Chapter 138: Fear and Joy

“Every time I see the power of the Holy Relic, it always feels miraculous.” Viscount Youn said.

He rode on a warhorse, clad in armor engraved with his family crest.

“This is but a trivial fragment of its power. When fully unleashed, it could easily tear apart a Baron’s Territory.” Viscount Logan said.

In his hand, he held a shield—this too was his Holy Relic.

The two accompanying barons turned pale upon hearing this.

But Viscount Logan ignored them and directly issued the command.

“Everyone, march forward. Since Wolf dares to slaughter villages, then every village in York Territory shall be cleansed—only the population in the towns needs to remain.”

“Your will.” The knight appointed as the coalition commander responded loudly, then relayed the military order.

Seeing the army begin to move, Viscount Logan turned to Viscount Youn. “Brother Youn, Wolf has already fled back. I will definitely help you catch him so that you may properly judge his crimes.”

He spoke with a smile on his face.

Of course he smiled.

After all, everything in York Territory was his now. Viscount Youn only hoped to retrieve his Holy Relic.

“Kill him on sight. He’s merely a knight. I have no interest in letting this butcher defile my eyes.”

Viscount Youn’s expression was cold.

Clearly, the news brought by the Rat Path about Knight Wolf was not so insignificant to him.

“Haha—” Viscount Logan couldn’t help but laugh aloud. Just as he was about to say something, he suddenly looked in the direction of York Territory.

In his field of vision, a ray of light streaked across and landed in front of him.

“Hm? An arrow?” Viscount Logan saw an arrow stuck in the ground.

He beckoned for a squire to retrieve it.

But when Viscount Youn saw the arrow, he was momentarily stunned, and then his expression changed drastically.

Without hesitation, he leapt from his horse and crashed into Viscount Logan.

It was so sudden—no one would have expected that Viscount Youn, clearly at a disadvantage, would suddenly assault Viscount Logan.

Neither did Logan expect it, and so he was knocked down by Viscount Youn.

They were nobles, not knights—riding horses merely for transportation, so they weren’t strapped to the saddle.

And Viscount Youn rolled, clutching Logan tightly like a shield, facing the sky.

“Youn, are you insane?!” Logan cursed furiously.

But just after yelling, he lay on his back and caught a glint of light flickering in the sky from the corner of his eye.

“Shit! Is this your Holy Relic?!” Logan understood Youn’s intention, cursing loudly as he raised his shield with force.

Golden arrows rained down. Screams echoed as each arrow could easily tear through flesh. Where they landed, the powerful impact gouged large craters in the ground.

Some tried to flee, but the rain of arrows covered a range too vast for the naked eye to see its edge.

They recalled what Viscount Logan had just said—that the opponent’s Holy Relic, when fully unleashed, could cover an entire Baron’s Territory.

And this arrow storm might be exactly what Viscount Logan had described.

It was truly despairing.

After the rain of arrows, only a field of craters and mangled flesh remained.

“Shit! Shit! Youn, you bastard! Your Holy Relic can be used by them so easily?!”

Logan roared in fury.

The Earth Shield he had raised was slowly retracting.

As the arrows rained down, the shield had unfolded and protected the two of them.

“After this strike, my Holy Relic will take at least ten years to recover!”

“You should’ve brought it when you came to the coalition—how could you hide such a powerful Holy Relic?”

“You—hrrk—”

Before he could continue cursing, a sharp pain struck his neck, cutting off his breath—his throat clogged with blood.

“…” Viscount Youn did not respond. He merely slashed again with the dagger in his hand, slicing halfway through Viscount Logan’s neck.

Soon, the body twitched a couple of times, and Viscount Logan was completely dead.

Pushing the corpse aside, Viscount Youn stood up, staring at the marks left on the Earth Shield after deflecting the Holy Relic’s power, his expression grim.

He dared not consider how Knight Wolf could activate his Holy Relic so quickly.

Moreover, the power of this arrow was far stronger than he remembered.

Perhaps it was because the bowstring had been drawn to its fullest.

In his memory, no one in his family had ever managed to pull it to full draw.

He picked up the Earth Shield, but the corpse’s hands were still tightly gripping it.

Viscount Youn frowned, showing a hint of impatience.

He squatted down and began cutting off the corpse’s fingers with the dagger, one by one.

Then, he slung the shield over his back and left the area that had been turned into a land of craters by the arrow storm.

At the Monastery, a funeral was being held.

The apprentices lowered their heads in silent mourning. The three monks who had gone to war sobbed quietly. Melia knelt beside the mat where Nyx’s body lay and wept bitterly. Nyx’s body was covered with a piece of pale yellow hemp cloth.

Oscar, who served as the funeral’s officiant, felt vaguely uneasy.

Looking around, only Olivia was gazing at him. But when their eyes met, her gaze shifted to Melia.

Olivia was Melia’s close friend. Perhaps now she mourned for Melia.

That lovely face which once wore a silly smile was now deadly serious.

Beside Olivia stood Cicero.

He was also a close friend of Melia.

Back when they were still at the Small Church, they had already known each other.

Now Cicero too wore a solemn expression.

He must be deeply grieved inside.

To Oscar, Cicero—who didn’t appear to be even twenty—seemed a fitting match for Melia.

After all, he was now highly regarded by the Bishop.

Thinking this, Oscar turned his gaze to Melia.

He walked over and gently lifted her up.

“Enough now, Melia. It’s getting late. It’s time to lay Mr. Nyx to rest.” Oscar said.

Melia looked at Oscar and seemed to read something in his eyes.

So, she wiped her tears and nodded.

After the funeral, Oscar took Melia to the Library.

“Actually, some time ago while Mr. Nyx was at the Monastery, he already knew his life was nearing its end.” Oscar said.

“So he came to the Monastery—partly to see you, and partly to write these books.” He gestured toward a nearby bookshelf.

The shelves above and below were empty; only the middle row was filled with books.

Melia was very familiar with them—these were the teachings Nyx had given her.

She withdrew her gaze, her red eyes looking toward Oscar.

“You mean to say he already knew he was going to die, yet still chose to go to war?”

Melia asked.

“Yes.” Oscar nodded. Just as he was about to continue, Melia interrupted him.

“Would he have died even if he hadn’t gone to war?” Melia stared intently at Oscar.

Oscar opened his mouth, but couldn’t speak. At last, he simply closed it.

“You’re not allowed to lie, so I hope you will tell me everything you know.”

“Please believe me—I won’t do anything irrational. I just want to understand his final thoughts. I want to know if he willingly embraced death.” Melia said seriously.

Oscar was momentarily stunned, but finally sighed and told Melia the truth.

From the fact that Nyx still had half a year to live, to the documents he wrote before his death.

“Although I haven’t finished reading it all, from what I’ve seen so far—Mr. Nyx was fearful, but joyful.” Oscar said at last.

Though fear and joy were opposing emotions, Melia could understand.

Such was the scholar—afraid of the unknown, yet joyful to understand it.

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