Volume 1 Chapter 667
by post_apiChapter 667: The Chaotic Holy Capital
The first clash within the dungeon assembled the Compassionate Knights of the Church of Light, bishop-tier priests, gray-robed agents of the Heretic Tribunal, elite mages from the Wizard Association, and nobles of the Holy Lieto Empire…
Fully aware of the dungeon’s significance, both assailants and defenders had naturally deployed their most formidable forces. By magical standards alone, the average rank among those present hovered around the Superlative Level!
Yet…
When combat finally erupted, no dazzling bursts of Holy Light or arcane explosions materialized.
"Divine Benediction!"
"Sanctified Assault!"
"Flame spirits, heed my summons—"
After the leading figures invoked their techniques or chanted incantations…
They soon discovered, to their profound discomfort…
That nothing transpired.
Precisely because these were all potent beings…
They recognized with alarming swiftness…
That transcendent powers had been nullified in this space.
Every combatant froze mid-motion—to these Superoperators, losing their extraordinary abilities felt akin to being abruptly dismembered.
Yet mere moments later…
They comprehended their adversaries suffered the same deprivation!
The confrontation remained "fair"!
Moreover…
Nearly every individual present harbored objectives worth dying for—and the resolve to see them through.
Thus, after a heartbeat of stillness…
Came an even more ferocious and brutal collision.
"Subjugate these heretics and turncoats!"
"For the Divine Radiance!!"
"I’ll bind these knights—advance and rescue the captives!"
"That viper must not draw another breath!"
"Only by locating Lord Philtes can our design prevail!!"
Roaring their defiance, all abandoned thoughts of supernatural warfare…
And resorted to the most primal form of combat!
Brutal melee!!
Where mortals cannot wield transcendent power,
Warfare never ceases—it merely sheds its splendor.
Extraordinary powers may alter the methods of combat, but that primal ferocity within warriors never diminishes, regardless of changing forms or magnitudes of strength.
As long as the confrontation remains "fair"…
When those with irreconcilable differences meet on a narrow path under extreme circumstances…
Only one road remains—
A fight to the death!
Blood and fire erupted in the dungeon’s depths, where a knight’s blade crossed with a noble’s dress sword, while sparks flew between a mage’s solid wooden wand and an inquisitor’s steel dagger!
Some pressed deeper into the abyss, while others fell where they stood.
Flames, steel, torn flesh, and agonized screams…
Thus began the true chaos in the Holy Capital!
In the deepest cell, Patricia and Dorothy had already made their exit.
The spatial magic scroll from Lolth enabled the two girls to bypass the divine spell restrictions completely.
Their departure wasn’t driven by fear of the carnage…
But rather by unfinished business elsewhere.
Shortly after the young pair vanished,
A new trio materialized at the dungeon entrance.
Kanor, Lalea, and the mage girl observed the turmoil – bloody figures and flaming human shapes bursting through billowing smoke –
Their faces mirroring shared discomfort.
"My, seems someone altered the divine array to expand the suppression field."
"Teacher Lolth truly considers every angle."
Kanor stretched languidly as she spoke.
"Which makes this the perfect moment to slay a demi-god."
Her gaze settled on the trembling mage girl.
"So your ‘Never-ending Night’ master resides here now?"
At Kanor’s query, the mage girl blanched.
"Y-you… plan to kill Lord Philtes of Never-ending Night?"
"Madness! He’s a Great Sage…"
Lalea studied Kanor’s faint smirk. Having partnered with the schemer long enough, she intervened:
"Enough games. This isn’t the time."
Kanor’s laughter tinkled like shattered crystal.
"My apologies. Just easing tension with humor."
Lalea rolled her eyes.
_Nervous?_ She thought, watching the girl’s sparkling eyes.
_This is what she lives for._
It must be the prospect of confronting a "Great Sage" that excited her with its intriguing possibilities.
"So then, what’s our approach regarding this ‘Great Sage’?"
Lalea inquired, her voice tinged with nervous anticipation.
Despite any imposed limitations, this remained an established figure of legendary stature—at minimum a Holy Domain entity, potentially even a demi-god.
"We must force his hidden cards into play. The Wizard Association’s preparations rival those cultists’ schemes. In the Devout Quarter, Master Lolth appears engaged with a divine-level entity… likely a Hell Demon God."
"The Church of Light’s leadership remains locked in mutual restraint, while the dark forces require another balancing counterweight."
"Thus… we need to accelerate the Wizard Association’s contingency measures."
"Only through establishing this precarious equilibrium shall we manifest the precise chaos Teacher Lolth intends to orchestrate."
"Nevertheless, we must confront him with lethal determination. Should he prove a true demi-god… Remember, divine spell arrays crafted by such beings demand we drive him to utter desperation."
As Kanor concluded, Lalea gave a solemn nod.
"Understood."
Their gazes shifted toward the mage apprentice.
"The coming battle involves your direct superior. Your presence is no longer required."
"You’re released from service—pursue whatever desires you wish."
Kanor’s declaration prompted Lalea’s additional warning:
"Though consider this—the Holy Capital grows increasingly perilous. Seeking shelter would be prudent."
The pair turned toward the dungeon entrance, leaving the young mage standing motionless in the rain-drenched night. Moments later, almost unconsciously, she began trailing after them.
Kanor and Lalea noted their shadow but paid little heed.
Beyond the threshold swirled acrid smoke laced with heat—the shattered entryway smoldered with lingering flames from recent explosions. Descending further, they entered the divine spell’s suppression field, their magical capacities instantly constrained.
"Crude restrictions," Kanor observed, testing her internal energies. "This bears Master Lolth’s delegation, not her personal touch. While external spellcasting’s blocked, internal circulation persists… Magic devices and scrolls retain functionality."
Her confidence solidified sensing the Versatile Kitchenware’s muted but present resonance within—its fluid forms now sluggish yet operational.
"My magic’s completely sealed," Lalea murmured. "But Holy Domain adepts might still manifest power through their domains. Our opponent’s Philtes of the Never-ending Night—a veteran Great Sage entrenched here for decades. What odds would you estimate?"
Kanor paused contemplatively.
"Seventy, perhaps eighty percent. Unless…"
Her brow furrowed.
"Should this fanatic prioritize his schemes over survival, our options narrow. The Wizard Association’s informant proved regrettably… limited in psychological insights."
As Kanor spoke, Lalea found herself momentarily at a loss for words.
The reason for her companion’s uncertainty…
Could it stem from not understanding the temperament of "Never-ending Night" Philtes?
This implied that even when confronting a Great Sage, Kanor possessed the confidence to force her opponent into revealing their trump card immediately!
"Very well."
With Lalea’s murmured response, the pair pressed onward into the dungeon’s depths.
The coiled staircase descended relentlessly until they reached the circular chamber serving as the subterranean conflict’s main stage.
Though the initial carnage had been gruesome, the Superoperators’ progress had slowed remarkably after losing their extraordinary powers – these magic-dependent warriors proved astonishingly inept at physical combat.
Lolth’s observation rang true: this world leaned too heavily on supernatural forces, particularly regarding violent endeavors.
Whether in reconnaissance, interrogation, or outright combat…
Their primitive killing techniques proved woefully inadequate!
Despite numerous superficial injuries, only a handful of fatalities or critical wounds had occurred since the initial ambushes.
The rate of effective casualties remained pitifully low.
Amidst the grisly panorama of blood-smeared walls and combatants dripping with gore, Kanor lingered at the threshold with a disappointed sigh.
"Truly, they’re mere puppets dancing to power’s tune…"
Her whispered commentary accompanied an unhurried stride through the battlefield’s heart.
Making no effort to conceal their presence, the two women immediately drew attention from bloodied fighters.
"Ho there! Identify yourselves!"
"Heretic Tribunal reinforcements?"
"Nay, they bear different markings!"
"Halt your advance, damn you!!"
Kanor offered no replies. When overzealous combatants moved to intercept…
The petite figure dispatched them effortlessly with fluid grappling maneuvers and surprising physical prowess.
Lolth’s own limitations in close-quarters combat had shaped Kanor’s unconventional training – instead of traditional martial disciplines, the girl had been schooled in pragmatic fighting techniques and body-enhancement methods.
This resulted in Kanor’s unique approach extending beyond magical studies’ "principle-before-practice" philosophy into physical combat realms.
Her Fighter-class training diverged completely from conventional mana-infused body tempering.
Instead, she embodied forgotten warrior traditions – ancient schools requiring lifetime devotion to perfecting pure technique and raw strength in pursuit of transcendental mastery.
Long abandoned due to their glacial progression speed…
These archaic methods proved ideal for a prodigy like Kanor.
Especially in an environment where magical augmentation remained sealed.
Kanor’s advantage would be magnified infinitely!
She stepped into the battlefield’s muddy chaos, yet flitted through like an ethereal butterfly.
Witnessing Kanor’s seemingly invincible demeanor without supernatural abilities, Lalea trailing closely behind the girl came to grasp…
Exactly why Kanor brimmed with such confidence in cornering "Never-ending Night" Philtes!
For she truly possessed the prowess!
Even if that Great Sage unleashed his Holy Domain—now weakened by both the divine spell formation and the Holy Capital’s magic-hostile environment…
Whether it could hinder Kanor remained shrouded in mystery!
Though this layer was a battlefield of utter chaos, anyone who stood in Kanor’s path was swiftly hurled aside by her.
Before long, everyone moved aside with tacit understanding, avoiding the clearly peculiar girl…
Since she delivered no lethal blows and showed no factional favoritism…
Leaving her undisturbed became the unspoken consensus—a pact embraced by all.
Amid this collective acquiescence, Lalea and Kanor soon reached…
The dungeon’s deepest level.
The most fortified stratum imprisoning prominent figures—including the recently transferred Philtes, Cardinals, Paladin Captains, and the Holy Lieto Empire’s Dukes…
Upon descending, Kanor detected a faint yet recognizable aroma.
Her brows furrowed.
"The scent of Mother’s ‘Slumber Elixir’…"
"So this bears Master Lolth’s signature… Did Sister Dorothy orchestrate everything?"
Her gaze swept across the subterranean cells, every door agape.
Within lay slumbering legends—aged, formidable Superoperators still ensnared in unconsciousness.
Kanor pondered briefly before pressing her index fingertips together, drawing forth a wisp of ashen thread.
Its aura carried such chilling essence that Lalea shuddered involuntarily.
This was the very power that had stealthily claimed cultists’ lives…
The materialized concept of "Death" itself.
Infused with residual magic, this conceptual manifestation persisted—for even active divine spells couldn’t fully suppress "rule" forces.
With a finger-snap, Death’s essence diffused through the cramped chamber.
Yet its diluted form held no lethal potency.
Slaughter wasn’t Kanor’s intent.
She knew precisely how her indolent mother’s Magic Potion operated—
Merely severing the tether between vitality and the corporeal soul.
So, all that was needed was to provide sufficient "stimulation" to rouse them.
The concept of "death" happened to be the most convenient choice.
Shortly after she unleashed it…
The high-ranking Superoperators imprisoned in every cell awoke, precisely as Kanor had intended…
Their consciousnesses returned gradually.
"What happened…?"
"Did I… faint earlier?"
"Rescuers? Who orchestrated this?"
"Why’s the cell door open…?"
"Hey, what’s with that young girl?"
Kanor stood atop the entrance staircase, gazing down at the groaning figures below.
"Secure this area. No one escapes."
She pulled a bundle of scrolls from her robes and shoved them into Lalea’s arms.
"Use them sparingly. We didn’t bring many this time—this is all that’s left!"
"Hold these fools off as long as possible."
Lalea stared at the crudely crafted scrolls in her hands, their surfaces rippling with alarming magical energy. She fell silent.
*This* was considered "not many"?
With this arsenal, not only could she obliterate these currently weakened elders from The Church of Light…
Even at their full power, if Lalea unleashed these scrolls…
Every last legendary figure and Holy Domain member too slow to flee would perish here!
Brushing past the murmuring crowd, Kanor strode directly toward the cell containing the youngest-looking prisoner.
Among the elderly figures radiating holy energy, the barefoot man stood out starkly—his gaunt frame draped in robes that pulsed with Arcane magic.
"Never-ending Night" Philtes.
Upon waking, he’d remained silent, shrewdly analyzing his surroundings.
Only when the "young girl" approached his cell did realization strike…
This intruder’s target was unmistakably himself.
"Here for me again?" He smirked, eyeing Kanor. "How ironic—to be first sought in The Church of Light’s own dungeon."
His gaze sharpened as he sensed the magic swirling around her.
"Which faction of the Wizard Association spawned you? I don’t recognize your aura."
"The Morning Star’s Patricia."
Kanor tossed out the alias casually.
Philtes threw back his head and laughed.
"Cut the nonsense—Patricia came to see me earlier, and your aura is entirely different from hers… The energies surrounding you are far too chaotic."
"You don’t strike me as someone who had a proper mentor… Hmm, perhaps you’re not from our association. If you were truly a disciple of the ‘Wizard Association,’ you wouldn’t be dabbling in so many disciplines without achieving mastery."
"Of course, you might have learned skills elsewhere… But what a tragic waste of promising talent."
Philtes spoke bluntly, launching into pontifications before the petite girl. Though his voice remained calm, it resonated clearly across the dungeon’s deepest level.
Hearing these words, Lalea’s hands froze mid-motion as she sorted scrolls. "This is bad…" she murmured under her breath.
Kanor, standing before Philtes, nodded pensively at his remarks. "Well argued… I’ve reconsidered." A serene smile bloomed across her face as she spoke.
Behind her, the influential figures from The Church of Light and Holy Lieto Empire—previously stirring restlessly in their cells—abruptly ceased their attempts to awaken Holy Light energies within themselves. Primordial survival instincts drove them back to shadowed corners, suppressing their spiritual presence.
Philtes found himself gasping under mounting pressure, the man before Kanor struggling to draw breath. "I’m dead!" The terrifying realization surged through him again—last experienced when brushing against the "Divine Throne" in elemental space and glimpsing that dreadful silhouette!
In desperate reflex, he activated his Holy Domain despite tenfold magic suppression costs. Starless-night darkness engulfed his cell… half a heartbeat too late.
CRASH!!!
Philtes slammed backwards into stone walls, right cheek grotesquely swollen. A bloody spray containing half a molar splattered the floor. Kanor’s hands now shimmered with flowing quicksilver.
"Philtes, Great Sage…" Her tone remained deceptively mild. "Today marks your end." The declaration carried finality of an executioner’s axe.
Meanwhile in Holy Capital’s opposite quarter…
The catalyst for Kanor’s changed decision—her revered mentor—remained vigilant after unleashing space-annihilating magic potent enough to slay deities. She’d lost track of the "Cunning Demon God," precisely why unease gnawed at her.
That last strike possessed god-killing force… Yet Nonolanti wouldn’t perish so easily! Hell’s Five Pillar Demon Gods dwarfed common deities—incapable of being utterly vaporized. This trickster deity must be hiding… and after her initial assault, had burrowed deeper into concealment.
Though magical scans swept every crevice… Lolth momentarily found no traces. "Where did you slither away…?" She pondered, brow furrowing slightly. Rain-sheeted darkness revealed nothing. "Could retreat…?"
"No… He descended to Church’s Holy Capital precisely because I captured all his cultivated infiltrators among the elite… Unlike previous evil gods or Trish Diana… I alone embody his true objective. His manifestation becomes meaningless unless I’m eliminated."
As Lolth continued searching, rain suddenly rippled with splashing footsteps. "Lolthlinda—!" Patricia’s ragged cry pierced the downpour. Turning, Lolth saw the bloodied woman staggering through the storm, soaked garments clinging. "There’s… evil god manifestation… Dorothy’s in peril… I failed… couldn’t stop…"