How to Live as a Tyrant’s Spoiled Brat Chapter 100

How to live as a tyrant’s spoiled brat, episode 100

(100)

Mateos was the fire of God, and the hammer of God.

Originally, he was better at purifying than healing.

Although he did not know it, the reason he was chosen as a saint 10 years earlier than before the return was the same as before the return.

Anger towards a friend who has been eroded.

‘Lord, give me the strength to burn that sinner.’

He remembers what he said that day when he saw his old friend in the sewer, who had become a horrible monster.

As time passed, he became an increasingly skilled purifier.

But what this monastery needed was not a purifier.

“Please answer, Saint.”

The abbot, who had served the light all his life, appealed with tears that had dried up.

“What should I, what should I have done?”

Mateos felt terribly frustrated.

I felt like something was stuck in my throat, but I couldn’t get it out.

He realized with a faint feeling.

It was light that changed those who knew the light.

“Why is there no answer?”

When you look up at the ringed cross while making the sign of the cross, an answer comes back that is indifferent, clear, and lucid.

He is a man of righteous indignation and does not forgive those who compromise.

The task at hand was clear.

Burn the abbot to death and purify the corrupted Confucius.

If Confucius dies because of that, then there’s nothing we can do about it.

Even the count or the prince himself would not find it strange.

Because it is literally unavoidable.

Mateos suddenly thought.

What would Argos do?

What would Duke Valencian do?

Those two would definitely have done this.

I will kill the abbot, purify the Confucius, whether he lives or dies, and investigate everyone in this monastery.

After that, I will contact the nearby archdioceses and ask them to send me a new director or staff, and I will have an Inquisitor stay for a few years to manage any possible danger.

It’s sad, but I’ll do something about it.

Argos would do it mechanically and shed a tear after everything was over, while Grand Duke Valencian would do it with a smile.

He had to do that too.

“You are a cruel person.”

Mateos sighed and looked out the window.

The sky was not visible, perhaps because of dark clouds.

Swaaaaaaaaaahh …

Early spring rain began to pour down without warning.

It soaked the black stones and green grass.

The reason he was better at purifying than healing was probably because he valued principles more than mercy.

The principle pursued by Matheos was the principle of justice, unlike the arbitrary principles of Valencianus.

Even if it was justice, it wasn’t that great, since it was the justice of a saint who was a seminarian and not even thirty years old.

Just a wish for a world where good will can be rewarded with good will and happiness.

For that purpose, he wanted to purify the evildoers who had killed, tormented, or made pacts with the Old Ones for immortality, gold, and the like.

The villains I met after becoming a saint were a little different.

A fat, evil nobleman sought health and eternal life for his terminally ill daughter, and Judge Susanno accepted bribes to buy medicine that would cure his sister’s leg.

There are fewer people who commit evil deeds for themselves than you might think.

Only after knowing that did Matheos understand why God had chosen fire and the hammer.

Even after knowing this, we needed someone who could pass judgment.

We needed principles, we needed lines.

I needed a spark to stop those who wanted to fill the empty space in my heart by tearing out the hearts of others.

A mechanical purifier was needed.

He said, squeezing his eyes shut.

Black hair covered his eyes.

“Hansen, I hereby dismiss you from the position of Abbot of Alzenversa for the crime of holding hands with the Old Ones.”

“yes.”

“Hansen, I excommunicate you from the Church of Light for the crime of holding hands with the old.”

“……yes.”

A convulsion occurred in Hansen’s face.

It only took three seconds for 60 years of life in the capital to be in vain.

“Hansen, for the crime of holding the hand of the old one… … according to church law, you are sentenced to be burned at the stake.”

Mateos’ voice trembled.

“… … Yes, my lord. I will gladly accept it. But please answer me. What should I have done?”

Hansen did not rebel.

Mateos couldn’t answer.

If you want a standard answer, you can just ask your parish.

The church was an organization, and in an organization, the important things were reporting, sharing, and consultation.

Then the responsibility could be reduced.

Because if you do as you are told, there is no responsibility.

But just because responsibility was eliminated, it didn’t mean the problem went away.

Suddenly, Mateos looked up at the sky outside the window.

“Oh, God of Light.”

thud!

There was a loud noise and the cathedral shook violently.

With a “Warrr!” sound, the floor of the abbot’s office cracked and the three rolled out of the cathedral.

Matheos reflexively grabbed both Hansen and Confucius and landed.

“ah.”

The mutated Sister Tella, Vice-Director Odan, and Valencianus were fighting.

* * *

A cold rain fell at the end of winter.

Her platinum blonde hair was soaked with rainwater and her white uniform was splashed with mud.

Raindrops ran down her head from her beautiful, yet arrogant and gaunt face.

That sight definitely looked like she was crying.

Valencianus spewed out words that even the most thugs would not dare to utter.

“world!”

It’s hard to deal with just one mutated Sister Tella, but now the mutated Vice-President Ohdan has joined in.

The stubborn-looking vice president with square glasses and a square jaw mutated into a giant corpse crow.

He was smaller than a wyvern, but his wingspan must have been over 10 meters, and he was armed with black feathers and a metal beak and talons.

Here and there, white bones were visible between the missing feathers.

The mutated Vice-Chairman Oh Dan was skinless.

“Kaaaaaaah!”

Instead of spreading out in all directions, his mental waves came to a single point.

Even a moderate Valencian would stagger for a moment if hit directly.

By activating the starvation effect, my mental powers became stronger, but my five senses also became more sensitive, making it even more painful.

“Sharp stabbing flames!”

Valencian cast his spell, his pupils glaring vertically like a dragon’s.

One by one, long spear-like sparks rose into the air.

But the spear of flame never pierced the five-tiered structure.

Every time he tried to aim his magic, a giant hand would come down on him, threatening to crush him flat.

“Oh my gosh! Your Majesty!”

The mutated Sister Tella charged forward, swinging her massive 4-meter arms and bed-sized grips wildly.

It looked like he had just hit the cathedral wall, but I ignored him for now.

Valencian retreated, retreating down the slope below the cathedral.

Sister Tella rushed forward on all fours, her red eyes flashing.

At that moment he jumped up the slope again.

He ducked down and dodged the giant’s grip, then raised his sword and sliced Sister Tella’s knuckles.

wickedness!

The golden mana blade flashed, and Valencianus’ index finger, thicker than his thigh, was cut off.

He spun around and grabbed Sister Tella’s back, trying to cut the back of her knees.

Pufufufu!

“fu*k!”

A huge black feather fell from the sky, surrounded by red energy.

The force was enough to embed a feather over 2m long into the ground.

“Kaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

Once again, the mental waves gathered into one point and flew in.

Valencian gritted his teeth and stood his ground.

Now that the Yongchan ritual has been performed, there is no need to be forcibly eroded.

“You dare attack the royal family! Get away! You ugly crow. You don’t have a single piece of flesh, so you can’t even make soup!”

A golden eye slit vertically flashed and the longest spear of flame ever created flew into the rainy sky.

Wedge!

Pfft, and then bang!

A spear of flame flew like the wind and exploded after piercing through the wing and chest of the mutated Vice-Chief of the Five Dans.

Vice President Oh Dan stumbled and fell like a moth to a flame.

“ha ha ha! ……!”

At the same time, Sister Tella’s grip grabbed Valencian and pushed him to the ground.

Kwajijijik!

It was a force that could not be stopped by the liquid metal armor ‘Aqua-Teg’.

Even in his daze of shock, Valencian realized that he was on the verge of turning into a fruit that had been squeezed.

Also, the black blood flowing from Sister Tella’s severed index finger was soaking his own body.

‘But there is blood on this side.’

He gritted his teeth and, relying on his mental power accelerated by ‘Asa’, came up with the spell.

‘If they find out I used blood magic… … they’ll be angry.’

Jaylilith was wary of many royals and their use of magic, but she was especially wary of the royals’ blood magic.

When I asked the reason before returning, it was said that blood magic itself was a product of the vampire clan, a creation of the old days, and that it would become vulnerable to erosion if used.

This is usually not the case for even the most noble magicians, but the logic that one must always be on guard, as the ancients were always watching even the smallest emotional gaps of the royal family, the pinnacle of bloodlines, was sadly correct.

“Bloody spread!”

Valencian used magic by relying on memory, omitting the spells and incantations.

A massive amount of mana flowed out from her heart, and dozens of black blood thorns rose up from the cross-section of Sister Tella’s index finger and stabbed her palm.

Sister Tella screamed and raised her hands, and Valencian took advantage of the opportunity to stand up and prepare to attack again.

Imperial Swordsmanship Level 3, Zariita.

The trick is to start late and harvest first.

It was a stage where synergy was created even more when working with Asa.

Sister Tella tore off all the blood thorns and summoned white feathers to begin healing the wounds.

At the same time, he swung his other arm like a pitchfork, with red energy and black feathers swirling around, and scorched the ground.

Quagagagagagak!

Valencian stared calmly at the mighty attack.

With those vertically slit eyes glaring.

And then, the cold spring rain rolled down his platinum hair, across his forehead, and flowed down his eyebrows.

He slashed the sword he was holding in his hand without mercy.

‘You ended up taking a different path from us.’

Evil, evil, evil!

It was a perfectly timed combo as Sister Tella swept the ground.

The white shell and iron-black leather also had to have a way to move muscles, and Valencian’s swordsmanship was delicate and tenacious enough to target that way.

Blood spurted out along the wrist and forearm, forming lines of blood.

It wasn’t a deep attack, but I didn’t intend to attack that deeply in the first place.

“Bloody spread!”

Valencian groaned in pain as his heart tightened and cried out his incantation.

Pavababak!

Sister Tella’s black feathers and blood became thorns that dug deep into her body.

As soon as Valencian realized that his current injury was too severe to raise his arm, he kicked the ground.

“Die, you horrible monster!”

After that, he continued to spew out horrible, unspeakable curses.

Knock, knock, knock!

He jumped up, stepping on Sister Tella’s hands and elbows.

He stabbed his sword across his long collarbone, pulled it out, and opened a gap with the bloody spread, then drew up the energy of the dragon’s words.

This time it wasn’t a mistake.

“A flame that clings earnestly!”

Hurrruk!

As scales grew on the back of his hands, flames burst out from within Sister Tella’s body.

“Kaaaaaaah!”

Sister Tella fell to the floor, kicking wildly.

Valencian jumped from a height of 4 meters, slipped on the rainwater on the slope and rolled around.

“ha.”

He stopped with his arms and legs spread as his speed slowed, and he let out a deep sigh as he saw the mud staining his white uniform.

My whole body was wet and cold.

I think it would have been cold even if I hadn’t gotten wet.

The young nun’s blue eyes were still vivid in my mind.

“majesty?”

So at first I thought the voice was an auditory hallucination, and it was only after I heard it the second time that I began to see my surroundings.

“world.”

Common sense would dictate that if this division had occurred, the sleeping people would not have woken up.

Common sense would suggest that with the eroders running wild like this, the erosion would not stop spreading.

Even the most focused psychic waves were lethal to ordinary people.

“Come quickly!”

“This way!”

“Watch out for the kids!”

The knight candidates, the monks, the nuns, and the priests were taking refuge below, protecting the children.

Some of them already had black feathers sprouting from their bodies.

Valencian looked upward unconsciously.

“Mattheus… … .”

His voice trembled in an unnatural way.

* * *

Mateos looked around in confusion.

The children woke up on this cold, rainy day to find themselves once again homeless, and the monks had to accept the loss of all three of their high ranking officials.

Two burning devourers lit up the night with smoke and unquenchable flames, and Archduke Valencian collapsed, breathing heavily from exhaustion.

I didn’t want to blame anyone, I just felt sad and miserable.

“Confucius.”

It rained and my clothes got wet.

It was a relief not to know whether it was tears or rain.

“What do you think would have happened if Confucius had not left the castle that day?”

The heir to the Count’s family, who may have been the starting point of everything, answered with dead eyes.

“My father, Count Antares, eventually agreed, but Count Dorcaisis seemed to have a slightly different opinion.”

“… … .”

“My family was making some local gains. Count Dorkaisis must have thought I was ‘selling’ his daughter, ‘begging’ for peace, and ‘taking’ his family away.”

“Oh, light.”

“That was not an area where the undead originally appeared in large numbers. It was also far from the battlefield.”

Undead herd.

It was entirely possible.

Mateos sighed deeply.

I couldn’t let this successor to the Count’s family, whose name I didn’t even know, die.

“cold.”

“I… will hold your hand.”

If he dies, there will be another war and thousands more children like that will be created.

There were those who inherited rights and power through blood and became more noble than others.

All lives are equal in the face of light, but it was now a night when the sun did not rise.

Mateos thought with tears in his eyes.

“Hear my prayer.”

If the world is one where good intentions are not rewarded.

“Didn’t you choose me as your agent?”

If it were a world where each person’s good intentions collided and turned into evil.

“Please grant me the miracle they desire.”

If one who knows the light must embrace the shadow because of the light.

That it has to be changed.

“Grant me a miracle!”

If the world is like that and doesn’t change.

I will work a miracle like a saint.

Mateos took the hand of the Count’s heir with his hand that was filled with splendid divine power.

He did not refuse that touch even though the purification could have killed him instantly.

The power of healing and purification, layer upon layer, was unleashed.

Divine power shone like a lighthouse in the darkened sky.

A hot and cool flame enveloped the heir to the Count’s family.

Finally the fire was put out.

“Saint.”

The Count’s heir put his clean hands together and fell at Mateos’ feet.

It was a miracle performed by a saint.