The Crusader lost count how many times the Spartan killed the demon. No matter how many times that the woman tried to escape or fight back, nothing worked. All she could do at that point was die over and over again with no end in sight. Each slash ripped out a part of her head, her body, anything that could be done to kill her in that instance. She would regenerate and come back, but none of that meant anything at all. No, all she could do was die over and over again.
None of the divinity that she had stolen throughout her time was able to assist her. Each and every single one of them failed to do anything for defense, resulting in her being stuck in an endless loop. Get up, die, regenerate, get up again.
The Crusader kept on watching as the endless cycle of murder continued onwards for some time. There was a tinge of pity for the woman as she continued to break down more and more as sh realized the fruitless endeavor of escaping, but then he remembered what she had done to him. Then all of that sorrow transformed into satisfaction at watching the bastard get her righteous justice.
Though, he had to admit, this was all rather terrifying to witness. Never before had he expected his ally to go forth with such a hostile and sadistic nature. If anything, he knew that the man had been capable of finding the weak point of those soldiers way earlier than before. Something to do with the holy blessing that had been gifted upon the warrior from God.
If that was the case, then why was he not utilizing it to kill the woman and put an end to this battle? Perhaps this was all a means to get justice for all the people that she had murdered throughout her rampage, for all the lives lost from being jumped in the darkness of the fog. Though, he couldn’t even believe that would be the case. All of these strikes were far too focused, too thought out to be anything similar to justice. No, if he was a gambling man, which he was not as such an act was punishable by God, all of this seemed far too cold.
Was this truly justice? Or was this all being done as a means to test the Spartan’s new limits after absorbing the titan’s soul? Whatever the case, he had to admit one thing: he felt terror staring down everything. But more importantly, he felt a little light-headed at the moment.
His vision was blurring here and there, his strength was starting to fail him, and he was feeling cold. Whatever the case, he certainly wasn’t going to last for long considering his state.
He could feel the cold hand of death approaching him. Something had to change, whether that be making the Spartan land the final blow or for the woman to give up once and for all. There were no other way that things could go, this was the path that had to go.
He opened his mouth to speak up, but he didn’t need to do so at all. At that moment, the woman raised her hands once more. Giant tears were pouring down her face as she breathed deeply in a constant rhythm. Her face was one of absolute defeat and hysterics, staggering and struggling to speak. Her mouth opened and closed for a brief while, before gulping and sobbing.
“I–I give up! No more! Please!”
“Do you truly give up?” The Spartan asked as he got his sword ready, “Are you ready for your final death?”
“I–I–” She sobbed as she started to dig into her body for a brief moment, before finally ripping what seemed to be a red pearl out of her foot. The Crusader had to blink as he stared at her, ripping out the item straight out of her body. Of all the places to store the source of her immortality, she placed it in a location that was that vulnerable?
“So your weakness was truly an Achilles’s heel?” His ally asked, genuinely amused. He let out a small chuckle at that, before rearing back his sword. “I’m glad you decided to do the right thing for once in your life.”
“F-fuck you.” The woman spat, clearly out of spite and defiance, “I– I curse y–”
Whatever she was going to say was cut short as the greatsword was swung. The red ball was cut in two, before evaporating into a cloud of particles. Despite the fact that her only defense was broken, she still sat there, alive and breathing.
Well, not for long. The Spartan swung several more times, and all of his attacks landed. First, her left arm, then her legs, and finally her head. Her body all collapsed into multiple directions, before settling down into a small pile of blood and gore. Then, she began to fade into dust and bone, before leaving behind a giant sphere of black.
That was definitely the culmination of all the divinity that she had stolen throughout her time as a vulture. At that, they both understood: the fog that had overwhelmed the town would finally be gone once and for all. They had brought some peace to the world, albeit very little.
However, the Crusader understood at that moment: he was most likely not going to survive to see the sight of this land being cleansed of the evil that lurked within. He could feel his soul already leaving his body, his being as a whole cold and weary. This was it, this was the end.
There was no way around it. Nothing he could do would be able to stave off this defeat, this final loss. However, he wasn’t too beaten up over this.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
He had done his mission to the best of his ability, after all. He had done a lot to save people, to defeat the demons that infested the lands, and follow the word of God as closely as he could. If this is where he was meant to fall, then so be it. It was all up to God’s mercy to determine how things would go now.
His eyes were beginning to close now. He found himself relaxing bit by bit as his consciousness began to fade. He–
“Hey, get up! The divinity– you must secure it!” The loud shouting of the Spartan broke through to him, shattering the relaxing moment and thrusting him back to the world of pain, “It’s there for the taking! If you indulge yourself, then you will heal! You do not need to die here, understand?! Get up!”
His mouth opened to respond, but he couldn’t find the energy to do so. He was too weak, too frail now. This was the end now. Even if he had the strength, he doubted he could get to the divine pearl before succumbing to his demise.
Even then, he did not wish to do so. He had spent all of his life following God’s word, and he’d be damned if he broke his promise now. He was a Crusader, chosen by the Heavenly Father to do his will upon Earth, and betraying all of those promises to try to live for another day was something he refused to do so. No, he will accept death over doing anything to offend his God.
He closed his eyes once more, ready for the sweet embrace of death to come. However, he was not to be so fortunate. He could hear the murmuring of the Spartan, before a deep sigh. Then, he spoke.
“Hate me all you want for what I’m about to do. However, understand this: you cannot die yet. You still need to help me get back to Sparta, fool.”
At those words, the world changed. He found himself laying on the ground to floating in the air for a brief moment. That was, until his body remembered that he had to fall, and he started to drop.
Right towards the divinity of the defeated woman.
His eyes widened. He couldn’t move out of the way, the drop was too short to maneuver around. From what he recalled, touching this thing would begin the absorption of the soul, something devilish and horrendous.
And here he was, about to take in the soul of the vile criminal that had held a vicious grasp on the town for some time.
He opened his mouth to spit at the Spartan. To speak curses for dealing him such an awful moment, for making him go back against his word to God. However, he didn’t have the strength or the time to do so.
He collided with the black pearl and with that, everything turned white.
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Something the Crusader had to say was that the world had changed. Rather than being in the same room as before, for some reason, he found himself staring at a shattered mirror. Each of those shards seemed to reflect a different event transpiring, ranging from a woman slitting a man’s throat to a boy raising a wooden sword to the sky in glee.
Were these memories? The vestiges of the people that held the divinity, all of which had been absorbed by the vile demon in the prison? If so, he couldn’t help but feel sick to the stomach staring at all this.
He had broken his promise. He had become one that was similar to the demons that all patrolled around these lands. A vile soul eater, one that feasted upon the spirit of God for his own personal gain.
“Nonsense, my child. You did not choose this path, you were forced into it.”
The Crusader turned rapidly towards the voice of God. His eyes widened as he stared at the Heavenly Father, who had changed far more from their previous encounter.
Before, he had been nothing more than an old man that was nothing more than skin and bones with messy hair and a long beard. Now, he seemed even worse than before, with his head nothing more than a skull. His skinny body had turned pure black, taking on the similar texture as charcoal.
“M–My God? What has happened to you?”
“Ah?” The broken man seemed confused, before lightening up with realization. “Ah. This is the result of the Usurper’s actions. From the battle to me giving up a lot of my power to ensure that you would be able to lead the charge.”
“B-but, they said that… You were dead.”
“Dead?” God chuckled at the Crusader’s confusion, shaking his head. “No, my son. I have not died. Rather, I have taken the last bit of my strength and levied it upon you. You have been chosen, for you shall help to bring change to the world once and for all.”
Those words made him rather pleased. To know that all of his actions were being watched down by God, and for his every choice to be backed up by the heavens? Truly, he was blessed, far more than any priest in the highest of temples. After all, he was able to have a direct connection to God, something that no one could brag about.
And yet. Something about this felt… wrong. Perhaps… This was to do with the fact he had feasted on the forbidden fruit?
“My Father, forgive me, for I have sinned.”
“Sinned?” God laughed at that, “No, you have not done such a thing. If anything, I have to thank you.”
“Wh–thank me?”
“Yes.” God nodded, “You have returned a fragment of my divinity back to me. Something that will allow me to return to my former glory. You do not need to worry about the dangers of the souls.”
“B–but…”
“Do not fret, for you are not committing the taboo.” A hand was placed on his shoulder, one that was calming and soothing, “What you are doing is saving the world. You are not eating souls, you are returning to me what is rightfully mine. If anything, you are only doing the most holy of acts: delivering retribution upon the sinners.”
“Is everything clear to you now, my son?”