Chapter 700: The Promise

As the morning sun rose beyond the horizon, the world was illuminated once again.

The pitch-black night sky gradually turned to a bluish-gray, and the earth was dyed in the red glow of sunlight.

It was a scenery where hope seemed to naturally sprout.

However, as with everything in this world, exceptions existed, and the morning sun was no different.

There were those who felt despair instead of hope at the sight of the morning sun.

For instance, such was the case in the Holy Capital, the capital of the Pater Church.

When the morning sun that dispelled the darkness rose, a new kind of despair emerged in the Holy Capital. The ruins shrouded in darkness were now clearly visible.

Especially the hilltop in the center of the Holy Capital.

There were nearly a hundred priests and Holy Knights there. All of them were staring at a single point.

At the 56 corpses just used by the Woman on the Camel, which up until recently had been moving but were now mere chunks of flesh.

[The End is near.]

Leaving behind just that one declaration.

“······.”

“······.”

All the priests and Holy Knights remained silent.

These were people who absolutely should not be silent. Yet, they couldn’t help it. Their minds simply couldn’t keep up.

Who could fully grasp the horrifying reality wherein a Devil descended into the human world to proclaim the end of days?

Some even wondered if they were dreaming right now. If they were having an incredibly vivid nightmare.

As proof, doesn’t everything seem too calm now? As if they had just woken up from a dream.

But as such thoughts began to form, the morning sun, hanging on the horizon, emitted a blinding light that pierced the eyes of those who were trying to ignore the truth, forcing them to see reality once again.

The ruined Holy Emperor’s Palace building, the Pond that once held Holy Power but was now dried up, the skin diseases (plague) on people’s faces, the wrecked city, the countless corpses scattered everywhere.

All these things testified that a Devil had indeed descended here.

It wasn’t a dream.

The reality was that a Devil had descended and wreaked havoc upon the capital of the Pater Church. That the Devil had reclaimed Holy Power, and even shattered that Holy Power — it was all real.

Those who faced this reality slowly turned their heads, as if in a trance, to look at a certain Boy.

The Boy identified as the Prince of Hell, the Boy who had voluntarily entered the underground prison, the Boy who confronted the Devil trying to erase the Holy Capital, and the Boy who shattered and destroyed the Holy Power.

The Boy was silently staring at the ruined piles of corpses.

As if he were deep in thought about something.

Everyone followed the Boy’s silence, and as a result, a time-stopping stillness weighed down on the hill.

Just as the growing silence was about to overwhelm the people.

Tap.

Oliver, who had been standing like a statue, broke the silence by tapping his Quarterstaff on the ground.

He turned his body and spoke.

“Are you alright?”

Opposite Oliver stood Kevin and Joanna.

Unlike the priests and Holy Knights gathered here, the two of them had relatively calm expressions.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“I’m fine too.”

Hearing their responses, Oliver nodded as if that were sufficient. He then leaned on his Quarterstaff and started walking forward.

Tap······ tap······ tap······ tap······.

Oliver was now trying to leave this place. Walking on his own two feet.

Most of them thought he should be stopped. But in reality, no one moved.

The thought of being able to stop a thin, white-haired, bandaged Boy didn’t cross anyone’s mind.

“What are you planning to do?”

At that moment, Kevin stopped Oliver with a question.

Tap, tap. The Quarterstaff’s tapping stopped as Oliver opened his mouth.

“I’m not sure. I haven’t thought about what comes next······. What about you, professor? What will you do?”

“Well, I’ll probably go to Randa. I’ll reveal that I’ve become the Archive there and continue the work my master was doing.”

Suddenly, upon hearing Kevin’s answer, Oliver turned his head to look down the hill.

At the bottom of the hill, there were people who survived the catastrophe, victims of the catastrophe, and, surprisingly, living corpses who hadn’t been swept up in the catastrophe.

One of the living corpses was watching this place and made eye contact with Oliver. Realizing this, the living corpse’s consciousness fled from the corpse in a hurry.

Oliver turned his head back to Kevin.

“······It’ll be quite difficult, won’t it?”

“I don’t care. Whether it’s difficult or not, it’s my job.”

Hearing Kevin’s unwavering answer, Oliver said nothing further.

He turned to look at Joanna. The Holy Knight who had absorbed Holy Blood and bore wings on her back. The Holy Knight who faced her own sins.

“······.”

Oliver had things to say, but he didn’t know what to say, so he decided to leave this place instead of speaking.

“Oliver······!”

As Oliver took a step to leave, Joanna called out, stopping him.

Though her voice was louder than expected, Oliver stopped, and Joanna asked him through gritted teeth.

“Oliver······ are you okay?”

An unexpected question. Oliver thought deeply and then replied.

“······I’m not sure.”

And then, he walked aimlessly forward, leaving the Holy Capital.

***

“Gasp······!!”

Royal Palace of the United Kingdom.

In the office of the Secretary-General, located in one corner of the palace.

The owner of the place took a sudden deep breath while listening to an urgent report at dawn. As if something had startled them.

“Are you alright?! Master— I mean, Secretary.”

Surprised, Royal Secretary 1, who was also the Puppet’s disciple, quickly asked.

They were so shocked that they almost mistakenly called them Master.

It was a mistake even a beginner wouldn’t make. However, it was understandable.

Secretary 1 had assisted the Puppet in the Royal Family for a lifetime, but this was the first time they had seen the Puppet so shocked.

After all, the Puppet was an ancient monster who had survived for centuries, a living legend in the world of Dark Sorcerers.

Seeing him react this way, it was understandable that anyone would be equally shocked.

Secretary 1 asked again.

“Secretary, are you alright?”

“······I’m fine.”

Puppet replied. Though it was obviously a lie, Secretary 1, being a loyal disciple, didn’t pry further.

It was hard to deny a slight sense of disappointment, but Secretary 1 understood.

The Puppet had infiltrated the Holy Capital, witnessed the catastrophe and the Devil firsthand, and confirmed the disappearance of Holy Power, all while locking eyes with Oliver.

At that moment, the Puppet had felt as though a blade pierced through his heart.

He had no heart, nor had he ever felt real sensations before, but he experienced something akin to death.

Fortunately, his centuries of existence had not been in vain, and the Puppet quickly regained his composure.

“Continue with the report.”

“Ah, yes.”

The Puppet’s disciple, also Royal Secretary 1, immediately returned to their usual professional demeanor and continued the report.

“It’s not just the Holy Knights here.”

“······.”

“Not just the Holy Knights in the capital, but Holy Knights stationed in major cities across the United Kingdom have lost their Holy Power.”

Secretary 1 reported seriously, despite it being information the Puppet had already pieced together.

But the Puppet didn’t interrupt. There was a chance he could be mistaken, so he listened silently.

“The details are consistent across the board. They all say that the Holy Power within the Holy Knights suddenly drained out, flying into the night sky like starlight. Moreover, reports of this are pouring in from major cities in the colonies and key foreign strongholds where our informants are stationed······. The Holy Power of the Holy Knights has vanished!”

Secretary 1 held up the paper with the report, almost as if presenting evidence to the Puppet. It was that important.

And it truly was vital information. Holy Power was not only the force that vanquished Dark Sorcerers but also a pillar upholding the order of the world.

It was the proof that God loved humanity, one could say. But that Holy Power was now gone? This couldn’t help but plunge the world into great chaos.

It was like pulling out the foundation of a massive tower of cards stacked to a precarious height.

Naturally, the higher and larger the tower, the more devastating the fallout would be.

The rage of countless Dark Sorcerers suppressed by the power of the Holy Knights.

The fall of the Pater Church, which had used Holy Power to establish authority.

The numerous royal families that depended on the Pater Church to legitimize their rule.

And further interpretations like God abandoning humanity, leading inevitably to an anticipation of the end times.

These were merely the immediate thoughts. Each one of them was lethally significant.

You could tell just by the fierce gleam in Secretary 1’s eyes.

“As someone who deals with information, I shouldn’t speculate recklessly, but… it seems that Holy Power has completely disappeared from the world. It wouldn’t make sense if this phenomenon only affected Holy Knights in large cities······. Did you already know?”

The Puppet’s Secretary 1 asked. The Puppet responded.

“Just a few minutes ago. The Devil reclaimed the Holy Power.”

Although Secretary 1 tried to compose their expression as much as possible, they couldn’t completely hide their surprise.

It was simply unbelievable. Yet, they didn’t question whether it was the truth.

Secretary 1, like the other disciples of the Puppet, trusted their master. Instead, they asked another question.

“S-so, does that mean…the end is really beginning…? Is he the Prince?”

The extremely vague term ‘he’.

But it posed no issue in their conversation.

Currently, in the world of Dark Sorcerers, only one person was referred to as ‘he’ or ‘Him’.

The one who defeated the Pied Piper and who is revered by countless Dark Sorcerers, the Woodsman Dave.

After defeating the Pied Piper, the Dark Sorcerers who witnessed it spread the word far and wide, now everyone calls Dave ‘him’, as if even speaking his name would be sacrilegious.

The Pater Church had desperately tried to suppress this information, but now, even that would prove difficult. Without Holy Power, they couldn’t even save themselves.

Of course, magic or military might could try to suppress the information, but whether they’d succeed was uncertain.

They didn’t have as desperate a reason as the Pater Church, and more importantly, if even the Holy Knights struggled to suppress it, one had to wonder if they would fare any better.

‘Well, with some effort, it might not be impossible, but who knows…’

The Puppet thought. He wasn’t sure what course of action to take.

He had felt this way before, but after locking eyes with Oliver in the Holy Capital, his suspicion had turned to certainty.

Oliver. He couldn’t yet definitively say whether Oliver was the real Prince of Hell, but he could say with certainty that he should avoid provoking him at all costs.

It wasn’t enough to just confront a Devil; it was impossible to fight against a blessed existence.

At least, until the objective is achieved.

And yet, it was too late to just sit back and hope the disaster passes by.

He, who had put himself in prison, was starting to move again.

Although it didn’t seem like he would go directly to Randa, there was a high possibility he would eventually come to Randa.

An unstoppable, inescapable entity was approaching······. Although he had set up a reliable safety measure for this moment, he still felt uneasy relying solely on that.

More distractions were needed.

“Quite a few of our sorcerers have infiltrated the Tower of Magic, haven’t they?”

“Yes, with the cooperation of Tilda, sorcerers from the Traditional Factions have practically seized control of the Tower’s network.”

“Secretly pass this news on to them. Let the message come from someone else’s mouth.”

“Understood.”

“Tell them that Merlin has died and a new Archive has been born.”

“······!”

“And that the Archive is the Red One, a disciple of Merlin. They’ll take care of the rest.”

***

Tap······ tap······ tap······ tap······.

Oliver continued to walk forward, leaning on his Quarterstaff.

He didn’t glance at the citizens of the Holy Capital, which had been thrown into chaos by the disaster and the Devil’s appearance, nor at the people who had come to assess the situation.

Tap······ tap······ tap······ tap······.

He wasn’t even thinking. Thinking was just too bothersome and exhausting.

Occasionally, when he saw people perplexed by the disappearance of Holy Power, Merlin came to mind, but he didn’t want to think about that either.

Because Kevin had laid him to rest. So, Oliver tried not to think.

He just kept walking forward with his mind as empty as possible, and before he knew it, he had entered the forest.

Tap······ tap······ tap······ tap······.

The deeper he walked into the forest, mist began to settle in, and as he passed through it, an even deeper forest was revealed.

A mysterious, dense forest that seemed like a riddle, where he didn’t even know where he was.

Strangely, there was a castle inside that forest.

The castle where Sleeping Beauty resided. Oliver opened the castle gate and stepped inside.