Chapter 206 - 205 : Darkness vs Light (1)
Night draped itself over Elvania like a silken cloak.
High above, the moon hung full and bright in the sky, its pale silver light spilling across the land and turning the World Tree into an ethereal monument. Its massive trunk rose like a pillar into the heavens, while its vast canopy stretched endlessly across the night.
Near its roots, patches of bark had been blackened by Astarte’s presence and the deathly mana she commanded, yet beneath the moonlight, even that darkness seemed strangely serene.
The air around the World Tree felt peaceful.
Quiet.
Almost sacred.
On the balcony of one of the mansion’s upper rooms, Arthur stood alone.
His hands rested on the cool stone railing as the gentle night breeze brushed against his face. The wind carried the faint scent of leaves, damp earth, and the subtle pulse of mana that constantly surrounded the World Tree.
He inhaled slowly.
Calming his thoughts.
’Two days,’ Arthur thought. ’We’re leaving in two days.’
His mind wandered through half-formed plans, lingering worries, and the excitement of the dragon he had slain. The golden egg rested safely inside the mansion, but for now, he allowed himself a rare moment of peace.
Then he heard it.
Noise.
Faint at first—like distant thunder—but unmistakable.
The clash of steel.
Screams.
The sounds of battle drifted through the wind from the opposite direction of Elvania’s main city, far beyond the World Tree’s roots and the edge of the forest.
Arthur’s eyes narrowed.
He recognized that direction.
The western region opposite to the kingdom of Elvania.
The outer territory surrounding the World Tree.
And as a vampire, he sensed far more than sound.
He smelled blood.
An overwhelming amount of it.
’They’re fighting,’ Arthur thought. ’And it’s far more than a simple skirmish.’
Curiosity stirred within him.
He exhaled quietly.
"Come out," Arthur said.
Beside the balcony, the darkness suddenly thickened.
A shadow materialized in the open air, stretching like spilled ink before twisting into shape. It expanded, taking the form of massive wings, a long neck, powerful limbs, and a horned head.
Within moments, a dragon stood in the garden below.
Barbatos.
His shadow.
Even as nothing more than a living shadow, he was imposing—a colossal black silhouette with hollow, glowing eyes. His enormous claws pressed into the earth as he landed silently before lowering his head in respect.
He bowed to Arthur.
Arthur smiled faintly.
"Can’t you make yourself a little smaller?" he asked.
The giant dragon paused.
For a brief moment, he genuinely seemed to consider the request.
Then, much to Arthur’s surprise, Barbatos slowly raised one enormous claw...
...and gave him a thumbs-up.
Arthur blinked.
’You... actually understood that?’
The dragon’s body rippled.
Shadow compressed inward as his massive frame rapidly shrank. Within seconds, he was reduced to a much more manageable size—still enormous by ordinary standards, but no longer towering over the mansion. His folded wings rested comfortably against his sides, and he lowered himself enough for Arthur to climb aboard with ease.
Arthur vaulted over the balcony railing.
He landed lightly on the ground before swinging himself onto Barbatos’s back, settling comfortably between the base of his wings.
A notification appeared in his vision.
[ 500 Mana will be consumed per second to maintain this Shadow. ]
Arthur winced.
"Wow..."
"You consume an absurd amount of mana."
He quickly calculated the cost.
"I can only keep you summoned for about thirty minutes."
Barbatos tilted his head, seemingly confused.
Arthur sighed.
"Looks like becoming a shadow cost you the ability to speak."
He patted the dragon’s neck.
"Well, whatever. The Shadow System is only Level 1. I shouldn’t expect much."
His hand lingered for another moment.
"I’ll figure out how to level it up later."
Barbatos spread his wings.
A powerful gust erupted beneath them.
The next instant, the shadow dragon launched into the night sky.
───────────────
The forest shrank beneath them as they climbed higher.
The cool night wind rushed past Arthur’s face, tugging gently at his hair. Flying high above the treetops on the back of a dragon filled him with an exhilarating sense of freedom. Bathed in silver moonlight, the world below looked peaceful and impossibly small.
’This feels amazing,’ Arthur thought.
’I could get used to this.’
He pointed toward the distant battlefield.
"Head that way."
Barbatos adjusted his wings.
He climbed even higher, gliding through the colder layers of the atmosphere. His shadowy body blurred at the edges, making him nearly impossible to notice against the darkness of the night.
Soon...
They reached the source of the disturbance.
Arthur’s eyes widened.
───────────────
At the edge of the forest—and stretching far beyond it—a vast army of undead covered the land like a tide of death.
There were thousands.
Skeleton warriors marched in disciplined ranks, rusted swords and battered shields clutched in skeletal hands.
Rotting zombies stumbled forward, their vacant eyes glowing with sickly green light.
Decaying ogres swung enormous clubs with terrifying strength.
Towering bone golems, stitched together from the remains of countless monsters, advanced like moving fortresses.
Above them floated liches in tattered robes, chanting ancient incantations as black mana gathered around their skeletal hands. Behind the main force stood death mages, weaving curses, poisonous mists, and torrents of dark energy.
It was an army unlike anything Arthur had ever witnessed.
A terrifying sea of death.
Yet...
They weren’t advancing.
They were holding their ground.
Protecting the forest.
Facing them stood another army.
Much smaller.
Barely a hundred people.
Yet not a single one of them looked ordinary.
Each radiated holy light.
Their silver-and-gold armor was engraved with crosses and sacred symbols. Brilliant radiance flowed from every knight like sunlight itself, forming glowing blades, shimmering barriers, and divine auras that forced the undead to recoil instinctively.
At the very front stood a man and a woman.
Their armor was even more ornate, decorated with intricate engravings surrounding the Church’s sacred crest. Their holy power was so overwhelming that the light itself seemed to bend around them.
The woman possessed radiant golden eyes that shone warmly even beneath the cold moonlight. Her black hair was tied neatly behind her head, and she stood with unwavering confidence. In her hand rested a longsword overflowing with holy energy.
Beside her stood a man with black hair and deep brown eyes. Calm yet unyielding, he carried a massive sword in one hand and a shield bearing the sacred cross in the other. His presence resembled an unbreakable fortress.
Leonis.
Scarlett.
The two highest-ranking Holy Knights of the Church.
The moment Arthur recognized them, surprise flashed across his face.
’Holy Knights... from the Holy Empire.’
’Every single one of them.’
Their reputation echoed across the entire continent.
Warriors blessed by the Goddess of Life and Light.
Champions who existed solely to eradicate demons, undead, and all forms of darkness.
Although they numbered only around a hundred...
Not one of them showed even the slightest hint of fear.
Instead...
Their eyes gleamed with anticipation.
As though they were staring at prey.
Leonis raised his sword.
Scarlett did the same.
The Holy Knights behind them instantly shifted into formation.
Shields locked together.
Swords angled forward.
Bows drawn.
Priests and priestesses gathered behind the front lines, their hands clasped in prayer as gentle holy light flowed around them.
"Formation," Leonis commanded.
His voice was calm but carried absolute authority.
Scarlett’s golden eyes sharpened.
"Advance."
"Do not falter."
The Holy Knights surged forward.
They crashed into the undead army like a spear piercing rotten flesh.
Despite being outnumbered nearly ten to one, they carved through the undead ranks with terrifying efficiency.
Holy light incinerated rotting flesh.
Blessed blades split skeletons apart with effortless strikes.
Arrows of radiant energy pierced liches, shattering their phylacteries in brilliant explosions.
Glowing shields repelled curses and waves of dark mana before they could reach the front line.
But Arthur quickly realized something.
The undead weren’t their true objective.
They were merely...
A barrier.
A blockade protecting whatever lay deeper within the forest.
The battlefield erupted with countless miracles.
Some knights summoned spears of light that rained from the heavens like meteors, annihilating entire groups of zombies.
Others raised immense barriers of holy light that completely neutralized poison and curses.
One priestess lifted her staff.
The earth beneath a swarm of undead suddenly glowed.
A heartbeat later—
Light exploded from the ground.
Everything caught within it was reduced to ash.
Whenever a knight suffered even the smallest injury—a ghoul’s claws grazing an arm or a cursed arrow slipping past a shield—the priests reacted instantly.
Healing magic poured across the battlefield.
A knight whose shoulder had been torn open watched flesh regenerate before his eyes.
Another whose leg had shattered felt every broken bone reconnect in seconds.
A third whose chest had been pierced by a rusted spear saw the wound close as though it had never existed.
Miracles.
Again and again.
Leonis fought like an immovable fortress, blocking monstrous blows with his shield before answering with devastating holy strikes that erased dozens of undead at once.
Scarlett was completely different.
She moved like living light.
Elegant.
Fast.
Every swing of her sword carved brilliant arcs through the darkness, cleanly cutting down anything unfortunate enough to stand before her.
"This is the closest we’ve ever come!" Scarlett shouted, her voice ringing across the battlefield.
"Do not falter!"
She flashed past a towering bone golem.
Several streaks of light crossed its enormous body.
A second later—
The giant construct collapsed into pieces.
"This time..."
"We will not fail!"
Nearby, Leonis smashed through a lich with his shield before bringing his greatsword down in a devastating strike that split its skull apart.
"The evil dragon is already dead!" Scarlett declared.
"Our path is finally open!"
High above the battlefield, Arthur watched everything unfold from Barbatos’s back.
The undead.
The overwhelming death mana.
Their coordinated defense.
There was no doubt.
This entire undead army belonged to Astarte.
The Holy Knights were fighting their way through it for one purpose.
To enter the forest.
’Are they after Astarte?’ Arthur wondered.
’What’s their real objective?’
His thoughts drifted toward Erica.
’Did Erica ask the Church for help?’
He immediately dismissed the possibility.
’No... the Pope isn’t that kind.’
’And they already know Barbatos is dead.’
The Holy Knights continued advancing.
Step by step, they carved a path through the undead ranks.
They were only moments away from breaking through the defensive line and entering the forest—
When it happened.
A scream.
It wasn’t terrifying because of its volume.
It was terrifying because of its existence.
A shriek of pure horror echoed across the battlefield.
It bypassed the ears completely.
Instead...
It clawed directly into the soul.
Arthur froze.
It felt exactly like the first time he had encountered Astarte.
The scream shook reality itself.
The trees trembled violently.
Even the undead staggered.
The Holy Knights stopped where they stood.
Cold sweat poured down their faces as instinct screamed at them to run.
Arthur’s breathing hitched.
An overwhelming sense of primal fear gripped his heart.
Then...
Something emerged from the darkness of the forest.
An abomination.
A small figure slowly stepped into the moonlight.
At first glance...
It looked like a little girl.
But only at first glance.
Her body wasn’t made of flesh.
It was made entirely of darkness.
She possessed the silhouette of a young child—small and slender—but every inch of her was covered in absolute blackness, as though she had been dipped into living ink that consumed all light.
She had no face.
No nose.
No lips.
No expression.
Only a perfectly smooth void where a face should have been.
Her eyes...
Were empty hollows.
Yet the moment she turned toward the Holy Knights—
Arthur felt her gaze.
She looked directly at them.
At the overwhelming radiance surrounding them.
At the holy light that filled the battlefield.
When she finally spoke...
Her voice was slow.
Hollow.
Wrong.
It echoed unnaturally, as though countless voices were speaking at once.
"Will you become my family?"
The temperature plummeted.
The forest fell silent.
For the first time that night...
The Holy Knights did not move.
And Arthur—
Watching from high above—
Realized something.
Whatever that little girl was...
She didn’t feel like a creature born into this world.
As she slowly walked toward the Holy Knights...
It wasn’t like watching someone approach.
It was like watching death itself take form.