The SSS class adventurer is a divine cleric-Chapter 73: Cleansing

Kaelen stepped into the white expanse, his robes torn and stained with blood—both his and the clone’s. His breathing was heavy, one hand clutching his side while the other dragged along the air for balance.

Deep gashes marked his arms, and his black hair stuck to his face with sweat. He looked like he had just walked out of a brutal storm.

Kaelen blinked through the haze of pain and saw Neal and Alira locked in a fierce battle.

They weren’t holding back. Neal’s fists blazed with golden light, and Alira moved like a shadow, her blades flashing with deadly speed. Sparks flew as they clashed again and again, neither giving an inch.

Kaelen tilted his head, amused. "Tch. They’re still full of fight?" he muttered with a grin. "Was their trial that easy?" The thought made him chuckle.

Then he paused, eyes narrowing as he took in the air.

The energy here was thick—rich and radiant. With every breath, he felt power trickle into him, XP flowing like a slow river into his core.

"Now that’s more like it," he said to no one in particular, plopping down cross-legged. "You two carry on. I’ll just be here... leveling up."

As Kaelen meditated, a blur of movement flashed beside him—Alira struck without warning. Her blade cut through the air, aiming straight for his neck.

But Kaelen’s eyes snapped open, body already shifting. He dodged cleanly, the strike missing him by a hair. The glow from his body pulsed faintly—he had been healing even while meditating.

The figure posing as Alira froze mid-motion, stunned. "You dodged that?" it hissed.

Kaelen stood up slowly, brushing off his robes.

His voice was flat. "Really, Alira? You couldn’t let me meditate for five minutes?" His tone shifted, a little sharper. "I was gaining XP, damn it."

He didn’t realize it yet—but that strike was meant to kill him.

Kaelen narrowed his eyes at her. "You’re being unreasonable again," he muttered.

He had always sensed something strange about Alira, something dark. Even back when they were kids, there was this heavy, cold aura around her. Malicious. Almost evil. But he never thought much of it.

He figured that was just how she was, deadly, silent, and sharp as her blades.

Looks can be deceiving, he’d told himself more than once.

But what Kaelen didn’t know, what he never realized was that the aura wasn’t Alira’s at all.

It had never been. It belonged to something else. Something ancient. And something watching him even now.

Neal watched Kaelen with growing alarm. The way the cleric yawned and stretched as if this was just another training session made his blood boil.

"Kaelen!" Neal shouted, blocking another slash from Alira. "That’s not her! It’s not Alira!"

Kaelen blinked. "What?"

Then the words clicked.

His thoughts snapped back to his fight with the clone, how that damn fake had smiled just like this, like it knew something he didn’t. His body tensed. The calm vanished.

"That smirk again..." he muttered, eyes narrowing. "Tch. Doppelgangers."

He rose to his feet and rolled his shoulders, mana already swirling around him.

"Fine then. You want a fight?" His voice dropped, steady and sharp. "I’ll give you one. You tried to kill me while I was meditating. Now it’s payback time."

The air trembled around him as Kaelen stepped into the fight, no more jokes, no more mercy.

Kaelen had always known something was wrong with Alira. That dark aura she carried since childhood, it never left her. He’d tried to joke about it, tried to ignore it. But deep down, it worried him.

So, over the years, he’d prepared.

He’d learned purification spells. He’d crafted holy skills. Not to exorcise her, he wasn’t that crazy, but just enough to maybe wash away that dark mist clinging to her soul.

Now, he wasn’t holding back.

"Let’s clean you up then," he muttered.

<Divine Judgement> flared from his hands. <Purity Pulse> ignited around his body. <Cascade of Thorns> erupted from the ground like a halo of spears.

And Alira, or whatever wore her face, hissed.

Kaelen advanced, golden light blazing with every step, chanting one skill after another like a priest gone mad.

"I made these for you!" he shouted, hurling <Mist of Mercy> right at her. "Now take them!"

The spirit inside Alira snarled. Her body twisted with impossible flexibility, dodging one holy spear, batting aside another with a flick of her dagger.

But the light still burned her—hissed against her skin like fire on oil. She moved fast, unnaturally fast, darting through Kaelen’s barrage like a phantom, yet not fast enough.

Kaelen was relentless.

Skill after skill. Buff after buff. He layered <Sanctuary> over himself, chained it with <Life Veil>, and didn’t stop moving.

The spirit’s confusion grew with every clash.

"This shouldn’t be happening," she muttered, eyes narrowing. "You’re just a boy."

Kaelen laughed, short and cold. "I’ve been dealing with your stench since I was twelve. You think I didn’t prepare?"

Alira started attending the academy when he was nine but he started noticing the dark unpleasant aura when he was twelve, when he reached silver rank and upgraded his <Third Eye>.

She lunged again, only for <Holy Reversal> to detonate in her path. The backlash of her own corrupted aura seared her shoulder, and she staggered.

It was not just a holy type skill. It reverse every healing no matter what the type is.

"Impossible..." the spirit gasped.

To her, they were children, fledgling warriors barely out of their teens. But Kaelen fought like he’d been born for this. Like every breath he took had led to this exact moment.

And now, she was starting to feel it.

Fear.

Neal watched from the sidelines, utterly stunned.

This wasn’t the same Kaelen who relied on trickery, healing, or witty banter to scrape through battles. This Kaelen moved like a storm given form, precise, unrelenting, with no room for hesitation or mercy.

He twisted through the possessed Alira’s attacks, his robes flaring, his strikes landing with terrifying timing, each one aimed not to kill, but to break down the spirit’s defenses piece by piece.

Neal’s brows drew together.

He’s lower leveled than me. His class doesn’t even specialize in offense. Then how—?

But only Kaelen knew the answer.

He had been fighting someone just as strong—if not stronger—than this spirit only moments ago. His clone. A brutal fight fought at breath’s edge, where every move meant survival or death.

And it had refined him into something else.

The spirit shrieked in disbelief as another <Purity Pulse> burst through her aura, forcing her back. Her face contorted in anger and confusion. "How are you—winning?!"

Kaelen’s eyes gleamed. "Stupid creatures of the dark let my healing enlighten you and wisen up your dull narrow minds."

He stepped forward, his aura flaring like a sunrise. And for the first time, Neal felt it too—the unmistakable shift in pressure. Not from level. Not from stats. But sheer holy cleansing power of the legendary Divine Cleric.

How it should have been from the very start.

And Kaelen’s... was overwhelming.

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