The scriptures of the Salvation Order naturally included references to the seal of the Demonic Realm.
However, the records were so ancient that even Gatros couldn’t fully decipher their contents. Many parts had been lost over ti, and the remaining sections were riddled with illegible symbols and illustrations.
The Salvation Order had worked tirelessly to interpret the scriptures. One piece of information they uncovered was the story of the Saintess.
"If we find the king and reach the Holy Land, we will surely be able to break the seal again."
The idea that the Saintess sacrificed herself to seal the Demonic Realm was easy to understand. But there were conflicting records.
One account claid that the Saintess still remained in the Demonic Realm, awaiting their king.
The Salvation Order interpreted this as a taphor. After all, no human, not even the Saintess, could live for a thousand years.
Furthermore, it was widely believed that the Saintess had sacrificed herself to seal the Demonic Realm. Thus, the records suggesting she was waiting for the king must hold a different aning.
"Just as she left behind sacred relics, she must have left sothing in the Holy Land. Sothing to ensure the seal couldn’t be easily broken. It’s said the Saintess foresaw the king’s resurrection."
"Hmm…"
Ernheart rested his chin on his hand, lost in thought.
Much like the followers of the Salvation Order, their opposition seed to believe in the king’s resurrection as well.
Given that most records from a thousand years ago had vanished, Ernheart found it puzzling. While faith explained the Salvation Order’s belief, the opposing side had no such excuse.
Surely, there was a hidden truth that had yet to surface.
"I’ll understand everything once my mories return."
Ernheart was receiving the mories and powers of one of the Apostles. This transfer had been arranged by the Apostle who was the sole survivor of the final battle.
The power was returning faster than expected. Though blurry, fragnts of mories kept resurfacing.
As the king’s resurrection drew nearer, the divine energy scattered across the world grew stronger.
This energy also accelerated the return of Ernheart’s powers and mories. It wouldn’t be long before he learned the truth.
Gatros spoke again.
"What do you an by ‘the final revelation’?"
"It’s nothing special. It simply ans that was the last prophecy regarding my mission."
"Does that an you couldn’t break the seal of the Holy Land?"
"Yes. The next prophecy revealed the demons sweeping through Ruthania."
"Hmm…"
"The army of demons was so powerful that I couldn’t focus on fulfilling my mission. I could only fight endlessly."
"But you said you won, didn’t you?"
"That’s right. It took the entire kingdom being reduced to ruins and mountains of corpses, but we finally managed to kill the demon."
Ernheart chuckled unconsciously.
The demon, with its blazing red eyes, had sought him relentlessly in his dreams. All Ernheart could do was watch as the demon raged.
For so reason, the demon never found him. Instead, it vented its wrath and destroyed everything in sight.
The demon’s hatred and murderous intent were imnse, enough to shatter the world.
Yet, in the end, the combined might of the kingdom’s heroes brought it down.
"I thought that was the end of it."
With the demon’s death, Ernheart had expected the prophecy to guide him back to his mission. But no new revelations ca.
Instead, the prophecy looped back to the beginning, and his dreams were consud by chaos. Ti and space twisted together, making it impossible to discern anything.
Ernheart attributed this disruption to one individual.
"Ghislain Ferdium."
No matter how he thought about it, only Ghislain could be the one to match the demon’s cunning.
Ernheart didn’t yet know how Ghislain had managed to disrupt even the prophecies.
But comparing dreams with reality, so things beca clearer.
"Events will ultimately unfold as they are ant to. Even if the ones who take control and resolve them change, the natural order persists."
Droughts, plagues, rifts, dragons—many events unfolded as foretold in the prophecies. So were orchestrated by Ernheart and his followers, while others were not.
In the prophecies, most of these events were resolved by the Delphine Dukedom.
In reality, however, it was the Fenris Duke, Ghislain, who spearheaded the solutions.
Ernheart felt as if he already knew what would happen next.
"The Demonic Realm… the Fenris Duke will likely find it first. He’s already delved into the Forest of Beasts twice."
"…"
Ernheart casually ntioned the possibility of their order’s ambitions being thwarted, laughing as if it didn’t matter.
Gatros said nothing. He couldn’t accept such an outco.
The Holy Land had to belong to their order. Only then could the divine power be resurrected.
Clinging to a sense of unease and foreboding, Gatros set out once more.
While traveling, he overheard a rumor that left him stunned.
"They’ve… killed the dragon?"
"Yes, sir. The Fenris Duke led his people and managed to bring it down."
"Ugh… ugh…"
Gatros trembled. They had even slain a dragon. How strong had the Fenris Duke’s forces beco?
A heretical thought crossed his mind: even if the king were resurrected, he might not be able to defeat the Fenris Duke.
Ernheart rely smiled faintly upon hearing the news.
He had been certain the dragon would die from the start. To him, the dragon was rely a prerequisite and an on for what was to co.
The knight delivering the news continued with a serious expression.
"They say it wasn’t because of the Fenris Duke."
"What? Then how did they win? Did the Prince of Turian step in?"
"No, sir. It was a mage nad Alfoy who played the most pivotal role."
"Alfoy! That bastard!"
Gatros was deeply shaken.
Alfoy was already ranked as a high-level threat by the Salvation Order. Though his identity was shrouded in mystery, he had raised countless suspicions.
"Now that I think about it… that man has never faced a superhuman in combat before…"
Indeed, Alfoy had always been a secret weapon.
Even throughout nurous wars, the Fenris Duke had kept Alfoy hidden. As a result, the Salvation Order had never encountered him directly.
"Fenris Duke! You conniving bastard!"
The Duke had been hiding soone capable of slaying a dragon. Surely, there had been imnse manipulation and scheming behind the scenes.
"Could it be… all the Fenris Duke’s achievents were thanks to Alfoy’s assistance?"
The thought clarified many of Gatros’s unanswered questions. A mage capable of battling a dragon would certainly possess unparalleled wisdom.
With Alfoy’s help, the Fenris Duke had likely operated with the precision of a prophet, always prepared and ahead of the curve.
Their defeats now seed inevitable.
"Just wait… Now that I know the truth, I won’t be caught off guard again."
Gatros clenched his teeth.
If he could find the king and restore the order’s power, his first target would be Alfoy.
That was the vow Gatros made to himself.
***
Ghislain and so of the group had to wait a considerable amount of ti in the Kingdom of Sardina.
While rooting out the remnants of the enemy forces wasn’t difficult, it took ti for the main commanders of the Allied Forces to return.
Most of the enemy forces had been annihilated and scattered across the continent. The remaining army continued to patrol the regions, hunting down those who had fled.
The commanders of the Allied Forces returned to the Kingdom of Sardina with only select detachnts for a final post-war resolution eting.
While waiting for them, Ghislain focused entirely on training in the techniques of the heroes he had seen in his dreams.
He needed to increase his mana reserves and strengthen both his body and mind. Only then could he extend the duration of his power of will.
In this regard, the new techniques were imnsely helpful in elevating his level.
Julien, on the other hand, concentrated solely on identifying the strange energy that had invaded his body.
He didn’t tell anyone about it, nor did he show any outward signs. No one had any idea what he was doing, simply assuming that he was ditating as usual.
"I can’t figure it out."
The energy could no longer be sensed within his body. It hadn’t disappeared but had seamlessly fused into him, as though it had been a part of him all along.
Power he couldn’t sense or use.
It was impossible to deny how unsettling that felt.
"Hah…"
For soone as composed as Julien, even he let out a rare sigh. The enigmatic nature of this energy was enough to unnerve him.
No matter how much he pondered, he couldn’t find an answer. Yet, ignoring it wasn’t an option, so the unease dragged on.
"Why did I see the image of the Saintess?"
According to Ereneth, the Saintess had sacrificed herself to seal the Demonic Realm.
Could this energy be related to that? There was no way the Saintess would have appeared without reason.
"Should I ask Ereneth about it?"
But Julien didn’t think she would reveal the truth. Even during their earlier conversations, she had seed to be withholding sothing.
Despite knowing he should bring the matter to Ghislain or the others, Julien hesitated.
Keeping the strange energy lingering inside his body felt like a dangerous gamble. It was undoubtedly wiser to share this information. Yet…
"Why… why do I feel this way?"
A deep, instinctive resistance rose from within him—a powerful premonition warning him not to speak of it, especially not to Ghislain. Not yet.
Julien had always trusted his instincts. His supernatural intuition had guided him countless tis, steering him toward the correct path.
But now, he questioned whether this was truly his own instinct or sothing influenced by the energy within him.
Once doubt crept in, even his reliable senses beca a source of uncertainty.
"Hah…"
He let out another sigh. Julien had never felt so conflicted in his life. The more he dwelled on the situation, the heavier the frustration beca.
One particular figure flitted through his mind.
"Gatros… would eting him help clarify what’s going on?"
Julien had been curious about Gatros for so ti. If this strange energy was related to the Salvation Order, then Gatros, as one of its remnants, would likely know sothing.
The thought grew stronger, tugging at him like a compass needle pointing north.
Even so, Julien hesitated. Unlike before, when he had decided without hesitation to et Ghislain after learning about him, now there was doubt. He could no longer trust his instincts as he once did.
"Maybe… I just need more ti to think…"
While Julien wrestled with his thoughts, the Allied Forces’ commanders gathered in Sardina.
Ghislain had sent the majority of his forces back to their territories, retaining only Gillian, Belinda, a few escort knights, and essential attendants.
Yet even with so few companions, no one doubted their safety. Those few were powerful enough to decimate an entire legion on their own.
When the commanders t, despite the long ti apart, they wore relaxed expressions.
"It seems the war has finally co to an end."
"There’s nothing left to threaten us now."
"Shall we organize a pursuit team to capture that priest?"
The only remaining task was to hunt down Ernheart and Gatros.
None of them appeared overly concerned. With every kingdom and church on the continent searching for them, it seed inevitable they would be caught eventually.
Ghislain and the commanders spent ti devising plans to locate them, as well as distributing the spoils of the recent campaigns.
Territorial disputes, always a sensitive matter, were settled similarly to before. The regions bordering Ruthania were handed over to the kingdom, while the remaining lands were divided among the other Allied nations.
Ruthania, already one of the largest kingdoms on the continent, nearly doubled in size. It had now beco indisputably the most powerful kingdom in the realm.
Ghislain smiled, clearly pleased.
"At last, the tedious post-war processing is complete. Are you all satisfied with the distribution?"
"Y-yes… of course…"
"No complaints here…"
"This should suffice…"
Despite their verbal agreents, the commanders wore faintly strained smiles.
While there were no significant objections to the territorial divisions—everyone agreed Ruthania deserved the largest share—there was an underlying unease.
"They’ve grown too large… too powerful…"
"It was already one of the largest kingdoms on the continent…"
"Now it’s practically an empire."
The sheer dominance of Ruthania left them unsettled. Moreover, they dreaded returning to their ho nations, where their noble factions would undoubtedly criticize them for yielding so much land.
The thought of dealing with such criticism sapped their energy, leaving them visibly weary.
With the post-war arrangents concluded, it was ti for everyone to return ho. Each nation would now focus on stabilizing its internal affairs and researching the rifts that continued to appear.
However, the pursuit of Ernheart and Gatros ant they would remain in close contact for the ti being.
Ghislain turned to Julien and asked, "What do you plan to do now?"
Julien replied, "I’m thinking of searching for Gatros."
"Alone?"
"There’s nothing else for to do. Rather than idling, I might as well track down so dangerous people."
Julien spoke casually, as though it were no big deal.
With the war over, he felt there was little left for him to contribute. Returning to the kingdom wasn’t appealing—he knew all too well how many there resented his presence.
Unwelco no matter where he went, Julien decided that seeking Gatros might be a more worthwhile endeavor.
Ghislain fell silent, lost in thought. While Julien was capable enough to handle himself, those enemies were not to be underestimated.
"Especially Ernheart… we still don’t know what he truly is."
Considering the danger those enemies posed, allowing Julien to go alone felt unwise. More importantly, there was no need for him to act alone.
"That’s too inefficient. The pursuit teams will scour the entire continent anyway. Why wander aimlessly? It’s better to wait for information before moving."
"…But I don’t have anything else to do."
"So you’re saying you’re unemployed?"
"…"
Ghislain chuckled before offering a surprising suggestion.
"In that case, why not co to my territory? It’s a great place for an idle person like you."
Julien’s eyes widened slightly at the unexpected offer.
Nearby, Marquis Gideon, who had been listening quietly, narrowed his eyes suspiciously and approached.
Reviews
All reviews (0)