Chapter 19. Fallen Monarch (2) Part-2

'What is it? Is it the Holy Knights? Che! I was in the middle of enjoying myself. Who is it? I definitely sealed it!'

"What…?"

Even before he could finish his sentence, the door broke apart and flew off its hinges. The priests in the way were either crushed to death or wounded. The ones that managed to evade the doors were surprised as they leapt up from their seats and began to retreat.

Metallic sounds rang out as the figure wearing pitch black armor entered. The skeletons spread out into a formation behind him.

"U-undead…?!"

"Why are there undead here…?!"

Thoma, the master of the undead, no, the one who had received the name of 'Artarrk', looked at the booze, drugs, and naked women around him. The women looked at Artarrk with dazed looks on their faces and began to laugh hysterically. Tears were flowing from their eyes. It looked as though they still hadn't regained their senses from the drugs.

[… I see you're enjoying yourself. You had fallen once, and now have you decided to abandon all of your dignity, Brother Faron?]

Faron looked surprised as he glanced around before pointing a finger to himself.

"W-what?! W-what would a necromancer know?! How dare someone of the necromantic arts that deals with devils―do you know who I am?! I'm an Archbishop! The closest to the Pope!"

Faron looked at the priests around him and shouted.

"What are you all doing?! Kill that madman! Or I'll kill you all myself!"

The more experienced priests regained their composure and quickly clothed themselves. They raised their staves and began casting their spells. After a short incantation, balls of light flashed out like bolts of lightning toward Artarrk.

Unfortunately, an attack of that level was not enough. An undead lich enveloped with holy energy appeared before Artarrk, grasped one of the fast approaching spells and crushed it.The lich realized that they were weaker than expected, and allowed the rest of them to dissipate harmlessly against it.

"L-lich…?!"

When the attacking priests retreated, the Undead Lich slammed the sickle in its hand onto the ground. The ground split open, and skeletons emerged from the cracks. They took the priests by surprise and ambushed them, grabbing onto their bodies and squeezing the life out of them. The sound of their bones being crushed echoed throughout the room. Femur, clavicle, ribs, hands, and scapula. All manner of bones flew out everywhere as they were crushed to death. The remaining priests that had avoided such a fate could do nothing but watch such a horror unfold.

"Hiiik! K-kill it! What are you doing?! Hurry…!"

Faron screamed as he grew more pale, the priests all shook their heads.

"N-no, b-but…"

The other priests awkwardly retreated. They were the priests from the abbey in the fringes. Their positions were not high and as they hadn't received proper training, and didn't know how to properly use Holy Energy. Moreover, they were inexperienced with battle. All of the priests that had stepped up to face the undead had been priests of the palace, who had been much more experienced. Yet they had not been enough to face this threat. The reality of the situation quickly dawned on the remaining priests, and they knew that they had no hope of achieving what their fallen comrades had not.

"Ee-eek! Ey! Monster Elephant! Hurry up and crush them! Hurry…!"

Faron kicked the massive elephant. The elephant stood up in response and knocked Faron aside before rushing over to Artarrk.

"Uwaack! Stupid…! Ugh…"

Faron grabbed his crushed foot as he watched the elephant charging forward.

When the massive bulk of the elephant attempted to stomp Artarrk, the elephant's head suddenly exploded. Its massive body fell to the side and Artarrk lowered his armored right hand. Faron collapsed upon witnessing the scene. His final trump card had been swatted aside easily, with a single strike. It was an unbelievable level of strength inconceivable by man or demon.

"M-monster! You monstrous bastard…!"

[Monster?]

Artarrk approached him. Every time Artarrk took a step forward, the ground beneath his feet grew black as it rotted away. He stood before Faron.

Faron looked at his own legs in surprise. The tips of his feet were turning black as they rotted away.

"Uwaack!"

[Am I really the monster here? Or are you?]

"Hiiiik-! W-what are you talking about?! I hate this! Save me! Ey! I said save me!"

Faron crawled along the floor. He continued to desperately shout toward the other priests as he moved. His feet were rotting away. They had started rotting from his toes, but now it was spreading up to his thigh, his knees, and now the rest of his leg. There was horrendous pain at a level he had never experienced before in his life as his flesh decayed. It was at a level that made the torture he had received earlier feel like the sting of a mosquito.

Faron crawled toward the fountain made of holy water.

"Hurry…! Hurry…!"

He knew that it was his only chance to alleviate some of his pain. Once he covered the distance, he climbed inside the fountain and held his body against the spray of holy water. He was grasping at straws, willing to try absolutely anything to get rid of the pain. Faron began to smile as the water worked its magic. His pain faded, then vanished entirely. His plan worked.

At that moment, however, the fountain started to turn black and tainted water began to spray out. It had a rotten stench to it and as it covered Faron's entire body, it made his pain even more intense.

"…Hiiiik?!"

Faron raised his head. Artarrk was standing above him with his hand stretched out. He grabbed Faron by the neck and lifted him into the air. Artarrk turned, and swung the Archbishop against the cross hanging on the wall behind them.

"Uwaak!"

Artarrk raised his free hand into the air and conjured a single spearhead which he nailed through both of Faron's palms.

"Uwaaaaak! Uwaaaaak!"

Faron's arms and legs began to swell, giving off a pungent smell. Looking at this scene, the other priests gasped in horror and they covered their mouths with their hands.

"Stop! Stop this! What did I do to deserve this?! Just what did I…?!"

[The children and Sister Ellie.]

Faron shut his mouth. His eyes grew wide as he saw the golden light pouring out from the skull of a lion. That light looked familiar to him. It was the light of a monk who could discern truth from lies.

"B-brother T-thoma?"

Faron felt chill across his body. He recalled all the evil acts he had committed thus far and his mind shut down at the fear of the consequences. He looked at Artarrk as he pleaded.

"W-wait! B-brother Thoma! Sir Hero! Wait! I am sorry! I am deeply sorry! I-I, myself didn't want to commit…" His leg was skewered with another spearhead. "Uwaaaack!"

Faron screamed. His nerves must have been intact even though his entire body was in a state of decay.

"Shit! What am I sorry for?! Just what…?! Is it wrong to be in pain?! Is it wrong to have succumbed to the pain?! Was it a sin to have not stood by your side?! I just wanted to survive…!"

Ignoring Faron's outburst, Artarrk looked into his eyes.

[I don't care about myself. It didn't matter what happened to me, but… Sister Ellie and the children were different.]

Faron's face trembled. He was slowly enveloped in horror as darkness covered his eyes. All manner of fluids flowed out of his nose, eyes, and ears and excrement flowed from his lower half.

[I wasn't the one that was sacrificed for your ambition. It was the children. Now suffer the consequences for your sins, Faron!]

Faron shook his head with all his might as if to deny that claim. He struggled to escape however he could, but his arms and legs refused to move.

"No! No! Your Holiness! The Pope! Fucking Salem Gattschuranche! Save me, I say!"

The light from Artarrk's eyes narrowed toward Faron.

[Where is Salem? Where is that man?]

"Uaaaah! Hahahahaha… Hihihihihi…. Eeeeeee.."

Faron looked at Artarrk as though he had lost his grip of his sanity. He spewed out a twisted laughter, not one of any sane person, as he looked back with dull eyes. Artarrk wavered as he looked at those eyes.

[Is he… not in this place? He's… not here? Gone?] Artarrk turned in a panic as he shouted toward the undead. [Find that bastard! Drag him before me!]

The lights in the eyes of the undead flashed upon his order and they began to move out. Artarrk furrowed his brows as he glared at Faron.

[You… must suffer more.]

Artarrk's body began to shift from darkness to light. His armor was dyed in white as the Aura of Life began to emanate around him instead of the Aura of Death. A white-colored spear appeared in his hand with which he penetrated Faron's heart.

Faron's looked down and watched the spear penetrate his own heart, and he saw his rotting body regenerate. Faron's gaze turned to his side. The Aura of Death from the spearheads holding his arms and legs continued to eat at his flesh. His entire body was repeatedly dying and rejuvenating.

[I pledge to you an eternal death! When that body crumbles and disappears, I, Artarrk, overrule your rights to a new life: 'reincarnation'!]

Faron's eyes grew wide as he gazed upon the amalgamation of power before him. He couldn't understand what the being was trying to say. The fact that he was speaking of reincarnation, extinguishing the cycle of death and rebirth, and that the God who had created all beings, Artarrk, was being invoked here, none of it made any sense.

"Hah. Hah…haha…hahaha…hahahahahahaaaa! Hihihihiiiihiihihihihihih!"

Faron's body began to shake amidst the endless pain. He gradually grew insane within the torment, with expressions of despair and joy sporadically appearing on his face.

[With this… I'll consider your sins redeemed, Faron.]

Artarrk left the room, leaving Faron behind him.

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