The Exiled Lord: My Maid is a Battle Goddess-Chapter 117: Tier 2 Corruption Divine Chosen

In another dimension, the pure bells of a sacred cathedral tolled endlessly—clang... clang...

Razor-sharp streaks of sword light crossed in midair. Milani let out a scream and was hurled backward like a kite with its string cut. Before she could even hit the ground, a massive silver cross followed close behind, triggering another violent explosion.

Boom!

Cardolian’s figure flickered and vanished from where he stood. When he reappeared, he was already behind Milani. With a single thrust, he drove his sword through her and forced her to the ground.

"The judgment is complete."

A silver cross descended from above, piercing through Milani’s back, bursting out through her chest, and slamming brutally into the earth.

"Ugh... I’m... so unwilling..."

Milani’s fingers slowly loosened. Her pupils lost focus as thin streams of blood trickled from the corners of her mouth.

From the strange magic circle Eliza had drawn, a twisted shadow crawled out. It opened its mouth and inhaled, devouring Milani’s divine soul in a single breath. The shadow grinned in satisfaction and cackled, "A Divine Chosen of the War Goddess—her soul is rather weak."

With that, it slipped back into the circle and vanished.

Clang... clang...

The sacred bells echoed all around, proclaiming the end of the battle.

Eliza tossed her hair and placed a hand on her hip. "That makes the third-tier sacrifice complete. Now we only lack a first-tier one."

"Rest in peace," Cardolian said as he closed Milani’s eyes and offered a silent prayer. "This is all for humanity’s future."

"That’s enough, Cardolian. We need to escort the sacrifice to the Viscount’s territory. We don’t have time to waste." Eliza waved her hand. The surrounding cathedral seemed to melt away, gradually crumbling and dissolving. She tossed him a vial of potion. "Don’t forget to drink the invisibility potion. If the Empire finds out, it’ll be trouble. They guard against us like thieves, even though we’ve done nothing excessive."

"Wait! Why do I feel like the Life Interweaving Nodes around us are disappearing at a frantic rate? That’s impossible!"

Shock spread across Eliza’s face.

Ordinary Divine Chosen would never destroy the nodes—and couldn’t even if they tried. Even through slaughter, one could not shatter the land’s veins and fortune; immigrants could replenish the damage afterward. But the problem was, Rosalia was not an ordinary Divine Chosen.

Space twisted.

When Milani’s corpse fell from the distorted dimension, everyone in the battle zone froze for three full seconds.

Regin’s pupils trembled violently. His mouth opened, yet no words came out.

"A... a Divine Chosen has fallen!"

Someone stammered the words, and only then did the others realize they were not dreaming.

Under normal circumstances, even if a Divine Chosen were outmatched, they could temporarily unleash their divine artifact for a burst of power and withdraw or endure. In the first battle, Livrasa had ventured deep alone and been besieged by three Divine Chosen for half a day, yet she had only been gravely wounded.

But now, one had truly fallen.

Regin’s eyes turned bloodshot. Half his future was ruined.

A Divine Chosen—an Imperial army Divine Chosen, born of nobility—had died under his command. He dared not imagine what awaited him next. Even severe injury or total crippling would not have been as serious as death in battle.

"Kill them all!"

Regin roared, mana erupting from his body as he charged into the crowd and slaughtered wildly.

As both sides clashed fiercely, a rebel Divine Chosen heard the cry behind him and glanced back—nearly dying of fright. "What’s wrong with that fog?"

"Is that Death Miasma?"

Both sides were stunned, staring at one another in disbelief.

To their horror, they realized that the inner city of Howling Fortress had been engulfed in Death Miasma, and corrupted corpses were pouring out, attacking both Allied and rebel forces indiscriminately.

"How despicable!" Regin’s eyes nearly split apart in fury. He felt on the verge of a stroke.

He assumed it was the Shadow World Sect’s doing.

The death of one Divine Chosen was already catastrophic. If an entire fortress were swallowed by Death Miasma, the Empress would flay him alive. No—before she even acted, the Count of Nibelungen would personally deal with him.

"What... what’s happening?"

"I have no idea."

The rebel Divine Chosen looked at each other, equally bewildered.

Earlier, Divine Chosen, knights, and mages alike had been locked in a brutal melee, fighting with true fury. No one had paid attention to the inner city.

Some Allied knights had noticed something, but they hadn’t even breached the outer wall—let alone the inner city. Besides, other than a lord or a Divine Chosen, who the hell would dare enter Death Miasma recklessly?

Within the gray fog, houses collapsed. Corruption crawled over every structure. Blood and rotting corpses were everywhere. Chains spread across the entire inner city. The chains of the Greatsword of Gluttony pierced key points throughout the city, frantically draining its life force.

When the final strand of energy surged inward, a terrifying aura erupted. The chains writhed like iron serpents, rapidly retracting from every building.

Phield received the notification immediately.

Along with a massive surge in attributes, advancement options for his Divine Chosen flashed through his mind:

1. A new Divine Art.

2. A new army bonus.

3. A new territorial bonus.

4. A new trait.

5. A qualitative evolution of an existing skill.

"Wait... the lord decides?"

Phield scratched his head, both flattered and overwhelmed, unsure what to choose.

Boom!

The Greatsword of Gluttony blasted through the city wall and transformed into a streak of blood-red light, crashing down not far behind him. The blade had evolved into a second-tier divine artifact. Its black-and-crimson body pulsed with intense bloodlight, the spine now gray, and an additional scarlet eye had opened upon it. Strange patterns covered its surface, radiating a terrifying presence.

Chains wrapped around white cloth, slowly binding it and concealing its overwhelming divine aura.

Phield calmly pulled the greatsword from the ground and slung it over his back.

"Hic~ I’m full. Heeheehee," Rosalia’s laughter rang out. "I can’t wait to start cutting people down again."

"Ahem. Before that, which advancement option do you want?" Phield asked democratically.

"You choose," Rosalia replied without hesitation. "The new knowledge I gained tells me that the advanced skill depends on the condition of the city attacked—and also on you, the lord. In fact, mostly on you."

"Huh? It’s related to me too?"

Phield had never expected that.

"To be precise, the advanced skill is bestowed upon the Divine Chosen by the lord. As for the exact principle, I don’t understand it either. In any case, I can’t choose. Hurry up and decide. I trust you."

A lord and a Divine Chosen grew together from the very beginning.

"Army and territory bonuses are out."

Corruption leaned toward destruction, and Rosalia was purely combat-oriented. She had no construction or support abilities whatsoever. Phield didn’t believe they would gain any worthwhile development skill—and even if they did, the returns wouldn’t be high.

"Traits are out too. Too risky."

One of Rosalia’s major traits—Corrupted Immortality—was incredibly powerful, yet practically useless most of the time. If she ended up with another trait she might never use in her lifetime, it would be a massive loss.