Holy Land,
Inquisitor High Lord had no desire to enter the lands he considered corrupt until Sylvester's rise, but he found no other choice. The issue of Darksaber that Sylvester spoke about filled his mind with possible theories he hoped would turn out to be false.
As he rode his two-horse chariot into the old Holy Land, the Holy Army knights dared not stop him or ask questions. Years may have passed, but none had forgotten the fearsome presence of the Lord Inquisitor.
Donning his usual heavy armor of crimson and black, with the iconic conical helmet and the visor, his mere presence spread fear and assurance in peoples' hearts. Currently, there was no Pope in the old Holy Land, and the Council of Thirty-two had been fractured by assassinations done by Niel to secure power. It was a miracle the place was running without chaos.
Inquisitor High Lord stopped at the Administrative Building and strode in without asking for anyone's permission or allowing any searches. He knew every inch of the place and reached Saint Wazir's work chamber.
Knock!
Just a small tap and the Inquisitor High Lord entered the room unceremoniously. "Wazir, show me your treacherous face! I'll ensure not to show it any grace!"
"LORD THIRD?!" excited gasp came in response to Lord Inquisitor's threat. This wasn't usually how things went.
Inquisitor High Lord gazed at the man before him, and couldn't help but doubt if he had arrived in the wrong place. The man before him looked very thin, with a hunched back and eyes sunken into his skull, surrounded by dark circles.
"You came right on time! Save me, Lord Inquisitor! Please share my work. I'm not enough to run Holy Land alone. B-Bring Lord's Bard as well… he can be the Pope. I'm sure everyone will agree—Niel is dead already…"
Continuous prattle left Saint Wazir's mouth. It wasn't his heart speaking, but desperation and exhaustion. Being the Saint Wazir meant he was akin to the Prima of the King. In case the King was absent, it was his duty to run the realm. But, when the entire realm had suffered from internal turmoil, it turned into an impossible task—that was what running the Holy Land felt like, especially since all the honest Clergymen joined Sylvester's camp.
"I came to seek, not to speak. Bring me the Record of Reeducated. The main one, not the one divaricated." Inquisitor High Lord commanded, not showing an ounce of pity. In his eyes, the man was a traitor for serving under Niel. Even if he got thrown in the dungeon in the end, he initially was loyal to the heathen Pope.
"R-Record of Reeducation? Why that?" Saint Wazir asked and returned to his typical pleading. "Please help me, Lord Inquisitor. Bring back the Clergymen that left this Holy Land."
Thud!
Lord Inquisitor slammed his staff on the floor, shaking the foundation. "Bring me the record—this transgression you cannot afford."
Saint Wazir sighed and did as asked, very clumsily, however, since his body lacked much strength. At one moment, he was living his days in the dark dungeon, and the next moment he was managing the Holy Land again. The man had received no rest.
He quickly opened one of the cabinets and brought out one of the thick ledgers, and placed it on the table. "This is the main one. Whose name are you looking for?"
Inquisitor High Lord wasted no time and turned the pages with his big fingers. He went to the last page and looked for the name. Then finally, at the last entry, his finger stopped, and he almost shivered when he read the details written beside the name. "Who sanctioned this reeducation?!"
Saint Wazir peeked and noticed the name, and it brought sweat to his forehead. "The P-Pope did."
"Which one?"
"Pope Axel!"
Inquisitor High Lord silently read the details again and shook his head. "Why?"
Saint Wazir almost sank to the ground and dragged himself to sit back in his seat. "After what had happened, His Holiness was enraged and… chose to punish the last of the bloodline. But he tried to rectify—sadly, by the time he understood his mistake, it was too late."
"Pity." The Inquisitor High Lord closed the book and stepped back. "All of you continue to dig your graves deeper—now cry not when the time's come for the scythe of the reaper."
…
Beastaria, Goblin Region,
The two men stood face to face, each brandishing the weapon of their choice. The man in the dark armor remained silent, while the one in the light armor questioned his opponent's motives.
"Inquisitor High Lord? You're the Darksaber everyone's talking about? Haven't you heard? Your Pope is dead. There's no need to bring more harm here, so go back to Sol and be with your Bard." Sylvester questioned the man while at the same time giving suggestions.
However, Darksaber only raised his sword, ready to strike Sylvester. Only emitting low grunts from behind his visor the entire time.
But before Sylvester could raise his sword, the cloud bursts echoed, and following them, heavy rain poured down from the sky. The storm he had seen from the coast had reached them. Sylvester wasn't wearing a helmet; he found no difficulty in visibility. But he was sure Darksaber would find it troublesome to see from the small slits in the visor.
"My ladies," Sylvester glanced at the women who had been harmed by the goblins and were still hiding inside the small huts, "Don't worry. I'll get you out very soon."
Bam!
Sylvester kicked the ground and used Earth elemental magic to coat the huts with hardened mud. He ensured to keep a few holes open for air.
'Scent of nothingness… this is like Augustus all over again.' Sylvester tried to smell the scents and noticed the familiarity. 'Why be this overzealous for a dead Pope?'
At last, Sylvester raised his spare sword toward Darksaber. "May the mighty win."
BOOM!
Both men kicked the ground simultaneously and rushed at each other. Their speed was so rapid that an afterimage formed in the heavy rain. Their feet left behind a scorching small crater in the ground as well.
In an instant, the clash erupted. The two men swung their blades, producing an ear-shattering noise as their movements exceeded the speed of sound. They danced across the field, but Sylvester always steered the fight away from the women. Their exchanges were lightning-fast, faster than one's eyes could see. For an outsider, their battle seemed like a perfectly choreographed play.
"Why are you called Darksaber?" Sylvester questioned the man as he found no issue in fighting. Nevertheless, he sensed the gap in power levels between them.
'He's also a Platinum Knight like me, but one level above.' Sylvester understood that this meant Darksaber had slightly more explosive strength, but at the same time, Sylvester boasted magic and near-infinite Solarium.
Bam!
With a swift strike of his knuckles, Darksaber connected with Sylvester's jaw. The impact was strong enough to throw Sylvester flying hundreds of meters into the forest, crashing down onto a goblin village. The impact of his fall turned a few of them into an unrecognizable paste, but nobody cared; Darksaber quickly closed in on Sylvester.
'Good, we're away from the ladies now.' Sylvester had purposefully taken the hit.
Descending from above with a downward slash, Darksaber didn't aim directly at Sylvester but struck the ground, setting the trajectory toward his foe.
Boom!
The moment the blade touched the mud, a crystal-clear, dense beam of black light trailed toward Sylvester. It emerged from the ground, splitting it open, and went many dozen feet into the sky. It followed Sylvester as he tried to dodge as if the beam had a mind of its own.
Sylvester scoffed and only led the dark beam of light toward the goblin settlement and killed them mercilessly. He hadn't even started to fight seriously yet as something else preoccupied Sylvester's mind.
'These fight movements…'
"HA!" Sylvester took the offensive this time and unleashed a multitude of attacks on Darksaber. He combined fire elemental magic, and water elements runes occasionally to strike at Darksaber and push him back.
The rain continued to pour over them, turning the ruined grounds into a muddy puddle. They moved swiftly within it, clashing blades like titans in the middle of a commoner's settlement.
They went at each other mercilessly, and their battle wreaked havoc on everything around them. Whenever their swords missed the target and struck a tree or the ground, destruction followed.
A sense of increasing frustration also seemed to leak from Darksaber.
Sylvester noticed the changing fighting style, going from masterful moves to that of a brute. So he used water and earth elemental runes quickly, freezing the muddy ground Darksaber stood on. "Try dodging now!"
Woosh!
Sylvester kicked the ground and hurled himself at Darksaber like a bullet. His feet caught fire, propelling himself even faster, leaving Darksaber with no choice but to block with his blade. The edges of Sylvester's spare sword also burned red, scorching intensely.
Bam!
He connected with Darksaber's long sword. Both of them reached an almost stalemate, but Sylvester still pressed on. But eventually, the difference between a normal weapon and a legendary weapon became clear.
Clank!
ραΠdαsΝοvεl ƈοm Sylvester's sword broke in two, and Darksaber's blade swiftly came for his neck this time. Sylvester didn't flinch. He immediately formed Light Claws on his fist and counterattacked.
He ducked down in the nick of time to avoid the blade striking his neck and then leaped like a rabbit, using his claw with great precision. Sylvester's body overshot far above Darksaber's mighty form and eventually landed behind.
It was a battle of nearly equals, but Sylvester could have won a dozen times over by that point. However, there was only one reason he didn't go overboard; since there remained many unanswered questions.
Thud!
Abruptly, the visor resting on Darksaber's face fell apart and landed on the ground, split apart into two pieces. It was heavy, made of something other than metal.
Woosh!
Darksaber turned around and rushed to attack Sylvester again, his cloth hood still on his face. However, he found his feet stuck in a crystal-like substance on the ground, firmly holding him in place.
Sylvester refrained from further attacks, withdrew the Light Claws, and created some distance. He finally looked at the half-visible face under the hood and felt his heart sink.
The reddened eyes and those twisted patterns on the skin he had seen before, but only on his wrath's victims. Furthermore, as the raindrops fell on Darksaber's face, the water seemed to evaporate in smoke, creating a sizzling sound.
The man was unrecognizable. The story behind it must be painful; that was undeniable.
"What did they do to you?!" Sylvester bellowed, getting closer, his voice shaking.
_________________
[A/N: See the face behind the mask.]
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