The Apostle did not repeat himself. Instead, he gripped the staff in his right hand and stretched out his left hand.
To Pel, the hand gesture was peculiar. The Apostle brought his thumb, middle finger, and ring finger together before spreading them and making sweeping movements.
Finally, he extended only his index and pinky fingers while pulling the others together.
After making several gestures and muttering incomprehensible words, a drop of black liquid dripped from his fingertips.
Only then did the Apostle utter something intelligible.
"Hualin's Dog."
It was a spell Luagarne had seen when dealing with cultists before. The black liquid expanded on its own and took shape, standing on four legs.
Growl—
As the creature shook its head and let out a piercing howl, black mist poured from its mouth and rose over its head.
The spells of ordinary cultists and the Apostles of Rebirth were on completely different levels of power. The beast was clearly no pushover.
"Kill him."
At the Apostle’s command, Hualin's Dog joined the battle. It kicked off the ground with a thud, transforming into a black blur as it charged.
Encrid sensed the creature targeting his back, turned around, and dodged before smashing its nose with his elbow.
Crack.
With a satisfying sound, Hualin's Dog was flung backward and crashed to the ground on its back.
Despite being thrown quite hard, it got up without so much as a whimper, shook its head a few times, and bared its fangs again. It wasn’t exactly intimidating but certainly a nuisance. The Apostle continued chanting spells without pause.
"Your body lies there. Go and take it back."
"The one who killed your mother is right there."
"Answer my prayer and mark that human's body with a stigma."
During this time, Encrid barely found an opening to extend his sword and slice Hualin's Dog vertically in half.
Instead of being struck, the beast was cleaved, turning to ash and disappearing.
A vampire's claw descended from above, but Encrid managed to punch it away once more.
Boom!
A deafening explosion sent an invisible force rippling through the air, accompanied by a gust of wind.
The ashes of Hualin's Dog were caught in the wind and scattered into the night sky.
Whooosh!
The wind carried a searing heat as though imbued with the energy of the red moonlight. There was no helping it—clashing swords repeatedly in battle created intense heat despite it being a cold winter night. Sparks flew, and thunderous blasts erupted continuously.
The normally quiet night now felt as lively as a festival. Of course, it was the kind of festival where blood served as wine, flesh as bread, and bones as tableware.
At some point, the sword in Encrid's hand began to emit a pale bluish light reminiscent of moonlight.
The black whip-like sword and the crimson-tinged vampire spells were being consistently blocked by the glowing blue energy, creating a spectacle of three colors colliding in midair.
It reminded him of something he had seen before.
A similar scene had played out when Oara faced Balrog.
Of course, unlike that time, Encrid was at the center, scattering pale blue light with every swing of his sword, so he couldn’t simply watch from afar.
Hualin's Dog, which had initially seemed able to endure the first strike, was killed, and the spirits were similarly slashed apart by the bluish moonlight. Under the light of the Red Moon, they had no chance of survival.
There was no ghost that couldn’t be slain by a single clean cut. And even if it didn’t die immediately, Encrid would have found a way to kill it.
It certainly seemed that way.
Encrid said nothing, focusing solely on swinging his sword.
The Apostle refrained from talking to him further, chanting spells instead without rest.
Strange necromantic incantations poured from his lips, conjuring black forms in midair that charged forward with drawn swords.
Some kind of black masses also shot through the air.
Neither Pel, Luagarne, nor Zero were content to merely spectate.
All three drew their weapons. Luagarne, in particular, puffed up her cheeks.
Seeing cultists reminded her of her deceased lover. They were her sworn enemies. Even though the intensity of her hatred had faded, there was no way she could just smile and let them pass.
Especially since these cultists sought to turn the world into a Demon Realm ruled by devils.
Could any sane person sit back and watch such a thing unfold? Anyone agreeing with them would have to be out of their mind.
"You damn cultist bastards."
Luagarne gripped a looped sword in one hand and a whip in the other.
Crack!
The whip struck the ground, igniting sparks. Pel readied the Idol Slayer and assumed a stance. Zero, meanwhile, retreated cautiously, observing the situation.
Should he join in or not? It felt like he might only get in the way. Yet, running away didn’t sit well with him.
He had spent his whole life avoiding and fleeing.
‘If I always avoid fighting because I’m not skilled enough, I’ll never be able to fight properly.’
In Zero’s eyes, his idol Encrid had spent his entire life challenging his limits.
The sensitive intuition of a fairy allowed Zero to read Encrid’s essence. He saw his idol and wanted to emulate him.
That was where Zero’s heart lay. But that didn’t mean he could do anything right now. Keeping quiet was the best option for the moment. Still, he resolved to train relentlessly if he survived, even if it meant a brief detour through the heavenly flower fields.
The heavenly flower fields were where fairies went after death, akin to the human concept of heaven.
The flowers there were said to smell so sweet and delightful that one could inhale their fragrance every day without ever tiring of it, making it much like paradise.
While Zero silently observed and steeled his resolve, Pel focused on the Apostle of Rebirth. To be honest, he was ready to take him down if things got out of hand, but there wasn’t an opening.
The Apostle seemed agitated, evident from the veins bulging on his forehead as he chanted spell after spell.
‘Even if there’s no opening, should I dig one out?’
As he subtly shifted his stance, the Apostle’s gaze flicked toward him.
Was it intuition or heightened sixth sense?
It didn’t matter either way. The Apostle resumed chanting his next spell nonchalantly.
"Hualin’s Hunting Game."
As he shook the staff and spoke, black liquid gathered at the tip and dropped, transforming into a dozen or so dogs.
There seemed to be horses among them as well.
Pel tightened his grip on his sword and surveyed the situation. It was time to change his approach.
‘I need to relieve some of this burden.’
If left alone, the Apostle’s spells would overwhelm and suffocate Encrid. He needed to threaten the Apostle to disrupt him.
While he resolved to act, the Apostle unveiled another spell.
"Come forth, Warrior of Death."
The Apostle had once been known as the "Spell Collector" due to his mastery of a hundred different incantations.
How vast was the gap between him and a wizard like Galaf, who could grasp a flowing river with magic?
Without Esther present, none of them could know for sure.
But one thing was clear.
This Apostle could take on everyone here by himself.
"Do you think it’s a coincidence we’ve met here? No. I’ve been waiting for this moment. Once I kill you all, I’ll rain despair upon the Border Guard. I’ve already sent my subordinates to the city where you once lived. Do you still not understand me? Then I’ll say it again, as many times as it takes."
The Apostle seemed truly enraged.
Pel noted this as he observed the pale-skinned warrior emerging from the dark mist. It wielded a broad blade, and its eyes were pitch black.
Was it a monster or a demonic creature born from a spell?
The Warrior of Death was a necromantic creation typically used to counter Junior Knights. The more advanced spell was the Death Knight.
But neither spell was easy to cast.
Unless the caster offered their own body to the gods, they needed the corpse of a warrior or Knight as a foundation.
The Apostle of Rebirth could summon up to fifteen Warriors of Death through his spells.
Pel didn’t know all the details, but he knew what he had to do.
The moment the Apostle looked this way and chanted his spell, Encrid also glanced in this direction. At this rate, Pel would become a burden rather than a companion or subordinate.
‘You genius bastards, I’ll catch up to you no matter what.’
Pel made a resolution similar to Zero’s, yet different in its own way.
In any case, Pel knew his role well. He had to support Encrid, who was dealing with two Knight-level opponents and the enemy’s spells simultaneously.
In that case, he couldn’t afford to drag out the fight against these enemies for long.
He took a deep breath and locked eyes on his target. The black warrior held a broad blade and assumed a stance. Its legs were spread just enough, and the tip of its blade pointed skyward. The weapon looked light, but its arms appeared thick and muscular.
This was somewhat of a gamble.
‘Thanks to that bastard Lawford, I’ve made these kinds of gambles dozens of times before.’
Pel’s talents were certainly exceptional in some areas. Moreover, he had endured countless beatings from Encrid to get this far.
He hadn’t just learned how to provoke people.
The black sword descended diagonally in a slashing motion. The enemy’s stance showed no obvious gaps. A flow of energy could be sensed running from its feet up through its thighs. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call its skill at a master’s level. The sword swung by the Death Warrior seemed capable of splitting Pel in two.
Only then did Pel move.
He stepped forward with his left foot and slashed upward with his sword. There could be no wasted movement in any of his actions.
And so, there wasn’t.
Every finger, every toe, was used as if they existed solely for this one strike.
While Encrid had observed and stolen Pel’s talents, Pel had also been learning. The technique he demonstrated now was Encrid’s specialty—‘Full Power Slash’.
Pel’s sword split the Death Warrior from its abdomen to its head. The enemy’s blade sliced through nothing but empty air.
Pel advanced, halting his upward slash in midair.
For a moment, it seemed as though the red moonlight in his path had been cut as well. In this arena, merely being a master was no longer sufficient.
Pel declared this with his sword.
The playing field had changed, and he needed to change along with it.
"Hoo."
As he steadied his breath and looked forward, he saw the Apostle standing silently, mouth tightly shut.
Should he ask if the Apostle hadn’t understood him and needed him to repeat it?
Pel felt that whatever he said right now probably wouldn’t provoke much of a reaction, so he kept silent and gripped his sword.
"Mormon."
The Apostle’s mouth opened. At his command, the figure standing next to him, with its sleeves and ankles tied with string, stepped forward.
Pel had expected the target to be him.
‘Another one?’
But the figure headed for Encrid instead.
The sound of its steps revealed that this was no ordinary opponent. Pel couldn’t pinpoint exactly what made it exceptional, but it exuded an undeniable aura of danger—a warning delivered through his heightened senses.
‘If it had come for me, I wouldn’t have been able to handle it.’
That was Pel’s assessment. There were three opponents, all heading for Encrid.
Could Encrid handle them?
"Fine. Let’s do it this way. We’ll just watch for now. But we can’t let our hands and feet stay idle. Come out, Sham."
The Apostle summoned four more Death Warriors. He sent one to Luagarne, one to Zero, and two to Pel.
Then, he summoned eleven additional corpses and directed them all toward Encrid.
Although there were differences in quality, they were all at least at a Junior Knight’s level.
They might not serve as effective meat shields since they were corpses, but they were good enough to disrupt Encrid’s movements and slow him down.
Encrid was now facing three powerful opponents, on top of dealing with spells and Death Warriors.
"Shouldn’t we be calling for reinforcements?"
Pel muttered.
Had they moved too recklessly? Should they have anticipated that the cultists would unleash everything they had? Had Krais overlooked this?
If so, they were all going to die here. The look in the Apostle’s eyes as he stared at Encrid made it clear that escape wasn’t an option.
‘Three opponents, all at the level of Knights.’
Pel couldn’t help but realize once again that this was an entirely different playing field.
The Black Snake Ele, the vampire, and the last opponent—a martial artist—all possessed Knight-level skill.
The newest arrival charged in with clenched fists. While the first two were experts in unconventional techniques, this one adhered strictly to traditional combat.
With two Death Warriors against him, Pel couldn’t afford to bet everything on a single decisive strike as he had earlier. He needed to focus on buying time.
Luagarne had to protect Zero while fighting.
Even though she hated the cultists, there was no reason to fight so recklessly that she’d end up killing the person next to him.
Luagarne had learned plenty from Encrid as well, including how to protect others.
Zero’s face darkened as he realized he was becoming a burden. He was angry but had no choice but to stay silent and keep swinging his Naidil sword as diligently as he could.
If Encrid fell, they would all die. It seemed like only a matter of time.
The fragile balance holding everything together wouldn’t last long. Yet somehow, they were holding out.
Was it thanks to the Goddess of the Scales?
Or perhaps the Goddess of Luck was lending her aid?
"Geez, this is crazy."
Luagarne muttered halfway through, sounding genuinely surprised.
Pel, who was clashing with the dual-wielding Death Warriors while keeping an eye on Encrid, shared the sentiment. However, unlike Luagarne, who seemed to understand something, Pel was at a complete loss. If he had the luxury of time, he would’ve tilted his head in confusion and perhaps even discussed or debated the matter with the two warriors attacking him.
"Hey, how long do you guys think you could last against three Knights?"
He would’ve asked something like that.
The Idol Slayer could cut down spirits, but it couldn’t instantly neutralize Death Warriors, which was frustrating. Yet all that frustration vanished in an instant.
Everyone’s attention was drawn to where Encrid was fighting. What they saw was beyond belief.
"What… is this?"
The cult’s headquarters was naturally located in the Demon Realm. But that didn’t mean they neglected the local branches.
The Apostle of Rebirth was a figure capable of single-handedly taking on Knights, and his three subordinates should’ve been able to kill at least one Knight without much trouble. But that wasn’t the case.
Encrid’s sword had just sliced through the vampire in front of him.
Screeech!
The pale blue light slashed through the vampire’s body three times. The red moon, which should’ve been empowering the vampire, seemed useless now.
Under normal circumstances, the Vampire Apostle should’ve been able to take on Encrid alone. Yet now its limbs were severed, and its body rolled across the ground.
‘Is this a dream?’
The Apostle thought to himself.
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