Moonlight Blue

Archbishop Nelson remains calm even with the sudden outburst of mana.

“If I may speak. I would like to at least be accompanied by two of my priests. I don’t really have a good memory and I would like them to be there as witnesses.”

“As I have said. Those who want to follow you must be prepared to lose a limb.”

Gerard slowly reveals the collar of his blade, showing his meaning. What he gets from the other party is their cold glare.

Sweat slowly drips from Gerard. He could feel the pressure the man in front of him emits with only his glare. Right there and then, Gerald knew that if he were to fight this man, he would likely lose if not draw with him.

Right then, as if he had an epiphany, the expression of Gerard changes. He subdues his mana outburst and removes his hand from his sword’s hilt.

“It seems you are allowed to bring in your priests in. Follow me.”

Archbishop Nelson raises an eyebrow by the sudden change in demeanour from the man clad in black.

Did he get a message via telepathy?

The gates open wide allowing the archbishop and all of his 5 priests to enter. The scene of the village’s interior astounds them almost immediately. How could a village look like this? It looked more like a town than anything else. A town, if well maintained and allowed to grow would rival capital cities of kingdoms in a few years.

It is bustling, with people everywhere wearing peculiar clothes, clothes so exquisite, nobles would come running to buy them. The houses and buildings are all well designed and beautiful. There are a few carriages and wagons on the road, transporting various materials and people all over the place. And there is order, unlike a lot of small towns or villages where smiles were a rare commodity.

Witnessing this kind of scene would bring smiles to many.

However, something causes for all of the 6 visitors to halt their movements and glare in disbelief. Anger boiling under their breaths as they see not only humans but beastmen. Cat ears, wolf ears, and snake eyes. Such a blasphemy to the church.

Bloodthirst starts to radiate slowly from the priests who couldn’t control themselves. This prompts for Gerard to react fast, unsheathing his sword in a split second and going for the closest priest who is radiating their intent to kill.

The sword strikes the air at breakneck speeds only to halt a few centimetres from the priest in question’s neck, causing him to stumble and fall out of shear horror of death. The force of the attack lifts the dust from the dustless road, causing some of the nearby priests to fall flat on their buttocks, thudding the ground. Gerard didn’t stop the attack. No, a hand had stopped his sword. It is archbishop Nelson.

Blood slowly drips from archbishop Nelson’s hand, but he showed no pained expression. The murmurs of the bustling street became absolute silence, with people observing the commotion.

“Archbishop?!” shouts one of the priests, concern written all over his face.

Archbishop Nelson raises his other hand, which was behind his back, commanding for the priest to remain quiet. Gerard grits his teeth. Even though he didn’t use his full strength on that swing, it is still quite a shock that he was stopped so effortlessly. Guards had also already surrounded the group, weapons drawn.

“I apologize for my priests for showing their bloodlust at your people. I’m willing to offer my hand for their heads.”

Gerard is once again shocked. Can a selfless person like this truly exists?

“No, your Holiness! Your hands are too valuable.”

“How many times are you going to disrespect me?” says Nelson with a glare. He then extends his arm for Gerard to cut, revealing well-trained muscles.

Then, from the crowd of people gathered, a voice chimes in.

“That won’t be necessary. All of you, stand down,” says Abaddon accompanied by Sasha. “I don’t know if you are selfless or overconfident in your strength. Or do you simply believe that this soldier here doesn’t have the ability to cut off that arm of yours?”

Nelson looks at Abaddon and he could tell that the person before him is stronger than him. Is he strong enough to take down the Demon Lord though? No, unless there were five of him, then maybe.

“I can take you up on that offer archbishop, if you feel insulted by my soldier’s inadequacy to take that arm of yours.”

Archbishop Nelson quickly lowers his arm before clearing his throat. Seeing this, Gerard is infuriated. His sword ready to cut him down.

“You all may excuse us. If you’ll be so kind as to follow me this way… your Holiness.” Abaddon says, leading the way, as Sasha and the 6 outsiders follow. The guards disperse to their duties and as Gerard feels powerless, a voice enters his head.

No need to worry Gerard. He is only a little bit stronger than you. If you used your full strength, you would have taken his arm. His life on the other hand is questionable. Now, go train. Become strong enough to be able take his life.

A fire brews within Gerard as he walks proud to his duties.

***

The old village chief’s house was used as the temporary city hall. Allen had relocated the previous village chief within the confines of the castle. He built him a mansion there and believed he was better off there where safety was assured since the previous village chief had taken up the title of the President of the City Hall responsible for the administrative work happening within the village.

Today, the temporary city hall was empty since there hadn’t been much new residents coming in lately. Abaddon gestures for the 6 to take their respective sits on a square table as he takes his own too. Sasha decides to stand a few paces besides Abaddon, holding clusters of documents.

“Good day archbishop. My name is Abaddon. I believe my soldier injured your hand back there. Can I offer you a potion to heal your injury?” says Abaddon as a potion appears, simply out of thin air.

“Spatial magic!” murmurs Nelson under his breath but he couldn’t afford to act surprised. “That won’t be needed. As you can see…” archbishop Nelson reveals his hand showing no injury whatsoever, “… it’s already healed.”

“Mhm, indeed it has. It seems the rumours about the healing skills of archbishops is true after all. Let’s skip the insignificant stuff now shall we. Why have you visited my village?”

“Your village?”

Abaddon raises an eyebrow, “Why? Do you not believe me?”

“It’s not that at all. I was just under the impression that this village was within the Slavia kingdom. You speak of it as if it’s not.”

“That’s because it’s not. Lockwood village, unlike other villages is directly connected to the Silent Demon’s Forest. And if you were to help me remember, archbishop, whom does this forest belong to?”

Archbishop Nelson pauses for a second, “No one.”

“Exactly, meaning anyone is free to claim it.”

“And you are the one who has claimed it?”

Abaddon only smiles and does not respond. A sigh escapes from Nelson’s mouth as he speaks what he has in mind.

“I was sent here by the pope himself to investigate the disappearance of_” without even finishing his sentence, a response came.

“The Demon Lord doesn’t exist anymore. He was annihilated by my master.”

Archbishop Nelson hadn’t thought the man before him would be so direct with his answer. He thought that he would have probably stalled for time or something.

“Can I meet with your master?”

“My master can’t attend anyone at the moment.”

Archbishop starts to show his frustration. Even with the mention of the pope, the man before him wasn’t budging.

“I believe you might have misheard me. I was sent by the pope himself. Since your master and the pope are long time acquaintances, can’t she show the pope’s messenger some face?”

A look of confusion dawns on Abaddon’s face.

“Acquaintances? She?”

“Quit pretending. I know who your master is. So, please tell the Witch of Mist to show His Holiness the pope some face.”

Abaddon is even more confused. The Witch of Mist? Just like everyone, Abaddon knew very little about her. The only information he knows about her is the one his own master knows. That the Witch of Mist was the only person known who could perform superior level magic. That she disappeared from the world more than 200 years ago.

Allen even believed that the fact that the demons waged war back then was due to the disappearance of her. Meaning that if she had participated in that war, the Demon Lord wouldn’t have stood a chance, and the two heroes wouldn’t have been summoned.

A small chuckle escapes from Abaddon’s mouth. Then he turns serious and speaks.

“If that’s all you came for, then you’re free to leave.”

“Pardon?”

“I said you can leave,” says Abaddon as his stare makes everyone quiver.

Even archbishop Nelson knew that the man in front of him wouldn’t hesitate to cut them down if they didn’t leave.

He’s quite overconfident in his strength. As I am now, I’m nowhere strong enough to contend with him. I’ve also brought a small personnel so overpowering this village is also out of the question. My only hope is to leave and inform His Holiness immediately and await for further instructions.

“I understand. Thank you for your time.”

All six stand up from their sits and make to the door. Abaddon calls out to them, halting their movements.

“I almost forgot. It wasn’t only your priests that bared their bloodlust at my people now, was it archbishop? You have good control over your bloodlust, even my soldier didn’t notice. Since it’s like that, don’t you believe I should return it in kind to make us even?”

Archbishop Nelson freezes as he stares at Abaddon. Suddenly, all six of them are hit by a massive amount of bloodlust. The bloodlust is immense and strong. Like a force made by the impact of a meteorite colliding with the ground.

Archbishop Nelson is quick enough to cover himself and some of the priests with his holy shields. In an instant, the holy shields form cracks from the immense pressure that is strong enough to blow away even the door and the walls of the house.

The ground cracks and vibrates immensely, showing signs that the building might collapse. Luckily, Abaddon demonstrates mercy and retrieves his bloodlust, leaving the priests alongside their archbishops, knees down and gasping for air.

“I believe now we are even. However, it seems you failed to protect one of your priests. I hope you won’t desire a life from my side to even the score.”

Archbishop Nelson’s eyes widen as his head creaks from the tense muscles to look over his shoulder. One of his priests lies dead on the ground, his eyes showing only the whites and no pupils.

He suppresses his anger and stands up, slowly bowing to Abaddon before leaving with his priests, carrying their dead. They exit the gate and are supported by the guards and deacons outside, entering their carriages and leaving.

“Was it wise teacher to provoke them like that? He was the messenger of the pope after all,” asks Sasha nonchalantly.

“The Holyland is indeed powerful however, they can’t waste time with us now. Especially since the demons have waged war against humanity.”

“I see.”

“However, we should keep an ‘eye’ on them.” Abaddon extends his hand. His flesh stretches out as if it has a mind of its own. It spirals forming an eyeball with a pair of wings and detaches from it, removing a piece of flesh from his body. One of Abaddon’s many abilities, separation. The eyeball flaps its wings as it disappears into the sky, following its target.

***

Within the carriage of the archbishop.

Archbishop Nelson vomits a mouthful of blood as his complexion becomes pale.

“Your Holiness!”

“Archbishop”

“I-it was because of us. If you had only protected yourself, you wouldn’t have sustained such injuries,” all the priests cried out.

Archbishop Nelson didn’t mind them. Instead, he takes out his communication crystal ball, contacting the pope himself. An old man’s face, looking to be in his 60’s shows up.

“Nelson.”

“W-we failed your H-Holiness. I don’t believe it’s the Witch of Mist responsible for defeating the Demon Lord. I would like your decree. To eliminate this village and all who live here.”

The pope sighs, almost like he has anticipated this.

“I cannot do that, Nelson. Instead, I have another mission for you. You are to give my decree to the Slavia kingdom’s Royal family. They are to send additional troops to the border kingdom, Nonid, as support. The Empire’s troops are already enroute to there.”

“BUT YOUR HOLINESS, THIS VILLAGE HOUSES BEASTMEN. IT MUST BE PURGED OUT OF THE FACE OF THIS WORLD.” Nelson barks, eyes red with rage.

“Nelson,” says the pope with a voice that shakes Nelson’s very core. “Have you forgotten whom you are speaking too?”

“F-forgive me your Holiness.”

The pope sighs again, rubbing his temples with his fingers.

“The Slavia kingdom is planning an expedition to scour the forest. Disguise some of our knights as mercenaries and have them attack that village while the kingdom deals with the forest.”

“Our knights won’t be enough your Holiness. At least a Spectre will be needed.”

“All Spectres are still ‘asleep’. Except for one who should be returning from the frontlines. She should be passing by Slavia within a few weeks. I’ll contact her to be of assistance.”

“Thank you, Your Holiness.”

“Now, go pass my decree,” the communication crystal turns dark.

***

Abaddon has one of his eyes covered with his hand. He then removes it, opening his eye.

“A Spectre, huh? I wonder what that is?”