Sword Hill. Gunther stared at Raymond’s corpse with a dim gaze for a while, then slowly turned his head.
“...This feels like absolute shit.”
By his estimate, this iteration had already failed. The holy sword, reduced to nothing but a hilt because of corrupted chivalry. The ruined capital. He needed to reset... But the problem was what would come after.
He did not know how many more times he would have to kill Raymond. The vile burden he had to bear as a Regressor clung to Gunther’s thoughts like sticky mud.
[Three gods stare at you intently]
Gunther gave a faint smile at their worried looks.
“It’s not the first time...”
The minute of sentimentality was over. It was time to move. Gunther’s gaze turned toward the foot of the hill. The situation seemed to be growing more catastrophic by the moment. The fires and screams that had once come only from the slums had spread to the center of the city. The citizens, having broken free of control, were running around in panic, and the forces of law and order were helplessly drowning in the chaos.
“...It’s just ridiculous.”
Gunther laughed bitterly. No, seriously, how could they possess such overwhelming power and still allow themselves to be crushed so one-sidedly? Even if the kingdom’s elite were currently out on Laska Plain, they looked far too pathetic.
“Which means I...”
Had to see the process of the capital’s fall with his own eyes. He had to understand why they had lost so miserably. Only by knowing that could he prepare in the next life.
Shhhk—
Gunther drove his battered body toward the city center. ...Even in this nightmare, there were a few pieces of good news.
The first.
[Vanguard of the Dark Night beckons to you with a meaningful smile]
[The location of the nearest sanctuary dedicated to him is engraved into your mind]
At that same moment, a string of images flashed before his eyes. Blade-sharp reefs; a shoreline against which blue-black waves crashed. And there, in one corner, a gloomy coastal cave with its maw hanging open. A place where wind and current converged.
“...He really picked the perfect spot for a sanctuary.”
[For providing him with a pleasing spectacle, Vanguard of the Dark Night returns one of your “powers”]
Fwoosh—
A faint warmth spread across his back. The sensation was like something being branded into his skin. It was not the kind of heat that engulfed the whole back, like in Raymond’s case. The stigma was limited to one shoulder blade. A pattern interwoven with fangs and chains pulsed faintly.
Ding!
[Stigma: Oath of Night partially activated]
[Absolute evasion increased]
[Function unlocked: Shadow Leap]
You can move between shadows. However, because the Stigma is incomplete, both the number of uses and the leap distance are strictly limited.
As always when receiving a Stigma, a story connected to that deity flashed before Gunther’s eyes. The same lingering image he had also seen with Raymond.
A hero thrown into prison on false charges. His family had been taken hostage, and while waiting for a phantom release, he was sent to the front again and again. There, beyond the Northern Sea, where the shadow legions of an evil god advanced in endless waves.
But his family had long since died under torment and abuse. The moment he learned the truth, the hero turned away from humanity and entrusted himself to “Night.” And for a time, he became a horror that covered the entire continent in shadow.
[Vanguard of the Dark Night disappears as though dissolving into shadow]
A betrayed hero who became a traitor. That was the story of Vanguard of the Dark Night.
Gunther knew that deities like this were dangerous. Gunther himself usually tried to save people. But beings like these, whose hatred and distrust of humanity were rooted in the deepest depths, could sometimes interfere with that. And even so—
“I need this right now.”
At a moment when he might have to face the absolute violence of the “Embodiment of Justice,” a power called “Absolute Evasion” was far too desirable a gift.
Tap-tap—
The destination had already been decided.
Whoosh—
Gunther’s figure accelerated.
***
“What a disgrace. Honestly.”
Rev, Embodiment of Justice, looked around with obvious displeasure. The hastily erected infirmary had been smashed so badly that almost nothing remained of it.
Right in the middle of that chaos, one corpse thrown aside carelessly held her gaze for a long time.
“What an idiot.”
Who would have thought that the Archbishop of Repose would die in a place like this? Rev irritably scratched the back of her head. She could not understand at all how events could have unfolded in such a way that someone as calculating as him had died so absurdly. To be honest, she did not even want to think about it. She was not the type who liked complicated calculations.
“I dropped everything important and rushed all the way here... and now what?! I already knew where this was heading the moment he volunteered to go check on those ‘failures.’”
She could only glare resentfully at Masiu. ...From Masiu’s point of view, that was deeply unfair. Even he could not have foreseen a variable like “relics of ancient gods.” If not for those, according to Masiu’s plan, all the members of Night Raven should have been subdued.
“I should’ve just gone to Sword Hill from the start...”
But what was done was done.
Masiu had been turned into pulp. No, even the word “pulp” was too mild. His head, which had always worn that sickly sweet smile, had simply vanished without a trace.
There had apparently been someone highly experienced among the enemy. Considering the possible involvement of the Cult of Healing, the enemy had crushed him in a way that left not the slightest chance of resurrection. Setting aside exceptional cases like Audrey, whom Seren Mayra herself had brought back to life, this was final death.
Of course, killing Masiu had not been easy. Several dead “ravens” were scattered around, and the traces alone were enough to show how dense the fighting had been. However, compared to the losses Luthien had suffered this time, it was a trivial price. Masiu had not been a simple fighter. He had been one of the key pillars among the archbishops. In the Pope’s absence, he was the one coordinating the actions of all the cults and rituals across the continent.
Thud—
Rev gripped her hammer tightly and, kicking one of the large corpses lying nearby, muttered:
“Fine, so what now... Looks like those bastards have already run off.”
Whatever the case, the sabotage was slowly approaching its climax. Luthien’s special squads had intentionally provoked armed clashes at various points along the quarantine line, and the capital’s upper ranks had mistakenly taken it as the work of “zombies.” Giving in to fear, they had ordered the complete purge of Sector 7. But some of the knights had opposed it, and the chain of command had cracked.
“Everything went exactly the way Masiu predicted.”
Thanks to that, some of the quarantine posts had fallen, and the number of “infected” in the city center had surged. If the “trigger” were activated, the capital would drop straight into hell. Yet Rev’s face showed no joy.
“So what?! We’re still taking losses!”
The last report from Sword Hill had said that the Holy Sword had vanished. Immediately after that, “Raymond” and the bishop of the Cult of Healing assigned to watch over him had died. Contact with Audrey had been cut off after she was surrounded by the Round Table Knights, and more than half the special squad fighters had been killed.
Successful sabotage? Fine. But because the priests who were supposed to present that fruit to the god were dying one after another... the efficiency of the offering had dropped to zero. Compared to the effort spent, the result was garbage.
“And most importantly, the Holy Sword that was supposed to heal Dominic is gone too...”
...To repeat: Rev hated thinking.
This was all Masiu’s fault! She switched from kicking an ordinary corpse to kicking what was left of Masiu. After several angry blows, she finally reached the only conclusion she could:
“If efficiency dropped... then I just need to increase the amount of offerings.”
Rev did not think any further—
Click—
She activated the “trigger.” Originally, only Masiu and the bishop of Healing had the right to do that, but she no longer cared.
Uuuuuuu—
She felt the chaos in the city deepen even more. Let the effect be weaker because of the early activation—it did not matter. She would fill that gap herself. The unfinished “zombies” were only needed to buy time.
“Hmm-hmm, la-la.”
Excellent. The moment a “plan” formed in her head, her mood noticeably improved.
Grrr—
A long scraping of metal against stone rang out. Rev slowly began walking toward the very center of the chaos, dragging her heavy hammer behind her.
...She already knew where she was headed.
***
Tap-tap—
Gunther repeated to himself:
“The important thing is to remember: the time limit is tomorrow, six in the evening.”
That was the exact time of his first death in the capital, when the hammer of the Embodiment had crushed his head. He did not know much about save points, but one thing was clear: “Autosave” would not trigger before that moment.
But what would happen after that was unknown. So he had to die before the deadline. No matter what.
Tap-tap—
That was exactly why his destination had become the Public Security Bureau.
The Bureau was the organ where all information flowed in a state of emergency. Reports on quarantines, blockades, violent suppression, and field updates gathered there; information from the guard, the knights, and the medics arrived there as well. All orders and the routes by which they had been transmitted remained in the internal records, and suspicious individuals were detained and interrogated there as well.
“The key to understanding why the capital fell, and whether this chaos was intentional, has to be in the Bureau in the end.”
Of course, he wanted to rush to his comrades immediately. But they were outside the quarantine line. Most likely, they did not have precise information about what was happening inside the capital. Right now, all he could do was pray for their safety and speed up the gathering of information.
“I have to find out who gave those ridiculous orders, and why, like the sudden blockade of Sector 7.”
Otherwise, the same ending awaited him in the next life.
On top of that, he had “his own man” in the Bureau. Edad. He looked like a true veteran of the service. And if he was a veteran, then he surely already possessed a wealth of useful information.
“I need to hurry.”
He had learned the way to the Bureau from a passerby. The man had been sobbing over his wounded lover, but the moment Gunther handed him medicine, he became extremely talkative: he not only explained the way to the Bureau, but spilled everything that had happened in the city center over the past hour.
“The quarantine was breached, and rioters poured in?”
After hearing that, many puzzle pieces snapped into place in Gunther’s head. The criminals and the sick from Sector 7 could never have broken through the ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) cordon by their own strength.
“The work of Luthien’s special squads.”
Organized force, precise timing, and guidance. They had surely designed everything to amplify fear, provoke rage, and make the conflicts erupt on their own. Only one cult was masterful at intrigues like that.
“So the Cult of Repose is here too...”
In the end, his suspicions were confirmed. A joint operation by Justice, Repose, and Healing.
Realizing the scale of the crisis crashing down on Valloren, Gunther finally stopped before the Bureau building.
A massive structure of gray stone.
Under normal circumstances, this place would have radiated silent order, but now a sinister aura hung over it. The building had excellent soundproofing, so making out details was difficult, but Gunther could feel, with his skin, a strange unrest coming from inside. And most of all—
“There’s no guard.”
For there to be no guards at the Bureau building... it was simply unthinkable.
“Something has gone completely wrong.”
Had Luthien’s tentacles reached the Bureau too? But this was no time to retreat, no matter what had happened inside. Without hesitation, Gunther stepped toward the main doors...
“Ha, I knew you’d come here.”
The voice came from the shadow by the wall. A silhouette leaning heavily against the stone slowly continued:
“You’re... just as smart as I am, junior.”
Gunther slowly turned his head. Even before that, the sharp smell of blood had struck his nose. Cheonmae, meeting his gaze, blinked with difficulty.
“It’s absolute hell inside. Let’s go together.”
...Gunther was fully convinced now that the end of this life was rapidly approaching.
