The Wandering Priest in Dark Fantasy Chapter 63

[Translator - Peptobismal]

[Proofreader - Max]

Chapter 63: Demon Hunting (4)

Screams and shouts erupted from all directions.

The sharp tallic clang of blades clashing against each other was incessant.

Hal quietly held his breath.

Ti was not on his side.

Most of the infected knights had been subdued, but the allied forces had suffered heavy casualties.

Rupert's knights, who had been forced to fight amongst themselves, were especially exhausted, both ntally and physically.

anwhile, the endless stream of villagers swarming in showed no signs of stopping.

Although Ono created a barrier with his plants and Galahad led the guards in pushing back the encroaching villagers, the casualties continued to mount.

The adversaries were not just ordinary villagers; they were mixed with Trents, manipulated like puppets by Vinea.

For now, they were holding them off by dousing them with saltwater, but...

They couldn't fend off thousands of enemies indefinitely.

'I need to finish this quickly.'

Hal tightened his grip on his sword.

He would not use Dragon language.

No, he shouldn't have revealed his Dragon powers in the first place.

With so many eyes watching, he had to suppress his Dragon powers as much as possible during the fight.

It was tricky, but manageable.

The flow of mana and aura.

And even the magic imbued within the talisman.

Everything felt more vivid than ever.

That's when it happened.

"Kill him!"

The infected knights guarding Vinea charged towards Hal.

Simultaneously, as Vinea chanted a spell, vines sprouted from the ground, ensnaring Hal's feet.

Hal, gazing intently at the vines, lightly swung his sword.

"Talisman Control Technique: Release, Shadow Bind."

In an instant, shadows extended from the sword, binding the ankles of the oncoming knights.

Then, Hal exerted force in his legs.

The vines encasing his feet, unable to withstand the force, snapped with a cracking sound.

Hal kicked off the ground and dashed forward.

Like a streak of lightning, Hal's sword flashed.

Reaching Vinea in the blink of an eye, Hal brushed off his blood-stained sword and spoke.

"They say that in exchange for troubleso abilities, your direct combat prowess is weak. Indeed, it seems to be true."

"H-how can a priest..."

Vinea, her face pale, looked behind Hal.

Her puppets were still bound by the shadows.

Their heads were all severed from their necks, like harvested rice stalks.

The renowned knights had been defeated without a fight.

This was an unimaginable sight for Vinea, who had witnessed Hal forfeit during the semi-finals of the swordsmanship tournant.

She should have taken the title of 'Saint' a little more seriously.

"This can't be..."

Vinea gritted her teeth and swung her hand.

Thorny vines whipped through the air like lashes.

The whirling vines shot towards Hal with precision.

'Here it cos.'

Whoosh! Bang!

The serpentine whip flew in with terrifying speed.

Hal barely managed to dodge the attack by leaning back.

Though it rely grazed the air, a bead of blood welled up on Hal's cheek.

A direct hit would have torn his flesh apart.

The biggest problem was...

'It's fast.'

Hal adjusted his grip on the sword and glared at Vinea.

Reacting after seeing it would be too late.

He had to anticipate the location and timing of the attack as the vine coiled.

It was difficult to counter.

This was the fearso aspect of a whip.

Utilizing centrifugal force, the speed of its tip increased exponentially compared to its length.

With simple support at the point of origin, the tip of a whip could reach the speed of sound.

"I've put so much effort into this territory... This is just the beginning!"

Vinea, in a frenzy, lashed out with dozens of vines.

At the sa ti, as if abandoning her human form, she began to take root in the ground.

Vinea's entire body, not just her hands, started transforming into a plant-like form, becoming neither flower nor human.

As her size increased, so did the number of vines she wielded, making it virtually impossible to approach her.

Observing Vinea, Hal muttered calmly,

"How foolish."

Hal, watching the whirling vines, lifted an oak barrel filled with saltwater.

Seeing this, Vinea finally realized her mistake.

"How do you plan to dodge if you've rooted yourself to the spot?"

Finishing his words, he hurled the barrel towards Vinea.

Vinea didn't have many options left.

"Ugh!"

The vine she swung shattered the incoming barrel.

The saltwater splashed out, encrusting parts of the vine with white salt and turning them brown.

However, by sheer luck, she managed to prevent it from reaching her main body.

"Ha... Haa..."

Just as she caught her breath and felt a sense of relief,

"It's not over yet."

Hal's calm voice accompanied several more salt barrels flying in from all directions.

"Ah."

Vinea let out a short groan, almost a death rattle.

Just a little longer.

If she could just hold on a little longer.

Vinea gritted her teeth and swung her vines with all her might.

Crash!

The oak barrels shattered, and saltwater poured down from everywhere.

She could feel her vines losing strength and withering away.

But the end was drawing near.

"Kgh!"

Finally, when the saltwater splashed onto her body, Vinea writhed in pain.

However,

'Now there's no more damned saltwater!'

Vinea smirked.

From afar, she heard cries of despair.

"They're breaking through!"

"Abandon the wall! Gather in the center of the square!"

The defensive line, where humans were desperately holding on, crumbled in the distance.

If she could just hold on, that exorcist priest would be finished too.

She still had enough vines, and with this much damage, she could recover quickly.

'If I can just hold on...'

Just as Vinea turned her head, convinced of her victory,

"Talisman Control Technique: Release, Second Form."

A black spear materialized in Hal's hand.

A weapon of sinister shape, completed at so unknown point, was grasped in his hand.

Hal, assuming a javelin thrower's stance, launched the spear without hesitation.

"Shadow Lightning."

Crackle!

There was no ti to react.

She only felt sothing pierce through her body.

Looking down, she saw a gaping hole in her chest.

The surrounding area was charred black, crackling and burning.

"Gasp."

A breathless scream escaped Vinea's lips.

She could sense it.

Death.

Inevitable death had co to claim her.

Thud Thud!

Soone stood before her collapsed form.

Vinea instinctively knew this was the embodint of her impending death.

"...Priest."

"You're persistent."

The priest, with his usual expressionless face, raised his sword.

She couldn't deny the death looming before her. But it was unfair to die like this.

She wanted to spit in the face of the death that had co for her.

"Even if you kill ... my children won't stop. They'll keep going until they've killed every last one of you."

"..."

Hal paused, looked down at her, and shook his head.

"No. Your puppets will all stop. Along with your demise."

With those words, Hal struck down Vinea's neck.

Her head tumbled to the ground with a thud.

Her severed head wore a triumphant smile.

Her life might end here, but they would die here too.

As long as the roots she had planted in the ground remained, the Trents would not stop.

'Huh?'

Then, Vinea saw the priest kneeling.

The priest, Hal, clasped his hands together in pious prayer.

"Oh, righteous fire of Ehurshica, that purifies all that is unholy. Burn your enemies to ashes."

Azure flas flickered and surged across Vinea's body.

The fire, which initially appeared as a small fla around her wound, quickly spread, voraciously consuming her entire form.

But it didn't last long.

"Send back to hell the evil and all the evil spirits that descended upon this land to corrupt the virtuous souls."

As the priest continued his prayer in a resolute voice, firm as steel, the Azure flas began to rage even more fiercely.

No, it was beyond raging.

Hal's Azure flas transford into a towering pillar of fire, soaring high into the sky.

"In humility, I beseech thee, grant the power to eradicate all demons from this land."

Finishing his prayer, the priest rose from his spot and slowly surveyed his surroundings before speaking.

"Incendium Vitae."

Another boon obtained from the cabin.

A new technique, combining his incantation with the Azure flas, unfolded.

The surging flas spread out in all directions.

Like a tidal wave. Like ink spreading across water.

The Azure flas expanded outwards, forming a circle.

The Trents, caught in the fiery storm, turned to ash without resistance and were swept away.

The humans, trapped in illusions, were freed from their hallucinations as their pendants shattered.

The tumultuous surroundings fell into an unbelievable silence.

Vinea finally realized that the Azure flas had reached her roots.

She saw her own body, charred black.

Crackling sounds emanated from her remains, now nothing more than embers.

A shadow fell over her.

Above it, she saw the priest looking down at her with a cold expression.

Only then did Vinea recall the epithet of the exorcist priest who had been her opponent.

'The Priest of Azure Flas...'

Indeed, no other na could suit him better.

Crack!

With that frivolous thought, Vinea's breath completely ceased.

Hal's sword had pierced through her head.

The talisman absorbed her magical energy.

"Finally..."

Hal murmured softly.

The absorption of magical energy was undeniable proof that the demon's life had been completely extinguished.

As if to confirm this, Vinea's remaining limbs crumbled into ash.

The humans, who had been trapped in the illusion, also lost consciousness and collapsed to the ground.

The moonlight, which had been hidden behind the clouds, poured down.

"Ah."

One of the knights let out a dazed sound.

Bathed in the moonlight, the people finally realized.

The long, arduous nightmare had finally co to an end.

***

Hal approached the kneeling lord.

The instigator and the root cause of all this.

Initially, Hal had suspected that he was Vinea.

However, Lord Edmuir was not a demon.

Nor was he one of her underlings.

He remained unhard amidst the Azure flas.

That left only one possibility.

"You were a contractor. You made a pact with Vinea."

"..."

Lord Edmuir raised his head and looked at Hal.

His expression was fleeting and hollow.

No, perhaps it should be described as relieved.

His face, once filled with worry and anger, now held no trace of regret.

"Why?"

Hal simply asked for a reason, his voice calm.

The lord quietly replied,

"My wife was sick. She was on the verge of death."

"So you made a pact with Vinea?"

"...I know it was foolish. In fact, I knew it from the beginning."

Edmuir sighed and continued,

"But... but my wife's life was more precious to than the lives of all my people."

"..."

Hal looked down at him with cold eyes.

Edmuir flinched, but he didn't back down.

"I won't ask you to understand. It's obvious how despicable I must seem to soone burdened with a duty like yours."

Hal didn't answer.

Just as the lord had said, Hal couldn't understand him.

He had turned a blind eye to his responsibilities.

Even though his territory was in ruins and his wife had beco a demon, no longer worthy of being called his wife.

The lord had turned a blind eye to everything and raced towards destruction.

A man who drove others to their deaths for the sake of his loved one.

Once again, Hal felt disillusioned with humanity.

Were these beings, so readily wicked and frail, truly servants of God?

Could humans be called good and righteous?

Hal shook his head, dispelling his distracting thoughts, and straightened his sword.

It was ti to carry out punishnt in the na of God.

This situation would only truly end with Edmuir's execution.

"Do you have any last words?"

"No."

Edmuir closed his eyes in resignation.

Hal raised his sword.

"No!"

Just then, soone stepped in front of Hal.

Hal flinched and stopped his raised sword.

"Sir Tristan."

Tristan Lonely Ridge.

Edmuir's son, the boy who once admired Hal, was now shedding tears and clasping his hands together.

"Please... please spare my father. You already killed my mother. So please... just my father..."

"..."

Hal subtly hardened his expression.

Edmuir's unwavering facade also crumbled.

For the first ti, regret and self-bla were etched on his face.

He knew better than anyone that he was the one who caused this disaster.

"...Step aside, Tristan."

Edmuir managed to compose himself and ordered in a strained voice.

"No! Why does Father have to die? Please, spare him. I'll apologize in his place!"

Seeing the boy desperately pleading, Hal couldn't bring himself to swing his sword.

Then, Edmuir called out to the knight commander, who was watching from the side.

"Galahad."

"...Yes, my lord."

Galahad bowed his head with a complex expression.

Edmuir seed slightly surprised, then gave a faint smile.

"You still address that way. Thank you. I have one request. Take Tristan away."

"Your command is my will."

Following the order, Galahad pulled Tristan away from Hal.

Tristan, enraged, shouted,

"Let go! You were Father's subordinate too! And you... Hal Gilmore! I curse you. I hate myself for ever speaking to you like that."

"..."

Hal simply stood silently beside Edmuir.

Edmuir then spoke with an apologetic tone,

"I'm sorry. He'll understand when he's older."

"It's alright. I'm used to being resented."

Hal replied calmly.

Although it hadn't happened recently, exorcism often brought death and sorrow.

And those uncontrollable emotions sotis turned towards the priests.

It was actually quite common.

"Is that so... It must have been hard for you too."

Edmuir gave a short nod.

Hal quietly observed him for a mont.

Then, he placed his sword on the ground, knelt before Edmuir, and prayed.

"Ehurshica, who governs life and death. I implore you to look upon this man, forgive his sins, and welco him into your embrace."

"You..."

Edmuir looked at Hal in disbelief.

The order decreed that those who made pacts with demons could not be saved.

Hal's words were bordering on heresy.

Hal picked up his sword and stood up.

Then, he said to Edmuir,

"Ehurshica will guide you."

"Ah."

Edmuir simply nodded in gratitude.

With a prayer in his heart, Hal swung his sword.

The man who had driven an entire territory to death was dead.

But there were no cheers of joy from anywhere.

[Translator - Peptobismal]

[Proofreader - Max]