly are. No, it was just some unknown mage, from an equally unknown small town, who had popped out of nowhere and had simply taken offense to their entry into his town…
It seemed to Le Fey that all she was in the middle of some feverish delirium, a strange dream without any explanation, not subject to logic – but it was reality. A reality she still had to come to terms with.
“Right after this, I should…”
"Stop!"
All at once, every muscle in Le Fay’s body froze – there was no spell cast, no wound appearing on her body, but just the unexpected loud sound was enough to freeze her all the same. It was like her nightmare had come to reality once again, planning to finish what the mage had started, she was so frozen in fear that she couldn’t even turn around to check.
Luckily, and perhaps a touch ironically, because she was so scared that the nightmare was seared into her mind, she found the singular detail that stopped her from dying from terror alone.
The voice was different.
It didn’t speak mockingly, with its soft and polite words masking the monster, no, the voice had shouted at her roughly, with a hoarseness to it. How glad she was to hear rudeness at this moment in her life…
Raising her hand in a gesture of surrender, Le Fay, stopped running.
"Okay… I’m unarmed and not dangerous," Of course, under normal circumstances that was far from the truth. Le Fay is a powerful and experienced mage, a genius among her peers, capable of turning large fields into a fiery inferno with a flick of her fingers – however, at the moment it was indeed so. Intimidated and completely shivering in fear, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice, Le Fey wouldn't have been able to find the strength to defend herself even from a random mugger with a knife.
It galled her to admit, but she was not in a state of mind to cast any spell.
The man that stepped in front of Le Fay, however, didn’t look like a robber. Fit and with a stony face, the young man’s military disciplined way of bearing evoked thoughts of a soldier rather than a criminal.
He simply looked at Le Fay for any visible weapons, pausing momentarily as he was about to reach out, perhaps to pat her down, before deciding otherwise.
“You can lower your hands now.”
Le Fay was quite surprised that the man had easily missed out on something quite obvious, it seems that his magic sense was quite poor. After all, how could anyone from the supernatural, and the man must be, miss the potent Mana that Le Fay possessed. Especially when he was so close to her.
Could he really be from the mundane world? It is not a question that Le Fay needed to ask, her own magic sense had pegged him as a member of the supernatural as soon as she was sure that the man was not the monster.
His magic signature was not too strong, and of a source that is not too familiar to Le Fey, making the exact species of the man not readily clear. However, as a true polyglot in the world of magic, Le Fey was able to recognize the imprint of this magic without much trouble after just a few moments of thought. Slow, for her standards, but beggars were not choosers.
"Vampires? Then… Didn't think I'd teleport this far." Le Fey muttered under her breath, then turned her gaze to the man in front of her, an assessing eye now adorning her face.
Of course, she needed to gather an army and rush to rescue her brother and friends – at least Kuroka… With Bikou dead already, Arthur’s Team is heavily outgunned, what could Le Fay do? She couldn’t simply rush out and die stupidly.
Arthur's team, especially since they had parted ways with the Hero Faction, doesn’t exactly have many reliable allies, as far as that word could be used for the members of the Khaos Brigade, that Le Fay could turn to. Their decision to part ways with their Faction had meant that they could do things on their own without being under any command structure, but it also meant they lacked the resources that the large Factions have.
Such an order of affair had suited Arthur's team just fine. They were not planning to get involved in any divine squabbles after all, where their forces would be insufficient. And, unless they face the monsters of the Supernatural World, like they just did, Arthur, Le Fey, Biko and Kuroka were more than capable of standing up for themselves. None of them could have ever imagined that such a disaster could befall them out of nowhere so suddenly.
This meant that asking the help of anyone of the Khaos Brigade is not an option – they would pounce on the weakness immediately.
Asking help from the Wizards of Oz, would just lead to Walburga forcing Le Fay into her coven. Walburga would not let someone like Le Fay out of her control. The Old Satans would flay her alive for ‘consorting’ with someone like Vali Lucifer. And it is a coin toss if Cao Cao would help them now. He was still annoyed when Arthur had left their faction, with her joining her brother’s lead. Cao Cao certainly could help her with Arthur's release… Or he might not help. Le Fay knew him too poorly personally, but Arthur never considered him his ally.
Le Fay needed help, but an ally who was too weak simply could not provide such to her, and one who was too strong was dangerous, primarily for Le Fay herself. She had very few honest and close friends that could lend her a helping hand…
As the Vampire moved closer, probably to restrain her, Le Fay came to a decision.
"Thank you very much for being here." A smile came to her face as a plan came together.
The man blinked several times at her words, confused, before his pupils dilated and he, staring blankly ahead, slumped to the ground. Le Fay neatly grabbed the Vampire at the last moment and laid him down as best she could. She didn't know what the man was planning to do next with her, most likely, he would have taken her to his superiors. She was probably trespassing on the Vampire’s lands after all.
But she simply didn't have time for that.
It's not to say that she had the best relationship with her family, especially since they were still mad after Arthur had ‘stolen’ the Pendragon’s most important heirloom when he left. But now she needed their help.
Le Fay might not like her family other than her brother, and the Pendragon Family would probably laugh at her than provide any actual help… But they would definitely have an issue with having both [Caliburn] and [Excalibur Ruler] be in the hand of someone else other than a Pendragon.
It should stir them into action, right?
***
After passing the information about the mage that had slipped his grasp, something that Momonga was still ashamed about, he nevertheless soon returned to Nazarick. Though, the thought of the loot that he’s bringing back, and the three captured specimens, does bring a smidgen of a smile to his face.
As for his three captives, however, their fate was… well, usually it would be straight to the experimentation tables, and then execution. While, of course, he would never allow any outsider the knowledge of Nazarick’s existence, there’s still a chance that he could recruit them. He wouldn’t be betting on it, but there’s precedence for it, like Raynare.
Though, one of them, the fair-haired young man, the previous owner of [Excalibur Ruler], which was, of course, many times less impressive than [Caliburn], but that was no reason not to take it for himself. Demiurge – or perhaps Neuronist, would extract all possible information from his mind, striving to learn as much as possible about where exactly he got such artifacts and where he could find similar ones. After which, Momonga planned to get rid of the guy.
Even without mentioning the concealing information about Nazarick itself and the destruction of an enemy who might later take revenge or reveal the fact that Momonga now possessed Caliburn. It would simply be illogical to leave behind an opponent who had somehow managed to obtain such a weapon.
Moreover, Momonga could use his body for experiments. For example, to check whether an undead created from the body of a relatively high-level opponent, closer to the sixtieth level of strength, would be more effective than when using a random body… If he didn’t find a better use for the man anyway.
Then there was the girl with clear inhuman features – two black tails, and a pair of cat ears. Now, her – she’s practically a treasure trove of new information. A new race with never before seen abilities, who also possesses knowledge about the magic of this world, and she must possess an extensive list of it even from just bare assumptions.
Momonga didn't really count on any possibility of recruiting her, so most likely she would also end up being disposed of, but Momonga still wanted to hope that he could gain command over a new unique race. Killing a unique existence like her, especially when he doesn’t know how widespread her race is, could be a massive loss.
Anyway, before that point, he needed to completely gut her for all her knowledge and information, ideally without resorting to the painful and frightening methods of Nazarick.
As for the third captive… Momonga didn’t really know what to do with him. From the beginning of the battle, when Momonga first confronted the trespassers, he was already bound by magic and tied up by ropes. The young fair-haired, or maybe gray-haired, guy, Momonga hadn't even bothered to unseal him.
Whatever the reason for the people he had defeated for restraining him, there must be one, which meant that there was no need to rush his release at the moment. So, instead of releasing him, Momonga cast a few more spells on him before deciding anything else – he planned to first obtain information about him from Momonga's other opponents… And then, quite possibly, send him to be disposed of as well.
In general, Momonga's attitude towards his recent adversaries was quite utilitarian and did not involve letting the opponents he captured go free… Unless Momonga found a suitable rational reason to do so, of course, one that could benefit him and Nazarick more.
But all this was, in general, nothing more than a side issue for Momonga, who, after transferring the three captive and entrusting them to Demiurge's subordinates, began to think about his subsequent plans.
Returning to the site of his battle at this moment would be simply foolish for Momonga. After the impact of [Caliburn’s] appearance, an entire army of reporters and spies from who knows where, would be crawling all over the place. Pandora's Actor could handle observing them and preparing a possible trap for the returning mage girl.
Momonga himself returned to the starting point of his plans – to the moment when he still did not possess information about the god he pretended to be in this world. Of course, to say that his infiltration into the Church was a complete waste would be simply foolish, acquiring two powerful and three prisoners at once definitely asserted the opposite.
But he did miss out on his main goal for infiltrating the Church in the first place – the understanding of what kind of god, the god he was impersonating, was supposed to be acting.
On the other hand, Momonga at least found a way to correct this plan in the future, he needed only a few simple booklets like ‘Christianity for Children’ preferably in picture book form. And finding such books for him was quite simple, all it took was to send some creature like a shadow demon to steal them from any non-magical storage, like a bookstore.
And that was what Momonga planned to do next, to send a couple of creatures on this errand, then lock himself in his room in Nazarick and carefully memorize the contents of these books. He didn't even need to fully understand their content, especially if it was filled with philosophical mumbo-jumbos, he still wouldn't understand them. He only needed to memorize the factoids, and they, Momonga hoped, were unlikely to be more difficult to memorize than the many factoids of Yggdrasil.
Of course, as expected, nothing good could ever happen to him, and acquiring [Caliburn] definitely counts as something good, without some bad happening as if to balance his Luck out.
So, when Demiurge contacted him with a [Message], Momonga was not ashamed to admit saying that he almost didn’t pick up the call.
"Lord Momonga, my apologies, this Demiurge speaking. Am I not distracting you at the moment?"
"No, it's alright." Momonga actually initially wanted to try to put on airs and ask Demiurge if his message was urgent, to act as if Momonga was busy with something important at the moment, rather than planning the simple burglary of books. However, he thought otherwise when he realized that if he said such things, his subordinates would always say that their business was insignificant compared to the great deeds of Lord Momonga – even if they were burning alive at that moment.
Instead, Momonga decided to simply let Demiurge speak. "I'm listening."
"Lord Momonga, I humbly beg your forgiveness for my unworthy self – I am ready to accept any punishment for my unacceptable stupidity and inability to serve your plans in full measure, Lord Momonga…" Momonga's mind, as he now habitually did, filtered out the unneeded complicated verbal dross – if Momonga hadn’t learned the skill, he would have long drowned in purple prose while communicating with his subordinates.
“Umu, please elaborate…” But since he has no idea what to say if he didn’t have any data, he simply used one of his placeholder sentences.
"This foolish Demiurge had failed to read the lines in between the Lord’s intent, and is now forced to genuflect in dismay. Please instruct on how the Lord would wish to interact with the Angelic faction, as their messengers had just arrived, and I am unsure on how to proceed… Not to mention the demands of the messengers…"
"Aha… I see," The Angels? Momonga exhaled – thoughts about the Angels, his supposed creation, periodically arose in his mind, how could they not? However, Momonga did not have any time to think of how he would treat them, he certainly didn’t know enough about them to…
"Wait… Messengers?!"
It took his Emotional Suppression activating at full strength to prevent Momonga from leaping out of his skin.
***
Xenovia is a person that is solidly grounded in her faith. At least as much as could be expected for a holy swordswoman raised with Angelic supervision in an abbey under the guidance of a former Exorcist. She was educated, she was trained, but most importantly, she was equipped with the shield of Faith… Plus, with companions that could restrain her should she go overboard with any rash words or actions. Her conviction could be considered strong.
Sadly, it was only that, ‘strong’.
Until recently, Xenovia even thought her faith was unshakable, but everything in the world is known in comparison, and the strength of any singular thing is determined by its collision with an obstacle.
The information that the Almighty Lord was dead, struck Xenovia's mind like a truck. But, before she could even manage to fully grasp the magnitude of the revelation, a second, equally strong, blow was delivered to her mind – the fact that the Lord, like His Son, had returned after his death.
And He had a Plan… Plans that might not include the Angels, or even perhaps Humanity, depending on how they are judged by the Lord at the now impending Last Judgment.
Xenovia didn't even want to think or remember the fact that Irina had known about the Lord's death all this time – what difference did it make to her in the current circumstances?
And the fact that Irina, grabbing her blade, tried to attack the Demon speaking about this truth, ended with the demon, who had called himself the Demiurge, merely approved of her actions, after which he recited the Lord’s Prayer, and had made the sign of the cross only confused her more.
Xenovia knows full well how the Demons outright hate, to the point of physical pain, any of the holy ritual and sacraments, where even saying the Lord’s name causes them pain. Adding to this the Gnostic heresies, something she knows extensively as a professional Exorcist and [Holy Swordswoman] regarding Church history – and Xenovia could say that her seemingly unsinkable ship of faith had turned out to be the Titanic instead.
Although, Xenovia couldn't say that her faith had plummeted either – it was just all… Some kind of unbelievable absurdity.
The seemingly minor task of checking a church placed halfway across the world from her birthplace, and searching for a known, but still minor, criminal suddenly became some kind of delirious dream. With demons making the sign of the cross, dead but resurrected Gods, and in addition Fallen Angels who looked at the exorcists with sympathy. As if they were the ones deprived of God's Grace, and not the other way around.
Delirium, feverish delirium, which nevertheless did not want to end. So, finding herself lodging in the Church that is currently at the control of a Fallen, Xenovia was even surprised that she woke up in the same place where she fell asleep yesterday. And not in the infirmary of her monastery school, under the attentive but strict gaze of her foster mother, Griselda. But the fact that Irina looked like she hadn't slept the entire night didn't surprise Xenovia in the slightest.
‘Of course, the situation is absurd for me as well, but at least I know that the Lord is alive – just as I have always believed Him to be. Irina had ‘found out’ that the Lord was dead, so for her, all this must sound even more insane than for me.’ Xenovia didn't plan to think about why Irina knew and didn't tell her before. What difference does it actually make to her now, in this case?
Both Irina and Xenovia had found themselves in an equally insane situation anyway.
"This is complete nonsense, and I don't believe a single word they say," Irina stated immediately as she noticed that Xenovia had woken up and was looking at her. "I don't know what's happening here, but we must get out of here and report what's happening to the church. I don't know how rare it is to find a demon capable of reading the Bible, but such a thing is definitely not as unbelievable as the alternative."
Irina had always been firm in her faith and had an open mind, keeping secrets was not a part of her capabilities… Or, at least, Xenovia thought so until recently. Yesterday, she learned that Irina had known about the death of the Lord. How long had she known? Xenovia couldn’t tell, she couldn’t tell, Irina had carefully kept this information close to her heart.
So, since yesterday, it must be admitted that Xenovia's not exactly outstanding abilities in judging personalities were once again shown just how lacking they were. Rather than answering, Xenovia simply watched as Irina continued pacing around the small cell provided to them for their stay in the church.
Of course, Xenovia had no doubt that Irina's words and actions were known to the demon, the Demiurge, they had met yesterday. After all, it didn't even require complex equipment or outstanding spells to do so, simple electronic equipment was enough. Or, of course, they could simply be listening to what was happening in the room.
But Xenovia kept silent for another reason.
This whole situation was, undoubtedly, nonsense. Just like, according to her training, the information that the Lord was dead and all the miracles were nothing more than a charade created by the [Heaven System] and maintained by Michael, was also supposed to be nonsense. But Irina treated this nonsense not just as if it could possibly be true, but as if it was an undeniable fact. And if one piece of nonsense was the truth… At what point should Xenovia stop in her reasoning and separate the possible from the impossible?
"This is all complete nonsense!" Finally, having completely wound herself up, perhaps to strengthen her own faith, Irina stopped circling the room, then turned to Xenovia. As if only now noticing that she had been silent all this time and had not expressed her opinion on what was happening.
"We need to urgently leave this church and report everything to the church."
Such an answer was the correct response, the one expected of an exorcist's faith and the instructions hammered into their head as a [Holy Swordsman]. So, what was surprising was not the fact that Irina voiced these thoughts, but the fact that Xenovia didn't immediately rush to support them.
"Xenovia?" After waiting a couple of seconds, Irina looked at her friend, frowning slightly.
"I agree…" Xenovia answered calmly, maintaining confidence and firmness in her speech… Almost.
"But I think… We should get more information about what is happening in this church… Shouldn't we?"
Seeing that Irina was about to object, Xenovia quickly added another point to her idea.
"To convey more information to the higher-ranking exorcists, and higher-ups, of course." Xenovia would like to say that she was not lying to her friend… But even a white lie, contrary to the views of some church critics, was still a sinful act.
"At the very least about the demon reading the bible – does he endure pain while controlling his facial expressions, or does he really not experience any problems with it, having received permission… That is, unnoticed by the L– [Heaven System]?"
Xenovia's voice was almost even, but in the last second she still couldn't restrain herself and found her voice quivering, almost saying something else instead of the [Heaven System]. The information that the Lord was dead fit into her mind only slightly better than the information that the Lord was alive, and was currently being served by a demon and a Fallen Angel.
In other words, not well at all.
Irina frowned after hearing Xenovia’s plan, squinting her eyes. For the first time ever since they had become friends, something flickered in Irina's eyes that was not very similar to the emotions of a friend, but closer to the cold, calculating gaze of an exorcist… However, Xenovia didn't blame her for this. Rather, she blamed herself for having to be under this scrutiny in the first place.
She deserved it – what she was suggesting to be happening was very close to heresy, after all.
Though, from a certain point of view, what she was proposing to do made sense. The existence of a Demon capable of reading the Holy Book without any discomfort had never been heard off, never mind one that could do the sign of the cross. At least Xenovia thought so, it seems that there are many things that she doesn’t know of after all… Like the fact that the Lord was supposed to be dead.
But Irina, who had known of such a secret, was also shocked about the Demiurge being able to read the Bible, so the information obtained during the observation of such a phenomenon could indeed be important for the church… And for its specific representatives.
However, it was not so easy to deceive Irina, as shown by the fact that her scrutiny didn’t ease up, silently continued to drill holes in her with her gaze for the next few seconds. For a few tense seconds, the both of them remained silent, before it was broken as Irina sighed.
"Fine, we’ll go with your idea, we do still need to report something like this – I have never heard of a Demon being capable of doing such a thing, which means we should tell the senior exorcists about it. The Demon being immune to scripture is indeed important news."
Xenovia, still not trusting her voice, simply nodded in response.
Regardless of what conclusion she would eventually come to, interfering with Irina doing what any exorcist should do in her place would be simply foolish.
"In that case, I'll stay back here, while you'll report this," Xenovia blinked before realizing what Irina had said and smiled slightly internally at her friend's training and intelligence. With a simple move, she had neutralized any threat she could pose, especially when her faith had been shaken so badly in such close succession.
Xenovia, pondering about it for a moment, could only silently nod again.
In any case, having the chance to clear her head a little wouldn't be bad. If the madness the demon told her was indeed not madness, then there was no reason for them to forcibly hold Xenovia from leaving. If it was indeed nothing more than the insane rambling of a mad Demon, probably made mad by reading the Bible, then Xenovia would laugh at being almost made a member of an insane cult.
But then… it would mean that the Lord is indeed dead.
"Alright, I think we should communicate our intent to the Demiurge," Xenovia quickly shook her head to erase the revelation that had shaken her faith in the first place. A shower should helpfully help clear her head.
Three minutes later, Xenovia was ready, done with her shower.
Irina handed her own holy blade to Xenovia, looking much more tense than what Xenovia would have preferred to see on her friend’s face. After the handover was complete, the two quickly left their unlocked cell, the Demon seeming confident that the two would not leave like a thief at night. Or, at least, confident that the two wouldn’t be able to succeed.
To be honest, Xenovia was expecting, hoping, that the door wouldn’t open, or that it would be trapped somehow – she would find the world much more sensible if that was the case.
Contrary to her expectations, however, the door opened easily, making way to the Church foyer, lit up by the early morning sun. It was barely after dawn, a time when most were still asleep, but of course, for those of the Church, used to early morning service, early rising was just expected.
Of course, rather than seeing faithful congregations of believers, or nuns and pastors in service, only the Demiurge could be seen among the Church’s pews alongside the three Fallen angels, and the nun the two exorcists had met yesterday. Asia, blessed by the [Sacred Gear], looked busy, rushing around the church with an indescribable level of anxiety.
The former nun was joined by what the two Exorcists’ senses could tell were Demons, scurrying about the church with a nervous excitement. Their scurrying didn’t seem random and didn't give the impression of being fake, at least to the eyes of Irina and Xenovia. On the contrary, it was terrifyingly organized as they unrolled a red carpet and urgently tried to get rid of every possible tiny speck of dust that could be found.
Xenovia was confused, for what reason were they doing such a thing, the only comparison she had was when a Cardinal was supposed to visit her Orphanage.
Xenovia couldn’t think of the strange picture further, as a black vortex of collapsed space opened in the air and the hairs on her neck involuntarily stood on end.
Although she wasn't an outstanding mage, her training and experience, ingrained in her as a [Holy Swordswoman], instantly told her that she was witnessing magic far stronger than anything she had ever seen before.
Irina instantly stood to the side, reclaiming her blade from Xenovia’s hands and [Excalibur Mimic] was quickly unsheathed, with Xenovia quickly following her lead. Now armed with [Excalibur Destruction], Xenovia stood side by side with her partner, prepared to face whatever it is that could come out of the wound in reality.
She didn't dare to use [Durandal] instantly against an unknown opponent…
However, the demons didn't seem to pay any attention to their actions at all, nor did the Fallen and the Nun. Instead, all their gazes converged onto the portal, from which, after a moment, appeared… A young man, approximately the same age as Irina and Zenovia?
The young man, who had just come out of the portal, surveyed the room, and immediately met the gaze of the two girls, and then the two blades in their hands.
Xenovia realized with a half-second delay that their actions looked anything but friendly in the current circumstances, but Xenovia, and Irina didn't have time to correct their purely automatic actions.
In half a blink of an eye, Xenovia suddenly found that she was in a void, consumed by endless horror and darkness. Fear, hatred, and God's Wrath.
Thankfully, she didn't have more time to figure anything out about what had happened because she had lost consciousness before her body could even move a single finger.
Even if she could somehow read Momonga's thought that he simply wanted to appear at the official meeting with the emissaries with sufficient fanfare, and therefore used [Aura of Despair I], was no consolation to her at that moment.
Comments
Ivan Chechnya
Great writing as always!
Abaddon Lucifer
Txh man
