Brilliant light gathered in Glen’s grip, climbing up the sword. The divinity, overflowing like a swollen lake, was fiercely embedded even in the blood dripping from his hand.
Enchantments, sword energy, and even more advanced sword aura—all of these imbued the sword with light. However, these alone were not enough to harm an apostle.
A difference in realm. It’s like a law, a simple truth.
A lesser being could not harm a god, and all things conjured by humans were no different from apostles, who were avatars of gods.
The borrowed divinity was the same.
The divinity of the paladins was merely a temporary borrowing of God’s power, and the essence of their lower realm remained unchanged.
“…It can’t change.”
“…”
Jaganata gazed at the light lingering on the sword. His gaze was sharp, but he couldn’t properly discern the essence of the light.
No, he might have already understood it.He was just forcing himself to deny it deep inside.
‘It can’t be. How could a mere human who doesn’t even wield a holy sword…?’
Such a realm was not within a mere human’s reach. Jaganata denied it countless times. However, he would eventually have to accept it.
‘Could it be…’
Jaganata’s conviction wavered. His senses screamed at him to stop being stubborn.
The burst of light that touched his skin, the scattering flames, the divinity so dazzling it was hard to face directly. And, the experience of having directly confronted it in the past rings a warning bell to Jaganata.
A radiant woman scattering brilliant light. The last time he saw her, she was spreading violence filled with anger. Her actions, devoid of any sanctity and spreading rage, were like the disasters depicted in myths.
Tearing through the heavens, shattering the earth, overturning the world. Her majesty boldly proclaimed even the apostles, who spread the Lord’s gospel, to be mere creatures.
Divinity.
“…He has become more than human.”
Jaganata finally admitted it. Although he didn’t know why, he acknowledges that Glen Prient had attained divinity and was fully capable of destroying an apostle.
Flames erupted!
Above Jaganata’s neck, black flames burst forth, replacing his non-existent head and face, creating a pillar of fire that emitted unbearable heat. From these flames, a long sword resembling a skewer was drawn.
Its intertwined form didn’t look like a sword. However, its thorn-bush-like blades made it exist as a sword.
[Oros]
A sword forged from all the world’s denials absorbed the darkness. The headless angel was ready to bring divine punishment upon this land.
Rumble—
A devastating strike infused with disaster was unleashed. The world expressing destruction crumbled, and the space the sword passed through was erased. Glen confronted it with a sword of light.
Flash—
Power clashed with power. Where the violence touched, destruction descended. Instead of sparks, transcendent light exploded, and instead of storms, destruction wreaked havoc around.
But it was only momentary. The difference between them became clear.
Jaganata was ultimately an apostle. No matter how much he was an avatar of a god, the unbridgeable gap in realms existed against Glen, who had ascended to divinity himself.
Crack!
The demonic sword cracked. Glen stepped forward lightly. That alone was enough to push Jaganata back instantly.
Crash! The sword, unable to withstand, shattered mercilessly.
Once he realized it, there was no retreat, and the headless angel was exposed to a fierce strike pouring down.
Jaganata quickly raised his arm.
The divinity-imbued sword touched the darkness resembling a skewer.
Rumble! Thunder chased the path of the sword.
It didn’t suit the act of bending, but once ascended to divinity, form was not important. As Glen decided to bend it, the apostle’s flesh was relentlessly split.
Squeak!
The apostle’s arm was helplessly cut off, losing its form and falling away.
Glen did not stop there. His goal was the complete eradication of the apostle. As he gathered strength throughout his body to swing his sword again.
“Cough…”
A lump of blood moistened his chin. His realm had risen high, but his body couldn’t keep up.
His body, already at its limit, wouldn’t be strange if it crumbled immediately, and his withered energy center had long been shattered.
However, Glen’s sword did not stop.
Flare up!
A streak of light cut through the pitch-black flesh. Holy flames spread from the streak of light.
“Ah, ah…”
Jaganata felt a burning sensation. The unfamiliar sensation was pain, but the black ring above his head rippled as if dancing with joy.
“Huh, huh.”
It was a laughter-like sob. His body burned alive, the pain devouring his essence, but the sudden pleasure he felt was greater than the pain.
“…”
From his shoulder to his thigh, a line slid down. Darkness like tentacles sprouted from his body, trying to repair itself, but burned to ash by the flames.
Thud!
Unable to withstand the falling force, the body crashed down. Jaganata, already turned to ash, looked up at the man who seemed about to collapse.
His shining golden eyes flickered, and his muddied auburn hair seemed white as if it didn’t belong to the living. It wouldn’t be strange if he died right away.
Then, a popping sound. It wasn’t made by Glen.
“…Why are you laughing?”
Glen separated his cracked lips. He couldn’t see the face the angel was making since it had no head, but Glen felt the escaping air sounded like laughter.
“Because it’s enjoyable.”
Jaganata felt his breaking body and spoke. He might have lost his mind to the approaching death, but his trembling voice denied it.
“The Lord has given me a companion for the journey. Thanks to that, the journey to the afterlife won’t be lonely.”
“Indeed.”
Glen struck down with the light that had yet to extinguish.
Crack!
Thud! Crack!
As if his task was not yet complete, he mercilessly struck down the apostle’s body that had begun to crumble.
“What companion? If you’re going, go ahead by yourself.”
His hand trembled as if he was already losing strength, but his relentless pounding turned Jaganata to dust.
Thump!
Only when there was nothing left to destroy did Glen stop. Thus, Jaganata and even the fragments he held turned to dust and disappeared.
“…I’m getting tired.”
Glen knelt in the ruins that could no longer be called a meadow. He had no strength left in his body, but his heart was pounding as if it would burst any moment, wasting his energy.
Crackle! The sword he was supporting himself with cracked grotesquely. The sword he had wielded for half his life seemed to know its time had come as it slowly crumbled and fell apart.
Thud— Glen’s body collapsed forward. With bloodshot eyes, he looked toward the horizon.
There was nothing on the endlessly stretching meadow.
“…He’s not coming.”
Glen whispered quietly and chuckled. Was the battle too short? He had fought quite grandly, yet no one was coming this way.
‘…It feels empty to die alone.’
He had confidently told the apostle that he was glad to die alone, but as his body cooled and his head boiled with heat, he couldn’t help but feel weak.
“I wish I could have at least made a will.”
Sigh—
He sighed, but all he heard was the deflating sound of the wind. Whether his throat was damaged or his ears were failing, Glen couldn’t tell.
‘…A lonely death.’
Finally, even the energy to move his lips disappeared. A sticky feeling of depletion spread throughout his body, and his eyes slowly closed.
At that moment, as he accepted death.
Whoosh!
A bright light was felt beyond his eyelids.
‘…What?’
Glen shivered with a sudden warm energy. The energy, like breathing air into dying embers, felt like it was breathing new life into him, making even him, who didn’t believe in gods, feel a sense of holiness.
It wasn’t just that.
Glen also felt the circulating flow of souls. His hazy consciousness gradually sharpened, and vitality flowed into his body, which seemed about to fall apart.
A word suddenly came to mind.
Reincarnation.
Glen remembered a story he had once heard from a girl who resembled him.
‘…Is it really reincarnation?’
He continued to deny the ridiculous notion, but denial gradually lost its strength as strangeness slowly returned to his body, wandering in the thick of death.
The warmth grew.
His body was lifted up.
He finally confirmed it. The comforting sensation enveloping his body. Feeling as if he was in his mother’s arms, Glen thought comfortably.
‘I hope this life is just a normal family.’
Not a family of heroes. No demons or angels. Yes, a normal family where there’s no need to wield a sword. He was tired of fighting; even hunting was undesirable.
Still, he didn’t want to be hungry, so he hoped for a well-off family where he wouldn’t have to worry about food.
‘…It would be nice to be born in a bakery.’
He was ready to accept a new life. Eventually, Glen gathered his strength in his eyelids.
“…Siriel?”
“Huh? Brother!”
In front of him was his niece in a slightly messy state. Siriel, carrying Lucia, smiled broadly.
“He really came back to life! Uncle is alive!”
“I knew it.”
“…”
Glen awkwardly moved his stiff neck to look at the sky. There was his son with a weary face.
“…Shiron.”
“Is there anywhere you’re uncomfortable?”
Shiron looked down at Glen. Glen, feeling somewhat embarrassed, turned his flushed face away.
“Why are you reddening your face so grotesquely? Should I help you down?”
“I thought I was reincarnated.”
“What?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
Glen shook his head as if to shake off his forlorn feelings. What he felt on his back was the power of life, the holy method of healing. The warm energy was a trick cast by Shiron.
Glen broke the silence, discarding his lingering thoughts on reincarnation.
“Still, aren’t you going to ask what happened?”
“A lot must have happened.”
“I killed the apostle.”
“Yes, well done.”
Shiron looked at Glen, who seemed a bit proud, and lifted the corners of his mouth. In contrast, Glen stiffened his lips.
“You don’t seem to believe it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You just laughed. It might be hard to believe, but I killed the apostle. I erased his seat with my own power, even without the power of prophecy.”
“Did someone say something? Should I praise you more?”
“…That’s enough.”
Glen turned his head and gazed at the vast meadow. A shadow was seen running from beyond the horizon.
A form both unfamiliar and familiar.
It was his brother’s.
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