Audin had been helping Roman with his training when he noticed a group of more than a dozen people approaching from the surrounding area.
None of their eyes looked normal.
Some had their pupils spinning around in circles, others had eyes pointing in different directions, and a few were drooling.
Even so, the energy they gave off was far from ordinary.
Every one of them radiated an intimidating presence, as if they were using Will. But it was unrefined and disorderly, which made it feel off somehow.
"Are they knights?"
It was only natural for Audin to be suspicious.
He kept a mental question mark hanging in his mind. Knights are those who set themselves to vows and faith.
Their mental strength is on a whole different level from regular people. They're not ones to break easily.
So then, what were these people?
Their bodies might have been strong, but their minds were clearly shattered. That group of more than a dozen knight-level fighters charged all at once.
Whether they were true knights or not, they were definitely dangerous enemies. Audin responded immediately.
Of everyone who had fought back at the Thornbriar Fortress Wall, Audin was one of the least injured.
He'd felt some fatigue from overusing his Divine Power, but after a few days' rest, he had fully recovered.
In other words, he was in good shape.
"O Lord."
Audin wrapped his whole body in Holy Radiance as he watched the oncoming attackers. Then, as soon as one of them rushed in swinging a huge axe, Audin struck him across the face. He took a quick step and launched his fist at high speed.
By subtly varying his speed, he slipped past the enemy's awareness so his opponent didn't even have a chance to react or dodge.
Crash! Crunch.
"Swing the Divine Power."
The Holy Radiance Armor, the blade of Ragna, the knowledge gained from opening Divine Power, the words his foster father left him before departing— Everything was concentrated and fused together in that moment.
Divine Power spiraled around Audin's fist.
He moved the holy energy just as he would the Vortex technique. It was, in short, an extraordinary skill.
The struck enemy's face twisted and exploded in a spiral, helmet and all—nothing could withstand that blow. After taking down one, Audin glanced at the rest of the mindless monsters.
Behind them, he spotted someone with a flute-like instrument, grinning with a cruel smile.
Covering his mouth, the figure pressed the flute sideways so it was perpendicular to his face and began to play.
There was no sound.
Instead, the attackers only became more enraged.
Just beyond the swirling Black Mist where a head had just been smashed, a spearhead sliced through the air toward him, while two others spread out to the sides, thrusting their blades forward.
They may have been no better than monsters, but they attacked as if they'd actually practiced fighting in formation.
'If that's not the case, then that brother's flute must be giving them instructions.'
That level of tactical reasoning was basic.
And regardless, the only thing that remained was that they had to fight with brute force. Audin took a step back, holding his left hand out straight like a blade and swung it.
The light forming his Holy Radiance Armor gathered along the edge of his hand, shaping itself into a blade.
The one charging at him wore half-rusted, brown-tinged armor and thrust a long spear straight at Audin.
Audin's footwork was a bit slower than his opponent's, but he advanced anyway.
With that, he dodged the blades flying in from the sides, and with the smallest motion—just a slight twist of his body—he avoided the spearhead, bringing the spear wielder's face just into reach of his own hand.
It was as if they were practicing a set sparring routine.
Without hesitation, Audin's left hand sliced past his opponent's neck. Slash.
There was almost no sound, but the outcome was entirely different.
The rusted helmet popped into the air with a hollow clang, and where it was severed, Black Mist gushed out like a fountain.
Having dispatched one, Audin dodged a swinging axe, a heavy mace, and slashing blades as he leapt to the side.
His movements left a trailing afterimage—a long line in the air. The group, clustered together, followed his path.
Audin's yellow eyes turned icy and cold.
Gone was his usual gentle, warm gaze—now, it felt as if a bitter wind was blowing through them.
If you were to ask a priest who they hated most, who would they choose? Cultists?
Thieves? Monsters? No.
The ones they despised above all were those who resurrected the dead and commanded them—Necromancers.
There were only a handful in the world, and they committed grotesque acts by exploiting spirits and corpses.
'Why keep those who should have gone to the Lord in Heaven bound to this world?'
The reason the Cult Extermination Priesthood took the oath to live solely for the destruction of Cults was also connected to this.
Many of them had lost loved ones or acquaintances to the Cult, and some had even been forced to fight the revived corpses of those they once held dear.
The agony of having to kill the person you loved all over again—that was the driving force that kept the Cult Extermination Priesthood fighting until every Cult was wiped out.
'Draugr.'
Those who were meant to rest in Heaven's prison had instead been bound by spells and dragged back as abominations.
The collective name for such beings was Draugr.
'O Lord.'
Audin prayed silently.
He feigned retreat, shifting his weight backward, then, moving with a speed unthinkable for someone of his massive size, he shot forward.
From above, it looked as if a huge bell had broken the laws of physics, surging back and forth before springing ahead.
He seemed less a giant and more like a great stone hurled with all the force in the world. In other words, he looked like a boulder that had been hurled.
His entire body was encased in armor blazing with the light of divine power.
His hands and feet themselves transformed into maces and blades made of radiant light. Audin knew exactly what he brought to the fight.
There was something else too—a realization he'd come to after spending time with Enkrid and the pitiable brothers of the Madmen Knights.
'There's no reason to use the Holy Radiance Armor just for blocking.'
That simple, clear realization was the very source of the violence he now unleashed. Whirr—
Holy radiance surged through his whole body.
The swirling light became a spiral of destructive power, a vortex of violence. Bang! Boom! Crack!
Every swing of his fist turned that young light into a mace, and wherever it struck, it proved the power of a warrior of the Apostle Order.
If it hit a head, the skull shattered.
If it struck a torso, the body became the center, from which black mist radiated out in all directions.
When a morning star studded with wicked spikes came crashing down from above, he took it on his shoulder.
Ti-di-di-ding.
His Holy Radiance Armor deflected it to the side.
And then, the body of the attacker who'd swung that weapon was cleaved in half. Audin brought his hand down in a vertical chop.
The body split in two, each half sent flying to the sides as if someone were yanking them apart. Strength and speed combined to create pressure, and that pressure produced a shockwave.
Audin spun halfway around and kicked his leg back.
The motion was swift, but for those caught by that foot, there was nothing light about it. Boom! Fwoooosh!
As his foot struck one of them, black mist burst out in a radial pattern. The upper body was pulverized and vanished entirely.
The lower body, left behind, oozed black mist before collapsing.
Beyond the dissolving Draugr Knight, the man with the flute knit his brows. What is that monster?
He was a knight who commanded spirits.
He had once been known across the Continent by the name Death Knight.
Raised by the old Gravekeeper, he'd kept company with evil spirits since childhood, and by chance, had met a master who set him on the path of the Necromancer.
Later, he realized he had a certain knack for swordplay, and through relentless training, he rose to the rank of knight.
But along the way, he had encountered his own limits—a wall he could not cross.
"I may lack talent with the sword, but I have other gifts."
And so, he dreamed of wielding the martial might of an Order of Knights from behind the shield of borrowed souls—of making all the humans of the Continent kneel at his feet.
But then he met Balrog and died.
Even in death, however, his desire remained. Nothing had changed.
'I'll gather my forces here and even strike down Balrog.'
Within the labyrinth sealed by Balrog's power, there was nothing to do but fight. That's why those trapped here did nothing but battle again and again.
In the process, some lost their minds.
Those whose sanity broke would become Wraith Knights, doomed to wander the labyrinth forever—until a man with the talents of a Necromancer began gathering them.
The man's gaze also fell upon the woman holding off two Wraith Knights at once, protecting the man behind her with sword and shield.
She's no slouch either.
Even as she fought, she glanced in his direction several times.
Both her eyes and the eyes of the man who was destroying all the Wraith Knights he had gathered—the one with the sunken gaze—were calm and unwavering.
Realizing both of them were watching him sent a chill through him, even though he no longer had a physical body.
"Tch."
The man clicked his tongue.
He drew his sword instead of his flute, but knew he stood no chance against the monster who used his whole body as a weapon.
In truth, he knew he had only endured this long by clinging to false hope as a shield. How could anything that died to Balrog and became bound to him ever defy its master? Yet again, he gave up easily, and standing before him, Audin clenched his fist and asked, "Please release them all."
Release what?
He meant the Wraiths bound by his flute.
"…Do your best, then."
The man sneered at his opponent.
In the end, all of this was nothing but a game.
A game played by the monster called Balrog; everyone trapped here was just another toy for that demon.
If you don't like it, then kill the demon known as the War God.
Once Balrog dies, it will all be over. Of course, that would never happen.
The man knew that if he died now, he would wake up again with parts of his memory missing.
If he managed to hold on to his sense of self during that process, he could end up doing the same thing all over again.
If not—
He'd end up as nothing more than another Wraith Knight. Damn it.
At that moment, the man realized something. This isn't the first time.
I've already died plenty of times.
Old memories surged up, piece by piece.
Now that he was about to die, the memories he'd sealed away surfaced naturally. If you want to avoid giving up, you need to remain ignorant.
It was a desperate act to turn away from reality and rebel against Balrog.
Some days, he died as Balrog's sparring partner; other days, he fell battling with other wraiths. Most recently, he was struck down by the sword of a female knight.
And now, it happened again. Bang!
Audin's fist severed his memories.
"It looks like what Commander Brother had wished for has finally come true," Audin said, retracting his Holy Radiance.
He was guessing this commotion and transformation of the surroundings was because of that.
Everything around him provoked his sense of Divine Power—it was no different from being inside the Demonic Domain.
'Why?'
Long ago, he'd learned that demons wielded powers of authority.
It was something he'd picked up during his training to become a Martial Priest.
No one knew exactly what those powers were or their nature, but by intuition, he understood this must be part of Bee lrog's abilities.
'Where are you, Commander Brother?'
And most likely, right now, Enkrid was facing the owner of that power.
Where the light vanished, darkness crept in, steadily claiming the space as its own.
As soon as the Death Knight was slain, the wraiths that moved under his will began to waver, then slowly sank into the ground and dissolved into Black Mist.
Teresa, steadying her breath, gazed beyond at the strange scene, where the transformation had morphed the area into an enormous cave.
"Looks like more are going to keep coming."
Ever since she had become a Holy Cantor and Sacred Cantor, Teresa's intuition had grown even sharper than Audin's.
She didn't know exactly what had happened just now, and nothing made sense, but one thing was clear—these things would keep coming.
Relentlessly, they would appear again and again. Until when?
Until they were all dead.
Teresa listened carefully to what her instincts were telling her.
"Then I suppose I'll have to keep swinging my fists until the end."
Audin finally smiled gently as he spoke.
It was enough to just do what they could right now—this was one of the things he had learned from Enkrid.
For the moment, they couldn't look for anyone or help others.
Instead, they could fend off whatever came at them and protect those whose skin had already turned a shade of purple.
'This too must be Commander Brother's will.'
The Father Lord in Heaven would be watching over them. With that thought, Audin steeled his resolve.
Behind them, Roman used his greatsword as a staff to get to his feet.
Since his thigh had been slashed in the ambush, his right leg wouldn't follow his command.
Noticing this, one of the villagers approached and offered what looked like a bandage. It was a bandage made from the hide of a Beast.
"Thank you."
Roman spoke as he tightly wrapped the bandage around his thigh. More are going to keep coming?
And they'll all be at the level of knights, just like the ones before?
So should we just give in to despair, collapse to our knees, and wait for death?
Or should we rush in with nothing but a single sword in hand, charging forward, even knowing it will kill us?
'Neither.'
I'll hold out.
Whatever happens in the end, I'll fight and endure to the last. Roman's resolve no longer wavered so easily.
He was different from before he met Enkrid again.
Now, even if a Parasitic Beast tried to take over his mind, he was confident he could resist it. He deliberately summoned his Will and focused on the feeling.
He might not become a knight right this instant, but he could still wield a sword.
'Even if this is some trick by a being beyond what I can handle—'
He would do what he could for now.
If even Roman felt this resolute, the others weren't shaken at all.
To be precise, the Madmen Knights remained unfazed by a situation like this.
"We need to gather the residents in the Assembly Hall."
"I'll make the rounds."
Ropord, who had been watching, came over and spoke, and Fel responded.
All we have to do is herd all the residents into the Assembly Hall as if we're driving sheep. Fel was used to this sort of thing.
Boom—!
A thunderous noise rang out from afar, drawing everyone's attention in that direction.
There was Rem, a disc hovering above his hand.
It wasn't a real disc, but a visual trick created by whipping a tough leather strap rapidly over his head.