Prologue: Madness (Part 2)

The Purification magic acted like water on fire when it came to dispelling other magic. The effects of the Slow and Weakness spells cast by Ayime on the orcs were instantly washed away by the waves of white magic. However, it couldn't completely eliminate the magic that was driving the orcs into a frenzy; it only diminished part of its effects. It was akin to dousing a fire with a bucket of water, but not extinguishing it completely.

The reason was clear: the fire was simply too great. If Relas's magic was a bucket of water, the energy of the fire would be equivalent to a river.

The gazes of the merchants and mercenaries were fixed on the young man suspended in mid-air. It was the first time they had seen him take action, and they were awestruck by his skilled technique and magic. It was likely at the level of the holy knights of Celeste. When Relas shouted, the young man paused mid-air. Those with sharp eyesight could see that colorful light spots seemed to sparkle around him. Then, he fell from the air like a piece of wood, maintaining the posture of a leaping sword strike, his expression unchanged, though his eyes continued to dart around.

The sudden roar of the three orcs pulled everyone back into fear and chaos. The white light Relas had cast on the orcs had vanished, and their howls were wilder than before, as if they were trying to tear their own throats apart with all their might. One orc even bit off a chunk of flesh from its own hand and half of its tongue.

"In the name of the Lord, purify the bonds of evil!" Relas pointed at Yabin, who had just hit the ground. This time, the Purification spell efficiently dispelled the magical effects on him. Yabin rolled over, covered in dirt, and jumped up just in time to narrowly avoid a orc's meteor hammer, which struck the ground with a thud, creating a deep pit where he had just been. He hurriedly returned to Relas's side with movements as quick as before.

He had saved his grandson's life, but Relas felt no relief. His mouth tasted bitter, and his mind was clouded; he even began to doubt whether he was dreaming. The effectiveness of the Purification spell was due to the nature of the magic being dispelled; the magic that had ensnared Yabin was evidently a high-level white magic paralysis spell.

He could barely manage to use such an advanced spell himself; it required focused prayer and loud chanting. The fact that this hidden sorcerer in the dark had silently and instantaneously cast such a powerful spell was baffling… Was the Bishop of Alrasia personally robbing this caravan? Or was it one of Celeste's high-ranking officials serving the Holy Emperor?

Perhaps it was a magical scroll. It was possible that some Bishop had momentarily lost their mind and violated the ban by transcribing a paralysis spell for someone else… Grasping for reasons, Relas focused and knelt, raising his hands to the sky in prayer: "In the name of the Lord…"

Suddenly, a burst of colorful magic light flashed around Relas, and he found himself frozen in place, unable to move, his tongue stiffening, unable to continue the prayer he had just begun.

When the orcs howled madly again, Ayime didn't need a reminder. The Weakness and Slow spells were immediately reapplied to the orcs, and as the mercenaries struggled to hold the beasts at bay, she prepared an ice spell with all her might. But then, without warning, the paralysis spell descended upon her.

"In the name of the Lord, grant me holy protection to block the enemies." While Relas was immobilized, Yabin understood that this battle had no room for further struggle. Yet he didn't turn to flee immediately; instead, he first cast the highest-level protective spell he could use on himself.

A magical shield lit up around him, and only then did he pull up his sister and grandfather, who had become stiff as puppets, and turn to run toward the horses. But after just two steps, he felt the same sensation as before: all feeling in his body vanished. He could only watch helplessly as he maintained his running posture, falling to the ground with his grandfather and sister like puppets.

The shield that should have withstood a chain lightning spell failed to provide any protection. There was only one explanation: the caster's understanding of white magic had surpassed common bounds.

Relas's mind was a whirlwind; he had no idea how to comprehend everything that was happening. The angle at which he fell allowed him to take in the scene. The battle between the orcs and the mercenaries raged on, with no one fleeing; the mercenaries continued to hold their ground. They didn't understand the significance of the earlier spells and hadn't even noticed the magical struggle at play. The trio's performance had astonished them—first, the orcs had slowed, then a flash of white light had immobilized them. Yabin had leaped forward, only to be called back by Relas; surely, they must have wanted to use magic together. With three mages assisting from the back, victory was inevitable. The mercenaries were desperately buying time, hoping to give the trio enough opportunity to unleash a more powerful and effective spell.

The merchants were even more clueless. Only one among them, slightly more astute, realized something was amiss and rushed over to help the fallen trio, only to find their bodies had stiffened like clay figures, completely immovable.

At that moment, three beams of white magic light shone upon the three orcs, who had been weakened and slowed. The radiance was so bright and holy in the night that it was clear the white magic was deep and pure, even faintly resonating with hymns within the magical glow.

The mercenaries cheered loudly, realizing that this was a higher-level magic, one that would surely dispatch the three orcs instantly.

Amidst the cheers, the mercenaries blinked in confusion; the three orcs had not been immobilized. Instead, they transformed into three indistinct blurs due to their rapid movements. Almost all the mercenaries, still caught in the jubilant mood and sounds, were mindlessly torn apart into fragments like scattered confetti, with only the last one able to turn his cheer into half a scream before it was abruptly silenced with a 'crunch' as his head shattered like a fragile apple in the jaws of a orc.

"Blessed by the heavens." With his last bit of clarity, Relas recognized the spell—one that could only be wielded by the highest-ranking Bishops. If this magic were to land on an orc, it would grant enough power for any orc to tear apart an elephant with bare hands.

The three orcs even slightly morphed under the astonishing effect of the magic. They had no idea they were the first orcs in the history of the continent to experience such top-tier supportive magic; all they felt was a sudden surge in strength, increased agility, heightened energy, and a greater bloodlust to kill. Bathed in the holy white light and drenched in blood, the orcs charged toward the merchants.

"Everyone, scatter and flee!" The merchants screamed as they mounted their horses and rode off in different directions. However, under the orcs' cheetah-like speed, most of them were torn to shreds along with their horses before they could even fully mount. Only two merchants managed to escape.

The orcs did not pursue. It wasn't that they couldn't; to the now berserk orcs, the horses moved as slowly as tortoises. But they all stood still, turning back toward the camp.

A blue beam of teleportation light ignited in the nearby darkness. Only then did the hidden sorcerer reveal his position and presence. He had completed what he needed to do and could leave with peace of mind. As for the aftermath, the three crazed orcs would turn everything alive left behind into shreds of meat, including themselves.

The fur of the orcs was soaked in blood and matted together as they panted heavily, their emerald eyes filled with the scent of boiling blood, resembling three fiends that had emerged from the blood pits of hell. They scanned the battlefield littered with corpses, searching for any signs of life. With a roar, two orcs lunged at the horses and kodo beast tethered nearby, while the third fixed its gaze on the three rigid figures over there.

Though the three lying motionless on the ground looked completely lifeless, the orcs could still instinctively sense that they were alive.

Alive. With a pulse, warm blood, and squirming innards. They could be torn apart, shredded, and could still let out screams. The last remnant of awareness left within the orcs shouted this final thought into the depths of their minds before it was completely extinguished. Initially, the bloodlust and rage had only surged in their hearts, driving them to kill and tear apart. But now, as they soaked in blood and innards and felt more and more bodies ripped apart between their claws and teeth, this mad desire had grown to a point that it seemed to transcend consciousness, directly spreading throughout their bodies. Now, their very existence was only to tear flesh apart.

They strode toward the three rigid bodies. Perhaps a little too impatient, one orc bit off its own hand, chewing it vigorously, the bones and teeth grinding against each other with a chilling sound. Its once dog-like face had transformed grotesquely due to muscle distortion, looking more like a monster than a living being, with blood and saliva dripping from its mouth.

Ayime's eyes remained wide open, her expression still focused as if preparing to cast a spell, but tears streamed down her face uncontrollably. She couldn't scream or tremble, let alone escape; she could only watch helplessly as the nightmare creature drew closer.

Yabin, lying on the ground, could not see the orcs. All he could see was the frantic despair and terror in his sister's eyes, and he could hear the footsteps approaching, one step at a time. He felt his blood boiling, his insides and brain tormented, yet he couldn't even blink.

Relas also could not see the approaching orcs. But he could see Ayime's tears flowing, and he could see the bloodshot madness in Yabin's eyes. A wave of heart-wrenching pain surged from his waist; he could feel the massive claws of a orc piercing through his abdomen, crushing his innards, even snapping his spine, before lifting his remaining body. Though his body was stiff, he could still clearly feel the pain, strong enough to tear his very soul apart.

"Pfft," a mouthful of blood erupted from Relas's mouth. His life had already faded. But just as the orc lifted him, his hand suddenly moved, grabbing the cross around Yabin's neck.

From earlier, he had been using the white magic he had honed over a lifetime to break the restraints upon him. However, the white magic used by the one casting the paralysis was leagues beyond his in depth, purity, and technique. No matter how hard he tried, it had been futile. But now, the immense pain and the sudden loss of life provided enough stimulus for his body that he finally broke free of the paralysis's effects, just before dying.

The cross shattered in Relas's hand, and its fragments scattered onto the ground around Yabin and Ayime. His body, being torn apart by the orcs, shook like a rag being manipulated by someone, but he used all his strength, amidst the sounds of breaking bones and tearing muscles, to scream hoarsely: "May the merciful Lord bestow Your compassion upon the life of Your faithful…"

The voice suddenly stopped, not because Relas could no longer shout due to pain, but because an orc had pulled his lungs out of his body.

A holy white light descended from the heavens, splitting the bloody and brutal night apart. Even the three frenzied orcs were momentarily shocked by this miraculous sight, pausing their movements slightly.

The white light enveloped the bodies of the two siblings on the ground, coalescing into a spherical shield of light that would not disperse. This was the "Divine Protection," a spell that only the most devout believers could invoke by burning their own life force. At the moment this magic took effect, any attack would be unable to harm those under its protection.

Perhaps stimulated by this phenomenon, the two orcs who had just torn a massive kodo beast to shreds howled in madness and charged at the light shield, striking and pouncing. But no matter how hard they tried, they could not break this seemingly intangible ball of light. Then, they howled and turned to attack Relas, who was still in the grasp of an orc.

Ayime and Yabin remained paralyzed, unable even to blink. They watched in horrifying clarity as Relas was torn into tiny, bloody pieces by the three orcs, his flesh and blood flying everywhere, yet not a single drop fell upon them.

After the last few horses were reduced to a ground of blood and flesh, the three orcs, now covered in entrails and gore, began to turn on each other, biting and clawing. Large chunks of flesh flew off as they attacked one another, and despite their limbs becoming mangled, the frenzied fighting showed no signs of stopping. In the end, even two orcs that could only be considered undead continued to attack each other with whatever means they had left.

Finally, one orc, while its heart was being ripped open, managed to bite its companion's throat, severing it. The head, barely connected by a sliver of skin, tilted and fell to the ground along with its body, its heart crushed to a pulp, and the remaining blood within could no longer sustain its frenzied movements, collapsing heavily.

At last, the night fell silent. It was over. A faint light appeared in the east under the morning star.

A day later, the drakes of Orford arrived before the forces of Alrasia to discover the scene.

Even the scouting lizardmen and half-orcs were shocked by the mass of corpses and flesh. Not a single body was intact; it looked as if a giant meat grinder had passed through this forest. One half-orc retched.

Strangely, at the center of this tragic scene, there was a neat circular area devoid of any blood, like a holy ground in hell. Both the lizardmen and half-orcs were astonished and perplexed by this miraculous circle, followed by a sense of awe.