Wendigo (7)

As Azadine began the consecration, a terrifying chill suddenly erupted from the corpse.

“Ugh!”

Antlers, like those of a reindeer, sprouted from the corpse’s head. The body, which had transformed into a Wendigo in an instant, opened its mouth wide, unleashing a piercing frost toward Azadine.

While Azadine hastily used his cloak to block the freezing air, the victim of the human sacrifice—now a Wendigo—charged at him, attempting to gore him with its antlers.

However…

-Thud!

With a light kick, Azadine sent the Wendigo soaring into the air.

“You underestimated me.”

Holding a funeral for a man who had already been sacrificed to a Wendigo was akin to snatching meat from the mouth of a beast.

Even a domesticated dog would bite if one tried to take food from its mouth—let alone a creature that even the Kurt God Tribe had failed to destroy, sealing it away instead.

The sacrificed victim, now a Wendigo, was struck by Azadine’s kick and flung into the icicles hanging from the ceiling.

At that moment, other Wendigos swarmed toward Azadine. The Were-Rats, apostles of Mezerry, and the Spider-Humans, apostles of Atra, had also transformed into Wendigos, blocking his path. Seizing the opportunity, the sacrificial Wendigo attempted to escape through the gap.

“You’re trying to run?”

Azadine swiftly drew his bow and nocked an arrow.

Right in front of him, a spider-like Wendigo extended its many legs in an attempt to ensnare him. But Azadine dodged the attack while keeping his bow ready, loosing an arrow through the opening.

With a sharp whistle cutting through the air, the arrow struck the fleeing victim.

However, Wendigos were undead. Unlike slashes from a sword or blows from a hammer, an arrow piercing their bodies wouldn’t cause significant damage.

And Azadine knew this fact well.

-Boom!

Suddenly, a dazzling flash of light erupted from the arrow, followed by an explosion.

Azadine had wrapped a copy of the Heavenly King’s Book of Truth around the arrow before firing it.

“What kind of absurd….”

Zebec groaned in disbelief.

Azadine had previously used this technique against Ject the Arbiter, but this was the first time Zebec had witnessed it with his own eyes.

For a Holy Knight like him, seeing the sacred Heavenly King’s Book of Truth—a divine covenant of the King’s Church—being used in such a brutish manner was nothing short of appalling.

“Kiieeeek!”

“Kuaaagh!”

The Wendigos let out simultaneous screams as the arrow’s holy power took effect.

“Scott! Open a path!”

“Got it, boss!”

The orc necromancer, Scott, formed a hand seal and assumed a wide stance.

Dark shadows spread from beneath his feet, striking the Wendigos. The fallen Wendigos, previously slain by swords, rose once more, now under Scott’s control, attacking the remaining Wendigos.

“This is a complete disaster!”

Feeling his own path as a Holy Knight becoming increasingly twisted, Zebec slashed through Wendigos unaffected by Scott’s magic while lamenting his fate.

“If your conscience remains untainted, then even if you’re drenched in disgrace, you’re still a noble knight!”

Sir Brand, the Brass Knight, cheered enthusiastically as he swung his poleaxe, smashing Wendigos alongside Zebec.

“I’d love to be free of shame, but my conscience is pricking me.”

While Zebec sighed, Ismail was quietly overwhelmed.

‘A Holy Knight, a necromancer, a senile old man, and a Messenger. How is this absurd team working so well together?’

As Ismail shot arrows into the Wendigos’ knees to slow them down, Zebec and Sir Brand cleared the way through sheer brute force.

Azadine slipped through the gap they had created and caught up to the fleeing victim. The Wendigo, pierced by an arrow wrapped in the Heavenly King’s Book of Truth, struggled to remove it. Each attempt caused pulses of pure white light to emanate from the book, purifying the creature.

Azadine kicked the Wendigo’s legs out from under it, forcing it to kneel. He then pulled another copy of the Heavenly King’s Book of Truth from his robes and pressed it against the Wendigo’s forehead.

As the book’s pages glowed, the Wendigo’s antlers were severed.

“Good!”

“Hurry and consecrate it again!”

At Ismail’s urging, Azadine resumed the consecration.

But at that moment, a deafening roar shook the very earth.

“Oooooohhhh!”

It was not from the smaller Wendigos in the cavern—it was from the main body of the Wendigo, roaming outside in the mist between reality and nightmare, that had let out a cry.

Suddenly, new antlers sprouted from the victim’s head once more. The radiance of the Heavenly King’s Book of Truth flickered intensely, battling to suppress the Wendigo’s evil power.

However, a torrent of malevolent energy and bone-chilling frost poured out from the victim’s body.

“Agh! What the hell is this?!”

Despite wearing protective gear against the cold, frost clung to Azadine’s body.

He pulled out all of his copies of the Heavenly King’s Book of Truth, placing them on the victim and continuing the consecration. But deep down, he knew.

‘Even the Archangels of the Trinity and the light of the Rescue Knights are growing weaker.’

Just as the King’s Church and the Yaegas God Tribe had fallen into corruption and lost their power, the Rescue Knights, who had turned into mere merchants, were also losing their divine strength.

With the Age of Jupiter approaching, the source of all white magic was dwindling—meaning the Rescue Knights were no exception.

Since childhood, Azadine had read the scriptures of the Rescue Knights and believed in their angelic faith.

But he was no fool.

‘Not that I ever had the luxury of being one.’

The Rescue Knights had fallen into corruption, their reputation in shambles. True devotion, virtue, and passion had become mere punchlines. The very power of angelic faith itself was fading—and Azadine could feel it in his own flesh.

The Archangels of the Trinity left behind their promise, ascended, and their bodies turned to stone, sinking beneath the ancient city of the Hubris Peninsula.

The group that gathered to protect that ancient city and fortress, to uphold the teachings and virtues of the Archangels of the Trinity, became known as the Rescue Knights.

However, in the present day, the only ones among the Rescue Knights capable of using white magic were those with some connection to the Yaegas God Tribe… and not a single one wielded their power by upholding virtue.

Just as the descendants of the Yaegas God Tribe—the kings and nobles—betrayed the Light of the Crown and fell into corruption, so too did the Rescue Knights forsake their virtues and become tainted.

As a result, the Archangels of the Trinity lost their power, and prayers or petitions directed at them went unanswered.

But what of it? How could one blame angels who, having exhausted their strength, could no longer provide aid?

The Archangels of the Trinity had already fought for humanity until the very end. To despair because they no longer answered prayers was not the right attitude.

The true posture of angelic faith was…

“Archangels of the Trinity, hear my resolve.”

Azadine once again seized the corpse of the sacrificial victim, surging with the darkness, and called out to the angels.

“When I was at my weakest and most tormented, your stories saved me. I have already been saved, and thus, my faith cannot betray me. I only fear that I might betray my faith!”

Azadine looked up at the sky.

“So I make this vow! I will—”

At that moment, the flickering light of the Heavenly King’s Book of Truth suddenly flared brilliantly—

And pure white wings of light enveloped Azadine.

The Wendigo’s roar abruptly shifted into a scream, and the surrounding Wendigos collapsed one by one, reverting to ordinary corpses.

The antlers that had grown from the sacrificial victim’s body, the thick wire-like fur that had torn through their skin—everything vanished, leaving behind only a pitiable corpse.

“T-The Wendigo disappeared?”

Zebec was stunned by what had just happened before his eyes.

“A miracle!”

Sir Brand spoke the words Zebec could not.

No one among the Rescue Knights had received a response from the angels in recent times.

Yet here and now, Azadine—a member of the Messenger Clan, those deemed soulless heretics—had astonishingly received the angels’ favor.

“A m-miracle…?”

Even witnessing it firsthand, Zebec could not believe it.

There had to be another explanation. Could the Heavenly King’s Book of Truth have caused some unexpected reaction?

After all, Azadine had already used numerous copies of the Heavenly King’s Book of Truth to channel white magic.

But…

No. That was not it.

Even while acknowledging him, he still subconsciously looked down on him. Just because he was from the Messenger Clan, he assumed his faith was lesser than mine. And yet… he just bore witness to a “soulless heretic” becoming a miracle’s saint?!

If he told anyone about this, they would think him mad.

“My god… Captain, what the hell did you just do?”

At the very moment the angelic wings manifested before Azadine, Scott felt his necromantic spells unravel completely.

Such an overwhelmingly sacred and powerful force—it was undoubtedly a miracle.

People would surely be moved. After all, this was proof that a great, benevolent existence truly watched over them.

But Scott remained pragmatic.

“Making a promise to the angels is more dangerous than a contract with a demon. Most fools don’t realize that. They think angels are inherently good and won’t enforce their deals strictly, but magic is always ruthless. Both magic and miracles are harsher debt collectors than any usurer.”

Scott had realized that the miracle Azadine had invoked must have come at a tremendous cost.

“Doesn’t matter. Right now, I’m just happy the Wendigo is gone.”

“Captain. What did you offer? What promise did you make?”

“Even if I told you, you wouldn’t believe me. More importantly… hmm.”

Despite trembling from the cold, Azadine removed his cloak and wrapped it around the victim’s body.

“Let’s return to the surface.”

The one at the center of this miracle, Azadine, acted as if nothing had happened, casually retrieving the copies of the Heavenly King’s Book of Truth and hoisting the Wendigo’s sacrifice onto his back.

“A miracle, huh. Unbelievable. So angelic faith is… real.”

Ismail felt an indescribable sensation.

Was this simply an illusion born from the white magic of the Heavenly King’s Book of Truth? Or was this truly an angelic miracle?

If it was the latter… Azadine deserved to be recognized as the saint of the Rescue Knights.

Yet, how could someone from the Messenger Clan—the so-called “soulless heretics”—become a living witness, the embodiment of a miracle?

Even more so, how could it be Azadine the Disgraced—a man even shunned among his own people, the Aragasa?