Chapter 75…
The sacred flame burned unceasingly.
Inside Dante’s body.
Along the blade of Arpeon.
And within the slash that split space itself.
That power, which burned away all things unclean, radiated overwhelming pressure as it collided with Lucia.
Kagagagagagagak—!
A shrieking metallic sound, sharp enough to tear eardrums, rang out.
A sword strike that seemed capable of cutting down everything in its path—yet, shockingly, Dante’s blade stopped midway.
It was blocked—by Lucia’s crimson wings.
Dante’s expression hardened.
Could it be that even this sacred flame, which had severed the flesh of Erebos, could not work against her?
But rather than hot anger, it was cold reason that ruled Dante’s mind.
‘That would be troublesome.’
The power radiating from Lucia was by no means weak.
Even in his past life, Dante had seen a being similar to her.
With a single flap of its wings, thousands of soldiers vanished.
With a laugh, the spears it unleashed skewered hundreds of knights.
A calamity upon the battlefield.
Even compared to Erebos—the most powerful existence Dante had fought so far—Lucia would not fall much short.
‘And this time, Princess Isabella isn’t here.’
Unlike at the Murosdia Mountains, Dante’s entire force now consisted only of Acracion.
Meaning—they lacked the strength to defeat Lucia.
Especially now, when even the sacred flame was not working as intended.
“…So this is the power. The remnant of a dead god you obtained at Mount Kalrotes.”
Lucia whispered softly.
‘So she knew after all?’
When Dante had obtained the sacred flame, there had been many witnesses.
Not only Milleon, Elaine, and Patrick—
but also twenty soldiers and the herbalist Fran.
Though they hadn’t descended into the pit, their vantage point had been more than enough to watch Dante’s situation unfold.
It was inevitable the story would eventually reach Lucia’s ears.
So Dante was not surprised.
But her next words froze his expression.
“Then Erebos’ fall… it wasn’t by the Sword Empress’ power alone, was it?”
“Erebos?”
“Do you know of the Crimson Mother?”
Gasps of unease spread among Acracion.
And Dante was the same.
From an utterly unexpected mouth, in an utterly unexpected moment, he heard a completely unexpected name.
“Sir Dante. It seems…”
At Milleon’s grim tone, Dante gave a short nod.
The Crimson Creed might be an even greater force than he had imagined.
But that was a problem for later.
For now, stopping this thing that had shed its humanity was the priority.
If they failed to hold her here, then—just as she had declared—Lucia would annihilate every living soul in the Marquisate.
That could never be allowed.
“Seems we both have plenty of questions. Let’s finish this fight quickly.”
Spreading her wings wide, Lucia gave no sign of dragging the fight out.
“These wings are woven from countless lives and blood. Do you truly think remnants of some long-dead god could pierce them?”
She flapped them a few times in ecstasy, then spread them toward Dante.
Pabababababat—!
Again, countless crimson spears rained down.
“Hold the line! Sir Milleon, left flank! Sir Elaine, right flank! Sir Zeke, the front!”
Acracion’s swords flowed seamlessly together, like water forming a single current.
Jjeooooong—!
Hundreds of massive spears clashed against that current, only to ricochet away in all directions.
“Assume the opponent is Erebos-class. Resume engagement.”
No further instructions were needed.
With a mere glance or shift of expression, they understood one another.
The bond of Acracion was so deep that even without words, each knight knew what to do.
“Three seconds.”
Two. One.
“Now.”
“Haaaahhh—!”
All of their traits bloomed at once.
This was not an enemy they could defeat with mere enchanted sword swings.
Though fatigued, they had no choice but to unleash their full power.
Thankfully, every knight of Acracion opened their traits together.
And the vast power erupted at once.
The tempest of pure wind.
The blaze of extreme heat.
The shimmer of a rainbow.
The gentle glow of moonlight.
Ten different traits—yet the will within them was one.
To cut down Lucia.
Kuwaaaaaaaang—!
The ground ruptured, the air tore, space itself warped.
Acracion’s ten traits interlocked, filling one another’s gaps, and hurtled toward Lucia.
“Impressive… but still.”
Even against that overwhelming force, Lucia smiled, bringing both wings forward.
Jjeojeong, jjeojeojeojeong—!
Each blow could split mountains and cleave seas.
Yet Lucia endured them.
Her wings took damage, yes—but considering Acracion’s combined might, it was as if she had suffered nothing at all.
“With just this? You’ll never wound me.”
Her voice dripped with mockery and scorn.
That was when Dante moved.
Condensing—
Every shred of mana and sacred flame within him, compressed into a speck smaller than a grain of rice.
It became a tiny white flame, which he drove straight toward Lucia.
Kwaaaaang—!
Lucia’s eyes widened in shock.
The wings that had held off Acracion began to tremble.
Her instincts screamed at her.
If that tiny flame touched her—
inescapable death awaited.
Kwagik—!
Cracks spread like a spiderweb from beneath Dante’s foot.
The air boiled, and the white flame shining at Arpeon’s tip gleamed like a star.
“Acracion!”
At Dante’s shout, the knights instantly shifted their attacks.
Left to right.
Right to left.
Lucia’s wings, which had been blocking the front, were forced open to either side.
Through the gap, her wide-eyed face was laid bare.
Without hesitation, Dante thrust Arpeon straight at her brow.
In that instant—
Crimson mana burst from Lucia as well.
Sensing the mortal strike, she poured her power into her wings, forcing them shut again.
Kuwaaaaaaang—!
An explosion.
A spark became a sun devouring the mountains.
The sacred flame from Arpeon tore through crimson mana, pierced space, and crushed Lucia’s wings.
Kwaduduk—!
One wing of crimson hands shattered into pieces.
The severed hands ignited in flame, reduced to ash.
For the first time, Lucia’s expression twisted.
Again. And again.
She had to raise her estimation of Dante once more.
Finally, fear surfaced on her face.
A mere boy of fifteen.
Even if born with transcendent talent, he was still five years from adulthood—yet his sword…
“You dare shatter His power?”
Grit—!
Lucia ground her teeth.
Fear welled up, but greater still were rage and humiliation.
“I’ll sever your head and hang it here. So when your father returns, he may despair.”
A vile curse.
Yet Dante remained calm.
Would his father truly despair at such a sight?
He thought, rather, that uncontrollable fury would sweep the continent.
Even exhausted, Dante pictured his father’s emotionless face—
and let out a dry laugh.
“…Very well. Let’s see how long you keep laughing.”
Lucia hardened her expression and raised both hands high.
“Behold His true power. And regret your folly as you confess your sins in bloo—…?”
Her curse stopped mid-sentence.
The flow of air ceased.
A suffocating silence fell, as though all had frozen by command.
Dagudak—.
Hooves struck softly against the earth, breaking the silence.
Lucia swallowed dryly, slowly turning her head toward the sound.
Her eyes went wide.
Someone who should not be here was standing there.
“Y-you…”
A worn brown coat.
A sword at his hip.
Eyes devoid of all emotion.
The Empire’s Sword—Zenon Aquites.
It was him.
“Quite the amusing scene.”
Still seated on his horse, he surveyed the ruins where his mansion had stood.
The collapsed debris, the corpses strewn about.
After a moment, his gaze shifted—to Dante.
“It’s been a while.”
With those dry words, time began flowing again.
“…Father.”
Dante let out a strained laugh.
How was he already here?
By his reckoning, at least ten days should have remained.
Though he could not understand it, relief washed over him.
“We’ll speak in detail shortly.”
Zenon gave a brief nod toward Acracion, then finally—
“Lucia.”
His voice reached her.
Flinch—!
Her eyes darted about.
Just as Dante hadn’t expected this, neither had she.
“T-this is…”
She tried to fumble for an excuse, but Zenon shook his head.
“I have no words for a cult’s lackey.”
Clang—.
The sword that had long slumbered quietly—Arcane—was drawn.
Shhhhhh—.
A slash too fast for light, shadow, or even Dante’s eyes to follow.
From the crown of Lucia’s head to her groin, a perfect straight cut was carved.
“A-ah…”
As the belated wind brushed past, her body split into two.
“His descent… will…”
Lucia could not even finish her words.
She collapsed, halved, onto the ground.
