Chapter 819

Chapter 819
The Adversary and his high-ranking clerics avoided a direct confrontation. Rather than meeting our forces head-on, they utilized hit-and-run tactics, bypassing the dragons and summoning a literal tide of Riftkin to harass us from every angle, hoping to fracture our formation.

Ultimately, we were forced to restructure our entire military around our superhuman assets. It became clear that only the pinnacle of our fighters could possibly trade blows with the Adversary and the high priests.

The dragons were similarly partitioned, with individuals assigned to bolster different legions. This was the only way we could effectively counter the constant ambushes, though it meant our forward momentum slowed to a crawl.

Since our progress was already hindered, we focused on fortifying our defenses against the Adversary’s hit-and-run strikes. Organized into distinct legions, we pushed forward with agonizing deliberation, surrounding the Demonic Realm in a massive, sweeping siege.

“Hmm…”

Astion tilted his chin toward the firmament.

A flickering, obsidian miasma was crawling across the sky. While occasional shards of sunlight pierced through, the encroaching shadows were rapidly swallowing the light.

Astion shifted his focus away from the Demonic Realm. The gloom was rolling like an infinite tide, surging far past the line of the horizon.

“It’s moving faster than the historical accounts suggested. Is the Adversary’s presence accelerating the corruption?”

The darkness bled out from the Demonic Realm without pause. If it continued at this pace, the entire world would soon be submerged in shadow.

Because of this gloom, the Riftkin were able to rampage far beyond their usual territories.

In theory, if one stayed where the darkness had not yet reached, the Riftkin were paralyzed. However, waiting for that was a fool’s errand—if left to its own devices, the shadow would eventually blanket every corner of the globe.

Already, the nations bordering the Demonic Realm lived under a permanent twilight. Those territories were effectively lost.

“Under the old strategies, we would have simply hunkered down until the Riftkin faded away…”

That had been the cycle of previous conflicts. Mankind’s only recourse was to endure the onslaught until the demonic entities eventually dissipated on their own.

This was how the Great Wars had repeated throughout history. The Demonic Realm would shatter the front lines, overrunning the continent, and the human coalition would spend decades trying to push them back.

The price of such a war was the total ruin of the economy and the decimation of the populace. It usually took over a century just to recover.

“But this time, the rules have changed.”

Thanks to the presence of the Saintess, humanity actually held a genuine belief that the Demonic Realm could be wiped out for good.

The Saintess’s holy power acted as a direct antithesis to the energy of the Demon God. Furthermore, she possessed the unique ability to channel the Sacred Stones.

Relying on this, the dragons had formulated a strategy to strike at the very heart of the Demonic Realm and neutralize the source of the corruption.

The dragons were certain of their plan. Astion, too, believed in its potential for success.

“Ghislain assured us that we would succeed in sealing the Demonic Realm.”

However, he had also warned that achieving this goal would cost the lives of Deneb and Julien. Astion’s personal mission was to ensure they proceeded with maximum caution.

If his companions were exposed to even the slightest hint of mortality, he was prepared to slow their progress even further, searching for any alternative that didn’t involve their deaths.

The Adversary was well aware of the alliance’s intentions. From the beginning, his goal had been to seize the Sacred Stones for himself to facilitate the Demonic Realm’s ultimate expansion.

The Adversary manifested before our lines on numerous occasions. Yet, regardless of his individual might, he couldn’t dismantle every legion simultaneously. This was especially true for the legion guarding the Saintess—protected by Dragon Lords and a vanguard of superhumans, even the Adversary hesitated to make a direct move.

While our pace was sluggish, every division continued its steady march, putting immense pressure on the cultists of the Demonic Realm. They lacked the power to challenge the dragons directly. Eventually, once we breached the heart of the Demonic Realm, they would be forced into a final stand to halt the Saintess.

In anticipation of that moment, we tightened our net, staying prepared to consolidate our forces at a moment’s notice. Spirit was high; things were progressing in our favor. A sense of optimism took hold—the idea that we might finally conclude this eternal conflict for good.

…But that was a product of our own hubris. We realized far too late that the nightmares described in the most ancient, dusty scrolls were not myths, and we were unprepared for the sheer scale of their power.

*Gooooooo…*

Entities that defied the natural order began to manifest.

A predator possessing a lion’s head and the sharp talons of an eagle, with eyes that glowed like twin suns, incinerating everything they fell upon.

A massive, serpent-like horror adorned with thousands of wings, its gargantuan frame effectively erasing the sky.

A colossus with dozens of limbs, breathing torrents of fire that turned the soil to glass.

A towering stag with bells of carved bone hanging from its antlers, whose ringing caused entire mountain ranges to buckle and fail.

Monstrosities of every conceivable shape, things that surpassed the darkest nightmares of man, began to emerge.

Their flesh was a uniform, sickly pale—the color of a week-old corpse—sending a primal shiver through the soul of every living thing.

The ancient records gave them a specific title:

― The Lesser Gods of the Outer World.

True to their name, their strength rivaled that of the divine. The dragons had no choice but to take to the skies to engage them.

In a clash between such transcendent beings, no mortal could hope to intervene.

This was precisely the Adversary’s gambit—to call forth these Lesser Gods to pin down the dragons.

With the Lesser Gods occupying our strongest assets, we were deprived of the dragons’ support. Consequently, the task of holding back the Adversary, the high priests, and the endless Riftkin fell solely to the human alliance.

From that point on, the Adversary stopped holding back. We could no longer focus on maintaining a broad defensive line; to stay spread out was to invite total annihilation.

We concentrated our elite forces into a single point. The Adversary ignored every other target, focusing his murderous intent solely on the Saintess. The goals were clear: we were gunning for the Demonic Realm, and the Adversary was gunning for the Saintess.

*Kwaaaaaang!*

With a display of terrifying power, the Adversary smashed through the allied front. He saw no one else.

His only target was the Saintess Deneb.

The superhumans of the alliance moved to intercept him, but they couldn’t even slow his pace.

*Kwang! Kwang! Kwang!*

With every casual motion of his hand, master warriors were tossed aside like dry leaves in a storm.

Finally, when the Adversary was close enough to strike at Deneb—

*Kwaaaaaaang!*

Julien moved to block his path. Astion bombarded him with high-level explosive sorcery, while Ereneth used the power of spirits to entangle him.

Lionel stepped forward with his shield raised, positioning himself as Deneb’s final line of defense. He absorbed the Adversary’s brutal strikes at the cost of his own physical wellbeing.

Marika circled, striking from the shadows whenever a gap appeared. Her swordsmanship had reached a level of lethality that actually managed to draw the Adversary’s focus.

They had all reached a level of power far beyond their previous selves. Years of relentless training and the consumption of the Dragon Hearts Ghislain had provided had pushed them past the limits of humanity.

Yet, even at this peak, the Adversary remained a daunting, seemingly insurmountable obstacle.

*Kwaaaaaaang!*

They were battered back one by one. Despite their evolution, the Adversary was like a wall they couldn’t scale.

However, Deneb was the anchor. Her holy aura dampened the Adversary’s dark energy while revitalizing her companions.

Her concentration was the only thing preventing the supernatural darkness on the field from overwhelming them entirely.

The Adversary pushed toward Deneb with singular focus, yet he could not break through. The superhumans continued to rise from the dirt, placing themselves in his way over and over again.

“…Still… the moment has not yet arrived?”

Muttering those cryptic words, the Adversary faded back into the gloom.

We clashed in this manner repeatedly. There were instances where we stood on the brink of disaster, but we risked everything to shield Deneb. Everyone understood that her survival was our only path to victory.

The Adversary was a titan, a force of nature. But because of Deneb, we managed to survive the encounters. And with every brush with the afterlife, our strength only grew.

But we weren’t the only ones evolving. The high priests of the Demonic Realm were growing in both headcount and raw power, fueled by the Adversary’s influence. Our superhumans were locked in a desperate struggle with them, turning the campaign into a grueling war of attrition.

The elite among the high priests were four entities known as the Apostles. Previously called Prophets, they adopted the new title upon the Adversary’s arrival. Two of them were new appointments, filling the voids left by Prophet Rahamod and Prophet Tagmah, who had already been eliminated. They took up the mantle as the new Apostles.

Ghislain had provided Astion with a wealth of intelligence, knowing Astion would have to serve as the group’s strategist in his absence.

Regarding the deaths of Rahamod and Tagmah, Ghislain had explained:

“There were originally four designated as Apostles. Rahamod and Tagmah were among them. They likely still use the title of Prophet because they haven’t yet secured their king.”

“So, by killing them early, have we altered the timeline? With those threats removed, shouldn’t the risk to Julien and Deneb be lower?”

“Perhaps… I believe so… but there are no certainties.”

“The point is, those who were supposed to be future threats are gone. Things are changing, piece by piece.”

“…Yes. That is my hope.”

I wanted to believe we had successfully shifted the course of destiny. I convinced myself we were still changing it. But new entities appeared with power that rivaled the two we had killed.

I tried to tell myself that these newcomers were just desperate replacements, lacking the true power of their predecessors. Yet, a nagging doubt began to fester in my mind.

Had we actually changed anything? Or was the universe simply filling in the gaps to ensure the original outcome remained the same? That fear was hard to shake.

I fought those thoughts. Ghislain had been adamant that the future was not set in stone. If it were unchangeable, why would he have traveled back to pave the way for us?

Because of his intervention, we were far ahead of the historical schedule, which allowed us to actually stand against the Adversary. We would keep getting stronger.

*KWAANG! KWAANG! KWAAAANG!*

True to Astion’s assessment, the Julien Mercenary Corps became more formidable with every encounter. Since the other superhumans were tied up with the Apostles and high priests, the defense of Deneb fell to a smaller group. But Julien’s meteoric rise meant he could hold the line against the Adversary for longer and longer intervals.

Julien was still the underdog in terms of raw power. However, the combination of Deneb’s divinity and the support of the spirits bridged the gap. Time and again, the Adversary failed to kill the Saintess by the narrowest of margins.

He brought more powerful Apostles and cultists with every attempt, but Julien and the others matched that growth.

*KAAANG!*

Julien’s steel met the Adversary’s hand. In that moment, the Adversary’s crimson eyes flared with a strange light.

“…I don’t understand.”

“…”

“I have embraced my purpose. I know I am destined to succeed.”

“…”

“Then… why… can I not seem to strike you or the Saintess down?”

From the start, the Adversary had been the most powerful being on the continent. Even a Dragon Lord couldn’t face him alone. Yet, no matter his effort, the Saintess remained alive.

He always failed by a hair’s breadth, and by the time he returned, his enemies had leveled up. Even with perfect planning, the cycle repeated. It felt as if the universe was declaring that it wasn’t time for the Saintess to die yet.

He felt the heavy weight of destiny holding him back.

“Is it still… not time? Does fate itself refuse to let you die?”

Julien finally spoke, his voice steady.

“We’ve put in just as much work as you have.”

“…”

“We’ve stared death in the face. We haven’t taken a single day off.”

“…”

“We’ve killed ourselves trying to master everything Ghislain left for us. So don’t you dare—”

“…”

“—don’t you dare blame this on fate.”

*KWAAAANG!*

Julien lashed out with his blade, a strike that seemed to carry the weight of the entire world. Simultaneously, the elemental spirits surrounding him launched a coordinated assault. These spirits had matured into entities that could rival superhumans on their own.

It felt as though the world itself was fighting through Julien. Through years of constant warfare, Julien had become a terrifying force. The Adversary could no longer simply overlook him.

*PAAAH!*

The darkness shattered as Julien’s strike connected. The Adversary’s eyes narrowed as he asked:

“Who is this Ghislain…?”

“…”

“That name feels like a thorn in my side… Who is the one who coached you…?”

“…”

“Where is he…? Why isn’t he here for the final act…?”

Julien remained silent, focusing entirely on his offensive.

*KWAAAAAANG!*

Their powers collided repeatedly. As the duel stretched on, Julien began to give ground. But even the Adversary struggled to maintain his form under the oppressive weight of the goddess’s power saturating the field.

Killing the Saintess would end the pressure—but to get to her, he had to get through Julien. And Julien was not breaking.

“…Another failure, then.”

The Adversary began to pull back. His very essence seemed to sizzle under the divine storm. If he stayed any longer, he risked losing his Apostles. With a sense of frustration, he retreated once more.

“Huu…”

Julien collapsed, drained. His teammates, who had been holding off the Apostles, were in similar states. Every battle was a tightrope walk—precarious and exhausting. But they had held.

“Waaaah!”

“We drove them back again!”

“The Adversary is retreating!”

The soldiers of the alliance erupted in cheers. The difficulty of the fight didn’t matter to them; all that mattered was that they had survived another round with the Adversary and his Apostles. As this victory repeated, their morale solidified into genuine confidence.

And for Julien, the man who stood against the darkness time and again, a new name took hold.

“Hero Julien!”

“The Hero is with us!”

“With the Hero and the Saintess, we are invincible!”

“Waaaaaah!”

By always taking the vanguard against the Adversary, Julien had truly earned his title. When Ghislain had first used that word, I thought it was a bit much, but seeing the way people looked at Julien now—it stirred a strange mix of emotions in me.

Hero Julien. Alongside Saintess Deneb, the name became a beacon. Perhaps it was the weight of the title, or simply the pressure of the role, but Julien continued to gamble his life in every encounter, growing exponentially each time.

Julien and Deneb were seen as divine gifts. People began to refer to the rest of us as the Hero’s party—living miracles. We had truly reached those heights. Most of us were a bit embarrassed by the praise, except for Kyle, of course.

Our strength continued to trend upward. We withstood every assault. Meanwhile, the dragons and the Lesser Gods were busy thinning each other’s ranks. Eventually, the Adversary was forced into a full retreat, and we seized that opening to lunge toward the borders of the Demonic Realm.

…At last, we arrived at the threshold of the enemy’s territory. This was their home turf; the dangers here were unknown. I remained vigilant. I repeatedly cautioned Julien and Deneb and made it clear to the Dragon Lords that their protection was the only thing that mattered.

The end was in sight. With Ghislain’s help, we had derailed the train of destiny and made it this far. Therefore…

We would finish this without losing either of them—whatever the cost.