Chapter 307 : The Miracle Bestowed by the Lord
Chapter 307: The Miracle Bestowed by the Lord
His body slowly rose, his vision lifting higher. George saw Olivia.
At this moment, Olivia was kneeling on one knee, her sword thrust into the earth, while red-colored magic swirled around her body. That drifting magic was frozen in place.
George saw the dragon-eagle, now entirely turned to gold and coiled up. He could even directly see Richard within the golden dragon-eagle. Protected by the dragon-eagle and nourished by its slowly flowing magic, Richard’s life was gradually reviving.
George saw the golden lion that was utterly still, staring at him.
He could see its trembling eyes, brimming with fear.
Was it fear of the Frost Giant holding the massive axe? Or was it fear of… “me”?
His vision continued rising, surpassing the Frost Giant’s towering height, reaching beyond the storm of frost. Looking around, George could see the entirety of the Greenwood.
He saw the frozen Eastern Expedition Army, who had been slaughtering the Fishmen in the trenches. He could even clearly see the fear on the ferocious faces of the Fishmen.
He saw, in the northeastern sky, the frozen thick clouds, and between them, an orb formed by three unknown substances connected together. Within that orb was a whirlpool that seemed to lead to another world, though it too was frozen still.
On the ground, a man sat upon an open-air stone throne. George knew him well. Back when George was still a monk, he and Ando had hunted down this evil man—the one who had embraced the power of the Lord of Dominion. Although this man was now frozen, George felt as if some presence was gazing at him directly through the man’s eyes.
His vision drifted slightly downward. On the land corrupted by Original Sin, a massive black cocoon stood silently. Surrounding it, circles of shriveled, skeletal Original Sin Believers were kneeling in worship.
Then, looking southward, George saw an armored man kneeling before a majestic figure dressed in splendid robes.
“That is the Emperor of the Altlinsmann Empire… and Lord Helvin’s only child.” George felt as if he heard a voice narrating to him. That voice seemed to be his own—from the future.
It looked like a knight swearing fealty to his liege.
Then he looked westward. There, Bishop Jeremiah sat upon a high platform with the wife of the Border Marquis of the Principality of Valorian, witnessing Gregor and the Border Marquis’s knight locked in a duel. George could even see the heroic spirit frozen on Gregor’s face.
At last, his gaze returned downward, to the moment when the axe and the lion were about to clash.
Slowly, George felt his right hand rise. Then, lightly, it pointed between the axe and the lion.
In that instant, George felt as if his will was “released.” When it touched the frost storm, his will smoothed it away, followed by the colossal phantoms.
The phantom of the Frost Giant wielding a giant axe, and the roaring golden lion phantom, melted away as if dissolved.
His will pressed downward, brushing the golden lion. It was like a gentle flick of the finger—suddenly, the golden lion shattered and vanished. When his will touched the Frost Giant buried in gold, George felt every drop of its flesh stripped bare. The immense power hidden within was nullified, leaving behind only mere flesh. When his will swept past, the Frost Giant’s life was erased utterly.
His will brushed against the golden sphere of the dragon-eagle, dispelling the corrosion that had turned its body golden. At the dragon-eagle’s heart, his will left a Blessing. It erased the will of the Great Annihilation within Richard’s body, and in the depths of Richard’s will, a Blessing was planted.
Afterward, his will suddenly accelerated into the earth. In an instant, it spread outward, dispersing the frost covering the land. Trees, flowers, and grass seemed to be blessed, growing lusher and greener. His will spread on and on, until it covered the entirety of the Greenwood, before it finally stopped.
His vision slowly descended. When his feet touched the ground again, the hands that had seemed to cradle his will faded away, and he found that he could control his own body once more.
George thought, his fingers trembling slightly.
At once, the magic surrounding Olivia burst forth violently. Crimson magic surged upward like a pillar of light, blasting a crater into the earth, twisting the golden edges around it.
The force of the eruption caught George off guard, blowing him back instantly.
But soon, Olivia realized the battle had already ended. She immediately drew back her magic. Seeing George climbing to his feet, unharmed by her outburst, she finally breathed in relief.
She glanced at the golden land that remained, at the wildly growing weeds, and at the trembling golden lion retreating back into her eyes.
Olivia sighed and said, “Ah, in the end, it was still Father who intervened.”
George only stood in silence, feeling his wounds vanish, and his armor restored.
Olivia walked over and said, “Are you alright?”
George shook his head, hesitated for a moment, then said, “I feel… very good now.”
Olivia’s eyes lit up as she looked him up and down. She said, “Mm, indeed, very good.”
Then, with a tinge of regret, she added, “What a pity you are a Holy Knight of the Church. If only you were an ordinary knight.”
But suddenly, she froze, then ignored George, rushing toward the dragon-eagle.
Richard was not a knight of the Church. Olivia thought to herself—Richard, who had slaughtered Fishmen, would surely, when needed, stand with her to cut down people as well.
Unlike George, who only struck down sinners.
…
The Frost Giant fell in Greenwood.
And the ones who killed the Frost Giant were George, Holy Knight of the Church, and Richard, Commander of the Oath Knights.
With the Frost Giant’s death, strange phenomena erupted across Greenwood. Plants surged wildly, blocking roads, villages, and cities.
At first, the common folk were terrified. But the priests stood forth and proclaimed: Greenwood was under the Lord’s protection, it was the land the Lord had blessed, and this was a miracle bestowed by the Lord.
The people hesitated slightly, but then followed the priests. They tore apart the weeds blocking their villages and towns, ran into the fields, and saw winter wheat already ripened.
They rejoiced, lifting praises to the Lord’s Blessing, and under the priests’ guidance, they harvested the wheat.
It was now the sowing season. If they hurried, they could reap this crop and plant another before the season ended.
Within days, the Senate decreed: this harvest of wheat was the Lord’s Blessing upon Greenwood. It would not be taxed. Every commoner could store it in their own cellars.
The cheers of the people grew even louder. For a time, news of the Frost Giant’s death was cast aside.
After all, what was a mythical Frost Giant compared to the reality of wheat in their hands?
But those who understood the Frost Giant’s significance did not dismiss the matter.
“There lies a land of gold. If it were pressed into York Gold Coins, it would be enough to pile into mountains.” Puniel stood at the table, arms wide, emphasizing the enormity of his words.
Bevan spoke with some irritation, “So what? Agamemnon has already declared that all of that gold will be taken by the Monastery. Within a month, the Monastery will mint three million York Gold Coins, and we are required to circulate them before the end of this year.”
“I don’t even know how to distribute so many. Those impoverished and backward nobles have nothing to sell us. This is three million York Gold Coins, and there are only three months left until year’s end.”
Though he had profited in past dealings, after Agamemnon emphasized that number, Bevan dared not touch even a fraction. Between pocketing gold and losing both his life and power, he knew well which weighed heavier.
Puniel said, “Three million coins are nothing. Not even a corner of that golden land would be spent.”
His eyes glowed red.
Running the Mercenary Tavern, he had little chance to profit. He even had to spend heavily to win over powerful mercenaries.
Though he raised Dark Creatures in the dungeons, the gold he earned had to be shared with mercenaries. And since the Monastery was the main buyer of these creatures, how could he dare raise the price when the Monastery demanded them?
After all, the Church only tolerated his dealings by turning a blind eye. If he dared overstep, Puniel was sure the Church would simply replace him—and the other nobles would hardly refuse such a change.
In fact, some had already begun doing so.
The dungeons beneath the Northwind Mountains were vast, and this was not the only entrance. Others had discovered different access points. Even without Cicero clearing the way for them, they found their own crude methods.
Thus, as more nobles sent their agents into the dungeons, Puniel’s control inevitably weakened.
And with the Monastery publishing designs for catapults and ballistae made from Dark Creature materials, demand had soared.
Bevan cast Puniel a glance, unwilling to waste words on this desperate, money-mad fool.
Bevan managed trade taxes and merchants, and the merchants brought him tributes without him spending a coin. Compared to Puniel, Bevan lacked for nothing. Having seen the golden land, he was not so blinded by greed as Puniel.
Turning to Jeffrey, Bevan said, “The King of the North has issued a decree allowing mercenaries to remain. That former Church knight fulfilled his promise. Now then, what do you plan to do?”
Jeffrey looked at Bevan and said, “Naturally, to pay the former Church knight his due reward. What else?”
The Senate consisted only of the three of them. Their discussion naturally concerned the affairs of the North.
Bevan frowned. “But things are not as before. The Church has slain the Frost Giant, and you should know well what the Frost Giant meant to the North. Before it came, it even destroyed a Marquis’s fortress.”