Chapter 485: Descend

A crack of a smile appeared on the demon’s rock-like lips as it playfully grabbed Oliver’s hand.

It did so softly, like a subordinate to a superior.

Then, it pressed its forehead against the back of Oliver’s hand, and from there to his shoulder, flames started burning without fire.

It was a strange sight—burning without fire. But that was the only way to describe it.

Just by touching his forehead, the unknown demon caused Oliver’s hand to shrivel, spreading the effect until the skin collapsed inward, tearing, and turning black.

The burning pain that scorched his nerves was unimaginable.

Yet there were no flames to be seen.

All there was were horrific burns that spread to his shoulder and revealed the red subcutaneous tissue beneath.

Even that tissue darkened and shriveled from the intense heat and smoke.

“Urgh…”

The pain, so intense his eyes shot open, made his hair stand on end. The pain resonated through his bones.

It was a pain Oliver couldn’t even describe with his lacking vocabulary as he gasped and fell to one knee.

It hurt—a lot.

This wasn’t normal pain. It wasn’t an attack directly on the nerves, but something more fundamental.

A kind of pain that neither resistance nor endurance could combat.

For Oliver, there was no other way to describe it but as a disaster.

“Grrrr…”

Oliver groaned, collapsing on the floor in agony. It had been a long time since pain forced him to utter a sound.

He looked at his right arm, which had burned from the demon’s greeting.

The skin was scorched black like charred wood, dry and cracked, with red flesh—or perhaps embers—visible through the gaps.

Instinctively, Oliver tried to move his fingers but immediately regretted it as pain shot through his brain and heart like a knife.

It was terrifying—utterly terrifying.

“Huff… Huff… Huff…”

“Dave!!”

Unable to stand or even move due to the unimaginable pain, Joanna rushed to Oliver’s side, forgetting about the demon and the Holy Knights.

Her emotions, a mix of confusion, surprise, and sadness, were visible as she used Healing Holy Power on Oliver’s burned arm.

The miraculous treatment restored Oliver’s arm without any intermediate process, almost as if it had never been injured.

A soft yellow light enveloped Oliver’s arm, but nothing happened.

“…Huh?”

Joanna was so shocked that her pupils widened, and she blurted out a foolish-sounding noise.

The other Holy Knights were the same.

The reason was simple: they couldn’t believe it.

Even if the earlier Holy Power had failed due to a lack of strength, the fact that the Healing Holy Power was also ineffective defied all logic for the Holy Knights.

Holy Power was a gift from God to combat demons. So how could it not have at least some effect?

As doubts and fear reached their peak, a voice resonated through their minds like an echo.

[Because it is not a power given by God.]

The voice came from an unknown place. Both Oliver and the Holy Knights looked at the demon.

In the extreme situation, instinct had replaced reason, helping them find the correct answer.

[That power was not bestowed by him.]

The demon reiterated: Holy Power was not given by God.

Oliver felt a slight interest, while the Holy Knights experienced earth-shattering confusion.

For them, their position as Holy Knights defined everything about them—protecting humanity and the human world on behalf of God was their entire purpose.

The idea that God did not grant Holy Power? That was harder to accept than death.

So, one of the Holy Knights, overwhelmed by the demon’s presence, cried out.

It was the Red-Haired Holy Knight who had grabbed Oliver by the collar earlier.

He shouted out with both faith and fanaticism shining in his voice.

“You’re lying! Demon!”

The demon looked at him silently.

“God gave us this power to protect the world he created and his children! He gave us this strength! Do not try to deceive us with falsehoods! Your lies are enough with just your voice!!!”

Fueled by faith, fanaticism, self-identity, and a sense of purpose, the Holy Knight denied the demon’s words.

It was as futile as an ant shouting at a human, but the act itself had value—the existence of other Holy Knights who snapped out of the demon’s influence served as proof.

However, that was only until the demon spoke again.

“Do you really want the truth?”

The demon looked at the Holy Knight and spoke in a voice that, despite its fearsome appearance, was surprisingly sweet yet filled with anguish.

Oliver’s eyes widened as blood began to flow from his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears.

Joanna and the other Holy Knights were no different.

All of them, who had barely managed to stand, collapsed to their knees, unable to cope with the pain pounding through their brains and internal organs.

Just hearing the demon’s voice caused great damage.

‘If it’s this bad for just hearing it indirectly…’

Through waves of pain, Oliver looked ahead and saw the Red-Haired Holy Knight, who had spoken to the demon with courage, burst open like a ripe fruit.

Just moments ago, he had burned all the Pinkman to death with his breath, and now his voice had exploded the Holy Knight.

“Hi-iiic…!”

Another Holy Knight, standing next to the Red-Haired Holy Knight, wet his pants, leaking blood-tinged tears, snot, and saliva as he panicked.

Shocked by the sight, he lost his mind.

Losing all reason to the hopeless reality, he discarded his weapons and shield and ran away.

His faith, courage, responsibility, and determination as a Holy Knight were scattered like refuse on the ground.

The demon, noticing this, flicked its finger, causing the surrounding darkness to consume the fleeing Holy Knight.

The Holy Knight disappeared into the darkness. Wherever he ended up, it didn’t seem to be a place of rest.

“O, Father in Heaven, protect us with your holy light; shelter us from the trials and pains of this world, I… I…”

One Holy Knight, gripped by panic, clutched his weapon and desperately prayed.

Realizing there was nothing left to fight against or run away from, he clung to his faith.

While his actions were understandable, it didn’t seem fitting.

A Holy Knight should not have fled, nor should they merely pray.

Prayer was more suited for priests and laypeople.

It seemed the demon also shared Oliver’s view.

[O, my Holy Father,]

The demon approached the Holy Knight, who had given up everything and started praying.

[Will you now swear by the weapon and shield you’ve been given?]

The demon stood before the Holy Knight.

[I vow to become the shield that protects humanity, the sword that destroys evil as you commanded. I vow to protect law, the weak, and what is good, as well as fight against chaos, demons, and evil.]

The demon grabbed the kneeling Holy Knight’s shoulders, forcing him to stand and lift his head, making him open his eyes.

[I will become the light that drives out darkness, the trumpet that announces the dawn, the armor that shields the world, and the protector of your children.]

The demon gazed directly into the Holy Knight’s eyes with its flame-lit eyes.

[Even if I become as tattered as an old shield.]

The Holy Knight’s eyeballs began to boil and steam as he stared at the demon.

[Even if I become as broken as an old sword.]

The Holy Knight screamed with a sound too horrific to be called human.

[I will never turn away, never flee, never abandon my task. From this moment, until the day my life ends, I swear this forever.]

As the demon finished its recitation, the screams subsided, and the Holy Knight, now emitting steam, turned into a pillar of salt.

It was unsettling to realize that people could turn into salt pillars… Oliver decided not to question it.

He had just learned that demons were beings beyond understanding or questioning.

The important thing was that three Holy Knights had been taken down… Although the word ‘taken down’ might not fully capture what had happened.

‘…A judgement?’

Despite the burning pain and internal injuries, Oliver clung to his consciousness, trying to think.

He needed something to focus on to avoid passing out. Even a moment of mental lapse might cause him to lose consciousness.

Holding onto whatever consciousness he had left, Oliver searched his pocket for the Paper imbued with portal magic, letting go of his quarterstaff.

He needed to escape. The mission was important, but not something he could continue pursuing like this.

No matter how vital the mission, it became meaningless in the face of a tsunami or earthquake.

[Are you okay?]

While Oliver was distracted searching for the Paper, a leg appeared in front of him without any prior warning.

He looked up and saw that the demon, his body still burned and blackened like charred wood, was standing there.

Behind the demon were Holy Knight Anselm and Joanna. Neither of them should have been at that location… The demon had moved them there without any time for them to notice.

It wasn’t just advanced spatial magic… No, it was something far beyond that. A miracle, perhaps?

Amidst the repeated inexplicable events, Oliver, rather than feeling panicked, found himself growing calmer as he closed his eyes.

The demon silently waited, giving Oliver several minutes of silence.

After a moment of this pause, Oliver spoke.

“…It’s painful, but I’ll manage.”

[No harm was intended.]

“I know.”

Oliver responded. He couldn’t be sure, but it was probably true.

It would have been best to confirm with the Warlock’s Eye, but it was like looking at the sun with one’s bare eyes—he didn’t dare try it.

[You have arrived a little too early, I see. Still, you haven’t shed your old self.]

Oliver tilted his head, puzzled. Too early? Shedding? He couldn’t comprehend the words, but something else concerned him more.

“Do you possibly know who I am?”

Oliver asked. He lacked skill in conversation, and it was possible he misunderstood, but the demon’s tone felt more like one speaking to an acquaintance rather than someone meeting for the first time.

He had assumed the demon was merely polite, speaking formally out of respect.

The demon nodded.

[We know you.]

‘We’…? Oliver got an answer but only ended up with more questions.

As he tried to ask for a clearer explanation, the only light around—the demon—was surrounded by a swirling, rotating darkness.

The pressure of Hell’s energy, and Fen’s shadow, filled the surrounding darkness, which he hadn’t noticed earlier.

Thunk!

The swirling darkness condensed into a spike that suddenly stabbed into the demon’s chest.

Its size and sharpness were first-rate.

Judging by the spellwork and immense number of souls used to create it, it wasn’t something made on the spot. It had been prepared over a long time for this very moment.

The success of the first strike proved it.

Once the initial attack hit its target, the subsequent spellwork triggered in a chain reaction. Darkness engulfed the demon from all directions, driving more spikes into its body.

Not stopping there, hooks attached to iron chains latched onto the demon’s body, pulling tight.

Sound of dragging chains, followed by a thud!

The demon’s body was impaled and pulled.

Oliver, who had been directly in front of the demon, should have been gravely injured as well, but somehow he found himself relocated next to Joanna and Anselm, avoiding harm.

“I am the true Prince of Hell! I summoned you here!! I thought we could have a conversation, but you dare ignore me! Now, pay the price!!”

Fen emerged from the darkness, blood streaming from his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears, holding a mass of souls. He commanded his newly created shadow-creature to deploy a large-scale spell on the surrounding darkness, driving nails and hooks into the demon’s body with no gap left unpierced.

Judging by his angry expression and emotions, he seemed utterly furious. It appeared that he felt disappointment and betrayal.

In the confusing situation, Joanna supported Oliver, her voice shaky from exhaustion.

“S-Sorry, but I can’t heal you at all…”

“It’s okay… but could you support my back for a moment?”

Though surprised by Oliver’s unusual request, Joanna supported his back, allowing him to search his pocket more comfortably for the Portal Paper.

Whether Fen won or the demon won, Oliver had to escape. In his current state, there was nothing he could do.

“This is…”

Oliver found the Paper, but it had already turned into ash and crumbled away.

He couldn’t understand how, but it seemed like something the demon had done.

Fighting wasn’t an option, and now, escape wasn’t an option either… It reminded him of his time in the mines.

Back then, not only the children but even most of the adults had lost hope and given up, just as Joanna and Anselm seemed to have done now.

He hadn’t realized it at the time, but now, it didn’t appear to be such an admirable emotion.

“Joanna…”

“Y-Yes?”

“I’m sorry, but could you check my left inner pocket where you’ll find a silver cigarette case? Could you take it out for me?”

Joanna dutifully complied and searched the pocket as requested. But whether due to the demon’s presence or the sight of her dead comrades, her actions were half-hearted, like eyes dimmed by despair.

It seemed like her will to act had been shattered.

“Director Ameline.”

“…”

“Cecile, Simon, Vanessa.”

Oliver mentioned the staff of the Ark Orphanage.

He also mentioned the children he had met there.

“Julie, Antonin, Gérard, Alain, Maurice, Francoise, Ardie…”

As Oliver spoke their names, Joanna’s eyes regained their light.

“The Director is studying the Kingdom’s language for you, Joanna. The other children say they’d like to visit Randa.”

“…”

“Please, hand me the cigarette case.”

When Oliver asked again, Joanna regained her senses and quickly took out the silver cigarette case from his inner pocket.

Inside the case were two Filgarett cigarettes.

They were made from the beautiful light Oliver had struggled to gather from the outside world.

Though rare, he hadn’t intended to use them casually, but today was an exception.

“Please put one in my mouth—”

—Bang!

Holy Knight Anselm suddenly closed Joanna’s silver cigarette case.

The inexplicable action drew everyone’s attention to him.

“Knight?”

“… Inequality, destruction, worthless, the Lord of Fire and Darkness, the licentious apostle.”

“…?”

“He made mothers sleep with their sons, forced fathers to couple with their daughters, made men and women bond with the same sex, and combined adults with horses, dogs with children. For pure pleasure, he mixed many humans, forcing their arms to intertwine and shoving them together, placing another’s wife and husband in the same bed.”

Oliver looked at Anselm. His gaze, expression, and emotions were all extremely serious, showing sheer determination.

“As a result, the great city fell in flames, with everything turning to pillars of salt… That is the nature of this demon.”

“Ah… that’s incredible. Did you know this, Joanna?”

Joanna shook her head.

“I’m still—”

—”You wouldn’t know. Detailed information about demons is only available to those who’ve spent over eight years as a Holy Knight.”

“Is that so?”

“Indeed… Now, answer me. Who exactly are you, receiving a greeting and even help from a demon?”

Anselm asked, but it wasn’t out of curiosity.

His firm resolve and the Dagger in his hand indicated he had already made up his mind.

“…I am—”

Oliver began to speak, but before he could finish, Anselm, conflicted but resolute, raised his Dagger to stab him.

Joanna was too shocked by the scene in front of her to do anything, and though Oliver wanted to resist, his burned right arm prevented him from doing so.

So the Dagger was about to pierce Oliver’s heart—

—Boom!

Just before the Dagger could reach his heart, there was a flash, and Holy Knight Anselm disintegrated.

The demon, still impaled with spikes and chained hooks, had turned its head 180 degrees to look at them. It was extremely calm.