Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Chapter 34

“Finish every single one of them!”

From the moment they dared to mock the firstborn of the Saxon family for the second time, their chances of escaping alive vanished completely.

It was a matter of kill or be killed.

Fortunately, a considerable distance separated the two groups. In addition to this, they were at the top of a steep slope, which gave them control of the terrain, and they outnumbered the rival. The most important thing was that their combatants kept the perimeter completely surrounded.

Clinging to a minimal chance of salvation, Baron Parker roared loudly.

“They are only a handful, nothing more.”

Even if they mastered aura blades, their opponents had barely one blade per head. They lacked body protection, did not carry shields, nor did they have battle mounts to perform a cavalry charge.

In the opposite situation, his own contingent lined up warriors equipped with full armor and marksmen ready in combat formation.

It was a feasible contest. A dispute in which they would emerge victorious.

“The triumph is ours! This dispute belongs to us and we will win it!”

Exclaimed Baron Parker, infected by an overflowing enthusiasm.

“Marksmen, aim!”

From the top, the baron’s subordinates pulled the strings of their bows in perfect synchronization.

“Ignorant.”

Upon noticing the action, a warrior stationed next to Dale expressed with disdain in a low voice.

Sir Veil of Baskerville.

A combatant of distinguished rank who backed the Black Prince in that contest, destroying the left wing of Baron Parker’s battalions. A devout executor who swore absolute fidelity to the young successor of the Saxon family.

“Indicate the instructions, Prince Dale.”

Attending to Sir Veil’s request, Dale uttered his words.

“We already granted them clemency on one occasion.”

Ignoring the projectiles that aimed at them from all flanks.

“Showing benevolence again would be completely useless.”

His tone of voice did not convey the slightest feeling.

“Annihilate them all.”

“I accept your orders.”

The moment Dale finished speaking, a curtain of arrows descended towards them, and the five “Aura Knights” lowered their heads showing submission before the directives of their superior.

Flash!

While they performed the bow, a violent gust of sharp bursts was released.

A wall of steel that intercepted the projectiles coming from every corner. In front of the whirlwinds of the blades, the arrows lost all effectiveness.

And once the aerial attack concluded, the Night Raven Knights were already attacking at great speed.

They deployed toward the different flanks, throwing themselves on top of the hoodlums who had them surrounded.

Legends about a sword warrior capable of defeating countless rivals without company are usually classified as fantastic tales in this environment. However, it was not unusual for an experienced combatant to kill dozens of soldiers.

The dark blades waved and the screams permeated the environment.

“Ah, my limb! My arm!”

“P-please, have mercy… Ah!”

Before managing to conclude the plea, a jet of vital liquid spurted from the severed neck. With each movement of the blade, upper and lower limbs ended up detached, and the internal organs remained exposed due to the torn torsos.

“P-Prince! I beg you to show clemency!”

Baron Parker, having abandoned all will to fight, fell to his knees on the ground and exclaimed.

“I beg you! I will give you the totality of my possessions! I promise you submission forever! Please, please, save my life!”

He begged in total desperation.

“May the Twin Goddesses grant their pardon!”

The mercy of the Twin Goddesses. Dale remained silent. He limited himself to observing him with a cold look, while the wails continued to be heard in the surroundings.

Some shouted due to suffering, while others let out laughter prey to panic.

Turning his back on them, the “Black Prince” tilted his face slightly.

“What reason would I have to do that?”

A few days later.

After retreating from Baron Parker’s lands, they arrived at the next border of the central territory.

“Stop right there, shameless ones!”

Another group of assailants cut off the path of Dale and his warriors, who marched hidden under nomad clothing.

“Who dares to cross the domains of Baron Grandel without authorization?”

A noble criminal who collected tribute from those who walked through his extensions. After all, even assaults required strength to sustain themselves.

“Ah, damn it.”

Dale complained internally while contemplating the criminals who intimidated them with arrogance.

Because they camouflaged who they were, they were easy targets, but revealing their lineage did not represent a viable alternative either. Resigned, Dale inquired:

“Would you be willing to withdraw peacefully?”

“Ha, ha, you truly possess a great sense of humor!”

“Without a doubt, commander!”

“It is likely that you have already peed yourself in fear!”

Baron Grandel, protected by robust armor, let out a laugh together with his subordinates. Dale imitated his laughter, while his warriors belonging to the Saxon family waited calmly for his indications.

After sharing the moment of grace, Dale exclaimed.

“It turns out funny, doesn’t it?”

The weeks passed while they continued the course of the river arms that went down from the central region in the direction of the North Sea.

Throughout that period, they crossed the fiefdoms of multiple criminal nobles and outlaw warriors, and each crossroads left a trail of indelible deaths.

Subsequently, they advanced crossing the autonomous town of Amber, joining the “Amber Road” that connects the regions of the territory.

Their route was fixed towards the divine territory, the Pontifical States of Sixtina.

A distinguished successor provided with authority and rank, traveling modestly on foot and hiding his origin. This represented the consideration that the “Black Prince” planned to offer to the sacred institution through his journey of penitence, an act of redemption for that day when the Saxon family blades executed the paladins of divinity.

And as long as they demonstrated authenticity, the sacred institution would be forced to act in the same way.

Pontifical States, the Holy City of Pucelle.

In one of the dependencies of the Apostolic Palace, located in front of the Santa Magdalena esplanade.

“Cardinal Nikolai.”

One of the twelve religious leaders located at the summit of the Church of the Goddess, a specialist in white magic who dominated the sixth circle.

An ideal counterpart for the “Black Prince,” who entered the demarcation of divinity walking. That individual was Nikolai Machia, veteran of the White Tower and cardinal.

“I have knowledge that abundant blood ran in that confrontation, young heir.”

Dale of Saxon. Descendant and successor of the Black Duke, ruler of the Black Tower, who maintained an unbridgeable enmity with the White Tower.

Nikolai possessed clarity about the fame of the “Black Prince,” recognized as the greatest prodigy of the entire empire. In the same way, he understood the hidden motives behind the bad reputation and hostility linked to his denomination.

“The devotees of Santa Magdalena represented examples of spirituality, and their loss constitutes a highly tragic event.”

“My high performance in combat caused deaths that could have been avoided.”

“Too efficient at taking lives, that is the inconvenience.”

“……”

A rival who presented the worst possible affinity with the sacred institution in every aspect.

“I also deeply regret the outcome of the dispute between the white and black factions.”

Despite this, that same adversary made a respectful bow in front of him.

An aristocratic successor of the northern lands, reputed as the infertile soil for the spirituality of divinity, and one of the nobles of highest hierarchy within the empire.

“Could he be truly experiencing this hard journey with the purpose of redeeming himself?”

Nikolai questioned in his mind.

No matter how outstanding his skill might be, he was still an eleven-year-old child. There was the option that the disasters of the armed conflict had generated remorse.

Just as it happened to certain young heirs of the nobility who sought comfort in divinity, devoid of the capacity to assimilate the psychological sequelae of war.

“Under that perspective, it represents a favorable change in the situation.”

Remorse, or moral duty towards the sacred, constitutes a motor of great relevance in the spiritual sphere.

“Certainly, your hostility causes me worry, young heir.”

In this way, Cardinal Nikolai continued showing a kind and compassionate gesture.

“However, the forgiveness of divinity remains accessible to anyone, young heir.”

“……”

“There is no fault in this plane that cannot be purified.”

It is possible to clean it. It is possible to grant forgiveness. Just when Cardinal Nikolai was preparing to continue pronouncing his subtle promises.

“Did you assure that there is no fault in this plane that cannot be purified?”

“Effectively, that is so.”

Nikolai nodded his head and Dale proceeded to speak.

—In that case, for what reason did you hand over the domains of divinity to the empire?

He betrayed his own nation. For an instant, Cardinal Nikolai’s countenance lost all color.

“At the moment when the previous pontiff, who manifested his rejection of the annexation agreement with the empire, was executed…”

Dale continued with his discourse, without flinching in the slightest. He exposed a hidden reality that few individuals understood in the entire territory.

“You were present at that site, Eminence.”

Few moments before signing the mandatory annexation pact between the empire and the Pontifical State. The previous pontiff, ruler of the Pontifical State and head of the White Tower, resisted until his last moments. Due to this, he was neutralized by the subordinate of the empire, the combatant coming from another dimension.

Everything supported by the disloyalty of the twelve cardinals, listing among them Nikolai.

“Did divinity grant forgiveness before the act of betraying your own homeland, Your Eminence?”

“How did you manage to find out about what happened on that day…?”

The specialist in white magic of the sixth circle, noticing the circumstances, found himself unable to hide his disturbance and released his magic energy of pure light. Despite this, before the flashes of clarity that rotated with force, Dale’s attitude remained unalterable.

He did not show concern about not counting on the immediate protection of the warriors of the Saxon family.

“Do you consider that ending the life of a simple commissioner of the duchy would work as an effective method of concealment?”

It was a deception.

The Duke of Saxony did not have the slightest idea regarding the facts that occurred at this site. However, Cardinal Nikolai lacked tools to verify the authenticity of the information.

Proof of this was that the flashes of clarity that rotated ended up extinguishing themselves after multiple failed attempts.

“Is this truly the behavior of an eleven-year-old child?”

It was incredible to my own eyes.

The reputation of the Black Prince, described by the villagers through whispers, far surpassed my most extreme assumptions.

Even denominations such as the greatest prodigy of the Empire or the star child of the ducal lineage gave the impression of falling short and being ridiculous.

“What are your pretensions?”

“The duchy has not presented itself with the purpose of unveiling the mysteries of the sacred institution.”

Cardinal Nikolai showed indecision before expressing himself, and Dale took the word, manifesting himself in the capacity of commissioner of the Duke of Saxony.

“On the contrary, we are here to establish the pact of maintaining reserve around the events of that day.”

He camouflaged his intentions under the wishes of the mysterious Black Duke.

“The retribution that the Saxon family demands constitutes barely a minor cost in exchange for ensuring our reserve.”

The cost of the reserve. Nothing on this plane is granted without a benefit in between.

“There is a hidden deposit located in the depths of the Apostolic Palace, a site in which the forbidden tomes of the sacred institution remain guarded, is that not true?”

“…!”

Faced with Dale’s declaration, Cardinal Nikolai’s factions reflected again a gesture of bewilderment.

A location so restricted that only a very select group within the sacred organization dominated the knowledge of its location.

“It is impossible that you intend to refer to…!”

“Grant me direct entry to the ‘Library of Hell’.”

The Library of Hell. That corresponded to the nickname given to the deepest sublevel located below the Apostolic Palace, a space where the sacred institution guarded the restricted magic writings that it confiscated in the past.

The Book of the Black Goat.

A writing drafted by a predecessor belonging to the Saxon family, classified as the most terrifying magic work that is known, was kept in that site without any activity.

Chapter 34