Gazing at the walls of the City of Light and Shadow not far away, Irelia’s eyes, which had been dim for a long time, finally flickered with a faint light.
With every step, the wound on her neck carved by a sword’s edge, the agonizing pain of her broken ribs, and the countless large and small wounds left by glass shards and wood splinters all over her body were stimulating her already fragile nerves.
Driven entirely by a stubborn willpower and the sense of crisis brought by the chattering Source of Calamity in her mind, Irelia dragged her nearly shattered body to the edge of the forest surrounding the City of Light and Shadow.
[Dragging such a delicate… and heavily injured girl’s body… running for so long… it’s simply asking too much…]
Amidst her blurred consciousness, she vaguely identified the outline of a building ahead and used the last of her strength to move her body toward it.
Climbing over a broken fence and prying open the warehouse’s wooden door, which was nearly falling apart, a smell of mold and dust rushed toward her.
Behind a pile of discarded wine barrels and sacks in the corner, she found several empty large wooden crates. Regardless of her wounds, she collapsed into them all at once, letting out a dull thud.
[It’s all that… damn redhead’s fault… sooner or later I’ll… cut him back… for those two sword strikes…]
“How pathetic. Just sleep like this, Vessel. Sleep until I recover my strength, and then… everything will end.”
This was the last thing she heard—a cold, heartless version of a goodnight from the Source of Calamity—before she lost consciousness and fell into a coma.
***
Meanwhile, on the other side, inside the Holy Blade headquarters.
Loranst stood in the center of the hall, suppressed rage crashing through his chest. The sky outside the window was already bright, but in his eyes, it seemed as if it were still shrouded in the ominous dark red of last night.
[I can’t wait any longer. The information Vera brought back to the Church will take time, and its recovery speed might far exceed my imagination…]
Every second of delay was a fatal danger. He had to take the initiative, using every available resource to nip the threat in the bud.
According to the memory fragments of his past life, that existence—skilled in disguise and expert at garnering sympathy—was likely already hiding in some dark corner of the City of Light and Shadow, relying on that miserable and pitiful appearance.
No, it might have even begun weaving new lies, seeking asylum as an “exiled victim” to accumulate strength. Just as it had once deceived everyone in the Holy Blade, it would deceive new innocents.
The mere thought of the Source of Calamity winning over new trust with that delicate and fragile look again made him feel nauseous.
“To think I actually used to… Tsk, thinking back now, I was hopelessly stupid to be deceived by its disguise for so long!”
He delayed no further, quickly returning to his room to change into an outfit suitable for action yet still dignified.
At this moment, he needed to act as the Captain of the Holy Blade, rather than as Loranst the individual burdened with heavy secrets. But he had to be fast.
He took out a note, dipped a quill in ink, and quickly wrote several sharp lines of handwriting, pressing it onto the table Vera frequently used.
[Vice-Captain Vera, you are in full charge of the base for the time being. Continue to maintain the highest level of alertness. I am going to the Church to verify the matter of last night’s anomaly and have decided to personally investigate the scene. If there is any news, I will send word back immediately. Be absolutely careful with everything. —Loranst]
He could not reveal his true purpose to avoid unnecessary complications. Leaving these instructions was meant to appease Vera, who might return early, and to leave a seemingly reasonable explanation for his actions.
[Vera has always trusted me deeply and is my best team member. She should… follow my instructions diligently.]
***
A short while later, at the Sacred Church branch in the City of Light and Shadow—
Inside the solemn and dignified hall, the scent of incense and parchment permeated everywhere. Stained-glass windows cast magnificent colors into the room, yet they could not pierce the low pressure currently filling the hall.
Loranst wasted no time on ceremonial waiting. He directly requested to see the Bishop in charge of the City of Light and Shadow, citing his identity as the Captain of the Holy Blade and the earth-shattering anomaly from last night.
The Bishop was a kind-faced old man with sharp eyes.
Loranst offered no pleasantries or small talk. After all, the Holy Blade already held significant prestige in the hearts of the people in the City of Light and Shadow and had left a deeply positive impression on the Church. The Bishop soon received him, entering a room for a detailed discussion.
Then, Loranst got straight to the point, placing a carefully worded report on the oak table in front of the Bishop.
“Bishop, the situation is urgent. Please forgive me for not beating around the bush and forgoing as many formalities as possible.” Loranst’s voice was low and urgent, causing the old man to frown slightly.
“I have personally identified the root of last night’s anomaly in the northern forest. It is related to a wanderer my squad took in a month ago. This person possesses Dragonkin blood, hidden very deeply.”
He paused, observing the Bishop’s expression, and continued in a pained yet certain tone.
“But her bloodline has been contaminated by a highly corrosive force. The eruption of power last night is proof of that. That ominousness and pure desire for destruction is, without a doubt… the Power of Calamity.”
He deliberately linked the “contaminated Dragonkin” with the “Power of Calamity,” precisely touching the Church’s most sensitive nerve and making the Bishop’s frown deepen.
The Power of Calamity was an extremely difficult and troublesome topic anywhere on the continent. For those eroded and infected by it, there were only two final outcomes.
Either they would be purified and barely sustain their lives for a few years through the Church’s power before dying in madness, or… they would become Fallen God Creations, walking the world as the incarnation of pure evil that destroys everything.
[Should it end here? If I define her as a contaminated individual, the Church might try to purify her instead of killing her… That way, perhaps there’s still a glimmer of hope…]
Just as this thought arose, blood-drenched images from his past life flashed before his eyes like a warning.
Standing atop a sea of corpses and mountains of blood was a dragon-person with a girl’s silhouette. The exposed parts of that body’s skin were covered in pitch-black scales that flowed with an ominous dark red blood-light.
A pair of tattered, massive dragon wings—looking as if they had been violently torn—extended wildly behind her back. From her black hair, a pair of twisted, dark red dragon horns grew, resembling both a crown and an instrument of torture, emitting a luster of desecration and misfortune.
One could still vaguely find the soft contours of Irelia’s features on its face. But those once clear and pure red eyes had turned into cold vertical pupils carrying a hint of divinity, looking down upon all living things.
With a casual point of a scale-covered slender finger, any living being pointed at—be it a crying child, a resisting soldier or knight, or a fleeing animal or monster—did not die immediately.
Their bodies were overtaken by a massive amount of Calamity Power, twisting and swelling as their flesh and bones grew and mutated in violation of all natural laws.
In just a few breaths, they were forcibly reshaped into Fallen God Creations that emitted eerie roars, left with nothing but hatred for the world.
These newborn monsters then immediately turned and pounced on their former kin, comrades, and even members of their own race, further spreading the plague of death.
It was creating destruction, and even more so, sowing it.
Wherever it passed, the earth rotted, life was severed, and rules collapsed, leaving only a dark hotbed of malice that continuously writhed and spread.
Loranst, dragging his mangled body and nearly broken conviction, had charged toward that monster with a roar. But it merely turned its head slightly, meeting his gaze for a fleeting moment with eyes that held nothing but madness and a desire for destruction.
Then, within his grief-stricken vision, he saw a scene he would never forget for the rest of his life—
It smiled.
On those dragon claws stained with countless bloodstains, a gift he had once given her hung casually—an amulet forged from star-iron, now crushed into scrap metal.
“How truly pathetic, Hero. From beginning to end, you were toyed with by the emotion called love~”
It didn’t even attack him. It just waved its hand lightly, and that piece of star-iron, accompanied by a vortex of Calamity Power, spiraled crazily toward the few remaining companions behind him.
Amidst silent screams, Loranst witnessed his last team members turn into several puddles of foul flesh that gradually lost their human form in an instant.
“Don’t be in such a hurry~ Hero. Don’t you love me?” It approached, stepping over the corpses on the ground, the scent of blood carried by the dragon wings brushing past his cheek.
“Where are your vows? Where are your words about spending the rest of your life with me? Looking at it now, it seems you can’t even protect your own people? You really are quite useless~”
Saying this, it suddenly flapped its massive dragon wings, and its dragon claws, laden with dense Calamity Power, swung out violently, swatting him toward the blood-colored sky.
“Come on, save all this! You’re the Hero who’s supposed to save the world! Or do you, like that ridiculous female insect, find yourself unable to bring yourself to kill me?”
“Or did you think I actually needed your protection?”
It poked at the black-blood-stained Holy Blade banner with its toe, its smile becoming increasingly frantic and terrifying.
“I knew you were the Hero from the very beginning. Approaching you was just to see how ridiculous you, this so-called savior, could be. Your feelings for me… oh no, ‘love.’ That’s just a result of base human nature. And I, a great deity, have no need for such trash!”
“Ugh—!”
In reality, an extremely suppressed groan escaped Loranst’s throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, as if trying to forcibly push the image of that frantic smiling face and his comrades turning into foul blood out of his mind.
[Bastard…!]
His face instantly drained of color, the veins on the back of his hands bulged, and his body gave a violent shudder.
[A glimmer of hope? With… with that crazed, demonic state of hers!? It’s all nonsense!!] He let out a near-manic sneer in his heart.
[To hold even a billionth of a percent of hope for that bastard who calls itself a god is the most despicable betrayal of the dead Balus, Iris, Vera… of all the living beings it destroyed and twisted!]
[To still have hope for the Source of Calamity even now, I’m simply an idiot who can’t be woken up.]
“Bishop,” Loranst’s voice rang out, lower than before, even faintly carrying a ruthlessness and anger he hadn’t noticed himself.
“Please forgive my loss of composure just now…”
He stood up straight and bowed slightly to the Bishop. Then, he said slowly, “I request that you immediately issue a Church Hunt Order for the former Holy Blade member, Irelia.”
The Bishop looked at the Loranst before him. The moment his aura changed just now… it was a bit dangerous.
Earlier, the Vice-Captain of the Holy Blade named Vera had already come once, taking several Church priests with her, saying they were going to the forest to investigate the situation.
The Captain was appearing here now and suddenly saying things about issuing a hunt order. Was there… some gap in information?
The Bishop dared not jump to conclusions and could only try to soothe Loranst, whose state was clearly off.
“Loranst,” his voice slowed down a bit, trying to calm the restless young man, “the Church and the people remember everything you have done for the City of Light and Shadow. I also have no doubt about your loyalty and vigilance.”
He slowly rose from his seat, walked around the oak table, and stood before Loranst.
Those eyes were no longer merely scrutinizing; they carried a few hints of deep concern.
He carefully observed the hard-to-conceal fatigue on the young man’s face, the bloodshot eyes left after the intense emotional fluctuations, and the hostility seeping out from his tense body.
“But, child…” The Bishop’s tone became even more gentle, yet it carried the unquestionable authority of an elder and predecessor.
“A hunt order, especially one targeting one of your former members, and involving such extremely sensitive terms as Dragonkin and Calamity Power…”
“This is no joking matter. It requires indisputable evidence, interrogation and judgment by all the Archbishops of the Church or even the Pope, and it requires… absolute calmness and rationality.”
“If it were simple contamination by the Power of Calamity, perhaps I would have the authority to act on my own. But you mentioned Dragonkin. This… is not something a minor Bishop like me can resolve.”
He raised his hand and pressed down slightly, stopping Loranst’s impulse to argue.
“I saw your state just now. The pain and hatred in that moment could not be faked. I understand that facing the Power of Calamity, it is difficult for anyone to remain calm.”
The Bishop sighed, his aged hand gently resting on Loranst’s shoulder.
“But because of that, I cannot, at this time, based on your judgment while deeply provoked, hastily issue an order that could lead to unpredictable consequences. This is being responsible to you and me, to that child, and… to the people of the City of Light and Shadow.”
The Bishop’s gaze was like a warm candlelight, attempting to melt the heart Loranst had frozen with anger and past experiences.
“You are too tired, Loranst. The succession of accidents, last night’s anomaly, and… the pain of losing your team members are all tormenting your nerves. A warrior ruled by emotions, no matter how powerful, is prone to making wrong judgments.”
He returned to the table and took out a blank directive form. But after picking up the quill, what he wrote was not the Church Hunt Order Loranst hoped for.
“How about this,” the Bishop’s voice regained its steadiness, “I will immediately sign a top-level investigation order. I will dispatch more personnel to conduct a carpet search of the forest interior immediately, focusing on any suspicious energy residues and traces of personnel.”
“At the same time, I will personally go to the scene where the Power of Calamity erupted last night to investigate.” He handed the written directive to the waiting deacon beside him and then looked back at Loranst.
“And you, Captain of the Holy Blade. I command you in my capacity as Bishop to return to your base now and rest well. At least… give yourself time to calm down.”
“Once there is progress in the investigation, I will notify you immediately. If… if that girl is truly as you say and the situation is critical, the Church’s power is sufficient to bring her under control before she causes greater harm. At that time, it won’t be too late to handle it based on the actual situation.”
[Rest?! Are you joking?! By the time you finish your investigation, the Source of Calamity will have led its Fallen God Creations to eat the people of the City of Light and Shadow for lunch!] This thought made him almost want to roar in a loss of control.
But in the end, facing the Bishop’s gaze, he still adopted a calm posture and nodded slightly.
“…Yes, Bishop.” His voice was very hoarse, his tone carrying a calmness after extreme suppression, avoiding the gaze the Bishop was prepared to meet.
“I understand. I will… return to the base and wait for your news.”
Before walking out the door, Loranst turned back and asked abruptly, “Bishop. If she is caught, could you… let me personally interrogate her?”
The air seemed to freeze for a moment.
The deacon holding the newly issued investigation order bowed his head and held his breath. The magnificent light and shadow cast by the stained-glass windows flickered across Loranst’s seemingly calm face.
“Captain Loranst,” the Bishop’s voice was slow and heavy, “I understand your feelings. You want to ask for the truth yourself, you want to confirm… certain things.”
“However, I cannot grant this request.”
Another moment of silence.
“I understand your desire to settle this matter personally, child.” The Bishop’s tone softened slightly, and he gave a light sigh.
“But the matter is of great importance, and we need to follow rules and reason. Trust the Church’s professionals; believe that they will give you a just… and necessary answer.”
However, beyond his expectations, Loranst seemed to have realized something and showed a look of relief.
“Thank you, Bishop. Perhaps I really am too tired. Thank you for your concern. Please, you must save my team member. Save Lia.”
Loranst’s voice was exceptionally calm. He bowed slightly, performing a nearly flawless gesture of etiquette.
That final intimate name made the Bishop narrow his eyes, observing Loranst’s aura more carefully. There seemed to be… a faint feeling of sadness.
the forced hostility on his face seemed to vanish without a trace, replaced by a sort of exhaustion-driven compliance that made the Bishop hesitate, but mostly feel relieved.
“Rest assured, child. The Holy Light will surely guide us to the correct path.” The Bishop’s tone was much warmer as he comforted him, “Go back and rest well. Leave everything to the Church.”
Loranst said nothing more. He just nodded again, turned, and left the hall.
When he turned into a deserted alleyway, all the calmness, restraint, sorrow, and loss instantly transformed into anger, hatred, and resolve.
“Since the rules choose to indulge it… then I will save Irelia in my own way…!”
[Yes… save. I will save my team, save this city, save… this world in my own way! Even if I have to bear the infamy of the world in the future, be stained with the blood of the guilty, or even personally kill the one I once loved…!]
[As the Hero, I will surely fulfill my mission! I will wipe out the Calamity!]
[Rest… no, I don’t have time for that. I must set out immediately to track her down in the forest!]
Thinking this, he suddenly turned around, bypassed several adventurers who were about to come forward to show concern, and strode toward the forest outside the city.
Under the weight of his past-life memories and present-life pressure, he didn’t notice at all that his negative emotions were turning into the perfect nourishment, nurturing that pitch-black seed called obsession in his heart.