Chapter 155: Zagoras and Echis (5)

A saint’s knight left the saint while Zagoras men were charging at her.

It was only when they were about to strike that Bernice moved.

First, a sword is brought to her throat but Bernice swatted it away with the back of her hand.

Even though her hand was bare and unprotected by any kind of armor, a clear sound rang out as if hard metal was colliding with hard metal.

“Uh…?”

The view of the member with the sword rotated and flipped.

Bernice blocked all the incoming attacks and the other members’ vision flipped as well.

In an instant, the four Templars were on the ground after Bernice parried their attacks.

They were dazed and unable to speak but now understood why Ines hadn’t protected her.

The saint was not weak in close combat so she didn’t need to be protected.

She had the ability to strengthen her body with divine power.

Strengthening one’s body with mana was a simple skill that even a five-year-old child with more talent than his peers could perform, but divine power was a different story.

It was a different category of physical enhancement than normal physical enhancement and there were people in the Holy Land who studied this technique exclusively so they had no need for weapons.

One of the members who had fallen to the ground and was making pained noises knew the name of the technique.

“Divine Martial Arts…?”

A martial art that is said to have few heirs, as it is difficult to even reach the point of strengthening the body with divine power.

A saint who was capable of martial arts was unprecedented in the history of the kingdom.

Bernice was chosen by Henrys to become a saint after the death of the previous saint in the war.

Her faith is sound, her disposition unblemished, and her character virtuous. However, there was a major difference between Bernice and the other saints.

Bernice was naturally gifted in combat.

She was able to master the Divine Martial Arts, which was said to be extremely difficult and arduous to learn, in just over a month after becoming the Saint.

For this reason, the teacher who taught her the Divine Martial Arts dislikes her.

Bernice had been called many harsh words during her training, such as “unpleasant,” but to her, who was able to distinguish truth from falsehood, they were merely a term of endearment from her shy teacher.

Lying on the ground, the knights slowly lowered the weapons in their hands. It was a sign of surrender and abandonment.

How could they face a saint who had learned divine martial arts?

‘At least she doesn’t kill humans, though if we’re unlucky enough to be executed…’

The members thought that prison was better than death.

“…”

There was still anger in Bernice’s pink eyes as she looked down at them, but they had no idea as she was used to hiding her negative emotions due to her inability to tell a lie.

After dusting off her hands, Bernice spoke.

“Humans are not harmed by divine power. Even a ‘saint’ would not kill a ‘human’. Isn’t that why you ran at me?”

“”……””

Bernice saw right through them since she could read intentions in people’s actions.

This was partly due to the powers granted to her by the gods, and partly due to her own sixth sense.

Zetto was probably the only human she couldn’t see through.

“You’re right, I don’t kill humans with my hands, I was lucky enough to be chosen by the gods, so how can I use this body to take the life of a human, a creature of the gods.”

At the saint’s next words, some of the members of the troupe who had been lying on the floor, who had not been paying attention, breathed a sigh of relief.

Bernice smiled unperturbed since it was the reaction she wanted and moved in front of the sighing knight.

“…”

He was about to open his mouth to apologize, his voice thick with embarrassment but Bernice slammed her fist down in one swift motion, crushing his helmet.

-Crack!!!

The hard golden helmet made a strange sound, as if soft tofu was being crushed.

Indeed, his head is completely crushed inside the helmet, and fresh blood spurts out through the eye sockets.

“…But I don’t see ‘humans’ in your eyes, you’re just scum who sold your souls to demons, which is pretty far from ‘human’, don’t you think?”

Bernice said, nonchalantly raising her blood-dripping fist.

She had taken from them the vain hope that they would live.

The hopes of the world had been destroyed by them, and now she was giving them back.

Slowly and dutifully, Bernice cleared the floor of the ‘junk’.

-Poof!!!

Without much resistance, the last helmet was crushed and Bernice wiped the blood from her face then turned her head and caught a glimpse of Inés battling Zagoras in the distance.

‘Ines aside, what’s wrong with Delion?’

Bernice asks, since it’s clear that they’re both doing just fine.

Zagoras was not displaying his power.

Or, more accurately, he was conserving it.

As they clashed swords, he glanced at Saint Bernice, and the sight of his men dying convinced him that an all-out fight with her was inevitable.

‘So, she’s not even human, is she? It’s not unreasonable to think so.’

That’s right.

Killing the previous saint had been a gamble based on her own weakness.

There was no way he could have devised a plan in such a short amount of time that would have been able to deal with the Saint that had struck without warning.

When Zagoras realized that Bernice was closing in on him, he stopped swinging his sword and Inés, who had been fighting him, lowered her sword in response.

“…So this is what it comes down to.”

Zagora muttered to himself as Ines stood before him, shaking her head.

There was no regret.

There was nothing to regret.

It was for the best, and now the time had come to gamble with his life.

Zagora sheathed the sword in his hand, casually shrugging off the burden.

The Templars thought, “Is he surrendering?” but Ines could see through it.

“You’re not a swordsman after all.”

“Is it so obvious? I’ve been training hard for years, and it’s a shame.”

“Your poor swordsmanship had me doubting the quality of the Kingdom of Terracia for a moment.”

“No, I’m afraid Terracia is indeed poor, with a few exceptions. Though even those few seem to be hiding their fangs from you noble fools.”

“You’re an odd one, and from the looks of you, I don’t think there’s any truth to that…”

While Inés and Zagoras are having this conversation, Bernice joins them.

“…I’m very late, I apologize.”

Bernice’s voice immediately follows.

It is not directed at Inés, nor is it directed at Zagoras.

It was an apology to those whose lives Zagora had taken, who were already trapped in those black horns and had become magick.

Bernice closed her eyes for a moment and prayed, honoring them and when she caught her breath, she opened her eyes.

“What’s your name?”

Bernice’s expression changed, and she no longer tried to hide her emotions.

Zagoras eyes flickered as she asked a strange question.

Zagora glimpsed a glimmer of his life but Bernice wasn’t looking for Delion, she was referring to Zagoras, the demon.

‘Just for scattering life…’

Zagoras realized he was doomed.

There would be no all-out fight since the gulf between them was too stark to hope for something like that.

The corners of his mouth lifted at the absurdity of his thoughts and Zagoras answered.

“It is Zagoras. Remember that. I will kill you…!”

I, Zagoras, will survive.

He was about to make that declaration.

“Divine Martial Art Thirteen…”

But Bernice, who interrupted Zagoras as she knew his name, whispered in his ear and sucked in a breath.

-Aaah!

The sound of air being torn apart pierces his ears, and Bernice disappears from Zagoras view for an instant.

Zagoras, who had been shielding himself with layers of magick, doubted his eyes.

In the next instant, Bernice was tearing through his shields.

“…Condemned.”

Bernice’s voice was raspy and knotted as her hand clutched Zagoras torn throat.

For the sins Zagoras had committed, she had ripped his throat out but no one dared to call Zagoras weak when his head was torn off in such a quick, almost futile manner.

Would this be enough atonement?

Bernice, looking at Zagoras horrified face, did not think so.

At first, she had simply thought to ease Zetto’s burden, for it was her role to kill demons.

She had only reached out to Zagoras for that reason.

It occurred to her that if it hadn’t been for Zetto, she would have been blissfully unaware that such a terrible thing was happening, and she realized that perhaps penance was in order.

Bernice was only an agent of God.

Not perfect.

Not omnipotent.

She knew this, but she was not satisfied.

That was what made her a Saint.

Then, when the dust had settled and the corpses were being removed, Bernice, who had been staring at Zagoras neck, made an “ah” sound and pulled something out of her bosom.

It was a small, round, translucent object, a portable crystal ball.

“…Are you sleeping, or not… Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”

For some reason, she felt like if she reached out to Zetto now, she would hear his voice immediately.

‘I told him to get some rest, but… I don’t think he’s doing that…’

Still, I’m glad it was done quickly enough that I can still look forward to hearing his voice.

Bernice smiled faintly as she tapped her crystal ball to visualize Zetto in her mind.