Chapter 79

Chapter 79

Chapter 79

Chapter 79

— … The moment the Goddess’s domain is established in the region of Britannia draws near.

This missive bore the signature of Cardinal Nikolai, a revered veteran belonging to the White Tower. Despite this, it was nothing more than an elaborate forgery orchestrated by Dale with the goal of manipulating Charles VII.

From the beginning, there never existed any pact between the White Tower and the Maiden of the Sacred.

In the event that Charles showed distrust toward the writing, Dale was fully prepared to deliver Nikolai’s head as ratification of the plot.

Sentencing a high dignitary and cardinal of the White Tower to death represented an action of extreme gravity. Such an act demanded a pretext of colossal weight, such as committing treason against the fatherland in front of the Empire or allying clandestinely with the adversaries.

“Fortunately, it was not necessary to reach that extreme instance in which I would require employing such a safeguard.”

A truly propitious outcome for those involved.

Nikolai, subjugated under the influence of the geas of total submission, operated as Dale’s personal puppet embedded in the core of the Church of the Sistine Goddess. The benefit he provided was too high to get rid of him prematurely.

He still retained multiple purposes to execute as long as he continued to breathe.

“Are you talking about a ceasefire?”

“That is correct.”

Listening to Charles’s proposal, the Holy Maiden Aurelia was completely stunned.

“The forces of the Empire will never cease their march until they completely destroy Britannia!”

“Have they not already suffered enough losses?”

Charles VII replied using a tone of voice that sought to calm the impetuosity of a child.

“Too many compatriots of the territory have already shed their own blood.”

“…”

“Our deity, the Sistine Goddess, always promulgates clemency and mercy…”

Showing evident weariness regarding the war conflict.

“Why should we contradict the Goddess’s designs by persisting in this bloody conflict?”

“The Empire is the only one responsible for this situation.”

“And, despite that, at this moment they propose conciliation.”

Concord.

“The Empire’s military leader has formulated a proposal for an ‘indefinite truce,’ formally committing to evacuate their regiments within a few weeks.”

“Do you place your vote of confidence in the Empire’s promises?”

“I only yearn for the cessation of hostilities.”

“Concord…”

Aurelia made an attempt to reply.

“Institutionally, our territory will give the green light to the ‘truce pact’ offered by the Empire, bringing armed confrontations to an end.”

However, Charles interrupted her immediately, closing off any possibility of reply.

“The war confrontation has concluded; from this moment a period of harmony begins.”

Charles VII’s conviction regarding the cessation of the conflict proved unwavering.

He abandoned himself completely to earthly pleasures and opulence, taking refuge in the lap of courtesans while tasting liquor.

In order to consolidate that state of tranquility, it was essential to close that bloody war.

A few days later, the imperial faction began the logistical work of withdrawal, a process that extended over several weeks.

Notifications began to be received indicating that certain combatants were deserting the ranks and beginning looting within the borders of Britannia.

Individuals lagging behind from the Empire’s hosts who perpetrated robberies and arson throughout various latitudes of the kingdom, constituting authentic groups of criminals.

The crown reacted by sending small assault contingents oriented to quickly neutralize these looters. It fell to the Holy Maiden Aurelia to assume command of these containment regiments, wielding her weapon in favor of the nation’s security.

After a few weeks had passed, a group of fewer than 20,000 imperial combatants undertook the embarkation of withdrawal departing from the coastal town of Dover.

Just as Charles VII had anticipated, everything indicated that times of quiet were approaching.

Parallel to this, with the purpose of eradicating the remaining pockets of the Empire that still remained in the territory, the Holy Maiden persisted in commanding small squads on rapid deployment missions.

A couple of weeks later.

An alarm was spread that a redoubt of imperial deserters had perpetrated an attack against one of the strategic positions located next to the Loire River, the city of Orleans. Immediately, the Holy Maiden mobilized her rapid intervention squad again.

And at the precise moment that Aurelia undertook the march out of the royal seat of Reims, Archbishop Thomas Becket was placed under custody by direct order of Charles VII.

Under the charge of high treason.

Using as an incriminating element that “secret letter from the White Tower” that Dale of Saxony had at the time placed in Charles’s hands.

A short time later.

When the Holy Maiden Aurelia together with her men-at-arms made their entry into Orleans, having neutralized the imperial renegades who kept the town under siege and declaring victory in combat.

“…”

Aurelia experienced an indecipherable inner unease, holding her breath at the tension in the environment. That silent mysticism that dominated the periphery resembled walking through an uninhabited and mournful landscape.

“I offer you a welcome.”

And breaking that calm, a vocal tone emerged that was extremely familiar to her. An echo impossible to erase from her memory.

The strategist of the Empire, who theoretically should have been sailing back toward the domains of the Empire far from Britannia, made an appearance at the site.

“… Lord Dale.”

That very individual known as the “Black Prince,” who in the past had held an intense combat against the Holy Maiden until remaining on equal footing.

Protected by an immense number of elite imperial combatants stationed behind him.

The First Sword of the Continent… the Sacred Swordsman escorted by the Knights of Saint Magdalena.

The veteran regent of the Red Tower, the crimson sorceress assigned to the seventh circle “Lady Scarlet” in the company of the Purifying Unit.

Added to the White Sorcerers under the direction of Cardinal Nikolai of the White Tower.

The pinnacle of the Empire’s military forces had gathered with the sole purpose of confronting a “rival-less splendor.”

“King Charles has sold you out, Lady Aurelia.”

Upon hearing the statements issued by Dale, the Holy Maiden Aurelia sketched a gesture loaded with disillusionment.

“And at these precise moments, it is highly feasible that Archbishop Thomas is being processed under charges of felony in the city of Reims.”

“…!”

Archbishop Thomas. Who was one of the prominent figures of the White Tower and a white sorcerer positioned in the seventh circle. Such a revelation caused her deep dismay. To contemplate how the most formidable defensive pillars of the nation, equivalent to the vital sustenance of the territory, were vanishing so fruitlessly.

“I manifested it to you previously, is it that you have already forgotten?”

Dale approached the Sacred Maiden verbally, exhibiting a grimace of irony.

“You should have reflected with greater depth on it, Lady Aurelia.”

The authentic implication behind rescuing the domains of Britannia.

“By allowing that sovereign to retain command, in the facts, you made the resolution to condemn Britannia.”

Dale exteriorized a mockery filled with coldness.

“Does this outcome represent the judgment of the divinities, just as the will of the Goddess establishes?”

Acting in the capacity of an instrument of celestial mandates, the Holy Maiden Aurelia found herself deprived of arguments to reply.

She only managed to preserve that expression of sorrow on her face, maintaining it fixed until the end.

The combat blade belonging to an anonymous combatant fragmented into multiple pieces.

“Ha, ha-ha-ha…!”

An individual was bursting into laughter with evident dementia.

──A subject whose features resembled those of a swine.

The armor he wore looked extremely tight against an aberrantly inflamed muscular structure, to the point of giving the impression that it would give way at any moment.

A swinish being with human physiognomy. An aberrant and repulsive creature to behold.

However, the bladed weapon he wielded, which emitted a “gleam of snowy purity,” was far from sharing that nature. It corresponded to one of the magic items of greatest magnitude in the entire continental territory, manufactured originally by the founder of the White Tower.

The “Sacred Sword Durandal.”

In other words, that subject provided with armor and swinish features was none other than the acclaimed paladin of the Empire’s war conflicts… the Sacred Swordsman, recognized as the “Avatar of the Count of Brandenburg.”

The supreme echelon of chivalric disciplines: the ability to project personal dogma onto combat steel. The armor of doctrine. And the consequence derived from unifying his dogma with his weapon, his armor, and his own physiognomy constituted precisely that.

The true appearance of the Sacred Swordsman. A creature deformed by worldly ambitions, having deviated completely from the path of men. The common people referred to this manifestation, between mockery and dread, under the appellative of the “King of Pigs.”

And it was precisely this King of Pigs who stood up to the Holy Maiden.

The lower segment of his combat attire projected in a deformed manner, having dismissed any trait of human honorability to transform into a swinish being moved by low passions.

Crack, crack!

The metallic protection gave way under the pressure, unable to house that mass of constantly growing ambition. The dense, pinkish-toned musculature remained exposed to the air.

“…”

A chilling and contorted panorama, an agglomeration of the greatest aesthetic base-nesses of the earthly plane.

The King of Pigs.

The fatty matter of swinish nature emanated from his physiognomy resembling a thick fluid. Salivary substance dripped from his jaws.

And the King of Pigs, acting in his role as Holy Swordsman, attacked with ferocity in the direction of the Holy Maiden, who opposed firm resistance to the limit of her capabilities.

Half a dozen winged appendages composed of light energy increased their intensity, projecting a column of total eradication force and sweeping everything in its path.

The urban infrastructure collapsed completely before the uncontrollable impact of the destructive force.

Despite the circumstances, the stubborn Sacred Swordsman remained immovable in his position.

“…!”

That immense block of organic tissue did not register any damage.

The “rival-less splendor” did not constitute an exclusive faculty of the Holy Maiden Aurelia. Particularly in a conjuncture where the White Sorcerer assigned to the Seventh Circle… Archbishop Thomas was not present at the scene.

Counting on the support of crimson and snowy thaumaturges of higher ranks providing support to the Holy Swordsman, consolidating a victory became a chimera.

Spurred by his internal appetites, the King of Pigs projected himself toward the front. Without being slowed down by his own bodily density, he increased the speed of movement and the steel of the Sacred Swordsman descended with force.

A direct confrontation between metaphysical manifestations. However, the conditions of the clash denoted a colossal disparity.

The steel of the swinish beast imposed itself over the attributes of the angelic entity.

An attack that combined mass and acceleration optimally, although devoid of any glimmer of gallantry.

“Ha, ha-ha-ha-ha!”

With each blow delivered, the light-energy appendages ended up torn. The winged structures made to shreds, the combat attire pulverized, the clean anatomy of the Sacred Maiden suffered multiple lacerations and vital fluid scattered across the ground.

A swinish being profaning the purity of an angel. A highly twisted panorama.

Despite his repulsive traits, it was a mistake to underestimate the combat capabilities of the Sacred Knight with swinish features. The distinction as a member of the Seven Swords of the Continent was not obtained fortuitously.

“Gah, gah…!”

The paladin extended his upper extremity and the animal’s hoof gripped the throat of the earthly divinity with force, raising her above the ground.

“You will represent an excellent breeding female,” the creature manifested with a tone of mockery.

“Gah… ugh…” The young woman made desperate efforts to inhale oxygen, convulsing before the affliction. The “King of Pigs” fixed his attention on the entity that sought air with desperation.

“Engender my descendants, woman.”

His vocal tone was perceived as altered by an aberrant amalgam of carnal appetite and obsessive fixation.

“Submit your will, and submit it once more, and again, and again…!”

The swinish specimen emitted a laugh loaded with mental derangement.

“Do not consider rest in the absolute until you have brought into the world a dozen, no, a hundred offspring!”

He enjoyed his degrading and uncontrollable lasciviousness fully.

“Oink, oink!”

He smashed the young woman’s body against the surface of the ground, trapping her using the weight of his monumental physiognomy.

“…!”

Immersed in that agony that prevented her from breathing, she shifted her gaze toward the side. At a short distance was located a fragmented steel, the combat tool of a nameless marine who at the time offered resistance next to her.

She lacked the energies required to face her aggressor. However, for the purpose of avoiding that degradation and dishonor, perhaps she retained enough determination to direct the remaining edge toward her own left ventricle.

Consequently, she stretched her arm. Or at least she tried to.

“Stop your actions.”

A firm order interrupted the environment and, for a brief moment, Aurelia’s movement ceased. However, the stubborn paladin showed no intentions of stopping. He was resolved to break the young woman’s resistance and satisfy his appetites.

“Under the conditions established in the mandatory submission decree, I have ordered you to restrain yourself, disgusting vermin.”

Those were the words pronounced by Dale.

The Geas, the oath of mystical restriction.

The voice emitted by Dale gained strength, activating the same commitment they agreed upon during the days of the war conflict, a promise sealed indelibly in his inner forum. In any future confrontation or deployment, the paladin held the obligation to obey Dale’s directives unquestionably.

At that precise moment, the swinish specimen, who continued to restrict the young woman’s movement, turned his face in the direction of Dale.

It happened in a fraction of a second.

In the exact instant that the creature modified its orientation, the front section of the sacred sword Durandal was already positioned over Dale’s pectoral region.

“…!”

It happened vertiginously, at a speed such that even Dale found it impossible to foresee. However, the action did not go beyond that.

“Despicable beast,” Dale expressed in a contained manner. The holding sector of the sacred steel evidenced a slight vibration, as the Geas exerted intense pressure on the creature’s cardiac system.

Subsequently, a spiral of combat energy manifested in the environment and the paladin’s metaphysical projection dissipated completely.

In its place remained only an individual devoid of clothing.

His protective attire and habitual garments lay reduced to rags, leaving him totally unprotected.

“What a panorama,” Lady Scarlet expressed, accompanying her words with a laugh loaded with disdain.

“Counting on a tool so deficient for tilling, fruits of the earth will never be obtained.”

She mocked without qualms the personal weakness that had tormented the paladin throughout his entire existence.

“It possesses dimensions smaller than mine,” added Dale, expressing himself as if he were evaluating a matter of null personal relevance.

Chapter 79