Chapter 70: Holy Flame
The raging fire consumed the building as dark smoke from the explosion billowed into the sky. Wade dodged the fireball hurled by the imp and stepped forward, driving the glowing Radiance straight into the creature’s chest. Where the blade met the Flame Imp’s body, a sizzling sound erupted as scorching white vapor rose from the wound.
The imp’s face twisted in agony, its piercing shrieks grating against the ears. This demon-slaying sword, jointly forged by the church and dwarf masters, was the natural bane of demons. Its blade functioned like high-grade holy water – when facing creatures saturated with dark energy like demons or undead, it became a purifying weapon capable of vanquishing foes in a single strike.
Wade forcefully twisted the hilt, causing Radiance to sear through the imp’s body, turning the wound into blackened charcoal. The creature writhed in torment, but the purifying power of Radiance left it powerless to resist. As Wade finished off the Flame Imp before him, its demonic body crumbled into blackened powder that cascaded from the wounds.
Just as Wade had suspected, the Icelanders had indeed allied themselves with demons. On the morning of the eighth day, while conversing with Old York in the study, Wade had written this very conclusion on paper. He had asked the gnome: “Under what specific circumstances does Radiance emit light and vibrations?”
The gnome had shown him a secret tome on church sigils: “These are divine symbols that detect demons. Radiance can sense the presence of demonic entities.” The day before, Wade had learned about the origins of this radiant-class longsword, but he wanted more detailed information about how it would react in actual combat situations.
At that time, he had just finished hearing Old York’s account about Quasimodo, yet one question continued to trouble him. Radiance had never shown any unusual reactions while in his possession. He was a skeleton, Mia was a ghost, yet the sword remained indifferent to them. He had assumed the blade wasn’t forged to combat undead, but in Bronte Village, Radiance had emitted a faint hum – contradicting his initial understanding.
He hadn’t paid it much mind at first, but the gnome had explained the previous day that the permanent sigils on the blade could detect demonic presence, glowing and vibrating to alert its wielder. Mention of demons made him recall the underwater explosion. That Flame Imp which had suddenly appeared in the reservoir using Sven’s corpse – the low-tier demon’s appearance couldn’t have been coincidental. It must have had some connection with Sven from Iceland to manifest there.
This train of thought led him to the melting tributary of the Prague River, forming a hypothesis in his mind. If the Icelanders were harnessing demonic power, then melting the icy sea and frozen rivers wouldn’t be difficult at all. Most likely, demons were constantly using intense heat beneath the river’s surface to melt the ice and maintain water flow. If they could accept demons into their ranks, what was recruiting a necromancer in comparison?
Demons were the sworn enemies of true gods. The scale of this hidden evil was so vast that Wade wanted nothing to do with it, hoping to avoid the confrontation entirely. Yet often, the things we fear most are precisely what come to pass.
There were many possible reasons why that Flame Imp appeared outside the sagebrush workshop – perhaps it came seeking the necromancer, or maybe it was drawn by Radiance’s holy aura. Regardless, its encounter with Wade and Lucas made battle inevitable.
Concealment was no longer possible after the Flame Imp’s fireball spell exploded behind the Oak Tavern. The stone wall shattered as fierce flames erupted, the blast echoing throughout Alvado – impossible for Casimodo Vic to miss. The necromancer’s servants, those undead hellhounds with steel muzzles, were already approaching, drawn by the tremendous noise. Dark night owls circling in the moonlight perched on the alley’s rooftops, their eerily pure black avian eyes fixed unblinkingly on the explosion’s epicenter.
Dozens of avian eyes watched Wade and Lucas from every angle without blind spots. Wade had already given the workshop key to Lucas. The labyrinthine streets of Alvado were unfamiliar terrain for the outsider. Tired of navigating those winding alleys, he raised his sword to block the hellhounds’ path.
Standing behind Wade, Lucas nearly fell from the explosion’s impact. Staring dumbfounded at Wade’s back, he saw the knight raise his right hand with a thumbs-up gesture. The key to the workshop was already in his possession – he knew exactly what he should do now, yet his feet refused to move.
Why was he so useless?
Why could he only hide behind this noble knight?
The night owls spread their wings again, swirling through the air until their dark vortex blotted out the sky. Dozens of undead hellhounds formed ranks, emitting low growls. Like moths to flame, the owls suddenly dove at the two men in suicidal attacks. Remembering Old York’s teachings, Lucas hastily drank the antidote.
The owls exploded midair, spraying rotten flesh and blood as black feathers snowed down. They didn’t actually detonate near Lucas and Wade. Instead, Lucas saw orange flames flowing like a dancer’s silken ribbons, gathering around the glowing sword in Wade’s hand.
The blade erupted with even more dazzling radiance as the red flames turned pure white like the sword’s light. White fire tongues twisted outward, forming a larger vortex that repelled the attacking owls. This holy flame filled Lucas with warmth.
Suddenly Wade turned and pushed him – Lucas understood he had to run now. No matter how much he wanted to stand by the knight’s side, he had to run with all his might. Because he carried hope with him now.
“Forgive me.”
Clutching the key tightly, Lucas sprinted toward the alchemy workshop behind them, gritting his teeth until his hands turned purple. Some hellhounds and owls tried pursuing him, but the pure white holy flames scorched the path ahead.
The wandering knight stood alone blocking the alley’s entrance, sword in hand. His silent stance conveyed a clear message:
—None shall pass.
As the hellhounds lunged at him, he swung Radiance in a wide arc, holy flame-enhanced steel carving a great semicircle. The wave of fire splashed over the undead beasts – the demon-slaying sword’s power proved far more effective than mere slashes. Where the sacred flames touched the hellhounds, it was as if they’d been doused in holy water, their bodies igniting as their skin rapidly carbonized.
This was Wade’s first time combining Starfire with Radiance’s supernatural properties, and the results exceeded expectations. Using Starfire, he could dissolve holy power into the flames. This wasn’t simple addition – both Radiance’s lethal range and destructive power multiplied exponentially.
This sword had been a bishop’s gift to a saintess, its power embodying the combined efforts of the bishop and dwarf masters. No ordinary radiant-class weapon could compare.
Very well.
Since they’d been discovered, there was no need to hide anymore.
After returning to the snowfields, Wade hadn’t truly tested the limits of his power. The fates of those Tanians were probably beyond his influence now, but he could still use that necromancer to test his blade’s mettle.
The wails from the square reached his ears – countless tormented souls crying out from that mountain of corpses. Mournful, bitter lamentations. May the dead rest in peace, free from suffering at last.