How to Live as a Tyrant’s Spoiled Brat Chapter 98

How to live as a tyrant’s spoiled brat Episode 98

(98)

The ergizer, which looked like a cross between a crow and a human, opened its metallic beak.

Kaaaaaaah-!

A high mental wave shook the cave, and the luminous moss on the walls instantly turned black and fell together with the hardened mud powder.

“iced coffee.”

Black Saint Matheos easily gauged the weight of that mental wave.

Perhaps because of its bird-like appearance, the eroder’s mental waves were unusually strong.

Even for a saint like him, it was so jarring to his ears that ordinary people would have been covered in feathers the moment they heard it.

However, neither he nor Valencian were in a position to succumb to mental waves and such.

In fact, Valencianus was running without a single step being lost.

The back of the white uniform still exuded a self-righteous and compassionate air.

So, it wasn’t a mental wave that made Mateos frown.

For a moment, he thought of his old friend Dismas.

It was strange and shocking to see the human side of the invaders, who had always been seen as monsters.

Because it made me keep thinking about the reason.

why?

Why on earth?

The clergy of the Gwangmyeong Church have a duty to evangelize.

They would seek out tribes in jungles or remote areas and persistently demand conversion to the point of being a nuisance, often bringing along paladins to force conversions.

No, actually, that happened more often.

If a desperate person even thinks of asking for help from anyone, the cruel and cunning old things will come and extend their claws, and the only thing that can stop them is the divine power of the priests who have been raised through the systematic education of the Gwangmyeong Church.

A sword or a scripture?

The reason the Gwangmyeong Church was able to spread throughout the continent was because they were the most useful, the most harmless, and the most powerful.

That made Mateos even more curious.

It was understandable that someone who had lived his whole life in the shadows of the city, in the dirty, damp alleyways, would not know or reject the grace of light.

Of course I couldn’t condone his behavior, but I felt sorry for him, and I thought it was possible.

But this is a monastery.

A place where there is no lack, where worldly power is most secure, and where people who perform miracles of light are abundant everywhere.

Why on earth would someone who already knows how dangerous the old things are be eroded?

I couldn’t understand it and I couldn’t accept it.

A deep crack appeared in the notion that he had believed to be safe and common sense.

So, even though Valencian showed fatal signs several times, he pretended not to see it.

Mateos thought.

I turned a blind eye to that, and that’s why I ended up seeing this.

Valencian’s back still did not waver.

He stopped about twenty paces away from the mutated young nun and recited the spell.

Sadly, the mutated young nun still had a similar body type to before her transformation.

The nun’s habit, with her name engraved on the sleeve, was almost intact except for a few tears here and there, and the rosary with a cross on the chest still dangled like a necklace.

‘I bet you’ve heard that you shouldn’t drive like that.’

Out of the blue, Mateos had this thought.

A mutated young nun rushed towards Valencian, who had stopped.

The sleeves swung wildly and black feathers flew out like daggers.

Phew!

It was powerful enough to embed itself deep into the cave wall.

The mutated young nun fired feathers while kicking the ground with an assassin-like movement.

In the darkness, the red light drew an unpredictable line that bent in three dimensions.

She kicked off the cave walls and ceiling and rushed towards Valencian.

Valencian, who had been reciting the spell, sighed softly and looked at the transformed young nun with a gaze filled with arrogant pride and pity.

Kwaaaaah-!

The next moment, flames shot out from Valencian’s left fingertips.

It seemed as if it would fill the entire passageway, which was 3 meters in diameter.

There was no way to avoid it, even if I clung to the ceiling or crawled on the floor.

“Kaaaah?”

A mutated young nun was engulfed in high-pressure flames, struggling and falling into the flames.

Valencianus fired flames so hard that the cave became deprived of oxygen.

“Your Majesty, I think that’s enough.”

Mateos, who couldn’t stand it any longer, approached and stopped him.

The body was already burned down to the bones and there was no trace to be found.

“sorry.”

Valencian bowed his head unusually deeply, and Matheus was taken aback.

“yes?”

“I know someone who has eroded… … No. Yes. Just.”

Valencian trailed off.

What you wear has a greater impact on your humanity than your face.

Mateos wasn’t the only one who recalled his life.

“… … I thought the Archduke was a cruel and heartless scoundrel.”

Mateos said, bewildered by the fresh shock.

“It’s true that you’re a loser. It’s true that you live however you want, and it’s also true that you use all sorts of tricks to hit people when you don’t like them.”

Valencian did not deny it.

All he did was push his white hair back, and above all, his inhuman golden eyes twinkled.

With emotions other than anger.

Mateos looked around the room where thirty people were lying.

Now he too could make up his mind.

Anger towards those who made choices he did not understand made the Black Saint tremble.

‘Don’t let me forget this anger.’

He prayed like that.

There’s no way that kid could have been the instigator.

First, I wanted to burn happily those who served the old.

“It is too late to save them. I will give rest to the people in the room. And… … .”

“and?”

“I will go out and hold the abbot accountable. If he knew, he is a great sinner. If he didn’t know, he is a great sinner.”

Valencian laughed like a doll.

The only color present was in his white face and yellow eyes.

He heard the voice of the black saint he knew.

“Good idea.”

* * *

It was a quiet, but not particularly holy, night.

Ten ravens, who looked like a mix of crows and humans, gathered behind the cathedral.

Some were priests, some were candidates for the Order of Paladins, some were nuns, and some were monks.

All served the light together, and all fell into the shadows for the same reason.

Their red eyes flashed, their steel beaks clacked, and their blade-like feathers and talons flicked.

Some were armed with long swords or sickles that they had wielded before the erosion.

“You’re a step too late.”

“That’s right. We were one step late.”

“The flower I was growing inside died.”

“That’s right. The flowers I was growing inside died.”

“It’s still okay.”

“Yes, it’s still okay.”

“There are a lot of injured people over there in the east.”

“That’s right. There are a lot of injured people over there in the east.”

One of the eroders hesitated for a moment and then said:

“You can start over again.”

All the eroders hesitated for a moment and then answered.

“You can start over again.”

Immediately afterwards, a thunderous roar shook the silence of the night.

“Start again, stop the same old story! The undead will go to hell, and you will burn for eternity!”

Kiiiiiiiiik!

The dragon’s words were followed by the roar of the wyvern.

The wind created by the strong wings shook the ten eroders.

Black Saint Matheos slowly rose up the cliff while standing on the wyvern’s back.

His masculine face, like a marble sculpture, was distorted with fiery anger, and his hair and eyes, blacker than the night sky, glowed and sparkled with divine power.

The saint’s black robes fluttered as he dismounted from his wyvern and placed one foot on the ground.

A solemn ‘ra-‘ sound rang out like an auditory hallucination, and a translucent force field of divine power enveloped the ten invaders.

The eroders rolled along the bottom like a boy hit by a wave.

But the saint’s wrath was nothing compared to the waves.

“Kaaaah!”

“Kkaaaak!”

“Kkaaaak!”

The cries of crows once again broke the silence of the night.

The unquenchable flame of purification burned, fueled by the very energy of the old.

Even as the eroders rolled on the ground and waved their feathered arms, the purifying flames did not go out.

Among the invaders, there was one who cut off his own head with the sword he was holding.

Mateos didn’t give them even a glance of pity.

“Archduke Valencian.”

The voice was so cold that it could even freeze ice again.

“Yes, your majesty.”

Valencianus, who had sent the wyvern back, answered politely.

Mateos spoke coldly, looking at the black buildings built along the ramp.

“The revelation was right. Yes. I am such a pitiful saint who has only just realized it. From now on, I will not ask for proof of His will. This power is His proof. What more could I possibly know?”

There are heresies in this world, but no pseudo-religions, and God is not something to be believed in, but something to be known.

The deputy followed Valencianus, pushing back the hair that covered his forehead, revealing the stigmata that shone like the rising sun.

“I light up this night in the name of the Sun, the embodiment of light. Please, Lord, do not let my indignation subside. Do not let me understand why that child had to be eroded.”

Black Saint Matthew walked towards the cathedral.

There was a shadow blocking the back door of the cathedral.

Valencianus said, encircling his sword with flames.

“Saint, please go up immediately.”

“I will burn everything with my own hands… … .”

“If it has feathers, it will also have wings, and it may fly away given time.”

“!”

“I also cannot understand why that young nun had to end up like that, so please take my anger out on her instead.”

* * *

The back door of the cathedral, unlike the side doors, did not have a crucifix.

There are various legends and folk tales as to why this is the case, but the most commonly used logic is an interpretation of the phrase in the scriptures, “the one who casts a shadow.”

Since people can never live perfectly honest lives, wherever they are, they cannot help but feel like they are always being watched, and the idea was to cast a bit of a shadow to ease that burden.

“But your shadow is too dark, Sister Tella.”

Valencian illuminated Sister Tell with his flame-tipped sword.

A shadow fell across her face beneath her nun’s veil.

Tella didn’t shake her head.

It just turns his once bright and inquisitive brown eyes black.

“It’s no use asking for understanding.”

“I can understand, but I have no choice but to kill you. You are monsters who want to devour the entire world, and I am the older brother of the person who owns half the world.”

Black feathers and black fog spread out from Tella’s body in a spherical shape like a force field.

Valencian knew that this was a way to buy time for the transformation, so he rushed forward and stabbed with his sword.

Imperial Swordsmanship Level 4, Zariita.

A superior technology of the Ilchigaego that can withstand massive loads and accelerate.

Mana resonated within Valencianus’ body and his muscles swelled explosively.

A feeling of tightness from the inside of the shoulders and upper arms.

As I swung my Mana Blade and Flame Sword, the black force field split apart with the sound of breaking glass.

However, Tella had already completed her mutation.

A height of nearly 4 meters even with a bent back, a white exoskeleton and black feathers covering its entire body, long arms that seemed to reach the ground and a grip strong enough to grab and crush Valencianus, a pair of wings made of half-rotted black feathers.

Finally, a steel beak is created with a protruding nose and mouth.

But what makes her even more terrifying is that her overall body shape and shoulder width are still similar to those of a human.

“world.”

The fact that she was still wearing her black habit and veil.

Valencian smiled bitterly and swung his sword.

Rolling on the ground, avoiding the palms that flew in at a tremendous orbit.

* * *

Mateos headed to the abbot’s room.

Here and there, eroded nuns and monks stood in his way, but they could not reach his body and the black feathers began to burn.

As I opened the door wide, Abbot Hansen appeared.

A man who appears to be kind and gentle, but has a strong heart.

He was sitting at the same round table where we had sat across from each other in the morning.

“this……!”

Matheos summoned his divine powers, burning with rage at the indescribable sense of betrayal.

“Do you have anything to say to me?”

What came back was what I expected.

“I had no choice.”

That’s why those words made me even more angry.

“I don’t know about other people, but shouldn’t we not be doing this?”

“The war had to end!”

It took me a while to understand what he meant.

“What on earth does erosion have to do with land warfare!”

“It was because of the count’s son.”

Another door opened and a man walked in.

A handsome face befitting a nobleman of mixed race, and arms blackened by the aura of erosion.

He was the son of Count Antares.