Pillars of Ita

Chapter 1292 First Star XI
In the darkness, scaly eyelids slowly opened, revealing a pulsating membrane. Beneath the membrane, within the golden-red iris, narrow pupils spewed forth flames.

It looked down with disdain, as if it could easily see through the bricks, sand and ground there, the remaining marble columns and the layers of the Triir Temple that imprisoned it like a prison.

She surveyed the entire fortress with a cold and indifferent gaze, then let out a cold laugh that echoed in the dark and quiet hall, causing sand and gravel to slide down from the vaulted ceiling like ribbons onto the marble shoulders of the elven goddess.

The once holy statue is now only half remaining. Its shattered face still bears a compassionate expression, but black mud spreads and grows at its feet. The rotting connective tissue, like a clump of rotten flesh, engulfs the entire temple, leaving only a wing, a claw, and flowing black blood.

Black blood spilled over the carpet and the steps, flowing out of the main hall and down the shattered marble steps, forming a waterfall that flowed down to the plaza halfway up the mountain and seeped into the ditches there.

Until it fills the entire magic array.

The golden-red eyes on the half-drooping head slowly lowered, obscuring the last ray of light, but beneath the massive, scale-covered mouth, rows of white teeth were revealed, still carrying a sharp, mocking smile.

The dark dragon lowered its head, its claws, and one wing, sinking once more into that endless dream. In that dream, it saw an ambitious young man.

a man.

A young girl.

With a young dragon that was not yet fully grown, trembling in fear under its lingering power.

Inside the pure white harbor, the golden fleet seemed to glow in the sunlight. Archbishop Baldoma stood at the bow of the ship, watching rows of knights dressed in gold and red disembark.

They are living saints of the Flame of the Covenant, saints of various dioceses, bishops of dioceses, and even cardinals, whose bodies have lost all sensory abilities after being modified by secret methods.

Clad only in heavy armor, they resembled mobile fortresses. Their bodies, after being modified, were nearly twice the height of ordinary people. The only weapons they used were an unusually large flail and a meteor hammer, which clanged against the armor as they moved.

The semi-saints wore heavy iron masks, and the visors carved with human faces completely covered their original appearances, leaving only a slit to observe the outside world. However, the pupils in the slit were emitting an ominous red light.

Below is a towering neck guard, and beneath the two-layered armor is another hinge connecting it to the magical armor below. Each metal surface is covered with layers upon layers of ritual magic circles.

Then he put on a gold-trimmed battle robe, with a thorn crown painted in the center of the robe. The thorns of the crown pierced the golden heart, and blood flowed down, staining the robe red.

Several prayers were inscribed on the edge of the robe:

Blood flowed from the fire.

Those born from either will inevitably be enemies.

'O knights who perished together, swear by the fire.'

When that day comes
You will surely bring peace to all your enemies.

Not far away, the messengers of the Oath Court stopped in their tracks, staring in disbelief at these tall knights—half-saints—the Oath Court's half-human, half-construct bodies modified by bloodborne magic.

But how did this legion end up here, and how could there be so many of them?
Not long ago, the Oath Court's fleet received a report from scouts at the front that another Oath Court fleet had landed in the Trog-Marlo district. The fleet commander was furious at who was so audacious as to impersonate the Oath Court's fleet, but he never expected that the messenger he sent would encounter such a scene.

In the Oath Court, the Half-Saint Knights are the core force protecting the Holy See, and due to the limitations of Bloodborne magic, they almost never leave the core parish of the Oath Court.

But the messenger rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was seeing things. He looked at the gleaming fleet, its size dwarfing his own. For a moment, he even had a strange feeling.

Perhaps compared to the Oath Court's fleet, they are more like imposters.

The soldiers on the perimeter caught a glimpse of his attire but did not stop him. The messenger then proceeded to the foot of the ship and asked the people on board:

"Who sent your army? Is it reinforcements from the Holy See?"

Seeing the ship's decorations and the knights and priests moving back and forth on the deck, he was even more certain that this was a fleet of the Oath Court.

Although the other party's clothing and the details of the emblem were somewhat unfamiliar to him, the innate feeling was undeniable, and as a member of the Oath Court, he could tell at a glance.

The messenger was now certain that these people were his colleagues, but he was curious about where they came from. The Temple had gone to great lengths to resolve the Bloodborne Curse.

The three dioceses, along with numerous free knights, even appealed to the Order of the Ancient Order for help. Although not all three cardinals arrived, the Holy See's elite forces, led by Lady Bellel, were almost entirely mobilized.

Where did this fleet come from?

Why did they arrive so late? Did they miss the assembly time?
The messenger felt it necessary to confirm, but the priests on the ship had already recognized him and had no interest in understanding these phantoms from three hundred years ago.

"That's not what you should ask."

One of the priests came to the side of the ship and looked down at him, saying:

“Go back to where you came from. We have our own mission. This is the Oath Court’s top secret and has nothing to do with you.”

“But Ms. Beryl.”

"This is none of our business, lady. You can tell her that we won't stop your attack, but you shouldn't get in our way either."

"Are you also going into the fortress?" the messenger asked.

“Of course,” the priest replied, “but rest assured, we will pave our own way. Go and tell your fleet that we will launch an attack from another direction.”

The messenger nodded with some skepticism, but since these people were going to attack the fortress, they were enemies, not friends. The situation inside the fortress was deteriorating rapidly, and they needed a fresh force to relieve the pressure.

Besides, he had no say in these matters; he was merely an envoy responsible for relaying the messages back to the fleet commander. As for what happened after that, that was none of his business.

The fleet commanders and Lady Bellel will naturally make the decision.

Archbishop Baldoma watched this scene from afar, then turned to the figure in the shadows beside him and said, “We can certainly use them. We are all from the Oath Court and are natural allies. The expeditionary force that the Holy Seraph once led was quite powerful. Even if they were just phantoms three hundred years ago, at least on this battlefield, these people are still useful.”

"Really?" The wanderer, using the alias Kobelflick, chuckled. "Is the Oath Court three hundred years ago really the same as the Oath Court three hundred years later? I'm afraid that if Berel finds out the truth about our cooperation, the first thing she'll do is kill us. In those days, the Holy Oath Army was a holy flame that cleansed all sins and tolerated no defilement. Are you planning to test whether the holy sword in that lady's hand is sharp enough?"

“The same will be true for the Oath Court three hundred years from now,” the Archbishop replied. “The cooperation between the Oath Court and you is only temporary. It was the Temple of Myro and the Twelve Pillars of the Stars who wronged the Oath Court. Now we cannot even preserve the path of the Oath of Holy Flame, so how can we talk about cleansing our sins? All of this is just a temporary measure. The curse is not our fault. The offspring of the Holy Flame are the descendants of heroes. We are just taking back what is rightfully ours.”

"So you're planning to meet that lady?"

Baldoma fell silent for a moment before speaking sternly: "Stop talking nonsense, Kobelflick. Don't forget who you are. The Oath Court is not here to negotiate with you."

Art was unfazed by the other party's anger and instead laughed heartily. "Don't mind it, of course I remember. But I'm not trying to stop you from catching up with that lady; I'm just worried you'll miss the last chance."

"What do you mean?"

Art, enduring the increasingly somber gaze, looked towards the city of Vo-Salastiel. "The magic array within the fortress has been activated. You treat the master of the old world as an outsider, but while I covet His power, I have never underestimated him. If you are not careful and allow His flames to rise from the old world, then your world will likely face an even more bleak future—"

He turned to the Archbishop of Anderson Diocese and said, “At least on this point, I have not lied to you. At the moment when the first prophecy came true, the first star fell, and the last catastrophe of this world swept in, every chance that allowed this world, destined to fall into the sea of ​​fire, to survive was extremely precious to this world.”

"Let me bring it back once again. It's up to you to choose. In that respect, you haven't done anything wrong, nor have you betrayed the Oath of the Holy Flame."

“That last sentence is superfluous,” Baldoma began. “If we start planning now and storm the inner city, how much time do we have left?”

Art looked at the ethereal halos that appeared above the temple; the Rota's fleet's continuous firepower still hadn't managed to break through the barrier.

But those halos are overlapping each other, forming a more complex and precise symbol. Although there are still blank spaces in its north and southwest corners, a huge magic circle suspended in mid-air has already begun to take shape.

“The formation of the magic circle will take time, and it seems that your colleagues are not occupying the nodes at a very fast pace,” Art said. “If you can get me to the central magic circle, then there is still a chance for things to turn around.”

“Let’s exchange contracts,” Baldoma said.

The wanderer looked at the other person with some surprise, "You still believe in this? The covenant of the saints doesn't have much binding force on me."

“Swear to the saints of darkness,” the archbishop from Anderson Diocese said calmly, looking only at the other person. “Swear it.”

Art was momentarily stunned, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes. "To swear an oath to the Saints of Darkness means to betray them. Have you thought it through, Your Excellency?"

“The moment you fulfill your vow,” he said, emphasizing each word, “is the moment you are utterly disgraced.”

The archbishop smiled for the first time, revealing an indifferent expression. "Swear an oath—Kobelflick, no, Mr. Art, are you afraid?"

Art shut his mouth, gave the other person a meaningful look, and then nodded. A jet-black contract appeared out of thin air in front of him. He stretched out his hand, conjured a quill pen woven from the black feathers of a chimera, signed his name on it, and then looked up at the other person.

The archbishop silently looked at the name before handing the scepter to a priest beside him, removing his crown, slicing his fingers with a golden knife, and pressing his fingerprint onto the contract.

in this way.

The contract is established.

……

On the battlefield, Berel looked up, sensing something, and gazed in one direction.

She seemed to sense a strange, unsettling gaze there, but the feeling was fleeting, and the gaze vanished without a trace.

Beryl silently looked toward the direction of the temple atop the mountain. She knew perfectly well where that gaze came from; from the moment they stepped into this place, the owner of that gaze had been omnipresent.

Meanwhile, in mid-air, the magic array was slowly forming.

It first forms the outer three rings. As the pillar of light shoots into the sky, supporting the nodes of the magic array, the rings begin to slowly rotate, sweeping across half the sky.

The first ring had already crossed the outer wall of the fortress, the second ring had already covered the area outside the port, and the third ring had expanded far beyond, covering the sky for dozens of miles around.

It even included the Rota's fleet in mid-air.

That was supposed to be part of their plan—

But now the scales are clearly tipping in an unexpected direction.

The magic array in the sky appeared extremely abnormal, with a hazy black light flowing within the ancient runes, and shadows continuously descending from it.

As soon as the purple flames touched the ground, a shadowy monster rose from them and flew towards the Oath Court's army and the Ancient Knights on the ground.

The leading knight swung his sword and cut the shadows in two, but the shadows immediately merged back into one, leisurely emitting mocking sounds, and then pounced again.

When there were few of these immortal monsters, the knights were still able to maintain their lines. But as the magic circle in the sky took shape, these monsters became almost everywhere in the city.

The surging shadows even coalesced into a wave, surging in from all parts of the city. The knights, who were ready to die for their cause, were still fine, but the ordinary soldiers had clearly begun to waver.

"Ms. Beryl?"

The accompanying knights looked at their archbishop with grim expressions. They had some reservations when Beryl ordered a retreat, but now they understood the foresight behind the order.

They had almost retreated to the outer edge of the sixth magic array node, yet the monsters' attacks remained relentless and overwhelming. If they were still near the central magic array at this point—

It's hard to imagine how many men they've lost by now; the ordinary soldiers, even the servants, have probably already collapsed.

Even so, this is still not a solution.

However, the knights received no response.

Beryl did not answer, but silently looked in one direction. At this moment, five of the seven spell nodes in Vo-Salastil's original plan had already responded.

Although that response was not what she wanted at that moment.

But the remaining two have yet to be released.

Her gaze fell on the southwest of the fortress, a direction that the Ancient Knights were originally responsible for, and theoretically, it was almost impossible to fail there.

But just moments before, she saw the magic circle there project and take shape in mid-air, but only a moment later, the runes there flickered and then disappeared.

Few people noticed this detail except for her.

what happened?
She suddenly thought of the young man that Selgios had brought, the holy child who shouldn't have existed—if that was the person chosen by Madam Marlan—

Why didn't the other party contact me at all?

A burst of light descended from mid-air, its dazzling brilliance like boiling water poured into snow, melting away the surging waves and creating a patch of white.

When people turned around, they found Beryl holding a scepter and looking at them.

"Come with me."

Beryl spoke calmly.

……

The magic circle is still expanding.

The sailors who were busy on the deck couldn't help but stop when they saw this scene. Their attacks on the barrier were almost ineffective and even had the opposite effect.

To the west, south, and northeast of Vo-Salasti, the massive magic circle is nearing completion, with three smaller rings emerging within it.

A shadow looming over the entire fortress was gradually emerging from the magic circle.

One head, one wing, one claw.

The owner of that decaying body was slowly opening his eyes once again, and this time it was no longer an illusion; those golden pupils were simultaneously sweeping across everyone.

The undead and dark minions within the city were all annihilated in that instant.

Everyone heard the sound of the chains loosening—

That was like an illusion.

It's like a glass mirror, shattering into pieces.

The shadowy figure let out a cold laugh.

Meanwhile, in another corner of Vo-Salastier, Miss Catwoman looked up at the scene and couldn't help but shake her head, "What a grand spectacle."

“That is not the power of Livegard,” said Boatswain Baggins, a man of wide experience who had traveled the world with Sylvie’s father and recognized the wonders of the elves.

But every time he saw it, he couldn't help but marvel at how magnificent this man-made scene was compared to natural wonders.

The power of the magic circle bound the dark dragon king.

Compared to this towering barrier, the Aushu people's proud war fortress paled in comparison, both the barrier itself and the floating fortress itself.

Only then can it truly be called a miracle of magic.

"What are we going to do?"

Catherine frowned as she looked at the things that were closing in from all directions.

Those shadow figures—she learned the names of these creatures from others, and judging from their twisted and frenzied appearance, they were clearly not there to invite them to be guests.

A calm voice came from behind her:

“Miss May, please block them.”

Gita opened the magic book in her hand.

"I need a moment."

The petite female knight nodded, raised her large shield, and stepped forward.

……