Chapter 136
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Chapter 136
Holy King Sianor convulsed in agony before collapsing backward.
Blood erupted endlessly from the severed limb.
Yet not a single drop of that noble blood was wasted.
Every last trace was absorbed into the pattern.
The pattern began ravenously devouring the Holy King's divine power.
It was far more potent than the combined divine power of all the Holy Knights before him.
The pattern, greedily consuming divine power and hurling it at Hailon, suddenly blazed with blinding light.
Had it exceeded its limits?
A sound like metal scraping against metal pierced through my eardrums.
In that same instant, the pattern on the ground cracked with a sharp report.
The light faded, and silence descended.
The Chains of Condemnation that had filled the surroundings vanished as well.
The quiet that settled over the White Space was eerie.
"...."
Hailon breathed heavily and ragged.
I forced my trembling body upright.
I stumbled several times, but managed to stand at last.
I drew in slow, measured breaths, then wiped away the blood obscuring my vision with the back of my hand.
With an expressionless face, I turned my gaze slowly.
I saw the unconscious Holy King Sianor, seven dead Holy Knights, and Daren, who had survived.
When the Chains of Condemnation had spiraled out of control, Daren too had been caught in its wake and wounded.
Blood trickled from the wound that had opened beneath his eyes.
Daren stared blankly at me.
As he gazed upon my blood-soaked form and the scattered wings at my feet, his face contorted.
A cry of anguish tore from his parted lips.
Blood mingled with tears streamed down his cheeks in crimson rivulets.
Weeping echoed through the silent White Space.
It was a dirge—a wailing lament for the dead.
Yet I could not weep.
Unlike Daren's sobs, I merely stood motionless, gazing upon the fallen.
As though I had forgotten how to cry.
***
"They say the Prince of Hebaton will receive instruction today."
Daren narrowed his eyes and continued speaking.
"That young prince must have already reached his limits. Yet he doesn't seem to possess enough talent in divine power to cause such anomalies."
He remarked dryly that someone would end up dead at this rate, then glanced up at the sky.
"Ah... it looks like rain is coming."
Indeed, the sky had grown overcast.
Gray clouds hung overhead, and the air itself felt thick with moisture.
It seemed as though raindrops could begin falling at any moment.
Daren, still gazing upward, exhaled softly.
The thought of training in the rain drew an involuntary sigh from him.
The knights already waiting at the Training Grounds appeared to share the same sentiment.
As they muttered while looking at the sky, they immediately straightened their postures the moment Hailon and Daren appeared.
Eyes filled with reverence turned uniformly toward Hailon.
Daren felt a surge of pride welling in his chest and found himself smiling without thinking.
He glanced sideways at Hailon beside him.
Hailon's expression remained as impassive as always.
Yet his blue eyes were noticeably darker than usual, weighted with something deeper.
'Is it because of the Prince of Hebaton?'
Daren swallowed the bitterness quietly.
Whenever something involved instruction, even the unfeeling Hailon would grow tense.
'Seven of them died.'
The seven Holy Knights who had been sacrificed in instruction were comrades he had trained alongside since their days as apprentice knights.
Hilderd made no distinctions based on social status.
Yet invisible lines existed nonetheless.
Those of noble birth and those of common origin did not mix well.
The Holy Empire itself managed them separately, albeit subtly.
The knights who had been close to Hailon were all so-called 'lowborn.'
One fewer mouth to feed, orphans with nowhere to go, debts to repay for their families...
Each carried their own desperate circumstances.
So when Holy King Sianor spoke of 'sacrifice for the greater cause,'
promising vast rewards and invoking their families, no one could resist him.
All became obedient sacrifices, offering their divine power.
From the moment they belonged to the Holy Empire, even their corpses were consecrated to Hilderd.
The white mineral used to forge the Holy Knights' sacred blades—produced only in the Holy Empire—was made from the bones of the dead saints.
But using corpses and offering living sacrifices were entirely different matters.
'It was all a tragedy born from the Holy King's greed...'
The Holy King had given Hailon the Chains of Condemnation.
He demanded that Hailon, binding this sacred relic that no one else could handle around his wrist, must possess the divine power to wield it.
Hailon's divine power had been growing year after year.
If only they had waited a few more years.
Without committing such horrific acts, I would have been capable enough to wield the Chains of Condemnation.
But the Holy King forcibly infused divine power into Hailon, who had just come of age.
It was to create a new sacred relic for himself.
When divine power is infused beyond the limits into someone with exceptional talent for it.
An anomalous phenomenon called a divine miracle manifests.
Wings would sprout forth.
Using those as materials, the Holy Empire's sacred relics were crafted.
Thus the Holy King sacrificed Holy Knights as living offerings and infused divine power, and Hailon produced eight wings.
It was a far superior result than what the Holy King had aimed for.
Yet he gained nothing.
That day, the Holy King lost most of his divine power at Hailon's hands and lost both arms, forced to wear prosthetics.
Among the Holy Knights sacrificed as offerings, Daren alone survived that day and kept the scars on his face unhealed to remember it.
And Hailon, who had swallowed seven lives....
Wanted to die.
"My life isn't worth the price of seven sacrifices."
At that time, Hailon had only just come of age.
No matter how indifferent he was to others, he could not remain unmoved before the deaths of comrades he had spent so long with.
'So I sought out the Witch.'
I went to the Witch Lichesia and asked her to kill me, yet somehow I returned alive.
'When I think of such things, I am grateful to the Witch.'
I was alone, dwelling on such ancient memories.
"Daren."
At the brief call, Daren snapped out of his reverie.
"My apologies."
I had let my mind wander far too much.
Daren offered a brief apology and straightened his posture.
It was when Hailon swept his indifferent gaze across the knights arrayed before him.
"...!"
His eyes suddenly widened.
Hailon was not the only one startled.
Gasps of breath erupted from all around.
Flowers bloomed in the empty air.
A rich fragrance spread from the brilliantly blossoming petals.
The flowers, scattering dazzling sparkles, had been coaxed into bloom by fairy power.
Hailon reached toward the flowers as if enchanted.
Appearing among the cascading blooms was a small baby.
The adorable infant gazed at Hailon with large pink eyes.
Daren murmured in surprise.
"...It's the baby, isn't it?"
The fact that Chesa Basilian was a Fairy was already known across the entire continent.
There was no excuse for wielding such power so brazenly within the Holy Empire.
Count Basilian would have surely impressed upon him the importance of restraint, and he himself had been careful not to abuse his strength.
Yet here he stood, openly displaying his power before a gathering of Holy Knights—he couldn't fathom why.
The startled Holy Knights stared wide-eyed at the small child as their shock rippled through their ranks.
Hailon hastily parted the flowers and pulled the child into his arms.
The child nestled against him as though they had been waiting for this very moment.
And the instant their eyes met.
The child burst into tears.
"...."
Hailon froze entirely.
Bewildered and uncertain what to do, he first attempted to wipe away the tears, but found himself unable to move.
The child pounded against his chest with tiny fists, crying uncontrollably.
"Fool! Idiot...!"
Hailon, suddenly cursed at without warning, gazed down at the child in silence.
He watched intently as tears streamed down the child's face—sorrowful, anguished, grief-stricken—before speaking softly.
"...I don't understand why you're doing this."
His large hand gently cradled the child's small cheek.
To the hiccupping child with a flushed face, he offered an apology without knowing why.
"I was wrong."
At that, the child began to cry even harder.
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Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
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