042. The Name of the Morning Star (3) (Revised)
My breath came in gasps.
The divine power that wrapped around my entire body felt like it was choking my throat.
It was extreme pain, but it was something I had already endured.
A secret art passed down only to the Saint of Hope.
Historia vividly remembered the story she heard the day she learned this.
-The first Saint always worried about the self-righteousness or whims of fate. Because she was truly free-spirited and in some ways like a child. Not an absolute good, but a neutral player. Isn’t that what fate is?
-I’m scared…
-That’s why we must exist.
The previous Saint said with a gentle smile.
-Only when fate is cruel does hope truly shine.
Historia hardened her expression.
There was a price, but the efficacy of this power was certain.
By burning life to create hope, it became possible to resist the divinity of fate.
Historia unfurled her halo.
From it, light began to pour down.
Kugwagwagwang―!
Her offensive was like a storm.
The light of the halo crushed Verheim with a destructive force, and in an instant, dozens of divine spears aimed at his vital points.
Holy magic was similar to but different from regular magic.
While magic twisted the laws of nature by manipulating mana in the air through meticulous calculations, holy magic was closer to molding earnest prayers into physical form.
Thus, the stronger the will to materialize and express an image, the more distinct and powerful the force it manifested.
In that sense, Historia’s holy magic was blooming most brilliantly at this moment.
What she harbored in her heart was regret.
What she burned was life.
Her resolute will to stop Verheim even at the cost of her life transformed into a catastrophic force.
Of course, that didn’t mean Verheim was an easy opponent who would be defeated just like that.
“Such wastefulness.”
Jjeo-eong―!
The red energy that sprouted from his fist shattered the divine spears.
As he stomped his foot, the ground overturned, creating a wave.
Saint Verheim.
Also known as, the leader of the Holy Knights, Verheim.
He was the strongest holy magician of this era.
At the same time, he was a knight with supreme strength.
Even without the ‘compulsiveness’ of the divine power of fate, even without the ‘certainty’ of blessings.
No matter how much she burned her life to summon divinity, there was an unbridgeable gap.
That gap was experience.
“Seventh. Divine Spear.”
Verheim chanted.
A short chant, but still a chant.
In a realm where chantless magic was possible, magic with added chants had to be fundamentally different from ordinary magic.
The red spear was three times larger than Verheim’s body.
The energy contained within it was purely malevolent.
Historia gritted her teeth and unfolded her shield.
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A spear struck it.
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Dozens, hundreds of wishes began to align, and then they were launched.
―――――!!!
A bombardment that seemed to blind and deafen fell straight towards Verheim.
Historia frowned.
She held her breath.
“Cough…!”
Bright red blood gushed from her mouth.
Divinity drained in chunks.
Divine punishment is the law of annihilation.
It leads to a state of ‘obliteration’, not just destroying things within the space.
Even if the amount of divinity was amplified through sorcery, the recoil was inevitable.
Her vision was obscured by mist.
She did not relax her guard.
Even if he was out of his mind, Verheim.
A man with such exceptional talent that he was among the top five in a thousand years of history.
Her vigilance was justified.
“Well done. For you, that is.”
Boom―!
Verheim, who had pierced through the mist, struck the barrier she had deployed with his fist.
Verheim’s condition was dire.
His entire body was burnt black, and his skin and muscles were torn to shreds.
The expression that was faintly visible was not as relaxed as it had been at first.
However, that did not signify his defeat.
“Number 33, regeneration.”
Ssss―
Verheim began to regenerate rapidly.
How unreasonable it was.
Even if he burned his life, the difference in talent was so severe that he could barely match her.
‘But…!’
Desperation had to be fought until the very end.
Historia seized the moment.
Thud―!
The unchanted spear pierced Berheim’s stomach at close range.
Berheim’s expression hardened.
Historia glared at him and muttered lowly.
“Number 17, Explosive Crush.”
Berheim tried to retreat, but the spear lodged in his stomach cried out faster.
Boom―!
Berheim’s abdomen exploded.
* * *
Berheim felt a deep anger at the unexpected situation.
Historia was not supposed to be this troublesome.
She was an opponent he could twist the neck of in three moves.
That prediction was twisted.
This was destroying his plan to harm her and leave immediately.
Berheim’s dull golden eyes scrutinized her.
He had to fight seriously.
The moment he realized it, he reassessed the battle situation.
The explosion in his abdomen.
The loss of internal organs.
But, it was a sacrifice he could fully bear.
It meant he could continue the fight.
‘The problem is…’
Historia’s divinity, which even created a halo.
The amount of divinity wasn’t the issue.
Wasn’t there a difference in proficiency?
No matter how much divinity she threw at him, Berheim had enough experience and proficiency to break it.
Yet, there was one reason this situation was unfolding.
‘The nature of the divinity isn’t manifesting.’
The divinity of fate is a coercive divinity.
The sacred law of destiny, imbued with the will to strike the opponent, exerts an infallible effect.
However, this did not happen against the current Historia.
Where did he learn such a technique?
I had never heard of such an effect from the sacred law of hope, yet something incomprehensible had occurred.
There was no time to ponder.
“Persistent, Berheim.”
“You too.”
“Give up.”
Crack!
Historia’s halo split apart.
In the gap, pure divine energy gathered.
Danger.
The moment he made the judgment, Berheim had already deployed a shield and used the body acceleration sacred law.
But he couldn’t erase the damage.
―――!
The energy mass, flying at the speed of light, severed Berheim’s arm.
His teeth ground together.
His gaze grew even more murky.
Amidst it all, anger brought forth calmness.
‘A way to win.’
It wasn’t impossible.
Berheim wasn’t so oblivious as to not notice what that dreadful power was based on.
“A war of attrition. Let’s go with that.”
It seemed infinite, but the total amount of power was definitely finite.
In that case, the only way was to exhaust it all.
Berheim’s form blurred.
He reappeared behind Historia.
Boom!
He kicked away the barrier.
Forcing the use of higher sacred laws?
Certainly, it’s a good method, but it’s less effective than setting up a barrier.
That was a fuel-inefficient spell that sucked up divine power the entire time it was maintained.
Bang!
Boom!
Boom!!!
Close combat led by martial arts.
This was the most difficult combat method for Historia to break.
Even if it was a countermeasure at close range.
“Divine Spear…!”
“I won’t fall for the same trick twice.”
The extent shown just before was the end.
Thud!
He wrapped his foot in divinity and stepped on the spear.
Historia’s panting was visible to Verheim’s eyes.
The limit is approaching.
The moment he realized it, he manifested a higher divine law.
“Number 36, Divine Path.”
Crackle!
Red lightning sprouted on his right arm and screamed.
Historia’s eyes widened as if they would tear apart.
Verheim extended his arm indifferently.
A close-range divine law of breakthrough.
It was a method capable of perfectly penetrating the barrier for a moment,
Thud!
“Gah?!”
It was enough to strangle Historia’s neck.
Verheim regenerated his body while suppressing Historia’s divinity.
If the opponent’s skin was touched… and if they were in such a weakened state, that much was easily possible.
“I enjoyed your little show. You tried hard for your level.”
A deep breath escaped.
Berheim was purely impressed.
“If I had known this was possible, I would have used it for other purposes. Ria, it seems I still don’t fully understand you.”
His application of holy law was immature, but his momentary wit shone brightly.
He had the mind to understand his strengths and weaknesses and devise strategies to use them.
It was not easy to be born with such a talent.
That this woman, who seemed only capable of grinning foolishly, had such talent.
“I commend you. But that’s as far as it goes.”
Squeeze―!
“Guh…!”
He strangled Historia’s neck.
He had to kill her.
Such thoughts surged to the top of his head.
‘Yes, if it’s to make Rebecca smile…’
He had made such a ‘promise,’ so if she became an obstacle, he could gladly abandon even a lifelong friend.
It was at that moment.
“Guh…!”
Historia gasped for breath.
But her appearance was strange.
“Khuh…!”
Her lips were struggling to curl up.
In her eyes, looking down at him with defiance, there was even a sense of relief.
Why?
For what reason is she making such an expression?
The question was soon resolved.
She spoke with difficulty.
“You must be quite desperate. Berheim.”
At that, Berheim’s expression hardened.
Historia’s relief stirred a sense of crisis within Berheim.
“…What are you talking about?”
“Did you forget something?”
Historia’s gaze was fixed somewhere on the floor.
The moment he confirmed it, Verheim’s eyes wavered.
‘The communicator!’
It was there.
Historia spoke.
“My goal wasn’t to win, but to endure.”
Only then did Verheim realize what he had overlooked.
The bombardment-like attack, Historia’s horrific frenzy, was all to blind him from something.
From the beginning,
KABOOM―!
…The longer it dragged on, the more disadvantageous the battle became for him.
Verheim threw Historia aside.
He hastily surrounded himself with a barrier and crouched down.
Then something came crashing down on him.
A black whip.
Behind it, ashen hair, violet eyes.
The space was dominated by a presence that flickered like a ferocious beast.
“This damn b*stard couldn’t last a day without causing trouble.”
Yuren was there.
Verheim prepared to defend and attack simultaneously.
But it was futile.
CRACK―!
The barrier crumbled from the point where the whip touched it.
At that moment, Verheim’s eyes widened as if they would tear apart.
The whip struck Verheim’s cheek.
SPLAT―!
“Ugh…!”
And then another.
“It’s not over yet.”
Prince Kallios appeared.
He whispered in a sly voice.
“First, bow your head. How dare you raise it when His Majesty is here.”
Bang!
Berheim’s head hit the floor.
*This is a revised chapter. Please refer to the notice if you have already read this chapter.*
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