Chapter 33
Descent.
Descent.
I followed the Herald of Rest’s back, my mind racing.
Had he noticed I took the divine orb from the tattered giant’s head? Or had he realized I was a worshiper of the evil god? I hadn’t revealed my corrupt divinity since the Herald of Rest appeared. How could he know?
Kill!
Mother’s hand twitched as she whispered to me: Strike first and you’ll win. Wait until he walks by carelessly like that—then smash the back of his skull without mercy.
The Herald of Rest halted.
I gripped the hilt of my frost-steel sword, ready to draw it if needed.
“He comes.”
A brief phrase, yet weighted with gravity. Darkness crawled over his pristine white mask before dripping away. A suffocating presence pressed down on everything around us.
This was a pressure I knew well—the natural aura exuded by beings beyond humanity, those lofty celestial existences.
A fragment of a “god” had descended here.
The Horn of Death and Rest lifted his flowing black robes and extended a single finger. A voice clawing at the deepest parts of my mind pierced my ears and stabbed into my heart.
[Sanctuary.]
The pressure vanished. The darkness receded from his mask. The Herald of Rest gasped for breath, a side effect of hosting a god.
I waited patiently as he recovered, my thoughts churning.
A finger and a sanctuary.
Had a god descended just to tell me I possessed a relic in my sanctuary? Was the Horn of Death and Rest acquainted with Mother Corruption? I’d have to ask her later.
More importantly, if my interpretation was correct, the Horn had recognized me as a priest of corruption. Did that mean his Herald also knew my identity?
“Huuu…”
The Herald, barely composed, stared at me intently.
“Do you have something to say?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t wish to.”
His words were simple: Whatever you are, I won’t interfere.
I smiled faintly and nodded.
“Is that so? Then let’s return.”
Keeping my distance from the Herald, I spoke to Mother.
“Do you know that god from earlier?”
Kill…?
No idea…?
What was happening here?
My head spun with questions as I rejoined my companions.
Carmen, freshly returned, gestured to the city with a bitter smile.
“But seriously—what do we do about this?”
The streets overflowed with corpses, blood, and chunks of flesh. Fires still smoldered in patches.
The Herald withdrew a white horn and blew a soundless note. Corpses littering the streets began rising and shuffling toward the city gates.
Dakia whispered to me, “If the Herald helps, cleanup would be easier, right?”
Carmen nodded. “True, Your Grace. But the undead leaving suggests he has no intention of aiding us.”
“Then we should ask,” Dakia said, golden eyes brightening as she looked at me. “Priest Marnak, could you speak to him? You two seemed close after that secret talk earlier.”
“It wasn’t a conversation—he was speaking with a god. I merely listened.”
“We’re not as close as you think.”
“Then let me ask,” Dakia offered. “Four of us aren’t enough to save everyone.”
The endless procession of undead could save countless lives if redirected. I nodded.
“I’ll ask.”
“Thank you!” She seized my hand, beaming.
Kill!!!
Mother thrashed as I gently pried Dakia’s hand away.
“I’ll go speak to him now.”
Approaching the Herald, I found his blank mask turned toward me. He waited in silence.
“Would you help clean up Eradico?” I asked. “Your undead could search for survivors.”
“Aiding the living isn’t my duty—” He cut himself off with a tired sigh. “What… do you need?”
“Locate survivors and move them to intact buildings.”
He blew his horn. The undead shifted direction, flooding into the city.
“Also salvage supplies before fires consume them. And perhaps extinguish the blazes—”
His featureless mask sharpened toward me.
“State all requests at once. Please.”
“I’ll consult my companions and return with a concise list.”
“…Fine.”
Kill!!!
Mother stretched her hands demandingly in girl form.
“Here, Mother.”
I handed her the orb from Riverkel’s head. She grinned, rolling across the bed with it.
Thanks to the Herald, Eradico’s cleanup progressed swiftly. Undead rescued survivors, doused flames, and gathered supplies while we moved the unconscious to safe buildings. Though unharmed, most hadn’t awakened—their fading divine corruption suggested they’d recover by morning.
When I thanked the Herald, he departed without farewells, leading his undead away. I stopped him to pass over Santhus’s preserved right arm. He took it wordlessly.
We retired to our reserved building, choosing rooms to rest before tomorrow’s final tasks.
Kill!!!
Mother hurled the orb in frustration.
“Mother…?”
She scrambled to retrieve it, pouting as she clutched my arm.
“Is the orb’s divine energy resisting? Persistence will unravel it. But throwing things is poor anger management—you know this.”
Kill…
“You’re hardly useless. You nullified Riverkel’s magic—that was crucial. But promise me something.”
Kill?
Her emerald-and-darkness eyes tilted curiously.
“Promise never to throw things again. You’ll become thrice as charming. People will revere your patience.”
Kill?
“Would that make you thrice as charming to me?”
Kill!
“Sadly, no.”
Kill?!
“But listen—I’m already hopelessly captivated. Triple or hundredfold charm changes nothing.”
Kill…!
Seizing her emotional moment: “So you promise?”
Kill!
“What?! Don’t lie!”
Hilden, eastern branch leader of the underworld syndicate Illeh, slammed his desk.
“Our bribed lord and assassins are dead because of those damn cultists!”
His subordinate bowed deeply.
“Any casualties in the princess’s group?”
“No, sir.”
“Why does this shit only happen to me?!” Slumping into his chair, Hilden groaned. “That dragon-blooded prince will skin me alive…”
Three days later, I ladled stew for Eradico’s citizens.
“Savior! Thank you!”
“That title’s too much,” I said.
“Nonsense!” the crowd cheered. “Long live Eradico’s Savior, Marnak!”
Kill!!!
I suppressed Mother’s cries and kept serving. Today marked our final day before departure.
“Next!”
