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(TL: Well, here it is, my next translation project!! I hope you enjoy it, as much as I have TLing this series.)
The land was truly vast.
A massive, white fortress exuding an austere and noble aura stood firm in the middle of this stunning green landscape – the Holy Land of the God of Light, Latrel.
Many pilgrims thanked their benevolent deity for all of his blessings while they crossed the sea of green to seek out this Holy Land. When they laid their eyes upon the majesty of the white fortress, they could certainly sense the mighty awe of their god.
So, it wasn’t an exaggeration to call this piece of land a place of peace and divine blessing, filled to the brim with happiness and piety of the believers.
…That was, if today was any ol’ regular day.
Currently, there was an air of uncertainty whirling about this paradise, where the God of Light, Latrel, usually called home.
Outside the white walls of the fortress symbolising Latrel, countless soldiers decked out in white-coloured gear were stoically taking guard. To see so many soldiers standing in line while wearing armours that seemed to be shrouded in holy light, was indeed truly a grand sight to behold.
And in front of these gathered soldiers, Knights wearing full body armour that shone in pure silver light, rode on white steeds that seemed to have not one speck of blemish on their perfect hides.
These magnificent men and women were none other than the Holy Knight Order of Latrel, the agents of the God of Light’s will.
If there was one odd thing about this situation, then it would be the fact that all these men and women, who possessed overwhelming martial might and would normally be seen traversing the vast lands to spread the name of their god Latrel, were all gathered here.
If one looked through history books, Latrel’s Holy Knights had never ever gathered en masse like this at a single location in several hundreds of years. making this event quite vexing, indeed.
That wasn’t the only strange thing, though.
Besides the large army of Latrel, another large army wearing deep scarlet armour could be seen.
And the size of this army didn’t lose out to that of the Latrel’s own white soldiers.
They were the Knights serving the God of Sun, Dran, as well as the divine soldiers that served the Sun God himself.
That wasn’t the end.
A brown army symbolising the God of Earth, Gabein.
A red army symbolising the God of Fire, Faro.
A blue army symbolising the God of Water, Bhgeucoate.
The grand armies of all 12 churches existing on the continent of ‘Berafe’, which means all lands united as one, had gathered here.
Even the regular soldiers, from the various Divine Kingdoms, exorcists and sorcerers that formed the very core of numerous Magic Kingdoms, as well as an army consisting purely of the Barbarian horde who were normally looked down upon in Berafe, were all present and correct.
It was a cacophony of colourful soldiers filling up the seemingly endless plain.
This was the might of Berafe.
This was everything that Berafe could offer.
It was the largest alliance of humanity ever, something never before seen in the history of this world.
If one were to understand the significance of this gathering, then that person would be overcome with many profound emotions.
However… within the eyes of a certain old man who managed to bring together all these disparate forces, rather than pride, one could spy his deep-seated anxiety, instead.
“All the preparations have been completed.”
This old man turned his head towards another old man wearing a red robe and slightly nodded his head.
At the same time, all those who were waiting for the old man stood up from their seats of honour.
“Are they coming?”
It was a simple answer.
But the expressions of the two old men who heard it got harder as they nodded their heads.
They were lightly biting their lips. They were praying to their respective gods while crossing their hearts. They were frowning deeply all the while openly displaying their hostility.
And there was uncertainty.
Also, a slight hint of terror.
Their eyes focused on the old man.
This old man – he was the first servant and the one true voice of Latrel, the largest religion on the continent.
He was Pope Dioreh the First of the Latrel’s church. The man responsible for this unprecedented union of humanity in history did not shy away from their gazes and met them all, one by one.
And looking at him, the Popes of other religions as well as kings and emperors of many nations gravely nodded their heads.
The gaze of Dioreh the First was then redirected to the far distance, towards the end of the plains, the end of his eyesight, to the horizon.
Anxiety that didn’t fit his stations was slowly creeping into his eyes.
“A truly powerful army has amassed here.”
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The Pope of the Dran’s church, Veresigurl spoke, his voice trembling slightly.
“The humanity will never lose.”
“That is a matter of course!!”
Aggressive voices of agreement called out from here and there. Dioreh the First steeled himself while listening to their calls.
Every possible preparation that could have been made, had already been made.
He had gathered the remaining strength of humanity to this place as the will of his god had dictated.
The factionalism between different religions, the conflicts between different nations – these typical yet still serious issues continued to trouble him
It was a hard and painful process, but Dioreh the First was able to complete what was initially deemed impossible. He relied on his unshakeable faith to get this job done.
However, what was this anxiety that didn’t want to go away, no matter what?
How could he possibly explain this cautiously blooming buds of anxiety flowering in his heart?
“Y, your Holiness!!”
It was then, a hurried voice reached him.
“T, there it comes!! Your Holiness, over there!!”
At the end of the pointed finger, at the place where the blue sky and the green fields seemed to meet.
A spot on the once-flawless horizon began to dye in darkness.
That ‘thing’ approaching the fort while blotting out the sky and the land was akin to an unstoppable tidal wave.
Dioreh the First let out a bitter chuckle after seeing that slow but steadily approaching ‘thing’.
That was pure darkness.
That was the sum of all despair.
That was the representation of true suffering.
Seeing the fields blessed by Latrel’s grace becoming dyed in black, even Dioreh the First’s heart darkened.
“Oh, dear god….”
The distant, countless number of metallic giants, seemingly filling up the horizon, accompanied by the innumerable number of horrifying evil creatures rushing in behind them.
Above their heads, demonic creatures with colourful wings flew around in the sky like storm clouds, casting dark shadows on the plain.
The roars and cries of the vast army of monsters, and the metallic clangs from the movement of the giants, combined to create a dissonant orchestra of solemnness.
Those who could see, would see only the despair from this spectacle.
Those who could hear, would realise their fate from this spectacle.
The restlessness borne out of those with eyes and ears soon became a powerful wave that managed to shake the world.
The metal giants stopped their march.
The monsters let out horrifying screeches as they stood right behind the giants, facing the army of humanity. The noises they made suggested that they could attack at any moment.
It was a sight so overwhelming, one’s soul might have been crushed just by its pressure alone.
The Pope of the Dran’s church, Veresigurl, cried out.
At the place he was pointing at…
From there, the roars of the evil monsters began subsiding.
From there, silence and stillness spread out among the seemingly endless roars and cries of the monsters, and soon, all of it came to a stop.
And this sight was far more terrifying than the festival of roarings and growlings. All those frenzied evil creatures and demons all held their breaths and began kowtowing on the ground.
A total, chilling silence descended on the world.
As if the spectacle of before was nothing more than just an illusion, a silence so eerie one could hear one’s own heartbeat reigned over the entirety of the vast plain.
*SFX for sounds of metal scrapping on the floor (I think.)*
Breaking this silence, everyone could hear gloomy metallic screeches. Two of the metal giants slowly turned to face each other, before kneeling down on one knee.
Soft footsteps could be heard.
There was no way such soft footsteps could reach him from that far, yet Dioreh the First had clearly heard them.
Monsters made way while still keeping their heads buried in the ground. The metal giants solemnly greeted their master.
From the dense forest of monsters that was parted like the Red Sea, a man slowly walked out.
How should he be described?
This man – the sight of him wearing a thick black robe wasn’t anything too strange. Only that, his face was obscured from view due to the darkness cast by the robe’s hood.
From the corner of the abyssal black robe that seemingly absorbed all light, a hand peeked out, and it was reeking with deep crimson aura. And many, many jewels visibly hanging through the gaps of the robe glistened beautifully under the sunlight’s reflection.
In other words, it was an attire of a regular sorcerer.
However, the reason why this appearance managed to instill such unbridled terror in the heart of all the onlookers, was the black-ish aura busy circling around the man.
Resembling flames one second, and then black fog the next, these eerie and ominous black aura circled around its owner and burned fiercely before dissipating away.
As a person who served the God of Light, Dioreh the First knew instinctively just what that aura was – that was the origin of all evil, the flames of Hell. It should not even exist in this plain of existence.
Dioreh the First’s heart tightened. That man in front was the cause of all this.
The man who wrought the end of the world.
The king of the dead.
The despair of all living things.
The man who swallowed whole the nations of the living, and took away the breaths of all who lived.
The archenemy of all twelve main religions.
No, the enemy of all who lived.
The man capable of causing the 12 gods, who protected the land of Berafe, to scream out their divine messages; the man capable of causing the kings and emperors of 48 nations ruling this land of Berafe to put aside their differences and insecurities to unite as one, as if they no longer had any choice in the matter.
The man, capable of forcing all these disparate powers into a single location through sheer terror and despair.
Dioreh the First struggled to cry out.
“Oh, hear thee, the Bringer of Apocalypse!!”
His voice was amplified and resounded around the vast plain.
“Oh, the king of the dead, the despair of all living creatures, the ruler of ten thousand demons and millions of beasts!!”
As if to reply to those words, all the evil creatures that were keeping dead still lifted up their heads and broke out in a thunderous commotion.
Immediately, Dioreh the First felt his blood run cold. Although there were millions of human soldiers between them and him, it seemed like only the sound of their roars could be heard and nothing else.
“The humanity does not fear thee. The humanity will never perish. On this land blessed by the gods, this is where thy dark ambitions will crumble, and thy army of darkness shall return to the embrace of nature, and disappear altogether!!
“We shall never surrender, even if we shed our blood and offer our lives!!
“Our flowing blood will become the milk that sustains this continent, and our flesh will become the fertiliser that enriches this world!!
“And our souls shall return to the warm embrace of our benevolent 12 gods and finally rest in peace!!”
With the cries of Dioreh the First, the human soldiers began raising cheers as well.
Millions of them cheered out until their throats were hoarse.
Dioreh the First’s eyes became bloodshot.
Yes, this was the power of humanity. This was the will of humans, carrying the blessings of the 12 gods.
The despair and terror that were wringing out his heart crumbled, and instead, powerful, inspiration emotions filled it up.
“On this land, we might flicker like a dying candle. We might fall like worthless things! But!! Our unyielding will shall drive the blade of faith into thy heart!! Can thee sense our undying will, evil sorcerer!! Can thee feel our undying might, the Lich who have forsaken even the death itself!!”
“CHOTTO MATTE!!!” (TL: Lol. It’s actually, “No!! Stop right there!” Well, I just couldn’t resist.)
< 1. Stop Spreading False Rumours, Please. -1 > Fin.