Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Chapter 37

“Victory is mine, I can do it!”

The sacred chant vibrated with force, infusing a deep feeling of glory and optimism into Nikolai’s chest.

The sacred entities known as the “Battlefield Angels,” unfolding their six winged limbs and wielding swords wrapped in fire, charged at full speed. Backed by the incantations of the hymn coming from the White Tower, the ecclesiastical warriors charged, manifesting a vigor that seemed to descend from the celestial heights. Faced with the imminence of this relentless frontal attack, Dale reacted immediately by stretching out his limb.

“Shadow Bullet.”

Following the dark trail projected by his cloak as it fluttered, a tempest of projectiles formed of pure darkness fell from the sky. Despite this, the winged creatures dodged the aerial offensive with dexterity and resumed their pursuit of Dale, moving at astonishing speed.

“My angels are relentless, just as I anticipated!”

No matter how gifted the firstborn of the prestigious Saxon family turned out to be, deep down he remained a third-circle mystic devoid of any real combat background.

Likewise, no matter how terrifying the power of the “Book of the Black Goat” might be considered, a mere apprentice of that level was incapable of squeezing out the totality of its hidden faculties.

“Glorified be…!”

The mystical melody spread intensely, staining that desolate environment with resplendent flashes.

“Hallelujah!”

“… How annoying.”

And responding directly to the stanzas intoned by Cardinal Nikolai.

“Silence…”

The silent gloom broke the mutism.

“Shut up, shut up at once!”

To the ears of Dale, who was exclaiming in that way was the young girl carrying the black goat horns.

“■■■■──!”

However, from the perspective of Nikolai and his celestial servants, that manifested as a deformed beast emitting a hideous shriek.

An abominable presence coming from an alien dimension, structured by an infinity of vermiform appendages.

Slash!

From beneath the girl’s clothing, a dense agglomeration of tentacles emerged violently, heading directly toward the sacred beings who moments before had evaded Dale’s Shadow Bullets.

“…!”

The divine entities shook their ignited weapons, releasing blessed flames intended to char the detractors of divinity. However, when it seemed that those appendages would be sliced without the slightest difficulty, a dark-toned hematic substance gushed out from the cuts, right in front of the winged warriors.

That fluid, thick as tar and dark as night, bore no relation to common blood; it splashed the figures of the angels with the clear intention of devouring them completely.

“… But what does this mean!?”

Suddenly.

The creatures’ flapping stopped completely. It was not a physical collapse.

In the midst of absolute mutism, the celestial beings pivoted in the air, now facing directly toward Cardinal Nikolai, whom they had sworn to protect.

“P-praised…”

“G-g-glorified be…”

Their babbling denoted unmistakable insanity. Upon realizing the scene, horror froze Cardinal Nikolai’s blood.

The defenders of the deity, supposedly unbeatable thanks to the influence of the mystical aria…

The creatures’ winged limbs began to deform in an aberrant manner, as if a multitude of larvae were writhing under their tissue. From their faces erupted black secretions resembling soot, composing a terrifying scene.

“Ah…”

Nikolai’s illusions crumbled completely. He no longer contemplated the divine messengers under the orders of the queen of the heavens.

In their place stood dark angels.

They shed tears stained with mourning and blood, their anatomies widened monstrously, furrowed by venous conduits similar to caterpillars, and their feathers had corrupted until they became unrecognizable.

Slash!

Once again, the dark limbs attacked the former servants of light.

Crash!

Shattering joints, tearing off withered plumage, breaking metallic protections, and crushing skulls; the tentacles penetrated their cranial cavities to take deep roots. As if a perverse deity were amusing itself by corrupting its own works, Nikolai’s custodians, the greatest glory of the Sixtine Church, were exterminated ruthlessly.

Faced with such a panorama, a sixth-circle luminous sorcerer had no option but to tremble, gripped by panic.

“Regarding the events occurring in the domains of the abyss.”

The self-proclaimed “Black Prince,” who had kept his composure, finally broke the silence while leaving behind the shredded remains of the creatures.

“Those who sign the pact are exempt from all responsibility.”

The space separating Dale from Nikolai began to shrink drastically.

“A-ah…”

Nikolai, setting aside completely the fact that he had an infant of barely eleven years in front of him, shuddered with a dread so sharp that it threatened to deprive him of consciousness.

That prodigy of the ducal lineage, the direct descendant of the Black Duke, considered the most brilliant mind in the entire empire.

No.

The designation of “Black Prince” did not constitute a mere honorific title.

It was the lineage of a demonic being.

“The detractor of divinity…”

A seed of perversion born from the shadows projected by the twin deities.

“Is it your desire to preserve your existence?”

inquired Dale, stationed next to the aberrant agglomeration of dark appendages and the girl adorned with caprine horns.

“P-please, mercy…”

Cardinal Nikolai implored desperately for his continuation.

“It is likely that I will decide to grant you your life.”

Dale continued.

“What will be your compensation for it?”

“What are you saying…?”

replied Nikolai, whose body continued to be shaken by fear. Immediately afterward, he began to frenetically enumerate every imaginable benefit: his investiture, his accumulated riches, the influence of the religious institution under his command, and every resource within his reach in his capacity as a sixth-circle white cleric and high prelate. He offered incessantly in an agonizing attempt to save himself.

“It seems acceptable to me.”

“What part specifically?”

questioned Nikolai, still gripped by fear.

“Absolutely everything you possess.”

sentenced Dale.

“That cannot be possible…!”

Upon unraveling the background of that response, Nikolai’s features hardened. An absolute desolation, which caused a suffocating oppression in his chest, consumed him completely. Dale’s declaration entailed a single outcome.

“Everything indicates that it corresponds to stipulate the terms of a new agreement.”

Total submission imposed through a Geass, an unbreakable oath.

Having reached this point, Nikolai lacked any escape route. Even if it meant handing over his own spiritual essence to an evil entity, there were no viable alternatives.

“I enjoyed spending time by your side very much!”

The little girl let out a laugh charged with joy, as if she were saying goodbye with regret after concluding a fun distraction.

“I feel a great appreciation for this environment of yours, older brother.”

While countless appendages stirred beneath the folds of her clothing, they remained in that space dominated by low temperatures and gloom, Dale’s mental landscape.

“Therefore, I will wait patiently in this place.”

Dale drew a subtle smile, ignoring the stinging pain inside him, caused by the massive exhaustion of his mystical reserves.

A forbidden text is never limited to the physical structure of a volume, as it represents the receptacle of a current of abstract thought. Consequently, the “Book of the Black Goat” intertwined intimately with Dale’s internal space, taking root in his own being through those dark appendages.

“Does my presence not fill you with fear, older brother?”

she wondered while they were in that icy steppe.

“I harbor no fear whatsoever.”

“Do you really mean that?”

The young girl’s features reflected relief at his statements.

“Will we have the opportunity to entertain ourselves again in this way?”

she questioned, maintaining a cheerful countenance but showing a slight nuance of unease.

“Rest assured that we will meet again.”

Dale nodded firmly, provoking an expression of sincere innocence on the little girl’s face.

“Great, that makes me very happy!”

Recalling how he had subjugated a sixth-circle white cleric of the stature of Cardinal Nikolai, it was evident that his nature entailed too many dangers to allow it to manifest without restrictions. Furthermore, Dale, evaluating the situation with rigor, still lacked the mastery indispensable to completely subdue the faculties of the “Book of the Black Goat.”

That dark inheritance rooted in the Saxon lineage constituted the ideal receptacle to harbor the doctrine devised by the “Immortal Duke Frederick.”

Despite his exceptional gifts, not even the status of firstborn of the Black Duke was enough to fully dominate such a forbidden plane.

“Furthermore, it does not represent a force of which one should boast lightly.”

It did not constitute a faculty to be used imprudently, but a definitive resource that required being kept hidden as a last option.

In a way, the situation was equivalent to confining it to the depths of the conceptual abyss. It is feasible that the girl understood this aspect to perfection.

“You have my word.”

However, this did not mark the end of their bond.

“It will not be long before we share another moment of fun.”

“Agreed, I will remain waiting!”

The girl smiled warmly and Dale reciprocated with an affirmative nod, leaving her in the solitude of that environment marked by cold and isolation.

After the disturbances that arose in the domains of the abyss calmed down, the firstborn of the Saxon house obtained an absolute exoneration formalized under the rubric of Cardinal Nikolai.

Likewise, as a demonstration of the renewed diplomatic bond between the Saxon lineage and the religious institution, he was entertained through an unprecedented ceremonial protocol organized by the latter.

During the journey back to the duchy’s domains, Dale and his retinue of warriors completely dispensed with their religious pilgrim garments.

Because of this, no opponent dared to hinder the advance of the “Black Prince” or the blades belonging to the Saxon family who marched under his directives.

A few months passed since those events.

A flash of dark hue began to dance around the edge of the weapon. Using the combat styles transmitted by the North Raven Knights as a base, the colossal blade of that heavy sword ended up completely covered.

It consisted of projecting the purified internal energy of the organism toward the exterior, consolidating it onto the metal in the form of cutting force. Those warriors capable of consolidating such a technique received the distinction of “Aura Knights.”

Brandishing the dark aura steel, a characteristic emblem of the Saxon house, the experienced combatant “Charlotte” looked up.

“The process has concluded.”

Faced with the forcefulness of her words, Sir Helmut Blackbear, who served as Charlotte’s instructor, remained mute due to astonishment. The soldiers of the Saxon house who witnessed the act shared the same stupefaction.

Dale did not figure as the only individual with outsized potential who progressed by leaps and bounds.

“Developing such a polished manifestation of aura while being so young!”

Immediately afterward.

“Charlotte of Orhart.”

The only one who maintained an imperturbable composure, the firstborn of the Saxon dynasty, Dale, intervened on the scene.

“Dale of Saxon asks you this.”

Positioning himself in front of Charlotte, who had just buried the dark steel of the Saxon house into the surface of the terrain, Dale addressed her with solemnity.

“By the reputation of your commander and your lineage, by your own dignity and for every cause you are called to safeguard…”

He lightly brushed Charlotte’s shoulder using the back of the regulation sword he carried in his hands.

“Do you commit to wielding your weapon while remaining faithful to the precepts of the military order?”

“I ratify it under oath,” replied Charlotte, bowing her head in a sign of respect.

“Will you hold your steel for the purpose of protecting the unprotected and subduing the transgressors, without yielding to particular ambitions?”

“I ratify it under oath.”

“… May the authentic distinction of a warrior guide each of your movements,” sentenced Dale.

“Under the authority of Saxon, I formally confer upon you the title of ‘Sir Charlotte’, becoming my legitimate knight.”

It was the official act by means of which Charlotte was invested. Despite being an austere commemoration, witnessed only by a few members of the Night Raven Knights, it constituted the highest recognition that both Dale and the Duke of Saxon himself could grant her given the current circumstances.

Due to this, Charlotte showed a quiet expression of happiness, deeply moved by finally transforming into the defensive bulwark destined to watch over the security of “her lord.”

Once the investiture was concluded, both gathered in the vicinity of the patio corresponding to the Saxon fortress.

“Do you maintain the certainty that this is the path you wish to take?” inquired Dale.

Charlotte, now consolidated as his official defender, nodded without a hint of hesitation.

“It is my will to serve as the combat instrument of the Saxon dynasty.”

Dale showed a moment of doubt when weighing the rigid moral codes that guided the warriors of the northern region, but Charlotte’s resolution was revealed to be unbreakable.

“It was precisely this path of arms that led me to become the person I am today.”

For this reason, she chose to assimilate the doctrines of the Night Raven Knight, becoming accustomed to wielding the colossal sword of the Saxon house to the detriment of light rapiers. Under the tutelage of the mythical Helmut Blackbear, cataloged as one of the Seven Swords of the Continent, she assimilated with astonishing speed the handling of the Saxon dark steel and its corresponding flow of jet-black aura.

“I never contemplated the possibility of joining the order in this way,” stated Charlotte, exhibiting a renewed countenance.

“I thank you, Dale.”

An expression charged with shyness and youthful freshness.

“I owe all this progress to your intervention.”

Upon contemplating her attitude, Dale admitted internally to having underestimated Charlotte’s innate capabilities.

“… We have reports pointing to a massive concentration of orc hosts stationed on the border margins of the domains controlled by the Demon King,” communicated Dale, reflecting an unbreakable determination in his tone.

“Everything points to the dreaded ‘Orc Warlord’ leading the contingent directly.”

“…!”

“My progenitor is organizing the duchy’s battalions together with the landowners of the northern lands, and I will be part of the armed mobilization,” Dale continued.

“During that campaign, I require you to remain by my side.”

“…”

“In the capacity of my knight.”

That unexpected interpellation momentarily deprived Charlotte of breath. Even having consolidated her aptitudes to the level of an “Aura Knight,” she continued to be a young girl of only eleven years.

“Agreed, I accept the commission,” she nodded immediately.

The steel of a warrior is deployed according to the provisions of their commander, and their leader required her services on the battlefield.

Chapter 37