Chapter 747

Chapter 747

Impressive, truly impressive. (1)

Kwaang! Kwaang! Kwaaaang!

Kraaaagh!

The Orc formation quickly collapsed.

Ilaniel swept through the Orcs at the forefront without hesitation, followed closely by the Elf Elders.

The Elves, whose morale was already sky-high, surged forward like a fierce wave. The Orcs were too powerless to withstand them.

In terror and confusion, the Orcs fell without mounting a proper resistance.

From afar, Apostle Rahmod and Munaref watched the scene unfold.

"……Prophet. What should we do now?"

"……."

Even at Munaref's question, Apostle Rahmod continued to gaze at the battlefield.

His mind was a tangled mess.

'I wonder if this was the right choice.'

Regret welled up inside him. To withdraw just before fulfilling the Church's long-cherished desire was unbearably painful.

And so, he kept watching, hoping that perhaps Ilaniel could still be killed.

Ilaniel was exerting exactly the amount of power Apostle Rahmod had anticipated. It was difficult to tell whether this was bravado or not.

'Just a little more…….'

Ilaniel had already expended a great deal of energy. If even he had taken such an attack and suffered severe injuries, he would not have been able to fight properly.

Yet that intense divine power still concerned him. The darkness he had left behind might have vanished before it could even sap Ilaniel's energy.

If she was not bluffing, then facing the combined assault of Ilaniel and the Elf Elders with just Munaref and himself would be a daunting task.

To confirm this, Apostle Rahmod observed Ilaniel a bit longer.

Kwaaaang!

Ilaniel still appeared unscathed. Moving like the wind, she effortlessly swept through the Orc horde.

The Orcs were well aware of just how dangerous she was.

At last, the Orcs' Great Chieftain, Grakkash, stepped forward.

Kraaaagh!

The largest and strongest of the Orcs.

Grakkash was an Orc who had awakened the savage power of his instincts through countless acts of slaughter.

The scars engraved across his red flesh like tattoos starkly displayed his ferocity.

Kuung! Kuung! Kuung!

Grakkash charged toward Ilaniel with a roar of rage.

The force emanating from his massive frame seemed capable of toppling mountains.

His bulging muscles rippled beneath his crimson skin. In his hand, he wielded a colossal axe that could easily tear two men apart.

With each heavy step Grakkash took, the ground trembled.

Kraaaagh!

Grakkash leapt like a wild beast and swung his axe.

Kwaang!

With a tremendous crash, the ground split apart. But Ilaniel had already slipped out of the axe's path.

Without hesitation, Grakkash swung his axe wide once more.

Buuuuuung!

Again, the attack failed. The axe could not keep up with Ilaniel, who moved as lightly as a feather.

Kraaaagh!

Enraged, Grakkash swung his axe with all his might.

Even a Transcendent would have been split apart if struck directly by such a powerful blow.

Kwaaaang!

The surrounding trees trembled as if they would be uprooted, and clouds of dust billowed like a storm.

Krrrrr……

Grakkash realized that his attack had failed once again. Acting on instinct, the Orc prepared to swing his axe once more.

But Ilaniel seized that fleeting opening without hesitation.

Pak!

She extended her hand and placed it against Grakkash’s face.

Her slender hand could not even cover half of the massive Orc’s face. Yet even that small touch made Grakkash hesitate to move recklessly.

He merely glared at Ilaniel with bloodshot eyes.

Krrrhhh……

To the heavily panting Grakkash, Ilaniel spoke.

"It was not because we lacked strength that we left you alone."

Kraaaagh!

Just as Grakkash roared and began to raise his arm again—

A brilliant light exploded from Ilaniel’s palm.

Kwaaaang!

With a thunderous boom, Grakkash’s head turned to dust and vanished.

The massive Orc’s headless body soon toppled onto the ground.

Kuuuuung!

Ilaniel’s gaze was already turned away from the fallen Grakkash, looking far into the distance.

Watching the battle, Apostle Rahmod let out a faint sigh.

'I must let go of my lingering attachment.'

It seemed Ilaniel still had strength left to fight. Apostle Rahmod composed himself with a bitter expression.

'There is still an opportunity.'

One must not cling to a failed endeavor. Even if he managed to kill Ilaniel here, he would not escape unscathed himself.

In the end, Apostle Rahmod abandoned the thought of launching another attack and turned away.

"Let’s go."

"Shall we return to the Holy Land?"

"No. I cannot do that after this failure."

"Then where do you intend to go?"

"News of our movements will spread across the continent. Before they can prepare, I intend to assist another Prophet’s work."

Munaref nodded. Once word got out, their schemes would no longer work.

It was better to help an ongoing operation and ensure at least one success.

Without any lingering regrets, Apostle Rahmod and Munaref departed.

There was no one left to aid the Orcs now. Not a single Orc managed to escape, and they were utterly annihilated.

Krrruk……

As the last Orc fell, Osval shouted loudly.

"Uwaaaaah! We won!"

"The demon bastard ran away too!"

"Yaaaaah! Victory!"

The other mercenaries shouted with all their might.

They truly felt as though they had returned from the brink of death. Such was the terror of the display Apostle Rahmod had shown.

Unlike the rejoicing humans, the Elves wore sorrowful expressions. They had lost far too many of their kin in this battle.

Still, everyone felt a sense of relief. Had things gone wrong, they all might have been annihilated here.

Suppressing the blood rising in her throat, Ilaniel opened her mouth.

"……Everyone has done well."

The Elders and Elves bowed their heads slightly. The humans did the same. No one was an exception.

It was a gesture of respect toward the great Elf who had repelled an overwhelming threat.

Ilaniel also lowered her head slightly. It was a gesture of gratitude to the warriors who had stood with her against the darkness.

Victory did not mean the end. Now they had to restore the forest once again.

"Move the wounded quickly. Those who can still move, tend to the others."

At Ilaniel’s command, the Elves began to move in perfect coordination.

The Julien Mercenary Corps was the first to rush toward Ghislain. They all shouted anxiously.

"Deputy Commander!"

"He’s dead, right? He has to be dead."

"I mean, no matter how much of a monster the Deputy Commander is, after all this, it’s only proper that he’d be dead. It’s the law of nature."

Unfortunately(?), Ghislain was not dead. He was being transported on a stretcher, receiving healing from the Elf Elders.

Julien hurried over and asked.

"Ghislain! Are you alright?"

"Ah…… perfectly fine. What about Deneb?"

"Deneb is fine too. Just fainted from overexertion. The Elves are taking care of her now."

"I see…… that’s a relief. We’ll ask her what happened once she wakes up."

Ghislain smiled in satisfaction.

He didn’t know whether Deneb had fully awakened or not. But thanks to Deneb, Ilaniel had recovered, and they had forced Apostle Rahmod to retreat.

It had been nothing short of a miracle.

'Now that’s a Saintess.'

At this rate, Deneb deserved the title of Saintess. There were plenty of witnesses.

Of course, there was still much room for improvement. Ghislain had seen in his dreams just how remarkable Deneb could become.

So, he would need to confirm any connection to the Sacred Stones as well.

As Ghislain smiled even while half-dead, Kyle spoke to him.

"I’ve never seen you take such a beating before. The enemies must have been really strong."

Osval chimed in from the side.

"Manly Osval! It’s the first time I’ve seen you lose, big brother!"

'I could probably take him down right now.'

Osval had a sly thought but dared not show it. Julien and Kyle were still perfectly fine.

At Osval’s words, Ghislain looked at him in disbelief.

"What? Who lost? Didn’t you see them running away? Since they ran, it means I won."

"……."

"I mean, I was fighting while exhausted, right? I’ve never lost a one-on-one fight."

"……Yes."

Osval made a slightly exasperated face. Even half-dead, Ghislain still said such things clearly and confidently.

Sensing that the reaction was a bit lacking, Ghislain picked up a staff lying on the same stretcher. But he had no strength to wield it, so his arm merely trembled as he held it.

"Agh!"
In the end, Ghislain could not hold out and simply lay back down. It stung his pride, but there was nothing he could do at the moment.

Julien and Kyle chuckled softly and shook their heads.

One had to give him credit for that fighting spirit. In other matters, he acted as though he knew nothing of honor, yet when it came to losing a fight, he truly hated it.

Noticing their reactions, Ghislain closed his eyes and murmured.

"It’s not that I hate losing itself. If I lose, a lot of people will die."

Of course, Ghislain had lost before. Back when he was a young mercenary, he had lost countless times and fled even more.

But after regressing, he had become someone who could no longer afford to lose.

Now, he had far too many things he needed to protect.

Of course, even so, he simply disliked losing.

'If it’s a one-on-one fight, I can win them all.'

That resolve had remained unchanged since he became the King of Mercenaries, throughout his regression, and even now in this past era.

His friends, unaware of such inner thoughts, merely thought he was being prideful and shrugged with a smile.

Just as the battlefield was being cleared, a commotion suddenly broke out on one side.

"Great Chieftain!"

Ilaniel had collapsed, coughing up blood.

Ereneth rushed to support her, screaming.

The Elf Elders hurried over and began pouring their energy into Ilaniel. Not knowing the situation, they simply focused on healing her first.

Ilaniel shook her head.

"It’s alright. I am not injured; there is no need to waste your strength."

"W-What happened?"

At an Elder’s question, Ilaniel replied, her voice weary.

"I merely pushed myself a little too hard because Apostle Rahmod was watching."

Only then did the Elves understand her condition.

On her face, which had seemed as if it would remain eternally youthful, faint wrinkles had begun to appear.

Ilaniel had drawn upon her very life force to show that she was still strong.

"……."

The Elves could only hold back tears, unable to say a word.

Life force, once used, could not be restored. It was like a candle burning its own wick to produce light.

In other words, Ilaniel had permanently lost a portion of her power and shortened her lifespan.

Without hesitation, she had burned her own life force to protect the Elves.

Seeing the somber expressions of the Elves, Ilaniel smiled.

"I have lived long enough. And I am not dying right away, so there is no need to worry too much."

"Great Chieftain……."

"Tend to the others first. There is no need to treat me."

At Ilaniel’s command, the Elves wiped their eyes and quietly nodded.

Straightening herself, Ilaniel looked around.

She did not care that her life force had diminished. What pained her far more was the fact that so many Elves had perished.

But what weighed even heavier upon her was the knowledge that the real war was only just beginning.

‘The Salvation Church…….’

They had begun to move. The battles to come would be far greater than anything they had faced so far.

More lives would be lost, and deeper wounds would be left behind.

Thinking of such a future made Ilaniel’s heart ache even more.

In the midst of these thoughts, her mind drifted to the humans who had aided in the battle.

‘Humans sent under the Pope’s orders.’

During the search for the intruders, she had received a report from Sylarn, the Foreign Affairs Officer. He had said that there were humans who had come under the Pope’s orders.

It was not difficult to deduce that the humans who had just helped the Elves were the very ones Sylarn had mentioned.

‘They asked to borrow a Blessing Stone.’

Normally, she would never have agreed to meet anyone who came with such a purpose.

But these were benefactors who had just saved the Elves. She intended to meet them and hear their story first.

She did not yet know who their representative was. Once the fallen priest and Black Mage recovered, she planned to speak with them first, as those two had been the most helpful in this battle.

‘I’ll need to ask why a Black Mage is involved as well.’

That was, in fact, the most baffling part. A Black Mage acting under the Pope’s orders? It was hard to imagine anything more incongruous.

Ilaniel looked around. The humans were working in small groups, helping the Elves.

But one human caught her eye.

‘……Hmm?’

A knight in armor was kneeling on the ground, staring blankly into space.

Unlike the others, he was neither helping clear the battlefield nor tending to the wounded.

He was simply sitting there, completely dazed.

‘I believe his name was…… Lionel.’

She had heard the others call him that in passing. This was the one who had taken the initiative in healing others.

Judging by his use of divine power, he appeared to be a Temple Knight.

If so, it was likely that he had received direct orders from the Pope.

Curious, Ilaniel approached him and asked.

"Is something wrong? If you are unwell, I will help you."

Lionel slowly turned his head, still wearing a dazed expression.

After looking at Ilaniel for a moment, he spoke in a trembling voice.

"M-My divine power……."

"What about your divine power?"

Lionel’s lips quivered, and he whispered as though confessing a deep shame.

"It has…… completely vanished."

At those words, Ilaniel’s eyes widened.

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