TLed by NolepGuy
Chapter 215
Drops of blood form at the tip of the sword.
A red line was drawn on the Iron Fortress, which no one but Yuria had ever been able to wound, and fresh blood began to drip.
-Todoodook…
Having severed Olaf’s arm, I smiled as I looked at his face.
‘It touched.’
The gap that seemed impossible to close was finally bridged.
Was it because of compatibility?
Or was it because I had grown stronger?
A year ago, I wouldn’t have been able to even meet the gaze of someone of his caliber, and the feeling of withstanding his vigilance was more moving than I had expected.
Because it made me realize that I had finally become a strong force capable of holding up a pillar of the novel.
With a calm expression, I spoke to Olaf, who was staring at the severed part of his body that had fallen to the ground.
“Where has Your God, whom you called upon so fervently, gone?”
“…”
“Why don’t you cry out to Him?”
“What have you done to my body?”
“Ask Your God about that too.”
His severed right arm, along with the white linen robe.
Droplets of blood falling.
Even for Olaf, who had experienced countless battles, this wound felt different from usual.
‘It won’t regenerate…?’
A body blessed with immortality, capable of regenerating from any injury. That body, seemingly abandoned by God’s Grace, was rejecting the blessing.
It felt like something fundamental had been severed.
With a chilling sensation creeping up his back, Olaf lowered his head and muttered.
“This can’t be happening.”
“…”
“The only ones who could defy God’s Grace are heretics. Is it because my faith is lacking?”
Muttering to himself, Olaf shook his head. Hearing his words, “It won’t regenerate,” I smiled.
“Try praying a bit harder.”
In a calm voice, Olaf responded.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, heretic.”
“…”
“God will deliver judgment upon you.”
“God, huh…”
I let out a small laugh at his nonsense. I found it amusing to think about what his God might be doing, that He wouldn’t grant him mercy.
Recalling his past as described in the novel, I spoke with a mocking tone.
“Then why doesn’t the God you seek grant you salvation?”
“Do not blaspheme God. He has always answered my prayers and fulfilled my wishes….”
“Then why does He not answer the prayers of your beloved daughter?”
At the mention of a single word from my mouth, Olaf’s body began to freeze coldly.
Daughter.
It was a sensitive topic I shouldn’t have touched, but I had to use every weapon I could to break his mentality.
After all, he had tormented others too. There was no rule saying I couldn’t do the same. I burst into laughter.
“Puhaha… Isn’t it funny when you think about it? He answers your prayers but ignores the prayers of the daughter you love.”
Having read the novel, I knew Olaf’s past. I knew how selfish and pathetic the reasons were that drove him to join the heretics.
He was the king of the underbelly.
And at the same time, a father who lost his daughter at an early age.
It was his reverse scale. Mentioning his daughter was an untouchable subject for Olaf.
Clenching his fists and glaring at me as if he intended to kill me, I shrugged and spoke.
“What exactly is Your God doing that….”
“Shut up.”
“…He doesn’t answer prayers because they’re not from a human?”
With a sneer, I glanced at the monster screaming outside the window.
-Screeeech!
“Your God seems to be discriminating against races.”
“I’ll tear you limb from limb right now.”
“Go ahead and try.”
I gripped my sword and waited for him as he briskly walked toward me.
I bent my knees, preparing as he approached, ensuring I could inflict a critical wound before he could adapt to my presence.
Black ripples of dark mana danced from Olaf’s Axe.
As if proving that the position of Apostle wasn’t attained by skill alone, he exuded a fierce momentum as he approached.
I slowly inhaled, letting my body be carried by the gentle breeze. Then I closed my eyes and murmured softly.
“Dog…”
No, the name of the technique was too lame even in my opinion, so I decided not to say it. Letting out an empty laugh, I began to gather power deeply from my core.
I sheathed the sword.
A technique that pours all strength into the friction of a single moment.
‘Iai.’
As Olaf watched the sword, which he had thought of as a toothpick, approach his neck with the potential to sever it, his pupils began to tremble violently.
-Plod.
Taking a step back in fear of the sword, he began to reveal his terror, but the sword had already reached the tip of his chin, grazing his skin.
The sharpening sound of ‘seogeok’ accompanied the chilling sensation of the blade slicing through skin.
Though not as deep as the initial attack, it was clear that the sword strike hadn’t merely cut through empty space.
“You bastard!”
Olaf, deeply wounded, shouted the name of his silent God as he picked up the axe that had fallen to the ground.
“Answer my prayers!!!!”
“God is dead.”
“Shut up!”
Blocking Olaf’s pathetic axe strikes, I was certain.
I could win.
Olaf’s ability was reflection.
The power to reflect all damage directed at him.
Mikhail’s attacks.
Ruin’s attacks.
An impregnable fortress that absorbed and returned everything. He wasn’t a weak opponent. He might even be strong enough to fight Rowen on equal footing.
Only one thing.
-Tirbing severs all blessings of the target.
The extreme incompatibility with me was tipping the scales of victory heavily in my favor.
In the novel, the only thing that could damage Olaf was Yuria’s Divine Power. Tirbing, however, went to an even greater extreme, relentlessly exploiting Olaf’s weaknesses and tightening its grip on him.
No matter how great his magic or how overwhelming his dark magic was, it was useless if the foundation supporting it was severed.
Unfortunately, it couldn’t block the reflection. My abilities weren’t Divine Power. Tirbing’s best effort was merely creating a limit to Olaf’s monstrous regeneration.
Enduring the intense pain radiating from my shoulders and arms, I swung my sword. Regeneration was something I was confident in as well.
-Limit Break tests the limits of ‘Regeneration Lv. 4.’
-Limit Break tests the limits of ‘Rehabilitation’s Touch.’
Once again, my sword began to approach Olaf’s chest. Brimming with a bursting aura, I held my breath and charged to exploit the opening in Olaf’s broken stance.
“God is…”
Watching the approaching sword, Olaf thought to himself.
Was that bastard a monster incapable of feeling pain? As the sword wounded his body, leaving him with identical scars, the monster gritted his teeth and swung his sword relentlessly. Olaf found the monster’s will more terrifying than falling red lightning.
He needed to escape this situation where he couldn’t recover and was being pushed into a disadvantage. The current flow of the battle was heading against him.
Grabbing the handle of the axe moving at his fingertips, Olaf thought.
Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to incinerate everything here.
Olaf calmly organized his thoughts.
Fine, I admit it.
That The Man was more exceptional than I thought. I admit that I was deceived by the Serpent’s Lips, which spoke as if it knew everything, and let my guard down.
As someone holding the position of Apostle, I shouldn’t have shown such disgrace, but I even wiped away tears as I looked at the cold corpses of the Devotees who had gone before me.
“Lord.”
Olaf bowed his head and silently endured Ricardo’s attacks. It was the Shepherd’s duty to embrace the whiny complaints of a Lost Lamb.
“Lord…”
While praying to God, Olaf listened to Ricardo’s repentance.
And then,
he raised his hands to the heavens and prayed to God.
“Angel, come to me.”
As soon as Olaf’s prayer ended, the Monster, which had been enduring the Thunderstorm outside the window, began to move. Its writhing body shifted violently, and it opened its massive Mouth wide toward the Inn.
Grinding my teeth, I watched the Black Hand extend from the Angel’s Mouth.
“Damn it.”
-Kwa-ga-ga-ga-gaang!!
The savior came to rescue Olaf, who had been driven into a corner.
The Angel, spewing out a Black Hand shaped like a Baby’s Hand, began to envelop Olaf, ignoring the Thunderstorm pouring down.
“Father… Father…”
With a bizarre mechanical sound, the Angel embraced Olaf gently.
“Father… Father…”
I ground my teeth.
‘This shouldn’t be happening.’
Phase 2 shouldn’t have been triggered.
If it did, Emotional Manipulation wouldn’t work anymore.
I slowly launched a Sword Strike at Olaf, who was hiding his body within the Angel’s Mouth, and spoke.
“F*ck.”
Olaf was smiling.
*
I swung my sword all night long.
Not to defeat him,
but to survive.
I desperately swung my sword.
And then.
[Q. A name that can no longer be called.]
1. Rescue Yuria’s Father ‘James’. (1/1)
2. Survive against the Apostle of Mercy ‘Olaf’. (1/1)
[Quest completed.]
Dawn broke.
*
After the battle that had lasted until Dawn ended, Olivia stared blankly at the ruins of the Collapsed Inn.
“Ricardo…?”
Ricardo, bleeding and collapsed, was breathing heavily.
With blood-soaked hands trembling, he forced a Smile and spoke to Olivia.
“Young Lady, you shouldn’t be here.”
“…”
“I think I might be able to win now….”
-Kwaduduk.
From behind Olivia, Olaf began clearing away the debris. She saw him, shedding the appearance of an Old Man and revealing the form of a robust Young Man, his pristine body now exposed as he looked down at Olivia.
“Girl, do you believe in God?”
Olivia stared blankly at Olaf and asked.
“Is it because of him?”
“Young Lady.”
“Is Ricardo in pain because of him?”
Darkness began to settle in Olivia’s eyes. A cold and profound Darkness spread, encompassing only one target.
With a Cold Voice, Olivia looked at Olaf and spoke.
“Die.”
A massive Shadow from the sky began to obscure the Dawn’s Sun.