Audin was in the middle of helping Roman with his training when he noticed a group of more than a dozen people approaching.

None of them had normal eyes. One had pupils spinning in circles, another had eyes pointing in opposite directions, and several were drooling.

Even so, their presence wasn’t ordinary.

Each of them radiated something resembling pressure, as if they were using Will. However, since it wasn’t refined and instead appeared reckless, it felt inconsistent and off.

'Knights?'

From Audin’s perspective, it was reasonable to have doubts. He only raised a single question mark in his heart, but that was enough.

Knights were those who set vows and upheld convictions. Their mental fortitude was on a different track from that of ordinary people. They weren’t ones to collapse easily.

Then what were these?

They were people whose minds had collapsed, regardless of how strong their bodies were.

That dozen-strong knight-level force charged in all at once. Whether knights or not, they were threatening enemies. Audin responded immediately.

Among those in the battle at the Thornwall Fortress, Audin was one of the least injured. He had been worn out from overusing divine power, but a few days of rest had fully restored him.

In short, his condition wasn’t bad.

“Lord.”

Audin cloaked his whole body in holy radiance as he looked at the approaching figures.

Then, without hesitation, he struck the face of one of them, who came swinging a massive axe.

It was a fist he extended while moving at high speed, his feet shifting for a brief instant. By adding variations in speed, he avoided the enemy’s perception altogether. The opponent couldn’t even think of dodging and had no choice but to take the hit.

Bang!

Crunch.

'Spin the holy light.'

The armor of radiance, Ragna’s blade, the experience he gained by unlocking divine power, the words his adoptive father left before departing—

All of it was condensed and fused together.

Holy power spun around Audin’s fist. He moved the radiance using the principles of a vortex.

It was a truly remarkable technique.

The struck man’s face twisted into a spiral and burst open. Whether helmet or flesh, nothing survived that blow.

Having killed one, Audin’s gaze shifted to the rear of the group of mindless monsters. At the back, he saw someone holding what looked like a flute, smiling with a fishy grin.

The man covered his mouth and brought the flute sideways until it stood vertical with his face. He blew into it.

There was no sound. Instead, the ones in front grew even more enraged.

Beyond the black mist scattering from the shattered head, a spear tip came flying straight at him, followed by two others spreading out from either side with raised blades.

Though they were practically monsters, they charged as if they’d trained to fight in formation.

'If not, then that brother’s flute must be giving them commands.'

That level of tactical judgment was fundamental. And no matter what, the fact remained—they had to be dealt with by force.

Audin stepped back with one foot, raised his left hand like a blade, and swung.

The radiance of his armor gathered at the edge of his hand, taking on the shape of a blade.

One of the attackers, wearing half-rusted brown armor, thrust a spear straight toward him.

Audin’s movement was slightly slower than the enemy’s, but he stepped forward. With that, he dodged the blades flying in from both sides and, at the same time, avoided the thrusting spear with minimal movement—a slight twist of his body. The spearman’s face now entered Audin’s reach.

His movements were like a choreographed sparring match. Audin’s left hand lightly grazed the enemy’s neck.

Slice.

There was barely any sound, but the result was anything but subtle. The rusted helmet bounced into the air with a dull thunk, and black mist gushed from the severed neck like a fountain.

Having taken one down, Audin dodged the axe, the mace, and the sword coming at him, leaping to the side.

His movement drew a long streak in the air, leaving behind a trailing afterimage. The massed enemies followed that line.

Audin’s yellow eyes settled into a cold calm. Gone was the usual warmth and serenity—now, they felt like a bitter wind cutting through.

If one were to ask a priest who they hated most, who would they name?

Cultists? Thieves? Monsters?

No.

Those they most despise are the ones who raise the dead and command them—necromancers. There are only a handful in the world, and they use the souls and bodies of the dead for grotesque acts.

'Why would you keep those who should return to the Lord of Heaven?'

Even part of the reason the Heretic Annihilation Order swore to live only to eradicate cults was related to this.

They had lost friends or loved ones to cults, and some of them had to fight corpses brought back in their likeness.

Having to kill the ones you loved again—that was what gave the Heretic Annihilation Order the strength to keep fighting until every cult was wiped out.

'Draugr.'

Those who should have gone to the prison of heaven had been brought back to life, bound to spells.

The collective name for such beings was Draugr.

“Lord.”

Audin prayed silently, feigned a retreat by shifting his weight backward, then burst forward with speed unimaginable for a man of his size.

From above, it looked like a great bell defying the laws of physics, tilting back and forth before springing forward.

He looked like a massive stone flung by something even larger than a giant.

In short, he looked like a boulder being hurled.

Armor infused with holy light covered his entire body. His hands and feet had become maces and blades soaked in divine power.

Audin knew well what he had. On top of that, he had gained new insight by spending time with Enkrid and the pitiful brothers of the Mad Order of Knights.

'There’s no reason to use Holy Armor just for blocking.'

That simple, clear realization was the source of the violence he now unleashed.

Whrrr—

The radiance swirled around his body. The rotating light became a spiral of destructive force.

Boom!

Crash!

Thud!

Wherever his light-infused fists struck, they became maces that testified to the strength of a battle apostle.

When it hit the head—it crushed the skull.

When it hit the torso—black mist spread out in a radial wave from the point of impact.

A morning star with spiked tips came down on his head, and he received ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) it with his shoulder.

Clinkclinkclink.

The spinning armor of light deflected it aside.

Then the body of the one who had swung it was sliced clean in two. Audin had raised a knife-hand and swung it vertically.

The bisected body was flung apart as if someone had yanked it from both sides.

Force and speed created pressure, and that pressure caused a shockwave.

Audin spun halfway and kicked his foot backward. The motion was swift, but for those it struck, his foot was anything but light.

Boom!

Splatter!

Following the kick that tore through one of them, black mist spread backward in a radial burst.

The upper body had been crushed into nothing. The remaining lower half collapsed, shedding black mist.

Beyond the vanishing Draugr Knights, the man with the flute furrowed his brow.

'What the hell is this monster?'

He was a knight who commanded the dead.

Once, he had shaken the continent with the title of the Necromancer Knight.

Raised by a gravedigger grandfather, he had been surrounded by evil spirits since childhood. A chance encounter with a master led him down the path of necromancy.

Later, he realized he had a knack for swinging blades and, after much training, rose to knighthood—but somewhere in that process, he hit a limit, a wall.

'I may lack talent in swordsmanship, but I have other talents.'

That’s when he began to dream of wielding knightly power backed by the souls of others. His ambition was to make all humans on the continent kneel beneath his feet.

Then he met Balrog—and died.

But even so, his ambition remained unchanged.

'I’ll gather my forces here... and even strike down Balrog.'

In the labyrinth sealed by Balrog’s power, there was nothing to do but fight. That’s why everyone trapped here fought, and fought, and kept fighting.

In the midst of that, some minds broke. Those who lost their sanity would normally become wandering wraith knights of the labyrinth—but this man, with the power of necromancy, had gathered them.

The man’s eyes shifted to a woman. She was fighting off two Draugr Knights with sword and shield while protecting the man behind her.

That woman wasn’t weak either.

Even while fighting, she glanced his way several times.

Her eyes, and the eyes of the man who was destroying all the Wraith Knights I had gathered—both had sunk flat and deep.

As soon as he registered that gaze, he felt a chill despite lacking a physical body.

“Tch.”

The man clicked his tongue. He drew a sword instead of the flute, but he knew he couldn’t win against that monster who flew at him with his entire body turned into a weapon.

In truth, he already knew. He had merely endured by using false hope as a shield. He had died to Balrog. How could anything bound to him rebel against its master?

Once again, he gave up easily, and before him, Audin clenched his fist and asked,

“Release them all.”

Release what? He meant the Wraiths bound by that flute.

“...Do your worst.”

The man sneered at his opponent. This was all just a game anyway. Balrog’s game. Everyone trapped inside this was nothing more than a toy for that demon. If you hated it, you just had to kill the demon known as the Battle God. If Balrog died, everything would end.

Of course, that would never happen.

The man knew that if he died now, he would forget part of his memory and awaken again. If he managed to retain his sense of self in the process, he could repeat it all once more.

If not...'

Then he would simply become one of the Wraith Knights and that would be the end.

“Damn it.”

In that moment, the man realized something. This wasn’t the first time. He’d already died many times before.

Memories began to bloom, fresh and vivid. Now that he was about to die, the sealed memories came back naturally.

'If you don’t want to give up, then you must not know.'

It was desperation—willful ignorance—to avoid reality and continue resisting Balrog.

Some days, he died serving as Balrog’s sparring partner. Some days, he died fighting other Wraiths. Recently, he had been cut down by the sword of a female knight.

And now.

Boom!

Audin’s fist shattered his thoughts.

“Looks like what our Captain Brother hoped for has finally come to pass.”

Audin spoke as he withdrew his holy light. He could guess the reason for the shifting terrain and the surrounding chaos.

Everything around him provoked his divinity. It was no different from being inside a demon realm. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

'What’s the reason?'

Long ago, they had said demons wielded authority. It was knowledge he had gained while studying as a martial priest. No one knew exactly what that authority was or what form it took, but he could sense it—this had to be part of Balrog’s authority.

'Where are you, Captain Brother?'

And most likely, Enkrid was now meeting the owner of that authority.

Darkness slowly expanded to fill the space where the light had vanished. After the death of the necromancer knight, the group of Wraiths he controlled wavered and then sank into the earth, turning into black mist and scattering.

Teresa calmly caught her breath and cast her gaze beyond the strange space, which had morphed into a massive cavern.

“I think more are going to keep coming.”

Since becoming a Holy Cantor, a sacred lancer, her instincts had sharpened even more than Audin’s. She didn’t yet understand what was happening, and everything was full of incomprehensible phenomena—but things like this would continue to come. Endlessly.

Until when?

Until they died.

Teresa listened closely to what her instincts were telling her.

“Then I suppose I’ll have to start throwing punches as well.”

Audin finally smiled gently as he spoke. All he needed to do was handle what was in front of him—that was one of the things he’d learned from Enkrid.

Right now, he couldn’t find or help anyone. But he could at least fend off the things rushing in and protect those whose skin had turned a violet hue.

'This too must be the will of our Captain Brother.'

The Father above in heaven would be watching. With that thought, Audin steeled his heart.

Roman rose to his feet behind them, using his greatsword like a cane.

He’d taken a gash to the thigh during the ambush, so his right leg wouldn’t move properly. One of the villagers saw this and approached, offering him something like a bandage.

It was a bandage made from monster-hide.

“Thanks.”

Roman spoke as he tightly wrapped his thigh with it.

More are going to come, huh? And they’ll all be on the level of knights like the ones now?

So what, should we despair, collapse to our knees, and wait for death? Or should we clench our swords and charge forward, knowing we’ll die anyway?

'Neither.'

We’ll endure. No matter what happens in the end, we’ll keep fighting until the end.

Roman’s spirit no longer broke so easily. He wasn’t the same as before he met Enkrid again. Now, even if a parasite tried to take over his mind, he could shake it off.

He deliberately drew up his Will and felt it. He couldn’t become a knight right away—but he could swing his sword.

'Even if this is the handiwork of something beyond me...'

He would live in the now.

If Roman was this resolute, the others weren’t shaken at all. To be precise, the Mad Order of Knights remained unbothered even in situations like this.

“We should gather the villagers in the hall.”

“I’ll go.”

Rophod, who had been watching, stepped forward to speak, and Pell answered him.

Like herding sheep, they could round up all the villagers and push them into the hall. It was a familiar task for Pell.

Boom!

A thunderous roar echoed from far off, and everyone’s gaze turned in that direction.

There stood Rem. Above his hand, a disc floated. Not a real disc—it was an illusion, made by spinning a tough leather strap above his head.