Vol 2. Chapter 37: The Existence of Precedent

“The Goddess! It’s the Goddess of Radiance! I saw Her! She manifested above Saintess Selina Cathedral, spreading Her wings and soaring over the stained glass of the Sanctum courtyard!”

Many students with Church backgrounds were visibly overwhelmed with excitement at that moment.

“Everyone, don’t panic! The Goddess has descended! The Goddess came down to save us! I saw it with my own eyes!” The students shouted to their classmates and colleagues.

“She flew over from Saintess Selina Cathedral? Could it be Her Holiness, Saintess Selina?!”

“I don’t know, but either the Goddess of Radiance or Saintess Selina has definitely manifested!”

Many senior students who had already joined the battle hadn’t witnessed this scene themselves, but the rumor spread like wildfire, and more and more people became aware of it.

After all, people always prefer to believe what they want to believe. In such a desperate and catastrophic moment, hearing that the Goddess had descended to help them eradicate the Demon God Pillar cultists was undeniably uplifting—it immediately turned the tide of their collapsing morale.

“The Goddess! Where’s the Goddess?! I want to meet the Goddess myself! I have so many things to report to Her!”

“The Goddess descended? From the direction of the Cathedral?!”

On the other side of Carillian Academy, some of the combat instructors who heard the rumors looked rather doubtful, clearly skeptical of what they’d heard.

“Fecolin, what’s your take on this?” one colleague asked the golden bird-helmeted warrior beside him, who was hammering away at a Demon God Pillar cultist.

“My take? Rumors that spread during battle are the least reliable,” Fecolin replied indifferently, focusing entirely on pummeling the fanatic.

With one punch, he shattered the fanatic’s nose, and with the next, he caved in the man’s face.

“Damn bastard, stop hitting me already!” The fanatic, unable to land a single blow in return, roared with fury as he saw his opponent still casually chatting with his colleague mid-fight.

When had a fanatic ever been looked down upon like this?!

These inferior, weak humans—he was being attacked with fists, yet somehow, he couldn’t counter at all?!

He was a fanatic—a high-ranking descendant of the Demon God Pillar! How could a mere human be overpowering him with bare fists?!

Furious, the fanatic decided to stop holding back. He unleashed his most proficient technique—the Two-Element Storm.

Seeing this, the bird-helmeted man also got serious. He leaped into the air, spinning his arms around his body in a full three-hundred-sixty-degree rotation, clearly preparing to unleash a powerful technique.

Then, extending his fist, his body spun like a missile, diving straight down toward the fanatic.

[Spiral Rotation Fist]

As he descended, there were no flashy embellishments. Everything had been mere setup for that plain, devastating punch.

The fanatic, unable to finish casting his Two-Element Storm, was struck mid-preparation. One clean hit sent him flying dozens of meters away, unable to utter a single word.

“Probably something happened near the Cathedral, and people mistook it for the Goddess descending,” Fecolin muttered as he flexed his fist after finishing off the fanatic. “These guys can sure take a beating... All the years I’ve fought demons and Demon God Pillar cultists, these ones are some of the toughest.”

“Should we head to the Cathedral to check it out?” his fellow instructor asked.

“We haven’t even dealt with the mess in front of us. How would we go anywhere?” Fecolin glanced at the fanatic, who, despite being knocked unconscious just moments ago, stood back up within three seconds.

These infiltrators hidden within the Academy weren’t easy to handle. No doubt Bronze Blood had gone all-in, playing their final cards. Their intentions were obvious—they aimed to seize Carillian Academy in one swift assault.

“Damn it... I really don’t want to lose my job for the second time,” Fecolin cursed.

“But... is this really fine? Who knows what’s happening at the Cathedral,” his colleague asked uneasily.

“Whatever’s happening there, it’s out of our hands. Right now, saving lives is priority number one. If we can’t even protect the students and instructors, what good is some dead building?” Fecolin stated bluntly.

If certain students or instructors with Church backgrounds had heard that, they probably would’ve been furious, but Fecolin clearly didn’t care in the slightest.

“To think you used to be a Champion Knight of the Radiant Church... You’re not exactly ‘pious,’ huh?”

“Pious? True piety is saving as many people as possible in moments like this, not clinging to lifeless structures,” Fecolin retorted coldly, sidestepping another furious charge from the fanatic and landing yet another heavy punch to his face.

Honestly, these grotesque, tentacle-backed creatures were absurdly durable. His fists practically smoked from the constant pounding, yet they were still hopping around like nothing happened.

“More importantly, I’ve got a feeling—if we don’t deal with those floating coffins in the sky, we’re in big trouble,” Fecolin remarked, gazing up at the blood-red altar overhead.

Earlier, the altar had still seemed faint, almost like a mirage. But now, it had become disturbingly solid, looming there in the sky, bound with countless writhing souls.

“Just now, the Academy made the decision—we’re to completely destroy the foundation of that airborne altar. Once the foundation collapses, that floating monstrosity will come down with it,” his colleague explained after a moment’s pause.

“...Destroy the foundation? You mean... along with those kids up there?” Fecolin fell silent for a second.

“There’s no other way. Humans transformed into Demon God Pillar descendants via alchemical potions... It’s irreversible. No historical records or documents show otherwise,” his colleague spoke heavily.

This day was undoubtedly a tragic one for Carillian Academy. But what choice did they have?

If they couldn’t even defend the Academy, the death toll would only escalate. If the Demon God Pillar succeeded, the entire continent of Terrelis might be next.

Whatever the reason, they had to take responsibility for the continent. If they failed, no one could bear the consequences.

“...Who told you there was no precedent?” Fecolin’s next words left his colleague utterly stunned.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re all obsessed with the Cathedral’s fate. Haven’t you ever read the Church’s records?” Fecolin’s gaze sharpened as he looked toward a certain location.

“An incident where innocent humans were forcibly transformed into Demon God Pillar descendants... It’s not the first time. There’s historical precedent.”

“And back then... Despite sacrifices, the majority of those transformed were saved—returned to being human.”

“...That, that was done by one of the Radiant Church’s Saintesses?” His colleague was stunned.

Fecolin neither confirmed nor denied it.

“Which Saintess?”

“Distant, yet right before your eyes.” Fecolin looked toward Saintess Selina Cathedral. “Funny, her resting place is right here, and none of you even realize it.”

“You mean... Saintess Selina?!” It was the first time the combat instructor had heard of this. He wasn’t well-versed in the achievements of past Saintesses.

His knowledge of Selina was limited to her outstanding medical contributions—and her combat achievements against demons and Demon God Pillar cultists.

“You mean... Saintess Selina knew how to reverse the transformation of humans into Demon God Pillar cultists?!”

“That’s right. But only for those who accidentally ingested the potion—those who willingly pledged to the Demon God Pillar can’t be saved.”

“But talking about this is pointless now. Saintess Selina’s been dead for countless centuries, and that magic’s been lost.” Fecolin shook his head. “A thousand years... Forget magic, even her bloodline’s barely survived.”

“Surely such vital magic was documented by the Church?”

“Even if it was, no one else can use it. That magic requires Holy Light, and only a Radiant Saintess possesses that.” Fecolin stated flatly.

“Then...?”

“Exactly. No hope.” Fecolin sighed, his voice heavy.

“Though... if I recall, isn’t there a current student from the Fasylis bloodline enrolled here?” the instructor asked, uncertain. He wasn’t familiar with Radiant Church politics.

“No Saintess... but there’s a Saint... boy,” Fecolin muttered sarcastically.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just don’t get your hopes up. Focus on cleaning up this mess.” Fecolin raised his fists once more.

Meanwhile, in the first-year student dormitories—

“Little human girl... quite brave,” the fanatic sneered, facing the red-haired girl blocking his way.

“You... run!” Wounded and bloodied, Fenny gripped her sword tightly, barely holding back the fanatic as she shouted to the students behind her.

“But... what about you?!”

The first-years, hiding in the dorms but now attacked, were caught in despair.

They had no mana left, most were injured—they couldn’t defend themselves, let alone help.

“You can’t help me... I’m a future Radiant Cross Knight! My duty is to protect you! Now go!” Fenny shouted, battered and on the verge of collapse.

The first-years clenched their teeth. It felt pathetic to be protected by a girl—but they had no other choice.

“Futile. No need to make this troublesome... You’ll all reunite in hell,” the fanatic said, sharpening his claws.

Fenny planted her knight’s sword into the ground, summoning [Holy Wood Seal] once again.

“Pointless, little girl... Your crosses are as fragile as sticks,” the fanatic laughed, swiping his flame-claws and tearing the glowing crosses apart like building blocks.

She knew... she wasn’t his match.

Even with so many first-years attacking earlier, they hadn’t scratched the fanatic. Their attacks didn’t even make him flinch.

For the first time, these so-called geniuses saw the crushing gap between themselves and true strength. They despaired.

So did Fenny. This was her first encounter with an unbeatable foe. Her legs trembled in fear, but she refused to retreat.

A knight’s position... is the people’s final shield. She couldn’t step back.

She was a future Radiant Knight—a loyal follower of the Goddess of Radiance, protector of the weak.

She had sworn to defend the Goddess, to protect the powerless and peace. Even without her formal knighthood, she was a descendant of the Cassius family—heir to Champion Knight Shelton Cassius. She couldn’t disgrace that name.

[Luminous Strike]

Without time to charge fully, her Luminous Strike was weak, the light on her sword dim.

All she could do was buy time for the others to escape—with her life and courage.

The fanatic scoffed, not even dodging, letting her strike him head-on.

The runners? None would escape.

His favorite game—cat and mouse. The joy of hope turned to despair.

He was the cat.

Clang!

Her sword struck his iron-like skin, the impact splitting her palms open.

The fanatic stood, unmoving, faint shimmering liquid dripping off him.

Magic and physical strikes—useless. The despair suffocated Fenny.

“Enjoy the game, little girl?” the fanatic seized her throat, lifting her effortlessly. “You think you’re noble—foolish. Those runners won’t thank you. They’ll just laugh at your stupidity.”

The fanatic rejected notions of nobility. At death’s door, only resentment remained—and that’s what he fed on.

He wanted these ‘noble’ humans to die realizing their ugliness.

Wounded, Fenny struggled—her strength fading.

Warm blood welled in her throat, spilling from her lips. She knew... her time was up.

Goddess... I tried... am I worthy... of being Your follower?

“You’re so weak... that little light spell didn’t even tickle me,” the fanatic sneered.

The next moment—his head did get a taste of Luminous Strike.

BOOM!

A ferocious blast of light and force sent the unprepared fanatic tumbling head over heels.