Chapter 99

Chapter 99
Heinrich Saint Landguard.

Heinrich, who had claimed ownership of the sacred blade and attained the rank of a Paladin, was granted the middle name ‘Saint’.

This was far more than a simple title.

It was a moniker reserved strictly for individuals selected by the Main God, a privilege shared only with the Saints and Saintesses of the Holy Church.

‘This is entirely due to the “Grand Blessing: Knight of Light” bestowed upon me during the knighting ritual…’

Blessings came in numerous forms, ranging from the ones he currently possessed—such as Fortified Body, Leap, and Capacity Increase—to those he had yet to acquire.

He had not fully grasped the reality of it until this moment because he had been living under the direct gaze of the Main God, but it functioned essentially as a recompense for fulfilling specific requirements.

Pushing one’s physical form past its absolute boundaries through grueling training would yield the blessing of ‘Fortified Body’.

Absorbing and containing a greater volume of holy energy than one’s natural threshold through persistent devotion would grant the blessing of ‘Capacity Increase’.

Furthermore, if a practitioner surpassed a particular benchmark while honing techniques powered by holy energy or analyzing holy magic, that effort would manifest as a blessing and return to bless the user.

‘I never truly realized it before.’

Reflecting on his journey, every single blessing he had obtained, with the sole exception of “Blessing: Leap”, had manifested when he applied himself entirely to the challenge at hand.

The requirements might have been somewhat lenient, but they were never entirely arbitrary.

However, a ‘Grand Blessing’ belonged to a completely different tier than the standard ‘blessings’ he had earned thus far.

‘A divine favor granted exclusively through the personal selection of the Main God.’

It was a rarity that might only manifest in a single individual per generation across the entire global population of believers within the Main God Church.

To put it in perspective, the solitary living person who possessed a Grand Blessing in the current era was Saintess Liesta.

Historical records even noted eras where no living soul received one, emphasizing just how exceptionally rare it was to attain.

‘Furthermore, being acknowledged by the sacred blade does not guarantee that you will receive a Grand Blessing.’

Throughout history, there were roughly ten documented wielders of the sacred blade, yet only two among them held the status of Saints.

The legendary savior from a millennium ago, who was a Saint from the very beginning, wielded the sacred blade to vanquish the Immortal King.

Similarly, the savior of the previous age attained the status of a Saint only after claiming the sacred blade, mirroring Heinrich’s own path.

In essence, the champions who had successfully eradicated the Immortal King using the sacred blade in past eras were invariably Saints handpicked by the Main God.

‘This indicates that the Main God is keeping a very close watch on the abyss. Still, being called a Saint is rather awkward.’

It appeared the Main God was offering substantial backing because he deemed him a valuable asset, but Heinrich could not shake a profound sense of pressure.

The reason was simple…

“Look! The Saint is here!”

“Just as I suspected, I knew he was someone extraordinary the moment he first arrived at the cathedral. To think the Main God would claim him so rapidly.”

“His rate of development was undeniably supernatural. It all makes perfect sense now.”

The individuals who had previously interacted with him on casual terms were now conducting themselves with deep reverence.

This shift extended to the Paladins, the Archbishops, and even the Cardinals—high-ranking figures he had never even set eyes upon before.

‘Additionally, the caliber of the armor I was just assigned is extraordinary.’

The pristine, snow-white armor shielding his frame, known as the ‘Guardian of Glory’, stood as an absolute masterpiece, forged by the finest master craftsmen of the Main God Church with absolute dedication.

It incorporated exceptionally scarce materials like mithril and orichalcum.

The interior surfaces were meticulously engraved with sacred prayers, and the entire suit was saturated with diverse tiers of advanced holy magic along with a divine ward, rendering it essentially a mobile stronghold.

‘And the financial cost is equally staggering.’

The expenditure matched that of a fully operational strategic stronghold fortified with extensive magical enhancements, rather than a minor outpost located on a distant border.

Even with the immense wealth of the Main God Church, they had constructed only a single set due to the prohibitive cost, leaving even standard Paladins to utilize lesser grades of gear.

It was, for all intents and purposes, a holy relic.

‘To put it another way, this represents my ultimate loadout. The ultimate weapon in the sacred blade, paired with the ultimate defense in the Guardian of Glory. Equipment concerns are a thing of the past.’

With his new status as a Saint, Heinrich was currently returning from an audience with the ailing Pope, walking alongside the Saintess.

A kind demeanor, eyes radiating absolute clarity despite being confined to his bed, and a frame vibrating with immense holy energy.

Hatianuss II, the long-standing leader of the Main God Church, appeared quite robust on the surface…

‘The word is that his remaining days are few. He can only manage to maintain consciousness for roughly an hour each day.’

He persevered solely through the sheer magnitude of his divine energy, but the flame of his existence was rapidly burning down to the wick.

The Saintess was undoubtedly aware of this reality.

Yet, she masked her grief entirely, projecting only a cheerful disposition while introducing Heinrich to the spiritual leader.

She conversed with lively energy until the elder drifted off to sleep once more, and only after they had thoroughly departed from his private quarters did a shadow fall over her features, though she swiftly mastered her emotions and resumed a pleasant smile.

Though youthful in years, she was the Saintess.

She understood that projecting pessimistic feelings would serve no good purpose.

Furthermore, this location was the heart of the planet’s most massive religious order.

To those within these walls, passing away was merely transitioning to another realm beside the Main God, rather than a permanent separation.

While walking and sharing casual remarks with the Saintess, who now seemed to have completely recovered her composure, she abruptly altered the direction of their talk.

“Oh, that reminds me, given that you are now a Saint, Sir Heinrich, our capacity for direct cooperation has increased significantly! I am genuinely delighted to possess a companion who can assist in bearing this weight!”

…It was clear she had been carrying an immense amount of pressure.

Although the Cardinals and administrative officers managed the truly critical and tedious affairs, she stood as the de facto leader now that the Pope was incapacitated, meaning the strain she endured must have been immense.

‘The Pope and the Saintess occupy comparable tiers of authority…’

Symbolically, she might even be viewed as holding a superior rank, but the authority wielded by the Pope, who had ascended to the apex of the priesthood through a lifetime of endless trials, was not something to be minimized.

The youthful Saintess, lacking in practical background, served primarily as an emblem for the Church, whereas the Pope was the actual commander of their forces.

‘The dilemma lies in the current vacancy of active papal leadership.’

Because a successor could only be chosen following the departure of the reigning Pope to the side of the Main God, the remaining leadership had no alternative but to exert extra effort in the interim.

Furthermore, the current Pope was the very individual who had adopted her into his care during his advanced years.

The Saintess’s fierce determination to somehow fulfill the duties of her adoptive father was undoubtedly a primary motivator for her relentless schedule, which even came at the cost of her rest.

“Speaking of which, there was a matter I wished to deliberate with you. You have surely been briefed on the Immortal King’s recent actions, correct?”

Following his elevation to Saint, a contingent of aides had been assigned to keep him updated on external affairs and assist in his daily responsibilities.

It was through these subordinates that he had been tracking recent global developments.

“Reports indicate he is operating with far greater urgency than before. He fractured the abyss, unleashed undead forces upon the lands, and now, he is deliberately baiting our forces…”

The topic centered on the recent maneuvers executed by Immortal King Hans.

The Church’s highly capable intelligence division had even formulated a theory regarding the motives behind these actions, which had been delivered straight to Heinrich.

They had uncovered evidence that he was broadcasting directives to the undead, systematically pulling them together and reclaiming them.

‘Naturally, I never anticipated he could remain hidden indefinitely.’

He had been broadcasting his presence so overtly that anyone possessing a modicum of perception—not merely the Church or the Magic Towers, but even minor provincial rulers—could sense it, making it inevitable that global focus would lock onto his position.

The neighboring factions were likely exhausting every resource to unearth more precise data, a development that spelled trouble for Hans.

“I cannot fathom his sudden change in strategy… but we absolutely cannot permit him to consolidate his armies in this manner. This presents a perfect window to strike him down before his forces multiply further!”

The Saintess spoke with intense conviction, her golden gaze burning with fierce resolve.

This response was precisely what Hans had anticipated.

The incoming acknowledgments to the broadcast Hans emitted carried the inherent danger of exposure to anyone actively seeking out those signals.

‘This is precisely why he is partitioning the territories and executing the operation in phases… yet a number of undead are being purged before they can congregate for extraction.’

This conflict was unfolding at this very moment.

The points of emergence for these undead were scattered randomly, and their numbers were so vast that they frequently appeared within populated zones.

Should they manifest in the vicinity of Church sanctuaries, Magic Towers, settlements housing powerful combatants, or regions backed by formidable standing armies, their destruction was assured the moment their coordinates were compromised.

They were bound to be picked off systematically in isolation, unless a commander from the undying legion arrived to guide them.

“Ah! Furthermore, another assembly of continental leaders is scheduled to convene shortly. With matters reaching this critical juncture, they will be forced to abandon their passivity, meaning we must construct a definitive strategy!”

The Saintess reinforced her commitment with a focused look.

She then shifted her attention directly toward Heinrich, uttering a final word,

“In unison!”

…It was unmistakable that her professional duties had pushed her to the brink of exhaustion.

—

In reality, despite the Church issuing multiple alerts regarding the Immortal King, the sovereign nations populating the Ion Continent faced severe constraints in how they could react.

The current environment diverged drastically from past crises.

Engagements involving previous iterations of the Immortal Kings had essentially amounted to total mobilization and warfare.

The critical factor had been the Church’s ability to track their positions, owing to the highly concentrated abyssal energy radiating from their core hearts.

Granted, past Immortal Kings had achieved the absolute peak of necromancy, allowing them to temporarily evade the scrutiny of the Church, yet…

Regardless of the illusions or decoys they employed to temporarily mask their presence, such measures had an expiration date, and their strongholds were invariably unmasked.

Consequently, they had no alternative but to construct massive undead legions for self-preservation, committing to total war against the combined forces of the continent.

However…

The specific Immortal King resurrected in this era operated on an entirely different playbook.

He was meticulously obscuring his location while orchestrating instability across the lands from deep within the shadows.

Furthermore, pinning down his exact coordinates or gathering intelligence remained an impossible task due to his entirely erratic and swift patterns of movement.

This precise dilemma left the surrounding powers paralyzed and unable to mount an offensive.

What strategy could they deploy when they remained entirely ignorant of their adversary’s location and objectives?

Their options were restricted to safeguarding critical personnel and bastions, reinforcing structural defenses, and marshaling assets for impending disasters.

Yet, as successive months slipped away without a direct manifestation from the threat, the cycle of endless preparation dragged on.

As this state of limbo persisted, opportunistic factions seeking to capitalize on the instability began emerging from the woodwork.

These offenses spanned from the siphoning of military resources and fraudulent defense procurement to clandestine agreements within political circles.

Minor fractures across every tier of civilization accumulated, intensifying the current state of anarchy.

Authorities were currently scrambling to suppress these domestic threats now that the crisis had intensified, yet…

A far more profound shift was accelerating toward them before they could even begin to rectify these internal failings.

A convoy of traders was currently traversing a woodland highway notorious for monster encounters.

Given the inherent perils of the route, the contingent of hired blades shielding the caravan and scouting the perimeter was remarkably robust.

At that moment, a guard tasked with protecting the cargo leaned closer to speak softly to his companion.

“Listen, Mike. Are you certain we are secure out here? Word is that the dead are walking the wilds everywhere lately.”

“What alternative do we have? We cannot simply halt our livelihood indefinitely.”

“Even so…”

“Besides, we will only cross paths with them if fortune completely abandons us. With a force of this size, we stand a fighting chance at managing a skirmish.”

The merchants were equally plugged into current events, prompting multiple trading parties bound for the same destination to pool their resources and secure a far larger mercenary escort than standard protocols required.

Backed by this security, they proceeded boldly through the hazardous forest route, encountering not a single walking corpse.

However…

“Agggh! What in the world are these creatures?!”

“Form a line! These are definitely not standard… Argh!”

A massive swarm of beasts, an overwhelming tide of monsters, descended upon the convoy.

“Grrr—!”

“Kieeeeek!”

The assortment of beasts initiating the assault comprised various lineages, including goblins, orcs, and gremlins, yet they all exhibited identical traits.

Eyes gleaming with a low, crimson radiance.

Saliva pooling and dripping from their jaws.

Muscles distended and engorged to an unnatural degree.

An absolute lack of self-preservation that compelled them to press the assault even with severed limbs…

And a monomaniacal focus to slaughter their human prey until their vital spark vanished, ignoring cleaved throats and ruptured hearts.

“How are these different species coordinating an attack… Ugh!”

“There is no end to their numbers…!”

They were systematically butchering the humans without a shred of mercy.

This precise phenomenon was beginning to manifest in scattered regions across the entire face of the continent—.

The corrupting touch of ‘madness’ was gradually but undeniably breaking through to the surface.