"May the Lord guide your wicked soul to repent in purgatory." Yabin recited the prayer with a gesture of a cross over his chest. The bloodshot rage and killing intent in his eyes dissipated as he looked down at the severed head of the Bishop and his lifeless, crumpled body. His voice and expression were those of a devout follower, filled with solemnity and piety.
Though raised under the guidance of Relas, who always hoped he would become a devout believer, Yabin himself never truly was. Even when he witnessed Relas invoke divine protection, summoning a brilliant light across the heavens in the wild highlands, he was not moved to believe in miracles. To him, it was not God who saved him but his grandfather. Yet, from then on, his demeanor and actions mirrored those of a devout believer—or, more accurately, those of Relas himself. In his heart, there was no God, only man.
At that moment, there was neither God nor man in Talice' heart. Everything before her seemed illusory, as if she had suddenly plunged into an utterly unbelievable and incomprehensible world. Aescher's severed head rolled to her feet, yet she refused to believe it. This was Aescher, the great archmage whose name struck awe across the continent, a figure as renowned as the Pope himself. And yet, his head had been severed—not by anyone else, but by Yabin, the very man she had brought with her.
She turned to Yabin with a dazed and disoriented gaze, as though seeking an explanation, though her mind still could not reconcile the reality before her eyes.
Yabin hesitated, opening his mouth as if to speak but unsure of what to say. He knew that any explanation now was futile. The scene before them was shocking enough, and the truth behind it would be impossible for anyone, let alone Talice, to believe.
"Bishop!" The guards behind Talice cried out in horror at the sight before them, snapping her out of her daze. She suddenly remembered her duty as a Temple Knight. No matter what, she should be arresting the perpetrator instead of standing in stunned silence.
But that moment of hesitation at the door had given Asa enough time. The doorway wasn't particularly wide, and Talice inadvertently blocked the guards for a brief instant.
With Aescher dead, the mind magic suppressing Asa had dissipated entirely. Though still present in his body, it no longer held any effect. Apart from his broken arm and two fractured ribs, he was otherwise fine—or at least, fine enough to act. He reached into his pocket, took out a seed, and brushed it against his bloodied lips before channeling almost all his magic into it and tossing it at Talice' feet.
The seed was one of several magical items given to him by Elder Lloyd in the Turaleone Forest. While these items were typically activated by the natural magic of elves, Elder Lloyd had explained that Asa's life force, enriched by the World Tree's leaves, could yield an even greater effect.
As soon as the seed hit the ground, it exploded—or, more accurately, it grew. However, the growth was so rapid that it resembled an explosion. In the blink of an eye, the tiny seed swelled into a mass of thick thorns, which rooted into the floor and continued to grow explosively. In moments, a dense wall of brambles blocked the doorway, even pushing Talice and the guards back several steps.
The brambles didn't just block the doorway; they continued to grow at an astonishing speed, quickly engulfing the Bishop's corpse. Yabin had to step back, scooping up Ayime from the wall.
Asa couldn't help but smile bitterly at the wildly growing brambles. He hadn't expected the barrier to be so effective. His knife was still embedded in the Bishop's body, but retrieving it now seemed impossible. Worse, he hadn't yet learned how to control the magic. At this rate, the brambles would overrun the entire room in seconds. He hurried over to dispel the paralysis spell on Jessica.
The brambles had grown so thick that Talice and the guards were no longer visible. Only their shouts and the sound of swords hacking at the thorns could be heard. Yet the brambles were extraordinarily resilient, growing even faster than the enchanted blades could cut through them.
"In this situation, no explanation will help. You should come with me. I'll find a way to heal your sister," Asa said, turning to Yabin, who was holding his unconscious sister.
"To where?" Yabin smiled bitterly. Outside, the storm still raged, and the shouts of temple guards echoed as they gathered outside. These were not ordinary soldiers but highly trained Temple Guards, their skill evident in how quickly they had organized. Escaping alone might still be possible, but carrying Ayime made it almost impossible. Yabin sighed. "You should leave. There's still time."
Asa smiled, pulling four scrolls from his pocket. He handed one to Jessica and two to Yabin. "These were originally prepared for Hilton and Anderson. Looks like they'll have to make their way to Orford themselves."
Hearing the name "Orford," Yabin hesitated briefly before sighing in resignation. Under these circumstances, he had no choice. Whether it was Orford or some other treacherous path, he had to take it.
The brambles continued to grow uncontrollably, but the sound of swords hacking at them suddenly stopped. Asa's expression changed. Though he couldn't immediately discern what this meant, he was sure it wasn't good. "Hurry!" he urged Jessica and Yabin.
Each scroll could only transport one person. Yabin quickly handed one to Ayime, helping her activate it. Jessica activated her scroll as well, their bodies enveloped in blue teleportation light before disappearing.
Only after their figures had completely vanished did Asa and Yabin unfurl their own scrolls.
The time between unfurling a scroll and completing the teleportation was no more than two or three seconds—about the time it takes for a single breath, a blink, or a sneeze. From the moment Jessica and Ayime vanished to when Asa and Yabin activated their scrolls, it was only a fleeting instant.
As Asa and Yabin activated their scrolls, the blue light began to envelop them. In theory, the next moment would see them leaving this blood-soaked room filled with the sounds of thunder and rain. It was just a matter of seconds—an instant, really. Yet, because of this slight delay, the outcome was drastically different.
As the blue light began to shimmer around them, the walls on either side of the room were suddenly smashed through. Two figures burst through with swords blazing with concentrated combat aura, aiming straight for the two in the teleportation glow.
Even after breaking through the walls, the sword strikes were as swift as lightning and executed with unmatched precision.
Teleportation magic could transport a person away, but it wasn't foolproof. During the activation, the caster couldn't perform any other magic, nor could they move significantly. Any disruption to the teleportation array would destabilize the spell, causing it to dissipate—something any knowledgeable mage would understand.
The two swordsmen were elderly, likely nearing their sixties, but their presence was no less intimidating. They were undoubtedly Aescher's bodyguards, retired Holy Warriors from Celeste. Though their bodies no longer had the vigor of youth, their skill and experience were honed to perfection. As they broke through the walls, they immediately recognized the glow of teleportation magic around their targets. Without hesitation, they launched all-out, do-or-die strikes.
If it were only these two warriors, Asa and Yabin might have stood a chance. But with the teleportation scrolls already in motion, any attempt to dodge or defend would cancel the spell, leaving them stranded in a room where reinforcements were undoubtedly closing in.
Yet, if they didn't move, even if the teleportation succeeded, what would arrive in Orford would be nothing but their corpses. For two warriors who had survived decades of battlefield slaughter, taking down two motionless targets was as easy as peeling an apple.
Asa sighed inwardly. He moved. The teleportation glow around him immediately dissipated as he shifted, and he reached out to press Yabin's shoulder. "Don't move."
Yabin's body trembled slightly but ultimately remained still. The magical glow surrounding him grew brighter, undisturbed.
Asa's movement caused one of the warriors' blades to graze across his back, leaving a deep gash that spilled blood but avoided any vital areas. At the same time, Asa deflected the strike aimed at Yabin, his combat aura condensing into his palm.
That brief moment was enough for Yabin's teleportation spell to fully activate. He looked at Asa one last time, his expression a mix of complex emotions—gratitude chief among them—before his figure vanished completely.
Asa let out a bitter smile. This was, after all, a choice forced by circumstance. He could block the blow for Yabin, but Yabin might not have been able—or willing—to do the same for him. Since he had to move anyway, he figured he might as well help Yabin.
Blocking those two strikes had taken nearly all of Asa's strength. With one arm rendered useless and his ribcage already fractured, even the slightest movement sent searing pain through his chest. Despite the healing magic earlier, his injuries left him in a precarious state.
The two veteran Holy Warriors didn't press their attack. Instead, they stepped back cautiously, their swords raised defensively. Their seasoned experience gave them patience—they understood the situation perfectly. Asa was a cornered beast, and there was no need to risk further confrontation. All they needed to do was ensure he couldn't use another teleportation scroll, assuming he had one left.
Their composure was as daunting as their skill. Asa remained still, his breathing heavy as blood trickled down his back. He could feel the oppressive weight of the warriors' gaze, knowing full well they were simply biding their time to ensure his capture—or death.