“Come out vile sinners! Come and receive your just punishments! Come, prostrate, and be cleansed of your vile heretical existences! Bow and beg for forgiveness, then die to appease our Lord!”
Whoever is screaming outside spouting all that bullshit better have his ass ready because his nonsense is absolutely driving me insane! Once I catch that bastard, I’m going to jackhammer a fucking pineapple, cactus, or whatever large spiky thing I can find up his godforsaken shithole!
These were my first thoughts as I was heading out to fight. I wasn’t even out the building yet when I could already hear his damnable chanting around a 100 meters away. As soon as I stepped out, I can see that their entire group holding torches and blades stopped just several tens of meters away from us, as the one leading them –and the one I assume I’ll be spike fisting– stepped forward to face us.
“Wretched sinners! How good of you to come and offer yourselves! Have you somehow seen the folly of facing the full might of our holy order? Now… stop wasting time and come bow before us and beg for forgiveness as we end your pitiful li – *BONK*”
Any more and I swear my ears would bleed. I’m surprised I bothered to let him droll on as he did up to that point before I maced his face. And I’ll be sure to be shoving that same mace later up his stinkhole. Also, it looks like his friends are finally realizing that I’m in no mood for discussion, but it still took them a few seconds to get organized after I threw a mace at their leader.
Only around half of them managed to charge forward with swords raised and screaming for blood, but I was just as furious as they were when I jumped in the air and smash stomped a leg forward creating a shockwave using a combination of gravity and earth magic to knock them into the air.
In the blink of an eye, I grabbed one of them in the air by the leg with my tail then spun in a rotation using him like a wrecking ball to slam him into his friends, knocking as many of them out of the air like flies.
“GRRRAAOOOOOOOOONN!”
With a roar, I leapt into the middle of the frenzy gradually losing myself into a battle haze. My thoughts fading, I only remember seeing the ones before me not as men… but as little lambs ready to be slaughtered.
***
In the same way as Camus, Sorena was also irritated by the words of the Templar leader, but she honestly didn’t expect Camus’ ruthless actions in the next few seconds. Although surprised, she immediately brought her attention to the battlefield.
“Hm… Azula, a few of them got past and are heading towards us. Have you and your girls take care of them. Arwen, some might circle around the woods. Keep watch and have the other be on alert.”
“Yes, M’lady!””At once, Mistress…”
Azula and two other women of similar features to her and wielding spears separated from them as they intercepted the incoming Templars. Arwen, hid in the woods as she closed her eyes and concentrated on her surroundings. If Camus still had his wits about him, he’d have wondered if these women were prostitutes at all.
Soon, even a familiar perky little cat girl and shy panda girl made their appearance as they approached Madame Sorena.
“Master, Master! Cheshi would also like to help! Emi can watch over Cheshi while Cheshi catches all the bad men!”
Normally, any of the women would have been hesitant in approaching their Mistress in such a manner, but Cheshi is a special case in which, she was Sorena’s only pupil in the mystic arts that she practiced. Not only her pupil, but she also raised her personally like her own daughter.
“Hmm… alright, but only if you promise not to damage the Pavilion and kill anyone. The last time I allowed you to use our magic, we had to close the Pavilion for a week.”
“Hey! Cheshi has been practicing, so Master doesn’t have to worry! Cheshi wants to be useful too!”
Although Cheshi pouted in frustration at Sorena’s words, she soon skipped happily into the fray now that she was allowed to have some ‘fun’. Following her, was the seemingly out of place Emi, who despite being taller and apparently older than Cheshi, looked like a delicate and fragile girl as she anxiously looked around her to avoid getting into trouble.
At the edge of the fighting, Cheshi stopped and brought out two red fans then turned towards Emi.
“Alright, this place is good, so don’t let anyone bother me while I cast my spells.”
“Eeeeeh!? Che-Cheshi... u-um… i-isn’t this too close to the fighting?”
“Nah, it’s fine. Besides, we have to be close enough to catch as many as we can. Anyways, Cheshi trusts Emi, so good luck!”
“O-Oh I s-see… Eeeeeeeeeh!?”
But before Emi could complain, Cheshi began an enchanting dance with her two fans. As she spun and weaved in place, visible strands of energy flowed around her and began to coalesce into the forms of feline beasts. Some whole, some only partly, the energy turned into phantoms resembling all kinds of felines that roared and entered into the battlefield.
Having no physical forms and no evil presence, the Templars were unable to deal with them even with their holy arsenal. One by one, they were brought into submission as the feline phantoms pounced and transformed into bindings as soon as they were upon them. Some noticed the source that was Cheshi and began to move against her.
Emi began to panic yet stood in their way as she cried out, “P-Please go away… w-we won’t hurt you as long as you stop…”
“Damned heretic!””Die for your sins!””How dare you attack our brothers!”
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
“Eeeeek!”
As Emi screamed, the three Templars were sure that their blades would easily tear her apart as they brought their swords upon her. What greeted them instead was the vast earth beneath them as their faces crashed into it in full.
It happened in an instant. None of them saw the movements the girl before them made as she easily parried their weapons with her bare limbs and returned the force of their charge against them. Had their heads been clear, they might have noticed that the girl before them was a rare beastkin of the Pandran race.
Pandrans were easily distinguishable due to their black and white fur markings on their body, but what their race was most well known for was their strange techniques and martial arts. Despite being rare, there was but one common knowledge about the Pandrans that almost everyone in the southern continent knows about… and it is that each and every single one their kind is an unparalleled fighter, armed or otherwise.
Emi, while appearing fearful, shy, and frail, was in truth one of the All-Treasure Pavilion’s strongest and most dangerous combatants that even Azula avoided facing her after having a terrible experience. It was to the point that the Templars couldn’t be faulted if they were to say ‘Why the hell are you so strong while looking so weak!? This is cheating!’
In fact, this was the reason why Madame Sorena chose her to be Cheshi’s bodyguard. If there were any unsavory types that would try to assault them, they would almost always instinctively attack Emi first for being a shy and fragile looking girl. What they would be rewarded instead was the biggest mistake of their life choices.
“Good job, Emi! Cheshi always trusts you! Now hold on for a little longer while Cheshi cleans up the rest!”
“Buuh… *sniff* I’m so sorry…”
The odd duo continued their cycle as Emi thrashed any would-be attackers, while Cheshi caught and bound them. Azula was also doing a fine job protecting the entrance along with her warriors; Arwen had made sure none of the sides were left unwatched and unguarded; and Camus was raising hell and thrashing every one of the Templars while miraculously not killing any one of them.
With everything leaning to their favor, the battle seemed like it would end soon, but… their enemy’s strange fervor had not lessened… and the small group surrounding their leader… stirred.
***
“Grrr… those vile heathens… to think they’d use an underhanded tactic…”
Cyril’s original four men were currently nursing him as they cursed their enemies. From their masks, tears flowed, as they truly felt wronged and sad for the injury of their leader. They believed that because the enemy knew of Cecil’s reputation, they fostered a plan to take him out first.
However, they also knew that it was only a matter of time before he awakens. The fact that their faith and morale had not yet been broken despite the one-sided battle was proof of Cecil’s Holy Fervor influencing them still. While many of their brothers have been bound, many more still continue to fight despite broken limbs and battered bodies. As Templars, holy warriors of the church, they knew healing spells as well as strengthening magics so it would only be a matter of time before they overcome their enemies.
And now they believe it was time…
“Brother Cyril!”
Bloody tears flowed from Cyril’s mask, a sign that was he was truly saddened at his brothers’ pain… and that his rage filled him until it spilled with his blood.
“My brothers… I’m truly sorry… for having failed you…” cried Cyril as he clenched his fists until they bled as well.
“No brother! You haven’t failed us; we failed you! We should have known better… that the heathens would devise a tactic take you out first… but it matters no more! You are with us once again!”
Joy can be felt from the four men that surrounded him. Their feelings touched him and further fueled his anger at those who had caused them such pain. With his strength returning, he stood.
“First… we must rid ourselves of the flies…”
As soon as he uttered those words, he charged like lightning towards one of the warrior women. His speed took her by surprise yet commendably she still reacted to the attack, but Cyril was beyond her as his knee broke though her spear and slammed into her abdomen.
“Gah!”
Air escaped the woman’s lungs as he kneed her gut, but he wasn’t done as he grabbed then twisted her arms, and then with a kick broke both of her legs. The woman’s scream brought a dead calm to the battlefield as everyone turned towards him.
“Let this be a reminder… that all of you are nothing but filth beneath our boots.”
Lifting his leg, he was about to crush the woman’s chest, but Azula’s spear was faster forcing him to move back instead of continuing with his action.
“If you think it’s that easy to step on us, then think again you bastard!”
Azula was filled with rage after seeing the brutal treatment of one of her battle sisters. Knowing the strength of the enemy before her was different than the others; she personally took him head on.
“Iretu, take Ayma and fall back! This one’s mine!”
“At once, sister!”
As her sister was taken away to safety, she focused all of her attention towards the Templar before her.
“Foolish girl… you only delay the inevitable… and worsen her sins by prolonging her life… I can see you’re formidable, but… it means nothing to me.”
With one arm in his back, he gestured towards Azula to come at him. Seeing his enemy’s cockiness, Azula couldn’t contain her anger as she charged like a windstorm.
Not losing his posture, Cyril weaved through her attacks and smoothly avoided them. Azula’s speed suddenly increased further and became sharper, which finally forced him to move precisely and with more caution. Separating after the exchange, he saw his robes filled with scratches and even his arm slightly cut.
Seeing the warrior woman’s confidence after their exchange, he became irritated at the thought that she believes in her superiority.
“Looks like you think yourself better, so it seems I must show you how wrong you are.”
Cyril’s body started to glow an eerie red as the black sockets of his mask shined crimson. More blood seemed to flow from the eyeholes and even from his wounds. Cyril of the Red Robes, The Crimson Crier, Blood Templar… many were his names as his presence struck fear into the populace. Though named, no one really knew his true powers outside of the Lionhawk Order, but the people only know of one thing… is that when Cyril cries blood… then the blood of those around him would be spilled.
Blood continued to dye his robes in red as Azula tensed and raised her guard even though she wasn’t sure what to expect. As soon as blood colored the entirety of his cloak, he moved.
She barely saw the movement of his clawing attack with his hand and managed to block his attack, but strangely a red image followed the same pathway as his hand. She managed to block the hand, but not the red image… and it soon tore into her flesh.
“Gaaah!”
Three fresh slash wounds appeared on her torso as she instinctually jumped back to lessen the deepness of the damage. Looking hatefully at her enemy, she was surprised the thing didn’t bother to follow up with the attack.
“Now you see your folly… there’s no saving you lot, so simply embrace your fate. Be burned slowly and die in agony for worsening your sins. That is the only way you all can atone. Brothers! It is time!”
With his cry, a red wave of energy burst forth and struck in a radius. Surprisingly, it harmed no one, but what happened next was just as bad. All the Templars that had been bound had their binds broken, and even Cheshi’s magic was shattered before her, stopping her dance as pain wracked her body due to the forced cancellation.
“Urgh… Moving Cheshi’s body is painful… what was that?”
Seeing this, Sorena was visibly shocked. She was familiar with the energy that was released and what it was made fear rise from within her.
“That was… Divinity… divine energy… but… how? …unless…”
Sorena’s words were cut short as she realized many of the Templars started rising once again, only this time they were surrounded in the same eerie red aura with all their masks glowing crimson in the eyes.
Emi carried Cheshi and brought her out of the battlefield, but Azula was still in front of the red Templar, facing him alone and blocking their path towards the Pavilion. Facing the monster before them, in their minds, they thought… where was Camus?
“Now then… time to die, sinner.”
With his words, all the Templars rushed towards Azula bearing the blades and screaming like madmen. Coming from a nation of warriors, Azula stood her ground and bravely faced them head on believing it was her time to finally find peace… until the madness and their cries were suddenly broken by a loud roar.
“GRRRRRAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOON!!”
Their madness and battle cries were brought to nothing as it drowned in the presence of a true predator’s roar. The power that engulfed the Templars vanished, the red aura dissipating along with their morale and spirit, which for the first time… had finally left them.
Fear replaced their madness as they turned to the source of what quailed their hearts. There, it stood… on a mountain piled high of their brothers’ broken and battered bodies. With the sight before them, they have soon realized how few of them were truly left.
The source of their fear slowly came down from the mound of their brothers’ bodies as it gradually stood before the one being that didn’t quake in fear of its presence.
Both stared at each other in silence, not in contempt or respect, but in rage as the presence of the other made them both seethe in anger.
For a time, they both stood unmoving… silence soon filled the night… but just as the quiet was about to settle into calm, they both struck out; the others seeing only a flash of blood, scale, and fang.