Chapter 77

Chapter 77

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]

Chapter 77: Night Hunter (3)

The door to the mansion swung open. Surprisingly, there was no one on the other end. Only a statue, from which the presumed Saint Dolores’ voice could be heard, was present.

“For what purpose have you come to see me?” The voice of the person presumed to be Saint Dolores came from the statue’s mouth.

It seemed that she wouldn’t meet Vikir directly.

“...Well, that’s only natural,” Vikir thought. His attire right now was suspicious to anyone’s eyes—a large hat that pirates or criminals might wear, a bird-shaped gas mask, and a black cloak that covered his entire body.

It was only natural that Saint Dolores wouldn’t meet him in person. Vikir approached the statue and said, “I came to report an epidemic in the slums.”

After finishing speaking, Vikir extended a cup filled with water imbued with the aura of the “Red Death.” If she was a priestess, she would be able to sense the unique energy emanating from this water.

Momentarily, the voice coming from the statue stopped.

Vikir had a hunch. The Saint had ceased sending her voice through the statue.

And then...

Thud!

The door behind Vikir closed. But that wasn’t all.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

The doors on the front and sides began to close one by one. The main hall’s lobby was instantly isolated, transforming into a shape reminiscent of a gladiator arena.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

From somewhere, heavily armored holy knights emerged onto the terrace on the second floor. They stood in formation, wearing white armor.

“...”

Vikir took a look around. Despite serving as a lobby and reception area, it was designed to transform into a battlefield during emergencies. In reality, all five doors and corridors were closed, and a cordon was established above by waiting holy knights.

Various statues were placed in hidden corners, offering no concealment. Once trapped here, there was no escape, and the only option was to await judgment.

“...”

However, Vikir remained silent, showing no particular reaction. It seemed as though he had already expected such a response.

Just then, a deep voice came from among the statues on the first floor. It was the only open door. A man walked into the square beyond it.

With a height of over two meters, disfigured facial scars, a bald head, and a completely white outfit that covered his entire body, he was a distinctive figure. He had no discernible eyebrows, a massive nose, and a large mouth.

Although his eyes curved softly as if he were smiling, his overall aura was quite rough. He carried a large book that resembled a sacred text in his arms.

Vikir narrowed his eyes behind the gas mask. “...Inquisitor Mozgus. It’s been a while.”

Mozgus QuoVadis. He had quite a complicated connection with Vikir before his regression. He was a man who often had Vikir’s back on the battlefield against demons.

His body was like a log, impervious, and the divine power he radiated illuminated the surroundings like a beacon. He never compromised with injustice, and for the sake of justice, he was sometimes more ruthless than demons.

Seeing his old comrade who had valiantly fought and fallen in battle against hundreds of demons during the Great War, Vikir felt a sense of nostalgia.

“Come to think of it, I learned some torture techniques from this guy,” Vikir thought. Memories of his days torturing the young masters of the Seven Families in the Underdog City came flooding back.

However, those ‘beautiful’ memories belonged to Vikir alone. For Mozgus, this was his first time seeing Vikir in this life. He held up a thick Bible-like scripture and said to Vikir, “Your attire is suspicious for someone who claims to have come to report an epidemic in the slums. Until you remove that mask and show proper respect, you will not meet the Saint.”

“I can’t take off the gas mask for reasons. My mission is complete since I’ve reported it. I’ll be on my way.”

Vikir placed the cup filled with the “Red Death” on the floor and raised both arms to signal his surrender. Then, in a slow backstep, he muttered, “Heretic!”

Mozgus rushed forward, wielding his heavy scripture like a deadly weapon, attempting to strike Vikir down. However, Vikir was quicker.

In the blink of an eye, Vikir exploited the moment when the book was raised, slipping through the gap and swiftly maneuvering to Mozgus’s side.

Crack!

As Mozgus brought down the book, a deep crack appeared in the floor where it struck.

Vikir focused on the white auras emanating from the edges of the pages of Mozgus’s holy book. “A book, huh? He still wields a unique weapon. I’d say he’s at an advanced level, around a Middle Tier Graduator.”

Compared to his former self before regression, Mozgus was about half a rank lower in skill. However, considering that this place was Mozgus’s ancestral home and possessed the holy power that could heal him, they were nearly evenly matched.

Mozgus, observing Vikir’s stance, growled softly, “You, the impious one!”

“The malevolent aura in that cup is palpable. If that is indeed the plague, you might be the one who spread it.”

“If I were the culprit, why would I come here to report it?”

“I don’t know. You may be trying to deceive us, or it could be a plot to lure the Saint out using this as bait.”

Since what Mozgus said made sense, Vikir just shrugged. “I only came to report strange individuals spreading the plague in the slums.”

“Your attire is the most suspicious thing here. Your statement will be heard later, in the prison.”

After finishing his statement, Mozgus swung his book.

Parararak-

The book unfolded, and its white pages flipped over with a loud noise. Simultaneously, the white auras emanating from the edges of the pages lashed out at Vikir.

“Have you ever been cut by stiff paper? It hurts a lot.”

Mozgus used a unique and extraordinary attack style, slicing the sharp edges of the holy book’s pages with the aura attached.

Qua-Qua-Quack!

Statues struck by the pages, hundreds in number, scattered in all directions. However, Vikir skillfully evaded Mozgus’s attacks, moving like a shadow.

The Bible spun and flew towards Mozgus.

Just as Mozgus was about to turn his head to avoid the Bible.

“...!”

He had to doubt his own eyes.

The Bible, which had been in front of him just a moment ago, now disappeared from his sight as it appeared to be a thin line horizontally.

‘Where did it go?’

His whole body shivered. Cold sweat ran through the chills that had crept between his hair.

Suddenly, a whisper, like a ghost’s voice, echoed in his ears.

“...Are you looking for me?”

In that brief moment when the book was spinning and flying, surprisingly, Vikir had escaped Mozgus’s sight and was now behind him.

When Mozgus turned around in astonishment.

...Crash!

Vikir’s aura struck Mozgus’s entire body.

Like a hammer, Vikir’s aura, which whirled and flew, shattered Mozgus’s full-body armor like grains of sand, and even the chainmail he wore underneath was crushed.

Crackle! Clang!

Mozgus broke three statues behind him and fell down.

The Holy Knights on the second-floor terrace were left speechless at this shocking result.

It was the first time they had seen Mozgus Quovadis, the Inquisitor-General and Archbishop of Quovadis, who led the Inquisition Knights, being defeated so effortlessly.

“Am I dreaming right now?”

“Mozgus has been defeated?”

“This can’t be true! How could this happen...!”

But their hesitation was brief, and like the elite warriors of Quovadis, they all drew their swords and rushed down to the first floor.

“Capture that blasphemous one!”

White auras began to emerge from various places.

Vikir adjusted the gas mask covering his face.

“Dealing with lost lambs can be quite dangerous.”

The Holy Knights who had jumped down from the second floor had completely surrounded them by now.

Furthermore.

Guguguguk-

Behind him, amidst the debris of broken statues, Mozgus rose to his feet, his giant body.

He had torn off and discarded all the shattered and twisted armor, and now he firmly held a large statue fragment in both hands.

Blood was flowing from all over his body, but he seemed to pay no attention to it at all.

“If you want to see the end for real.”

Vikir drew Beelzebub.

The Gooey Liquid Aura that proved his Top Tier Graduator status boiled and seethed on the blade.

The overwhelming force emanating from Vikir, similar to a black ghost, made all the Holy Knights, including Mozgus, tense up.

They couldn’t close their eyes or swallow their saliva.

Even the slightest, the tiniest gap in defense would be the black ghost’s chance to aim for their throat and heart.

‘Where on earth did such a monster come from...?’

Mozgus regretted his hasty actions and adjusted his posture.

One-on-one, it was inevitable that he would lose (certain defeat).

One-on-many, it was a fifty-fifty (half and half) situation.

The opponent was an existence that even all the Holy Knights here could not completely overwhelm, even if they all attacked together.

If it had been his usual self, he would have taken a step back first and then officially declared the Holy War...

‘But the Holy Maiden is here.’

It was too risky to move recklessly.

While Vikir, Mozgus, and the other Holy Knights were in a tense standoff.

“...Stop!”

A voice that dispelled everyone’s tension could be heard.

Before long, someone leaned out from the third-floor terrace.

Dolores, the Holy Maiden, had revealed herself.

[Translator – Clara]

[Proofreader – Lucky]