Chapter 296

Chapter 296

A piercing crack rang out. The sword that had never broken before, the blade that hadn’t been dulled even when it cut through the scales of the Navardoze, shattered. Abel’s face contorted sharply.

“That’s ridiculous.”

It was like living a nightmare. But there was no time to be idle. Ronan didn’t stop when he shattered the sword. He lunged forward and brought his sword down vertically.

“Fuck you!”

If he wanted to block or parry, he had no sword. Abel barely dodged the attack with a swipe of his shoulder. Shhhh! Ramancha’s blade grazed the bridge of his nose.

“Shit—!”

“What, damage?”

Ronan continued to rain down swordfire, and Abel gritted his teeth as he dodged by a single sheet of paper. Unlike himself, who was increasingly out of breath, there was no sign of exhaustion on Ronan’s face.

‘I’m not quite there yet.

He had two cards left to turn things around, including Iril, but it didn’t matter if he died before he could turn them over.

We had to fight. He could only pray for a single opening. Step by step, Abel retreated until he was standing with his back to the wall. Suddenly, Ronan’s body swung wildly to the right.

“Your delusions end here!”

“——!”

Ronan shouted. Abel’s eyes widened. He made a large motion, thinking it was a finishing blow. A low chuckle escaped him when he saw the empty side.

“You’re still young.”

“What?”

Ronan frowned. Abel crouched low, gathering his strength in his hands.

Like Ronan, he never forgot a skill once he’d practiced it. The lamancha flew in a wide arc, narrowly missing Abel by a hair’s breadth. Cain, watching the battle, cried out.

“Oh, son, it’s dangerous!”

“Too late, didn’t you teach me not to use the same technique!”

Ronan’s side was still empty. Abel brought his hands together like spears. It was weak, but it had more than enough power to crack his ribs and burst his heart.

“Holy—!”

Ronan jerked his head around. Abel’s hand was flying toward his heart. One corner of his mouth quirked up.

“What an asshole.”

“Huh?”

Abel froze, his hand about to reach for Ronan. With a bang, Ronan hit the ground and leapt vertically.

“What!”

“Did you think I didn’t know that?”

Abel gulped, realizing in hindsight that he had been tricked. A hollow crashing sound echoed as the attack missed.

“You—!”

Ronan’s shadow fell over his face. There was no more room to dodge. Ronan twirled his sword in a swallow of air. Chaaaah! Abel’s right arm, which was being retracted, shot into the air.

“Crack!”

“Finally got it. The rat.”

Abel screamed, and Ronan, who had landed straight on the ground, raised his sword at point-blank range. Before he could do anything, the blow sliced across Abel’s throat.

“Huh—!”

Abel fell forward, clutching his throat. He couldn’t breathe properly. He could feel his neck bones and blood vessels had been severed by more than half.

Blood gurgled through the cracks of the fingers that held the wound. Neither human nor giant, his blood was a grotesque purple color.

“Holy shit. How are you alive?”

Ronan raised an eyebrow. It was a monster, alive after being decapitated. It didn’t matter, of course, and he sheathed his sword in silence. I’ll make one more cut.

“I can’t—, I can’t—, I can’t—!”

Abel struggled pleadingly, but it was none of Ronan’s business; he was about to deliver the final blow.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash overhead that sounded like the world was turning upside down.

“Nimi, what is it?”

It was not a sound to be ignored, and an indescribable sense of foreboding weighed down the air. Everyone, including Ronan, looked up reflexively.

“Hey, what’s that?”

“The magic circle is—.”

Ronan looked up at the sky and raised an eyebrow. A sight he had never seen before was unfolding. Dozens of magic circles connecting the world of giants to this one were slowly disintegrating.

But it didn’t seem to dissipate completely. The elements of the magic circle, divided into letters and pictures, began to swirl in a giant swirl, drawing another magic circle.

It didn’t look like anything good was going to happen. The clouds that had disappeared were gathering once more. Looking up at the sky, the Savior clenched his fists.

“That’s—!”

Thunder roared in the white clouds. With each flash of lightning, something huge peeked out from within the magic circle.

Some were like wings, others like human limbs. The giants that had been attacking the battleship Dynhar stopped moving in unison. One of the silent giants slowly opened its mouth.

“He is coming.”

****

“Ugh… Is it still far?!”

“It’s just a matter of time.”

Schlieffen replied dryly. Despite running the same distance, he hadn’t broken a sweat. To this, Akmun Marja added strength to his legs.

“Shit—!”

He was glad the armor held his chest from jiggling. The three of them were running toward the top of the Pale Castle.

It was where the ritual of calling the giant was being performed, and where Iriel was supposedly being held. Schlieffen’s method of interrogation, which involved cutting off the limbs of his congregants one by one until he got the answers he wanted, didn’t go too badly.

It took them a long time because it was so large, and the path they traveled was littered with mutilated corpses. It was a wall of humanity that exhausted Marja and Braum, who were confident in their physical strength. Marja said.

“By the way—what happened to Irene, anyway, that she’s the saint of these fanatics?”

“I don’t know about that–whoops.”

Braum shook his head. They were shocked to learn the truth of the matter: the reason for Iril’s kidnapping was to make her a saint of the Order.

Of course, no one suspected betrayal – they’d all met Iril before – but it was such a bizarre case that they wanted to make sure it was true.

“I’m running out of blood now, and that’s bad—whoops, we’re going to have to settle this in a hurry.”

“Sure.”

Braum muttered, his voice filled with concern. Marja bit her lower lip, the pool of Ronan’s blood now slowly revealing itself as he spoke.

He didn’t say it, but Schlieffen was in a similar situation. This was a very serious matter, because a star’s favor is not something that can be broken just because you’re good.

If they waited, they could be defeated by a bunch of ruffians who could barely use a shield. None of them wanted that ending, so they picked up the pace without a word. Finally, they reached the top floor and stepped out into the hallway. Braum’s eyes widened to the point of bulging.

“You’re all in danger!”

“What?”

Marja was about to say something. Braum, who had gotten in her way, raised his shield. At the same time, a huge explosion roared out. A cloud of flame and electricity engulfed the landscape in front of the shield.

“Ugh—!”

“Brahm!”

Braum gritted his teeth; his arm was going to be ripped off at this rate. If he was any slower, he would be in for a big surprise. Just then, as the explosion subsided, he heard a voice.

“Oh no, I’m stuck.”

“Who are you!”

Concentrating, Marja swung her greatsword in a wide arc. A crescent-shaped sword energy shot out, and the smoke in the corridor was blown away. A burly man stepped out.

“I thought I had Zyfa—I’m so unlucky.”

“You are—.”

Marja narrowed her eyes. The man behind her narrowed his eyes, a powerful man of bishop’s rank, judging by the badge on his sleeve.

“Kids, how dare you think you’re in the right place.”

“Bam—!”

Marja and Braum’s shoulders slumped. The flesh oozing from the man’s body was extraordinary. It was beyond anything they had ever encountered.

“I’m asking you, you’re not here because you’re lost, are you?”

When the man didn’t answer, he asked irritably. The same lights and flames he’d seen earlier were flickering around him. Marja and Braum exchanged a quick glance. A strategic assault was the only way to win.

“When I signal, you go.”

“Got it.”

Marja gripped the hilt of her sword. Braum nodded and prepared to run. Schlieffen, who had been silent and scanning the hallway, spoke up.

“Is there a ritual going on beyond?”

“What?”

The man frowned. Schlieffen’s gaze lingered on the massive doorway behind him. There was nowhere else to climb, so unless his information was wrong, the ritual must be taking place there.

“I asked him if there was a ritual going on to call the giants from beyond.”

“—Ha, you’re a brat. I see. That’s why you came all the way here.”

The man smirked. Judging by his demeanor, it was something to relieve some of the boredom. After all, if he’d spent his entire life being hailed as the Empire’s brightest star, it wasn’t unreasonable to be overconfident in his abilities.

As the next archbishop, he was confident that he would never lose. He had heard that several archbishops had been killed by him, but there were always variables like Ronan and Jaifa at his side.

But the beggars next to him didn’t look like the right people. We can play with them until Jaifa gets here, the man thought.

“I’m afraid not. I would have gladly accepted such an honorable task. Damn you, forcing a soon-to-be archbishop to take care of some wench—.”

“—What?”

“You said it was babysitting. Well, I’ll play a little. I was just getting bored, too—”

The man was trying to beat the horse. Suddenly, Schlieffen’s figure disappeared from view. Before he could react. He heard the sound of the wind blowing, and then Schlieffen appeared behind him.

“What—!”

“Thanks for letting me know.”

Schlieffen said. In his hand he held a longsword that now glowed a bluish color. The man tried to turn his head, but his body remained motionless, a few red lines tracing over his hardened flesh.

“Big—billion.

“But calling her low is unforgivable.”

Ironclad. The leaden Schlieffen finished. At the same time, the dismembered body collapsed. Kwajangchang! The frozen limbs shattered upon impact with the floor. Schlieffen, who had just struck, swung his sword at the doorway.

With a bang, the door shattered, revealing the scene inside. It was an ornate room fit for an empress. A huge chair, reminiscent of a throne, sat in the center of the room.

And on the chair sat a familiar woman, fast asleep, though dressed differently, she was clearly the one he was looking for. Schlieffen’s eyes widened. Slowly, he approached her.

“—Ms. Eileen.”