Chapter 813

Chapter 813
Paaaaaaaaa……
From the heart of the fractured void, the Adversary kept his gaze locked onto Julien.
‘…Peculiar.’
In this brief span of time, Julien had reached a noticeably higher level of power.
One could almost claim he had stepped over the threshold of wielding Will Power.
While still far from being a true peer to the Adversary, the mere fact that he had crossed into a new stage was deeply meaningful.
Yet, why did the evolution feel so forced?
It was as though the fabric of reality itself had compelled him to grow stronger.
‘…Is it because of me?’
The more powerful he became, the more the Saintess’s light increased. And as her radiance surged, his own dark strength would follow suit.
This was the predetermined path, the mutual curse of two beings destined to clash eternally, and the heavy toll of their station.
The Adversary had come here intending to break that cycle. He had felt certain that the Saintess’s life was within his reach.
But it seemed Julien had wedged himself into the very cracks of that destiny.
That was not the only anomaly.
‘…I should have been able to slaughter them.’
The High Chief of the elves, the King of the dwarves, the peak experts of the Empire, and the Julien Mercenary Corps—they were all gathered in one spot.
Had he eliminated them here, the scales of the conflict would have tipped irrevocably toward the Salvation Order.
But then, the dragon had emerged—at a moment he could never have anticipated.
If that had been the only factor, he might have maintained control. But they had shattered the veil of shadows and summoned the Saintess’s miracle.
‘…What is this?’
They had managed to navigate the catastrophe with remarkable prowess. It was talent deserving of respect.
But was it actually feasible for sheer capability to yield such a conclusion?
The dragon’s abrupt arrival, the inexhaustible grit of Astion and the Julien Mercenary Corps, the reinforcements from the elven High Chief and the Dwarf King…
Did it not appear as if every piece had been meticulously arranged for this specific engagement?
‘…Coincidence.’
He had reacted to the circumstances, and they had done the same.
The prowess of the Julien Mercenary Corps was forged through their own struggles, not by some stroke of luck.
He had not planned for this specific battle; they hadn’t either.
Every variable had simply converged by accident to produce this result.
That was the logical conclusion. The natural one.
And yet…
Why was it…
Regardless of his actions…
Regardless of the strategies he employed…
Why did he feel such a crushing certainty that the Saintess could not have perished here?
Why did it feel as though he had been swept into a monumental celestial tide that even the gods could not oversee?
As if the conclusion had been written before the start.
‘…What is happening?’
What force had orchestrated this?
The Adversary searched his mind but found no resolution. He began to look back through the sequence of the past.
‘…Where did the path deviate?’
Was it the moment he first crossed paths with the Julien Mercenary Corps?
Was it when he first attempted to strike down the Saintess?
Or was it when he decided to commit everything to this specific battlefield?
‘…No.’
Those were merely ripples on the surface, far too weak to shift the great tide.
No matter how far back he analyzed, he could not identify the root of his defeat. No theory felt correct.
The answer had to exist somewhere! And yet…
Paaaak!
The fractured shadows surged, swirling together and consolidating into a single mass.
Despite Julien striking with every ounce of his spirit, he had not managed to deal a killing blow.
Kwaaang!
The Adversary thrust his palm forward, sending Julien flying backward.
Watching him, the Adversary finally spoke.
“…It appears our struggle will be a protracted one.”
It wasn’t a simple thought, but an absolute revelation.
In that moment of clarity, the Adversary felt the heavy iron links of fate that constrained him.
Those chains were not only wrapped around him, but also around the Saintess, and Julien who stood before him.
It was as if they had been tethered together since the birth of time, inescapable and timeless.
‘Ah… I see. I am still a prisoner.’
The Adversary let out a smile within the gloom.
He did not know where this path would eventually lead.
But he understood that when the hour arrived, these bindings would shatter.
And when that day came…
He would finally grasp true autonomy and break free from the hand of fate.
Paaaak!
His form shattered into a cloud of darkness and ascended toward the clouds.
“You won’t escape!”
The dragon’s cry, thick with rage, made the ground tremble.
A torrent of flames and a myriad of spells tore through the air in pursuit of the Adversary.
Iralniel unleashed the Elven Serenade toward him as well. Superhumans with long-range skills and various sorcerers threw everything they had.
Kwaang! Kwaang! Kwaang!
The Adversary absorbed every impact directly.
Each strike caused the dark aura to vibrate violently. His essence was fading fast.
Yet he remained focused on a calm, measured retreat.
“My fate has not yet permitted me to die…”
He was certain he would not fall here.
And miraculously, reality aligned perfectly with his vision.
“You coward!”
The dragon hissed, unfurling its wings to give chase.
The Adversary was now significantly more fragile than when the fight began. He had been seared by Divine Power and worn down by a relentless barrage.
This was the window of opportunity. They could not let it pass.
But the dragon found itself unable to continue.
“Ghhhk…”
Kuuuung!
With a cry of agony, the dragon crashed back to the earth.
The lingering traces of darkness the Adversary had planted inside it were still thrashing, eating away at its vitals.
Ultimately, the dragon had to cease the pursuit and dedicate its remaining strength to purging the blight.
The other superhumans faced a similar plight. They had barely managed to cling to life.
Not a single soul had the energy left to hunt the Adversary. They didn’t even have the resolve.
One by one, they slumped to the dirt. In this moment, surviving the lingering shadow was more vital than the chase.
A heavy quiet briefly settled over the fields.
Everyone struggled for air, shivering, unable to fully process that they were still alive.
Then, finally, the roar of the united forces shook the heavens.
“Woooooooaaaah!”
“We… we actually won!”
“The Adversary is fleeing!”
Cries of victory, sounding like desperate prayers, filled the air.
All across the field, people fell into each other’s arms. Even elves and dwarves, who rarely found common ground, held one another with tears rolling down their cheeks.
The relief was like being pulled from the jaws of hell.
The wonder was like returning from the very edge of the void.
In this instant, every heart beat with the same feeling.
And the figure who had turned the tide was—
“The Saintess guided us!”
“Praise the Goddess! Bless the Saintess!”
“The Saintess is our only light!”
The thunderous cheers seemed to have no end.
Infantry, knights, sorcerers—even the high-ranking lords—all turned their faces up and shouted for the Saintess.
Duke Stauffen, the leader of the Imperial forces, wiped the sweat from his brow.
After watching the celebrating army for a moment, he walked toward the cardinals stationed at the rear.
He looked directly at Cardinal Porisco.
“You have to admit it now.”
“Th-that is…”
“Everyone witnessed the truth with their own eyes: the Pope was the architect of this malice. No justification or lie can hide that fact.”
“……”
“The struggle against the Demonic Realm requires a figurehead. Until this moment, only the Pope could fill that void. Now that he is gone, the Saintess must take his place.”
“……”
The cardinals looked hesitant, but Duke Stauffen did not back down.
“And the task of protecting the Saintess will belong to the Julien Mercenary Corps.”
“……”
“It is the only way forward. Only then do we have a chance to win.”
Having said his piece, Duke Stauffen turned away. He understood exactly what was required to survive this war.
Porisco and the other high-ranking priests were left in stunned silence.
The time for church politics or deception had passed. If they dared to reject the Saintess, the masses would revolt.
Now that the Pope’s demonic nature was public knowledge, who would be foolish enough to question the Saintess’s miracle?
“A common priest taking the seat of the Saintess…”
“What has the world come to…?”
“Truly, the end of days…”
The cardinals were in shock, unable to grasp the shifting reality. It felt surreal.
But the Pope’s treachery was a fact. It could not be explained away or forgiven.
Finally, the cardinals and high priests began to follow in Duke Stauffen’s wake.
Paaaaaah…
The celestial light falling from above still bathed Deneb.
It radiated outward, washing the despair-ridden battlefield in a sacred glow.
Deneb stood motionless, her eyes shut within the brilliance.
She projected an aura and a sense of majesty that made everyone hesitate to draw near.
Step, step, step.
As Duke Stauffen walked toward her, the shouting slowly died down.
Thousands of eyes followed his every movement.
Step.
When Duke Stauffen finally stood before her, a heavy, expectant silence gripped the area.
By the laws of status, Deneb should have been the one to show deference.
In the presence of an Imperial Duke, even a cardinal would usually bow their head.
But the world had changed.
Duke Stauffen slowly dropped to one knee before Deneb, bowing his head low.
Plunging his blade into the earth in front of him, he spoke:
“I shall walk the path the Saintess reveals. Just as your light shines upon this world, our lives and our spirits shall be surrendered to that radiance. O Saintess, from this day forward, we are your subjects and your blade.”
Following his lead, the cardinals and high priests also threw themselves down, chanting:
“We shall follow the Saintess as our beacon.”
That wave of devotion quickly engulfed the entire allied host.
From the common infantry to the high nobility, from the elves to the dwarves—there were no exceptions. Everyone knelt.
A massive roar vibrated through the air and the earth.
“We shall follow the Saintess as our beacon!”
Deneb slowly opened her eyes.
Bathed in that heavenly shimmer, she reached her arms out.
Her soft voice reached the ears of every person present.
“May the grace of the Goddess… remain with you all.”
Paaaaaah…
A brilliant light exploded outward, washing over everything.
It touched every head in the crowd, soothed their agony, and sowed the seeds of a new hope.
On that day, Deneb was recognized by all, without a shadow of a doubt, as the Saintess of humanity.

—

The Adversary traveled for a long duration.
He did not know the path, but he knew exactly where he was going.
The streak of black energy cutting through the sky, visible only to him, served as his compass.
The thick shroud of shadows that had once hidden him was gone.
However, he still bore the appearance of the Pope—clothed in magnificent vestments and sparkling jewels, carrying every emblem of the office he once held.
The only difference was that his hair had turned the color of midnight.
After walking for a while, the Adversary came to a stop.
“Hm…”
Figures wrapped in dark robes began to appear around him one by one.
He knew who they were instantly. They were the clergy of the Salvation Order.
Their numbers were few, as they were not yet within the Demonic Realm, but each one possessed a staggering presence just by being in this world.
Simultaneously, they all dropped to their knees, pressing their foreheads to the ground.
Their voices rose in a perfectly synchronized chorus that echoed across the land.
“O King of Salvation, the one who shall bring the world’s conclusion and its rebirth. We bow before Your feet and pledge our lives to You.”
The Adversary gave a small smile at the sight.
“Finally, I have reached the place where I belong.”
At that moment, the shadow beneath him grew longer and darker.
It was time to act, just as the laws of fate required.