Chapter 155
The pillar of light that shot up into the sky was closer to the Church’s forces than Antero had initially thought. Scylla, with growing urgency, pressed Antero to lead the troops toward it.
“He’s there,”
“Who’s there?” Antero asked, still suspicious.
“The one who killed the paladins. Yunnaeril’s brother.”
“And how do you know that?”
“…You’re holding the Starfall and still know nothing, you fool. Just follow orders,”
Antero bristled at the insult, but before he could retort, he felt something cold and sharp press against his throat.
“My word is the Cardinal’s command.”
The snowstorm was fierce, and visibility was poor, so no one noticed Scylla threatening Antero.
“…Move faster!” Antero barked out, raising his voice to hasten the march. “There! Our target is where the light falls!”
The paladins and soldiers, spurred on by Antero’s urgency, tightened their reins and quickened their pace. The Church’s forces steadily closed in on the distant pillar of light.
Meanwhile, Binaeril’s consciousness hurtled back from the spirit world to reality. A splitting headache assaulted him as he tried to regain his bearings. Shaking his head to clear it, Veritas’s voice spoke in his mind.
—*It was dangerous to stay any longer. You almost couldn’t come back.*
‘If it was that dangerous, you should have warned me sooner,’ Binaeril thought back, annoyed.
—Be grateful I brought you back in time.
Gradually, Binaeril’s senses returned to normal. Inyakan was still singing, and the other Barbaroi had joined him, caught up in the powerful atmosphere. As the living voices resonated in harmony, Binaeril thought he could faintly hear the spirits of the Inya singing along. Their voices seemed to merge with the living, and with them, the magic in the air was also resonating.
The light that had enveloped Binaeril had now faded. He carefully approached Priya, not wanting to disturb Inyakan and the Barbaroi in their trance-like state.
“This is it. This is the sound I heard with Yunnaeril.”
“The mana is surging,”
“What about the Fragment you carry?”
As the song reached a crescendo, Binaeril could feel the magic within Veritas resonating as well. It was clear—this was the power of the Fragment. The power of the Inya’s *Word Spirit* was manifesting more concretely.
—*Prepare yourself,
This time, it was different from absorbing other Fragments—like the sword, the scepter, the ring… All those Fragments had been physical objects. But this Fragment wasn’t like that. It was a power embedded in the blood of the Inya.
—*Sing along,*
‘I don’t know the lyrics,’
—*Improvise. Just follow their lead.*
Watching Inyakan closely, Binaeril began to mimic the words of the song, doing his best to keep up with the melody. As he did, he could feel Veritas’s magic gradually synchronizing with the magic of the Inya tribe. The energy of the Inya began to flow into Veritas and, in turn, into Binaeril himself.
Unbeknownst to him, blue wings sprouted from Binaeril’s back once again, but this time, there were four instead of two. The wings fluttered behind him like those of a butterfly, glowing with a vivid blue light.
Inyakan, having sung with all his might, finally brought the song to an end. Though he had no knowledge of magic, he sensed that Binaeril was engaged in something beyond his understanding. He knew that if Binaeril was truly communicating with his tribe’s spirits, proper dialogue would be nearly impossible without his presence. The Inya tribespeople were not known for being easy to converse with, and they respected authority above all else.
As the song went on, Inyakan himself became entranced, losing himself in the rhythm. Warriors from other tribes—Cherokee, Ainu, Mohawk—joined in, their voices blending with his. At some point, he felt the presence of his deceased family members singing along with him. When the song finally ended, it felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and his mind, which had been wandering in another realm, returned to reality.
When Inyakan looked at Binaeril, he was shocked to see wings on his back—four of them, not just the two he had seen before. The four blue wings, arranged in pairs like those of a butterfly, were fluttering gently behind him. Binaeril, meanwhile, could feel the power of the Fragment growing stronger within him, its energy more potent than ever before.
“This… this is the power of the Inya…” Binaeril murmured. It wasn’t just a feeling—he was overflowing with strength. The moment he absorbed the Inya’s Fragment, he had also inherited some of their warrior spirit and their incredible physical strength. He felt a nearly uncontrollable urge to release this power, to smash something, anything.
“Inyakan, is this how you feel all the time?” Binaeril asked, his voice tinged with a strange mix of awe and bewilderment.
“What are you talking about?” Inyakan replied, clearly puzzled.
“Is everything going according to plan? What’s happening?”
“The Fragment of Inya is now within me.”
“What happened to the tribespeople?”
Binaeril recalled the spirits he had met in the spirit realm. “The Fragment was just the manifestation of their *Word Spirit* power. Their existence wasn’t tied to the Fragment itself, so I believe they’ve returned to their eternal rest.”
“…That’s a relief,”
With that, Binaeril had accomplished the primary goal of their visit to Barbaroana. He looked around at the other Barbaroi, thinking of the journey back and the steps they would take together from here on out.
“Something’s coming our way!” someone shouted, their eyes fixed on the horizon where a cloud of snow, kicked up by galloping horses, rose like a white plume.
At the edge of their vision, the Church’s army was fast approaching.
“There they are!” The paladins, led by Antero, let out cries of excitement as they spotted the group gathered in the distance. They were almost relieved to see their quarry after the long, grueling pursuit.
“Found them,” one paladin muttered with a twisted grin.
“Let’s finish this quickly and head back to the Holy Kingdom! I can’t stand another minute in this frozen wasteland!” another shouted.
“But who are those people gathered over there?” someone asked, confused by the sight of the assembled Barbaroi.
Antero, however, recognized them immediately. He remembered the faces of Binaeril and his group from their encounter in Aliba.
“It’s them! The barbarian and the mage we met in Aliba!”
With their target identified, there was no need for further hesitation.
“They must have allied with the barbarians!”
“No matter. We’ll cut them all down!”
“Prepare for battle!”
“Swords of the Order! Charge!” Antero bellowed.
Binaeril and his companions recognized the flags of the approaching army—it was the forces of the Holy Kingdom of Vitory.
“How did they track us here?” Binaeril wondered aloud.
“Persistent bastards,” Inyakan grumbled.
“What are we going to do, Binaeril?”
If it had just been the three of them—Binaeril, Inyakan, and Priya—escaping would have been easy. But now, they were with the Barbaroi. They couldn’t simply abandon them.
“We fight,”
“Paladin Antero, Lucio, Sixto, and Gregory… Four of the Church’s holy knights are here,” Priya noted, scanning the enemy ranks. She quickly counted them and frowned. “But I don’t see Yunnaeril.”
“At least my brother isn’t among them,” Binaeril said, feeling a small relief.
But then, he noticed something unexpected. In place of Yunnaeril, Antero was holding something very familiar.
—*Binaeril! It’s the Starfall!* Veritas’s voice rang out in his mind, alarmed.
It was true. Antero, the paladin from their encounter in Aliba, was holding the Starfall.
“I’ll take care of Paladin Antero,”
“I’ll handle the big one,”
“Then Lucio and Sixto are mine,”
The trio quickly chose their targets, but the paladins weren’t the only threat. The Church’s soldiers outnumbered the Barbaroi warriors by at least two to one.
Inyakan swiftly explained the situation to the Barbaroi.
“They’re from the Church, and they’ve been hunting us. These civilized men are particularly ruthless.”
“Don’t worry, Inyakan! We’ll take care of the rest of their soldiers! Your enemies are our enemies!” the Cherokee Khan shouted boldly.
Now the enemy was close enough that their voices could be heard clearly.
“Let’s avenge the vice-captain!”
“Kill the heretics!”
“Rewards will be given to those who distinguish themselves in battle!”
The first to charge forward was Paladin Gregory, a warrior whose massive build matched his brutal and overpowering swordsmanship. Inyakan rushed to meet him head-on. Gregory instinctively recognized that his opponent was formidable. As they closed the distance, their eyes locked in a fierce glare, as if trying to gauge each other’s strength.
When they were close enough, they shouted their names as they clashed.
“Inyakan!”
“Gregory!”
Gregory, without slowing his charge, drew his sword and swung it downward in a powerful vertical slash. He knew that many of the Barbaroi were famous for their immense strength, but he had never lost to anyone in a contest of raw power. He was confident this time would be no different.
Meanwhile, Paladins Lucio and Sixto, twin brothers known for their deadly coordinated attacks, focused on Priya.
“Priya! You’ve finally chosen to defy the Church!” Lucio taunted.
“Don’t think we’ll go easy on you just because you were the captain’s lover!” Sixto added.
Priya scoffed. “So, I’m facing off against two rather unpleasant brothers, huh?”
At the same time, Antero drew the Starfall as he approached Binaeril. He knew Binaeril was a powerful mage and wasn’t about to underestimate him.
“Those wings… what’s happened to you?” Antero asked, eyeing the four ethereal wings now sprouting from Binaeril’s back. The wings, once just a pair, had doubled, making Binaeril resemble an oversized fairy.
“Paladin Antero, you’ve come at the perfect time,” Binaeril replied, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. He had been itching to test his newfound Inya power on a worthy opponent. “How did you come to possess the Starfall? Did my brother give it to you?”
“Worried about Yunnaeril? Your concern is misplaced. The Starfall belongs to me now,” Antero sneered.
“Haha! No need to worry. You’ll be meeting my brother in hell soon enough—ask him yourself when you get there,” Binaeril retorted, his tone cold.
As Antero closed the distance, Binaeril remained still, not making any move to defend himself. This puzzled Antero, but he also saw it as an opportunity. He swung the Starfall in a low, horizontal arc, aiming for Binaeril’s neck.
But just before the blade could connect, Binaeril envisioned weapons encasing his arms. Blue mana surged, forming solid constructs around his hands and forearms—armor that closely resembled Inyakan’s bracers but extended to cover his entire hands like gauntlets. Binaeril extended his arm and met the Starfall head-on.
The force of the clash sent a shockwave through the air. Antero, unprepared for such resistance, was thrown off his horse and hit the ground hard. He only narrowly avoided breaking his neck thanks to his quick reflexes. The fact that he, mounted and charging, had been overpowered by a supposedly weaker mage standing his ground was beyond comprehension. It defied all logic.
‘Damn that magic!’ Antero cursed inwardly, attributing his struggles entirely to Binaeril’s sorcery.
Barely having time to regain his stance, Antero was forced to raise his sword to fend off another strike from Binaeril’s gauntlet. The moment their weapons clashed, Binaeril couldn’t help but think, ‘Pathetic.’
In just a few exchanges, Binaeril had already gauged Antero’s skill level. He wasn’t sure if it was because he himself had grown stronger or if Antero was truly this inept, but the fight was far easier than he had anticipated. There was no sense of facing a worthy opponent wielding the Starfall. In Antero’s hands, the Starfall was no more than a pretty ornament—its power, the overwhelming presence it held when wielded by Callisto or Yunnaeril, was utterly absent.
“You don’t even know how to properly wield the Starfall, do you?” Binaeril taunted.
“Shut your mouth!” Antero barked back, but his voice wavered. He was struggling just to keep up with Binaeril’s relentless attacks, despite the fact that they were engaged in close combat, where a knight’s sword should naturally have the advantage over a mage’s spells. The fact that he was being pushed back by a mage was a severe blow to his pride.
“You’re unworthy of that sword,” Binaeril continued, his voice cold and cutting.
Antero could hardly believe what was happening. He, a knight of the Church, was supposed to dominate this battle with his superior swordsmanship. Yet here he was, not only failing to overpower Binaeril but actually being driven back.
“Hand over the Starfall,” Binaeril demanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Do that, and I’ll spare your life.”
Antero’s jaw clenched so tightly his teeth ached. He had never imagined he would suffer such humiliation when he embarked on this mission.
‘Where the hell is Scylla?!’ he thought desperately, his eyes darting around in search of the Cardinal’s enforcer.