NOVEL NEXT Chapter 55
Translator: Marctempest
Editor/Proofreader: TempWane
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Chapter 55: The Dead Beneath the Moonlight
······Meanwhile, near the Snow Castle.
The harsh climate of the snowfield fiercely churned the world, and the blizzard crushed the silvery back of Mishra’s head.
It felt as if the heavens were rebuking her, so Mishra lowered her head.
“······.”
If this was punishment for her shortcomings, she had no choice but to accept it.
Truly, she was so ashamed of herself that she could barely endure it.
“Haa······.”
Leaving boldly, defying orders under the guise of serving her master, had seemed like a good idea at the time.
Her intention had been genuine, without the slightest hint of dishonesty.
She had even felt a twinge of excitement.
It had been such a long time since she ventured out, and she believed with all her heart that she could genuinely be of help.
─What······ what is that?!
─A dragon!
The reactions of the creatures, astonished as if seeing a mythical beast from legend, had been amusing.
When she first set foot on the continent, hope and optimism had shone brightly within her.
But was it that arrogance that the heavens decided to punish?
Somehow, Mishra had lost her way.
─So······ where am I?
Fixated solely on thoughts of her master, she overlooked one crucial fact—the continent was far too vast for her.
Additionally, it had been thousands of years since her last excursion, leaving her as clueless as a newborn infant.
In the end, she wandered aimlessly without direction and had now momentarily returned to the snowfield.
“···The master’s presence is nowhere to be found.”
She had scoured the central and southern regions of the continent, seemingly in vain, without finding a single trace.
Even returning with faint hope, she learned that her master had not returned.
Mishra’s mood sank into gloom.
Thud-thud—snow pressed down on her head once again.
Suddenly, irritation flared within her, and she lashed out at the being beside her.
“Sasquatch. What are you doing?”
The Frost Giant, a higher spirit of snow, stared blankly down at Mishra.
─······.
“For someone so massive, to be capable of living only in the snowfield—is that truly the case?”
Mishra’s words were as unrestrained as a runaway horse.
Previously, she had been careful around her master’s spirits, but upon reflection, she too was a loyal servant of her master.
In fact, if seniority were considered, she was far older.
Moreover, neither she nor they had been able to aid their master—it was the same in the end.
“If that’s truly the case, it’s a shameful matter. After all, the master poured her energy into creating you, only for you to occupy space.”
─······!
The Frost Giant’s worthiness as a servant was questionable.
As Mishra glared at him, the giant let out a guttural noise.
But his gaze seemed to hold a hint of condescension.
Was it because his gaze was cast downward, while she had to look up at him?
“···Why are you looking at me like that? It’s as if I’m losing somehow.”
─······!
Sasquatch snorted again.
This time, it was an outright sneer.
Mishra furrowed her brow.
“You···! In all my thousands of years of life as a dragon, such humiliation······.”
There had been such moments before, but they were exceedingly rare.
To think a mere decade-old high-ranking spirit would dare belittle her.
Perhaps having faced no crises, he had grown arrogant. Something inside Mishra snapped.
It was time to reestablish authority.
She released her polymorph form.
Kwahhh──!
A towering figure of the White Silver Dragon King appeared.
The Dragon King instantly dwarfed the Frost Giant.
─······!
Sasquatch visibly wavered.
Although he was indeed enormous, the disparity in both height and breadth was undeniable.
With their gazes completely unmatched, for the first time, the giant had to look up at someone.
His head drooped.
[Hmph······.]
Mishra felt a surge of satisfaction.
As she savored the moment, her shoulders suddenly heaved dramatically.
[This··· this isn’t the time for this!]
There was no time to waste, yet what had she been doing just now?
In a flash, she turned her gaze beyond the icy mountain range.
Then, she soared into the sky.
Kwahhhh─!
It was time to begin the second act.
This time, she might have to swallow her pride and ask questions.
Her next destination was the northern continent.
*
Across Chelmberd, masses were being held.
Other regions mirrored the same pilgrimage processions, eventually facing similar outcomes.
Citizens screamed as the dead attacked simultaneously from all directions.
“Kyaaaah!”
Swoosh─!
A smooth trajectory sliced through a dead figure about to pounce on a woman.
Artan moved seamlessly to target the next foe.
The deputy commander, Hiloze, actively supported him.
“Your Highness!”
“I know.”
Having worked together for a long time, their coordination was impeccable.
The royal guard, composed of elite knights, also fought energetically.
Being warriors of the highest caliber, the dead, mere followers, were no match for them.
The foes fell like autumn leaves in a gale.
Amidst it all, Artan’s doubts lingered.
“······What exactly is happening?”
“A disaster’s doing, or perhaps yet another atrocity by the Black Path cultists.”
At that moment, a deep voice interjected.
Artan shifted his gaze.
It was Agnatz, the theologian with a monocle, firing a crossbow alongside his apprentice, Fet.
Thunk─! Swoosh─!
However, the power of the bolts was extraordinary.
The undead struck by the arrows were obliterated, their flesh mangled as they collapsed.
The crossbow was one of Agnatz’s magical engineering inventions.
Artan, watching him, asked.
“Did you foresee this situation and come to Chelmberd?”
It was a reasonable assumption on his part.
After all, Artan, having followed rumors of Agnatz, had arrived in Disdel.
There, he heard that Agnatz was heading to Chelmberd and pursued him, only for this calamity to unfold shortly thereafter.
This meeting itself had occurred less than a day ago. However, Agnatz shook his head.
“That is not the case. I merely suspected that she······ the rumored Saintess might come here. Though I doubt whether she truly exists.”
“···Saintess.”
Quellière immediately came to mind.
Could she be here?
If so, she would undoubtedly be at the center of this chaos.
“The heart of the pilgrimage procession revolves around the sanctuary near the Grand Temple.”
“─!”
“Let us move slowly.”
The elder scholar’s advice seemed to read his thoughts.
A spark of desire gleamed in his wrinkled eyes.
Artan nodded.
“···Understood.”
The core and center of the mass.
The greatest disturbance would likely erupt there.
The Crown Prince rallied the royal guard and advanced with unstoppable momentum.
*
After circling around, they arrived at the center of the mass.
As the undead, symbolic of lingering resentment, swarmed out, the terrified believers stumbled and hesitated.
But the situation wasn’t overly perilous.
The priests and clerics guarding the procession responded promptly, including the High Priestess Lucia.
“Stand back!”
Ironically, the weakness of the undead that most believers dreaded was divine power.
In that area, Lucia, brimming with talent, performed outstandingly.
─Kyaaah!
Another undead fell to the ground as light pierced through it.
Lucia wiped away her sweat and surveyed the surroundings.
She had dealt with dozens at the very least, yet the enemies were still numerous.
“If the Saintess hadn’t been here······.”
The vast number of undead saints and believers would have swarmed them like an army.
Just imagining it made her shudder.
However, thanks to her foresight, the crisis had become manageable.
She momentarily berated herself for ever doubting her.
“Die!”
“!”
At that moment, a villain clad in a black robe reached out malicious claws.
The Dark Holy Society. The Black Path cultists who were the instigators of this disaster.
Lucia, furious, prepared to retaliate immediately, but a blood-soaked blade struck first.
Slash─!
The blade shredded the man to pieces, his robes torn apart and scattered.
Beyond the flailing tatters, a red-haired woman approached.
Even amidst the chaos, the cultists recklessly targeted Nell, who unleashed her blood magic in rage.
“You cockroach bastards-!”
Nell, baring her sharp fangs, splattered blood around.
Lucia admired her impressive martial prowess.
“······To travel alongside the Saintess, that level of skill must be required.”
Was that woman also a priest or cleric?
As Nell broke through the obstruction and approached, she asked.
“Hey, how do I get up there?”
Lucia followed the direction of her pointing finger with her gaze.
Atop an iron bell tower, Quellière was clashing with Ubarta, the ringleader of this chaos.
Water droplets floated in the air, spray erupted, and waves were summoned.
With a mere gesture, Quellière froze them. Her dominance was evident.
The astonishing display widened Lucia’s eyes.
“···There’s a staircase inside the tower. But without a key, entry might be impossible. How did those two get up there?”
“Such things mean nothing. You said there’s a staircase, right?”
Nell calmly loosened her hands.
She would think after breaking in.
Just as she prepared to charge, a cheer erupted.
“Waahhh──!”
The shout welcomed reinforcements.
It was the Radiant Knights, part of the mass’s security force, charging forward with unstoppable force.
“Wipe out the cultists─!”
“Yes, follow the captain!”
Led by their commander, Targal, the knights joined the frontline.
They aided the temple forces in annihilating the enemies.
“···Serves them right.”
Nell muttered.
The remnants of the cult, whom she found distasteful, were visibly struggling.
The situation was steadily being brought under control.
Leaving this to them, she could now focus on assisting Quellière.
Just as she let her guard down, her instincts alerted her to danger.
“······!”
Nell swiftly evaded, narrowly avoiding a massive wave.
Swoosh──!
Lucia and the knights barely dodged, but a few unfortunate civilians were caught up.
The uncontrolled torrent didn’t even spare the undead, sweeping many of them away.
*
Standing in the aftermath of the wave was Ubarta, the Seventh Apostle.
It was like a sculpture, fixed in the middle of the street, mysterious like a piece of art.
I quietly took a step forward.
Step, step—
“······.”
In the silence, my footsteps echoed unusually loud.
Blank stares followed my movements.
Creak— Screech—!
The Apostle of the Frozen Wave, its frozen mouth thawed, raged to break free from its bindings.
Droplets of water dripping from its entire body were the source of the trouble.
My legs stopped in front of the ghoul frozen solid.
“Pitiful.”
Words escaped my lips at the sight of its forlorn figure.
Even after enduring its transformation into the undead, it had achieved nothing. It was merely pitiable.
“What have you been living for?”
─Screeech!
The lost Ubarta could not answer.
I took a talisman out from my pocket.
A radiant light enveloped the charm.
“The Black Calamity······ the Holy Order’s Master······ are they your masters?”
─Kiehiek!
The recoil from the magical outburst was considerable.
Even so, I somehow succeeded in drawing out mana. To think I’d have to go through such trouble.
“Don’t worry. You’ll meet them soon.”
The Calamity might be too much, but it was time to deal with the Master.
Did the ghoul sense something in my cold tone? It shrieked endlessly in dissonance.
A terrible noise.
On impulse, I thrust the talisman forward.
“So rest for now.”
Flash—!
Immediately, beams of light burst forth.
Starting from within the ghoul, they tore through its entire body, piercing its eyes, ears, and mouth, spreading outward.
A wail more grotesque than anything I’d heard before.
A maddening storm raged as I clung tightly to my hood to keep it from flying off.
And so, the Apostle Ubarta turned to ash.
“Hah······.”
With a shallow exhale, I eased my tension.
Then, I looked around.
The chaos of the undead riot seemed already resolved; all eyes were now on me.
At any rate, it appeared the situation had ended well.
Now, what should I do······ Just as I pondered this, it happened.
A dagger flew towards me.
Shwick—!
There was no time to react.
Accompanied by the sound of slicing air, the dagger tore off a part of my robe.
Silvery hair, like a flowing galaxy, spilled out.
“······!”
Gasps escaped from the onlookers.
Lucia and Nell, fidgeting anxiously, could only open and close their mouths wordlessly.
I raised my hand in alarm but quickly stopped.
“···It’s already too late.”
Closing the towerdoor after the horse had bolted wouldn’t help.
Instead, I turned my gaze, laden with resentment.
Clop— Clop—
The heavy sound of hooves struck the ground.
The unexpected noise startled me, but seeing its source startled me even more.
A man in a familiar black armor.
He spoke in a low voice.
“Paile.”
“Y-yes, sir.”
“Get down.”
The girl obediently dismounted from the black horse.
Whether out of consideration or to avoid interference, the black knight approached alone.
Clop— Clop—
The sound echoed like a reverberation.
Finally, he stopped abruptly, not far from where I stood.
Chandrafail dismounted slowly.
“Quellière.”
“······.”
A chilling voice.
My sunken gaze didn’t deter him as he continued to speak.
“Let’s end this.”
I pressed my throbbing forehead.
······What’s with this guy again?