Chapter 80 Reunion
Chapter 80 Reunion
“Alessandra!” Iryoku shouted, quickly pulling his harpoon's rope and latching onto her. He yanked her toward him—but she swung her sword in a flash.
He barely dodged the slash.
“What are you doing?! It's me—Iryoku!”
They both landed hard in the middle of the street. Alessandra now stood with only her sword—she’d dropped her shield during the clash.
She narrowed her eyes.
“Who are you?”
Iryoku yanked off his hood, frustration etched across his face.
“It’s me—Iryoku! You can stop pretending. Let’s get out of here—now. Pronto!”
But Alessandra just stared at him, her expression grave.
“You’ve got the wrong person, heretic.”
Without warning, she surged forward, golden light flaring around her. She moved with terrifying speed—Iryoku barely dodged as her sword smashed clean through the wall of a nearby house, completely destroying it.
Dust and debris exploded into the air. She turned back to him, pointing her blade, her voice cold as ice.
"You will die here.”
Iryoku finally snapped.
“What the hell happened to you?! Did they brainwash you or something?! Don’t you remember me? Don’t you remember Yumi and Reika—your students?!”
Her serious expression faltered.
A flicker of pain crossed her face. She stumbled slightly, clutching her head.
“W-What… is this…?” she muttered, staring at the young man in front of her. His face was blank—empty, unrecognizable—yet for a split second, it materialized into someone she almost remembered.
Iryoku took a slow step forward, his voice colder now, more deliberate.
“What about Kei and Kota? Are you seriously going to say you don’t know who they are?”
Alessandra froze. She clutched her head tighter, struggling to make sense of the whirlwind in her mind. Obscured faces flashed behind her eyes—distant, blurry, unreachable.
Iryoku exhaled sharply.
“Let’s just get out of here for now… We’ve been looking for you for so long. The girls—Yumi and Reika—they’re dying to see you again.”
His voice softened.
“I am too...”
He reached out slowly, his hand inching toward hers—
But she suddenly unleashed another powerful slash. Iryoku dropped low, narrowly dodging the golden arc of her blade. In one fluid motion, he kicked her in the midsection, using the recoil to launch himself backward and put distance between them.
Before he could speak again, the street lit up with golden light.
More knights arrived, surrounding them—along with the Blessed Child and the high priest.
“Kill that heretic!” the priest bellowed.
The Blessed Child raised a hand, and another golden arrow of light shot toward Iryoku. He prepared to dodge.
But just as it was about to hit, a thunderous explosion rocked the cathedral rooftop behind them, shaking the ground. Debris rained down from above.
In the chaos, Iryoku vanished into the shadows—gone before any of them could react.
Alessandra clutched her head as a sharp pain surged through her skull. She dropped to her knees, a sudden migraine crashing into her like a wave.
The Blessed Child—Bereket—rushed to her side and knelt beside her, panic in his voice.
“Protector Blaze! Are you alright? Did that heretic hurt you? Please, answer me!”
His voice was filled with genuine worry.
“Please… say something, Sister Blaze.”
Alessandra—now known as Blaze—took a shaky breath and slowly rose to her knees. Her face was pale, her eyes unfocused.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace,” she murmured.
“I’m fine. It was… probably some kind of psychological attack.”
Bereket gripped Blaze’s hand, still visibly concerned, and helped her to her feet. He turned sharply to the surrounding clergy.
“Take Protector Blaze to the healing ward. Now.”
His voice was commanding, leaving no room for hesitation.
“I’m fine, Your Grace,” Blaze insisted—but her body swayed, her legs barely holding her up.
Bereket barked the order again, louder this time.
Two priestesses rushed over and gently supported Blaze by the arms.
High Priest Asterius turned toward Bereket, his eyes blazing with fervor.
“It is time,” he declared, his voice thick with righteous fury. “With your divine blessing, we shall cleanse this sacred ground of filth. The heretics will fall. Their corruption will be burned away by holy fire!”
Bereket, watching Blaze being taken away, gave a grim nod and rushed forward with his entourage.
“Don’t worry,” Bereket shouted to the others as he turned toward the outer walls. “We will destroy the invaders and purge them!”
“For the Dominion of the Light!”
The others echoed in unison,
“For the Dominion of the Light!”
The priestesses guided Blaze into the cathedral, down the stone steps into the basement chambers.
There, they laid her carefully on a bed in one of the healing wards and began to channel restorative magic. A soft glow enveloped her body, soothing her pain and gradually restoring her strength.
She tried to sit up, but one of the priestesses gently pressed a hand to her shoulder.
“Please, Sister Blaze. Rest. If anything happens to you, we don’t know how the Blessed Child would react. You’re important—to him and to the entire Order.”
Blaze exhaled heavily, feeling the exhaustion catch up with her.
She let herself relax… and slowly closed her eyes.
“Ah… ahaha…”
Alessandra ran through the forest, panting and exhausted. Her armor was cracked and broken. Her shield and weapon were gone.
She had nothing—only the will to keep moving.
Behind her, a group of furious demihumans gave chase—firing spells, loosing arrows, even hurling rocks. Their eyes burned with fury. Rage surged through their ranks like a flood.
“What do I do… what do I…?” Alessandra gasped between breaths, veering left, then right, dodging trees and debris, desperately trying to lose them.
Until she stopped—frozen in place.
A sheer mountain wall loomed before her, an immovable barrier.
A dead end.
She looked right. Left.
No escape.
The demihumans burst into view moments later, slowing as they saw her cornered. A towering tiger-man stepped forward, growling deep in his chest. He looked far more ferocious—more animal than man—compared to the others.
“You finally stopped, vermin,” he snarled.
His upper body was massive—muscled and striped, claws flexing at his fingertips.
The others spread out, forming a loose semicircle, grinning with cruel anticipation.
The tiger-man lunged with a roar.
Alessandra moved, coating her arm with leben. She raised it in an arc, intercepting the strike and avoiding his claws. The blow was stopped—but just barely. She spun and kicked at his ribs.
But he caught her leg in one powerful arm, yanked her forward—and brought his fist crashing down on her head with a sickening thud.
She collapsed to the ground, blood oozing from her scalp.
Alessandra’s blurred eyes stared up at her attackers, her vision dimming. Her eyelids fluttered shut...
But just before she blacked out—
She saw it.
A golden light.
Then, nothing.
Blaze’s eyes snapped open. She sat up abruptly, clutching her head.
“What was that…?” she whispered.
"Something from before I came here?”
Her mind swirled in chaos. She looked around the ward—rows of injured people rested in beds.
The invaders…
She stood quickly, swaying slightly but regaining her balance, and made her way out of the room.
In the hallway, she spotted one of the priestesses who had tended to her earlier.
“Sister Clarissa,” Blaze called, her voice sharp. “Quickly, what’s the status of the invasion?”
The priestess turned in surprise.
“Sister Blaze—you should still be resting,” she said, clearly concerned.
“Don’t worry. His Grace Bereket and the Order already took care of those animals.”
A heavy weight seemed to lift from her chest as Blaze made her way out of the basement and stepped through the cathedral doors.
The morning sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting soft golden light over the damaged city.
“I was out for a couple of hours…” she murmured.
Around her, the aftermath of battle was clear. Several buildings were damaged or in ruins. Knights rushed through the streets—helping the wounded, ushering civilians, and restoring order.
She walked with purpose, heading toward the front wall of the city.
There, she saw the main gates—one of them blown apart, its twisted remains still smoldering. The other hung wide open.
Outside, the scene was grim.
The open field beyond the walls was littered with corpses—mostly demihumans. A few members of the Order lay among them, but the scale of slaughter was one-sided.
Blaze’s gaze shifted to the gathering near the gates.
At the center stood the Blessed Child, flanked by the High Priest and several of the Order’s leading knights. Around them, dozens of captured demihumans knelt on the ground—bound and bleeding, some unconscious.
One of the knights—Destroyer Slash—stepped forward, dragging a bulky, bloodied dwarf by the collar.
The dwarf had no hands, and his face was pale from blood loss. Still, he breathed.
“This is the last one, Your Grace. The rest escaped,” Slash reported, dropping the dwarf’s limp body in front of the High Priest.
The old priest narrowed his eyes and snapped his fingers sharply.
Two nearby knights moved instantly, grabbing the unconscious prisoners and roughly shaking them awake.
“Wake up, you lowly lives!” one of them barked.
Groans filled the air as the wounded captives were dragged upright to face judgment.
High Priest Asterius began to pace in front of the prisoners and his gathered clergy. His expression was dark, his steps heavy with anger. He muttered a prayer under his breath, but his clenched jaw and furrowed brow betrayed more fury than faith.
Then he stopped.
“Cull everyone except one,” he ordered coldly. “Interrogate the survivor.”
Without waiting for a reply, he turned back to the group and snarled, “This sets us back—slightly.”
His gaze swept over the Order’s senior ranks as Blaze joined them.
“This cannot continue,” he said, voice rising. “If we are ever to reclaim our rightful place… if we are to return to our motherland… then we must act with divine resolve!”
He turned and looked directly at Bereket.
“Dear child, I implore you. Only you have the power to raise humankind to glory.”
A reverent silence fell. The surrounding knights and priests turned their eyes toward the Blessed Child, gazing upon him with awe.
Bereket raised his voice, strong and clear.
“For the Dominion of the Light.”
The others echoed in unison,
“For the Dominion of the Light.”
Blaze took a deep breath, calming the turmoil in her mind.
Don’t think about the past, she told herself. The present is what matters now.