TSMT 55

Chapter 55

God’s Response

Something felt strange.

Akra furrowed her brows and stroked her chin. Ever since Diana Brien entered the prayer room, she had been lost in thought.

“This is truly strange…”

“What do you mean, my lady?” asked the priest accompanying her.

“I feel… a faintly sinister energy.”

“Sinister energy, you say…? Could it be the aura of an apostle?! We must strike it down at once—”

“No, that’s not it. No…”

Was it the young knight slave giving off a faint scent of blood? The energy wasn’t strong, only extremely weak. She kept looking at him over and over again, wondering if she had mistaken it.

But no matter how much she looked, there was nothing emanating from him. The energy was, without doubt, coming from Diana Brien.

Long ago in Taliah, they had brushed past each other. Back then, Akra had even admired Diana, claiming she seemed to possess the pure aura of the divine.

And yet now, mixed within that divine aura, Akra sensed a faint trace of corruption from Diana herself. It was so weak it made her doubt her own senses.

Why was it that the cursed slave was fine, but a devout believer like Diana had both pure and sinister auras within her?

Then—

“Ah?!”

Akra raised her head. A powerful divine presence had descended.

“What is it, my lady?”

“A mighty holiness has been granted!”

She was right! The other priests began to panic.

Why was this happening? And of all people, why did Akra—the one most sensitive to divine energy—have to be here? Diana cursed the coincidence. Drawing attention from the clergy now was dangerous.

“P-probably just a sacred tree blooming nearby,” Diana forced a smile, but Akra was not one to dismiss things so easily. Gazing at the noble believer blessed by revelation, Akra’s eyes grew wet with tears.

“The Lord has answered your prayer. O, holy God!”

The priests dropped to their knees and began worshiping. Diana stood there awkwardly. Then her eyes met Giscard’s.

For some reason she grew flustered and brushed the petals off her shoulders. Giscard stared blankly at them.

“Lady Brien, did the Lord grant you a revelation?”

Akra finally came to her senses and asked. What revelation? Diana thought of the prophecy she had received after her regression.

She considered speaking of it, but quickly changed her mind. How could she explain that this man standing before her would one day lead to Panborough’s ruin? Would they even believe her? And even if they did—what good would it do?

“I only asked whether the decision I was about to make was the right one.”

“…”

“It’s personal, so I can’t share details, but to summarize—I had to choose between the easy but wrong path, or the difficult, time-consuming, troublesome but righteous one. I asked if choosing the latter was truly correct.”

Akra looked at Diana. Those silver-gray eyes held no trace of falsehood. She was telling the truth. With a shy smile, Diana added:

“It seems this really is the right choice.”

Truly—what she was about to do must indeed be the righteous path. Relieved, she brushed the petals gently. They were soft and damp, and for the first time in ages, she was able to smile brightly.

But Diana overlooked the unnecessary consequences this would bring.

“Aaaah! No! You mustn’t leave here!”

Did everyone in this place begin their sentences with ‘Aaaah!’? Even Diana, usually patient, was growing sick of it.

She looked at the priests and knights encircling her. Seeing her displeasure, Akra tried to soothe her.

“Please, my lady. I beg you—stay in a safe place. To the southeast temple where you’re headed, a large swarm of monsters has appeared.”

“That place is far away.”

“You mustn’t go!”

Diana knew their true reason. They wanted to report her existence to the Holy Nation—to determine if she was truly a Saint. To them, even the slightest risk to a possible Saint was unacceptable.

“Have I committed some crime against the temple? You have no right to compel me.”

“My lady! True faith does not require throwing yourself into danger to temper it!” Akra cried in frustration.

I told you, I’m no Saint, Diana thought bitterly. Saints bore stigmas from the age of ten. She had none.

“I’ve made my decision.”

Her firm answer set the priests into alarm. They treated her as though she truly were a Saint already.

“My father granted permission for me to go. Lord Akra, you yourself know the place isn’t truly dangerous.”

Her tone was sharp. Her unwavering resolve made even Akra falter.

“Well… His Majesty the King and the Second Prince are there, so I suppose it wouldn’t be unsafe.”

What? Diana’s eyes widened. Philip is there?!

“I’ll depart immediately. Right now.”

“W-wait, my lady!”

Her face went pale. She had warned him to turn back—he had even agreed to return! Why was Philip there?!

This outbreak of monsters was unlike any before. Why ignore her warning? His life was in danger—Diana knew what would happen.

In her past life, the King of Panborough had suffered a crushing defeat during the monster subjugation in Drasel Duchy.

A disastrous defeat.

He had barely escaped with his life.

“Father, this way!”

Philip’s face was covered in scratches. He dragged his father by the hand, running for their lives. Behind them came the screams of knights being dragged away. The sound of bones crunching echoed.

“Aaaaargh!”

Elsewhere, the sickening sound of men being devoured alive rang out. Death was equal—it hunted everyone alike. All ran desperately, consumed only by the urge to survive. What little chivalry remained was spent shielding the King.

“Duke Drasel—if you survive this, I’ll never forgive you…!”

The invasion had erupted from Drasel Duchy, his queen’s homeland. Despite their bitter marriage, the King had to show goodwill to his father-in-law, Duke Drasel. But the duke had downplayed the threat.

Perhaps they had excuses. Still, their failure to scout properly had led to today’s catastrophe. Had Duke Drasel’s army fought properly even once, they could have gathered intelligence. The scale of the defeat might not have been so total.

Worse, not only had they downplayed the scale, they failed to identify the types of monsters. They had even promised to support the royal army from behind, only to withdraw.

Unlike the stalwart Count Kalcos, Duke Drasel was a coward. Monsters rarely appeared in his lands, so their knightly standards were pitiful. Rabble—if that word could be given a form, it was his army.

As though a gate to the demon realm had opened, bizarre and monstrous creatures surged forth—not after the duke’s retreating army, but after the King’s forces.

Even with discipline, sheer numbers overwhelmed them. It was no battle, only a hunt. Brave knights cut down many, yet still they were pursued.

If not for Philip, the King would already be dead.

Grinding his teeth in humiliation, the King thought, What disgrace…! Never have I suffered such shame. Did that idiot Drasel not even call for reinforcements?!

Blood boiled in his veins. At the same time, he wondered—what were these strange creatures?

The curse of Herya? the thought struck him.

“Father, look out!”

Philip swung his sword, cleaving the tongue of a monster that had lashed out to ensnare the King. Blood splattered. How could any creature have such a long tongue?

The King turned—

“Father!”

Behind them, nothing remained. No knights. Only a massive frog-like monster clutching its severed tongue, glaring with bulging eyes like something from the abyss.

And beyond it, more humanoid and beast-shaped horrors surged closer.

No escape.

This was death.

They were going to die…

Philip gritted his teeth, clutching his despairing father’s hand and running. Unlike the King, he wanted to live. He wanted to survive and see Diana again. But the lizard monsters closing in made him think his end was certain.

“Giscard!!”

A voice rang out. Was it the merciful God granting him the chance to see Diana once more? Why did he hear her voice—calling that slave’s name?

At that instant, a white-blazing sword cleaved the lizard monster’s neck.

It was like a beam of light. The King and Philip widened their eyes at the dark-haired youth who stood before them, sword glowing faintly with divine energy. Sword aura.

“Why… why him…!” Philip stammered.

Like a hero, the slave-knight Giscard stood before them, then charged at the monsters with blinding speed, cutting them down.

Though only one man, his presence alone stalled the horde.

He moved so swiftly Philip could barely follow with his eyes. Then Giscard leapt high, plunging his blade into the skull of the giant frog-monster still clutching its severed tongue. Blood sprayed like a fountain, but it no longer seemed grotesque.

The King and Philip could only stare in awe.

“Your Majesty, are you safe?!”

A woman’s voice rang out. The King and Philip turned, as though beholding salvation itself. And indeed, it was.

Clad in white, astride a pure white horse, the woman looked like a goddess. Behind her stood knights bearing the Brien crest, and holy knights as well.

Ah. They were saved.

Relief flooded them as they gazed upon their savior.