Trela had lost all hope, her mind clouded with despair, but she could hear the Holy Chaplain Knight speaking courageously behind her. With one hand holding her back from jumping into The Burning alongside Dante, and his left hand clutching the glowing Scriptures, Sir Lysander's unwavering faith shone through.
"Divine System, in our hour of despair, Intervene and resurrect with your loving care. Through your divine touch, let life be restored, Bring back this fallen, in your name adored!"
As the Holy Chaplain Knight channeled the Sacred Devotion through the Scriptures, a soft and radiant aura enveloped the pages. The reverent, flowing script seemed to come alive, emanating a sense of unwavering faith and divine favor. The golden shimmer emitted by the text grew brighter, infusing the holy magic with increased power.
[Divine Intervention Granted]
Divine Intervention was a Greater Censer-Tier Invocation, a sacred ritual that called upon the Holy System to intervene and resurrect a fallen ally even in the direst of circumstances. Sir Lysander poured his own life energy into the invocation, keeping Dante alive amidst the torment of The Burning. The excruciating pain and anguish that would have turned the young boy to ashes were instead transferred to the Holy Chaplain Knight himself.
This was the essence of the Holy Chaplain Knights. On the battlefield, they willingly absorbed the pain and suffering of their allies, using their sacred abilities to save lives. To them, salvation often meant the act of resurrection.
"Divine System, in our hour of despair, Intervene—" Sir Lysander continued to pray fervently, knowing that any wavering in his faith might cause the invocation to fail, and Dante would be lost to true death.
Trela, filled with both fear and determination, picked up the rusty sword from the skeleton, ran toward the cave, desperately seeking anything that could aid the Holy Chaplain Knight in maintaining the high-tier invocation. The Burning was known to last for hours, and she understood the immense strain it placed on Sir Lysander.
"Hold on, Danny! We're going to save you. I promise!" she cried out, her voice filled with determination and grief.
Dante, in the depths of The Burning, was surprised by the absence of pain. Despite the furious flames consuming him, the Divine Intervention interfered, keeping him alive. His eyes burned to a crisp, and yet, amidst the searing heat, his thoughts remained surprisingly clear. From within the inferno, he sensed the life energies of both Trela and Sir Lysander moving about inside the cave.
"Darn it! You guys shouldn't bother with me," Dante thought to himself, his mind racing. "This is for the better. I tried my best. Marvia, Conrad, Trela, Silmara, Garik... I really did. Believe me. But I know what happens to those who are possessed by demons."
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A sense of remorse washed over Dante as he continued to reflect on his actions. "I don't want to be remembered as some evil demon trying to wreak havoc and chaos. When I saw that message on my screen about a detected demonic being, I knew it was about me from the start."
Regret filled his thoughts as he continued, "I must have overlooked it, but there were actually two demons inside Sir Alaver Amarasil. Damn these demons! Why do they have to be so evil?"
Dante's self-reflection turned inward, acknowledging his own selfishness and the consequences it had brought upon Trela. "I was selfish, Trel. And I lied. I wasn't doing this for us. I was trying to escape. And I dragged you along this dangerous journey because of my selfishness."
In the midst of his self-condemnation, Dante couldn't help but acknowledge the significance of Trela in his life. "You are one of the best things that have ever happened to me in this second chance at life. But people like me are doomed from the start. Even in my previous life, I never had a fighting chance."
Overwhelmed by his own perceived failures, Dante's thoughts turned toward the sacrifices made by others. "Damn it... I wish I wasn't so irredeemable. I'm sorry to those three women who were Substitute Sacrifices at the ritual of my birth. There was truly no chance for me to complete all those trials they had waiting for me."
Feelings of self-loathing weighed heavy on Dante's heart. "I'm just so despicable. I know—"
Suddenly, Dante began to feel his whole body again. A surge of life flowed through him, rejuvenating his senses and repairing his charred eyes. Confusion mixed with astonishment washed over him as he experienced a profound restoration of his being.
"What...?" he muttered in disbelief.
A wave of magical energy surged within him, dissolving the darkness and senselessness that had plagued his soul. Dante opened his eyes and found himself staring into the vibrant blue hair and matching eyes of a girl holding him gently in her lap.
"Am I in heaven?" Dante asked, bewildered.
The girl with blue hair carefully placed Dante's head on her backpack, and Trela, tears streaming down her face, rushed to his side, enveloping him in a tight embrace. "Danny, you're okay now," she whispered, her voice filled with both relief and reprimand. "Never do that again. We'll find a way. We'll always find a way, you and me. Remember?"
Trela's embrace grew even tighter, her exhaustion finally catching up with her as she drifted into a peaceful sleep beside Dante.
"So, I'm still alive, huh?" Dante murmured, his voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude. "Even in that, I'm still a failure," he added with a wistful chuckle.
Trela playfully knocked him on the forehead, a hint of a smile appearing through her tears. "dumb dumb," she whispered affectionately, embracing him once more.
Dante, feeling a mix of emotions, placed his right arm over his eyes, shielding the flowing tears. "I don't deserve any of this..." he thought, his voice filled with gratitude. "But I'm grateful. I'm really grateful."
On the other side of the cave, Sir Lysander, who had maintained the invocation for a grueling ten hours, lay in a state of exhaustion, observing the two children as they rested from the brink of tragedy.
The blue-haired girl tended to the Holy Chaplain Knight, her voice filled with sympathy. "You poor Chaplains... Always sacrificing yourselves for others, never thinking about yourselves."