novelnext Chapter 644: Episode 644
Chapter 644: Episode 644
The ruler of the Dark Alliance, Nephthys Archbold.
Lethe, still slumped on the ground from exhaustion, was dazed by her sudden appearance. Just then, Nephthys’s gaze shifted to her.
Lethe instinctively flared her divinity. Seeing Nephthys’s eyes narrow, Simon quickly stepped between them.
"Lady Nephthys!"
"Lethe, I mean, the Saintess...!"
"I know," Nephthys interrupted, her tone devoid of hostility. "She was a great help. It would be pointless to start a fight with her right after we stopped Ever Kire and prevented a war, wouldn’t it? Besides, even if I killed her, a new Saintess would just appear."
"Well, you might regret not killing me here and now," Lethe retorted, a defiant smile playing on her lips. "When war finally breaks out, I’ll be the one leading the charge to take your head."
’What is she saying?!’ Simon’s face paled, but Nephthys just chuckled as if she found the threat adorable.
"It’s still too early for that, little girl."
"Who are you calling a little girl, hm?"
As they bickered, Agent Alistair approached and whispered a report in Nephthys’s ear. She nodded.
"Mhm. Proceed with the closing ceremony as planned."
Simon was bewildered. She was going to push ahead with the ceremony after all this chaos? What was she thinking?
"If you two aren’t seriously injured, it would be good for you to attend," Nephthys added with a sharp wave of her hand. "Well then, bye-bye!"
With that, the teleportation circle that had already formed beneath Simon and Lethe activated, whisking them away.
---
All the events of the Dark Festival were over. There were no upsets. The Summoning Department hadn’t managed to overtake the first-place Curses Department and remained in second, but considering their history of consistently finishing last, it was a remarkable improvement.
The match in the Valkeje Stadium, held right before the battle with Ever Kire, was declared null and void. The participating students would be given appropriate performance scores to ensure they weren’t penalized. It seemed they were quickly wrapping things up for the closing ceremony.
As for the Ever Kire incident, the public remained lArjely in the dark. Rumors circulated that the competitors and spectators had collapsed for some unknown reason and been taken to the school infirmary. The victims had all regained consciousness, but they had no memory of what happened after they passed out.
Simon and Lethe were also transported to the infirmary for treatment. Fortunately, they were merely exhausted, with no serious injuries.
Lying on the infirmary bed, Simon was lost in thought.
’Is Kizen planning to bury this whole incident?’
It was the perfect opportunity. The victims couldn’t remember what had happened, and the only ones who knew the full story were Nephthys’s inner circle. For the sake of a successful conclusion to the quinquennial Dark Festival, the adults in charge had likely decided it was best to let the messy affair sink beneath the surface.
But was that the right thing to do? His mind was a tangled mess.
’Click!’
"How are you feeling, student?" The infirmary doctor entered the room. As one of Nephthys’s people, he knew the situation.
Simon snapped out of his reverie and sat up straight.
"I’m fine! How is the Saintess?"
"The Saintess who came with you seems to be fine as well. However, she’s refusing treatment from the infirmary since it utilizes Jet-Black..."
"Ah."
"But don’t worry too much," the doctor added, scratching his head. "We’ve taken appropriate measures."
---
’Great Healing’
The wounds on Lethe’s body began to close with a soft glow. She silently endured the pain and turned her head.
"So it’s you."
The person healing her was an old man with a long white beard, dressed in the white robes of a sage.
"The traitor, Parahan."
Parahan remained silent.
"A former bishop of Efnel. I heard you’re now teaching necromancers at Kizen."
Parahan silently finished his work and lowered his hands. He then touched his shoulder and chest, making the sign of the cross.
"Gratula mi Kivilis. I greet the Goddess’s closest daughter."
Lethe let out a small sigh.
"You betrayed the Goddess and joined the Dark Alliance, yet you still make the sign of the cross and show courtesy to a Saintess."
"I betrayed Efnel, not the Goddess," he replied calmly. "I offer my prayers every single day."
Parahan believed in the Goddess Deva but thought Efnel distorted her will to maintain its power and pursue selfish desires.
"Of course, I don’t expect a Saintess to accept that."
"No. That story you just told—" Lethe continued, her expression dismissive, "isn’t that the classic logic of a heretic?"
She had heard something similar just recently.
’—It’s not too late. Open your eyes. Forget the teachings of Efnel that blind you and serve my revelation.’
It had been Ever Kire. Just thinking about that fanatic made her sick.
"Ever Kire suffered from the delusion that she was equal to a god, and she had the innate ability to manifest her delusions into reality. With that power, she cornered Kizen and even created a false god."
Parahan said nothing.
"It’s just a matter of degree. You and Ever Kire are cut from the same cloth." Her golden eyes flashed as she stared at Parahan. "Under the pretext of opposing the Efnel system, you crawled to those who wield the power of demons. I find you plenty despicable yourself."
Lethe thought her words were quite harsh, but the old man remained unshaken. He simply stroked his long beard with a benevolent smile. His eyes, deep as the sea, seemed to have reached a state of enlightenment after countless trials and reflections.
"Go on, make an excuse," she pressed, feeling a strange sense of impatience.
"First of all, unlike that fanatic, I do not deny the Goddess, nor do I consider myself her equal," Parahan began. "Furthermore, the Goddess has never defined necromancers as an evil that must be defeated."
Lethe shot up.
"What are you talking about! It’s clearly written in the scriptures!"
"It was humans who wrote down the Goddess’s words, and the scriptures have been passed down through interpretations and revisions favorable to those in power. According to the original text held by the Pope, Deva mentioned demons, but never defined necromancers as enemies or demon worshipers."
"Even so...!"
"And even if we concede that Jet-Black is the power of demons, necromancers do not worship demons. The only thing they worship is—" Parahan placed a hand on his chest. "—themselves."
"They are simply humans, just like us, who adopt efficient means to grow endlessly stronger. The idea that Jet-Black is demonic, and that those who use it must worship demons, is merely Efnel’s assertion. Our true enemy lies elsewhere."
Lethe’s expression grew complicated.
"...Nonsense."
After a moment, she dismissed it as such, but Parahan only smiled.
"Still, you are the first priest to listen to my story so deeply and seriously, Saintess. Most just treat me as a madman and refuse to listen at all."
She slowly tilted her head back.
"I’ll ask one last thing, I will."
"Please do."
"Do you have any regrets?"
Instead of answering, Parahan offered a benevolent smile—one that was both relieved and warm.
That smile was answer enough.
---
That afternoon, the closing ceremony of the Dark Festival was held.
Before it began, there was some chatter about the 16th stadium and those who had lost their memories. But the moment the spectacular ceremony started, all eyes were fixed on the event.
As Nephthys had suggested, Simon and Lethe attended. Simon was required to be there as Student Council President, and Lethe came along for the spectacle. Alistair’s people had provided them with a spacious VIP box, so they could watch in comfort.
Soon, before the massive crowd, Vice President Jane and the elders of the Dark Alliance gave their speeches. The most significant achievements of the students flashed across a mana screen.
Then came the Student MVP awards.
The 3rd-year MVP was, unsurprisingly, the overall 2nd rank and head of the Poison Department, Balak.
And the 2nd-year MVP was...
"The 2nd-year Student Council President, Simon Polentia!"
’Waaaaaaaaah!’
Amidst the fervent cheers, Simon accepted a large trophy and posed for a photo with Balak, struggling to hold his breath against the poisonous smoke constantly leaking from the other student’s mask.
’Ah.’
He spotted Lethe in the VIP box. She wore a hood, but he recognized her instantly. She was clapping and cheering for him, and Simon smiled back.
Soon, the awards were over.
"Ahem." Seiwyr, the host, cleared his throat and spoke in a solemn voice. "The Chancellor of Kizen, Lady Nephthys, is now entering! All students and distinguished guests, please rise."
Everyone present rose to their feet.
In the heavy silence, the only sound was the soft thump of Nephthys’s footsteps as she appeared. She, who hadn’t even attended the opening ceremony, was making a personal appearance at the closing.
’Lady Nephthys.’
Simon watched her from behind the stage. A broadcast assistant scurried over and placed a wooden box at the foot of the podium. Nephthys hopped onto it, cleared her throat, and said, "Alright, everyone sit."
"Please be seated," Seiwyr echoed.
Only then did the crowd sit. She grabbed the amplification crystal.
"Thank you all for gracing the Dark Festival until the very end. The reason I came here today is—" Her lips parted. "—because I want to discuss something important regarding the future of the Dark Alliance."
A major announcement. The air crackled with tension.
"First, I’m sure there’s been a lot of talk. The 16th stadium. The spectators and students who lost their memories. To get straight to the point," her eyes hardened, "Kizen was attacked by a fanatic who deserted from the Holy Federation."
A wave of murmurs swept through the crowd. A fanatic was the most sensitive and dangerous topic in the Federation, and the sound grew louder.
"The fanatic who infiltrated was named Ever Kire, a user of a dangerous innate ability that distorts reality, making the unreal real. Those of you in the stadium at the time may not remember, but a fierce battle was fought with Roc Island itself at stake. And in that battle, which took place beneath the surface—" Her blue eyes swept over the crowd. "—we discovered the existence of a new Legion Commander."
The venue rippled like a wave. A new Legion Commander, right after a fanatic! The story was taking an unpredictable turn. The necromancers in attendance began speaking in hushed, serious tones.
"Isn’t that impossible? A new Legion Commander?"
"All six positions are filled. An Ancient Undead, perhaps, but unless a new manager suddenly appears..."
’Hmph.’ Nephthys let out a slight smile and brought the amplification crystal to her lips.
"We have confirmed the existence of the manager of the 7th Legion, which was believed to have been completely destroyed: the Ancient Undead once known as the ’Lord of Terror’, Pier."
"That’s right." Nephthys’s voice grew firm. "The Legion of Betrayal has returned."