Lord of Disease (JP-GL) 145

145: Avalanche

I stood on the ramparts.

In my Lord of Disease regalia, amidst the falling snow, under the overcast sky.

“It is an honor to welcome the ‘Saint’ and the ‘Angel’ from the Holy Kingdom of Etrantal to the Listrea Demon Kingdom. The preparations for your welcome are complete.”

The voice-altering function of my mask and the amplification spell carried my voice clearly.

“I am the Lord of Disease. As a supreme commander of the Demon King’s army, I have been tasked by His Majesty the Demon King to welcome our esteemed guests from the Holy Kingdom. —And no, I have no intention of reprimanding you for your illegal entry.”

A deep, resonant voice, as if from the depths of hell. The voice of the Lord of Disease.

“But… what is this? I do not see our two esteemed guests.”

At my words, everyone’s gaze shifted to where the two had been.

All that remained was a suit of pure white armor, as if its owner had simply vanished.

There was no angel.

In the skin-crawling, terrifying silence, two white doves flew through the falling snow and landed on my outstretched hand and my shoulder.

“Well done, my guides.” And I praised them for their work.

“Where are the Saint and the Angel?!”

A voice, filled with—feigned—terror.

The voice of my disinformation unit carried well. A murmur spread, and I could feel the fear amplifying.

“—This is a surprise.”

My loyal doppelgangers, hidden throughout the crowd, were performing their duties flawlessly. From the initial cheer announcing our arrival to the recent outburst, every word had been theirs.

“It seems your faith is as shallow as your knowledge of the scriptures.”

So I, too, played my part, my tongue dripping with poison, and scoffed at the army before me.

“It is written that God will not reveal himself until the Day of Judgment.” My recent hobby was religious debate, and I had read the scriptures enough to say they were my favorite book. Along with the disinformation unit.

“Is it different for an angelic messenger? Is it acceptable for a village girl to be entrusted with the word of God? —Was it not to cultivate the ‘land given to you,’ to multiply, and to spread the faith, that your God expected of you?”

Throughout history, there had been numerous sightings of angels.

—Though it should be noted that outside of the Holy Kingdom, there was no mention of angels in any historical records.

I didn’t know if they were delusions created by the minds of the weak, illusion magic, or if it was simply important to record that ‘an angel had appeared.’

But at the very least, no angel, much less God, had ever pointed a sword at Listrea.

“Why did you believe? —Why did you believe something so convenient? When God has never once lent a hand to humanity, when he was ‘testing your faith.’”

The scriptures and the faith of the Holy Kingdom of Etrantal.

The scriptures were not without merit. If it weren’t for the doctrine that denied the existence of demons, I might have even been a believer.

It forbade strife between believers, it forbade theft, it forbade adultery. Those who believed in God and accumulated virtue would go to heaven. Those who did not, and spat on his name, would go to hell.

“Why now? Why did you believe that God would help you so conveniently?”

It was a religion that was incredibly convenient for the rulers. If there was a natural disaster, or if a bad policy led to a tragic outcome, there was always the get-out-of-jail-free card, the final word, ‘a trial from God,’ reserved for the devout.

Whoever wrote these scriptures… definitely didn’t believe in God.

“I am the Lord of Disease. —And to the foolish lambs who do not even truly understand what they believe in, the King of Disease and Poison shall grant a merciful death.”

Rebecca’s words echoed in my ears.

Ah… I pity the soldiers.

So, I felt a desire to end their suffering, to not let them suffer any longer.

The number of people I had killed directly could be counted on one hand. And today, it would approach one hundred thousand.

“In this white mountain, closest to heaven, you shall find eternal rest.”

The enemy army drew their swords and, with a roar, charged up the steep, snow-covered slope. Leading the charge was a knightly order in beautiful, polished white armor. That must have been the Order of Evangel.

I had a strange connection with white knights.

I raised my staff. And I chanted an ‘offensive spell.’

“[Avalanche].”

The blue gem on my staff glowed brightly.

A low rumble, an unsettling vibration, ran through the ground beneath my feet. Then, rumble, rumble, rumble… the same vibration repeated, almost simultaneously.

The shaking intensified, and I stumbled, using my staff to steady myself. It wasn’t just the shaking; the ‘chant’ had also drained a considerable amount of my mana.

This was the summit of the Lital Mountains.

While not a particularly high peak, it was a place of perpetual snow, a nest of avalanches.

The army below was engulfed by a massive avalanche.

A white wave, consuming all that was holy. Justice, order, swallowed by a white torrent.

An avalanche did not discriminate between the faithful and the faithless.

Nearly one hundred thousand soldiers were buried beneath the snow.

But there was no offensive spell that could wipe out an army of one hundred thousand in an instant.

This was just a trap.

A series of explosive traps, strategically placed, triggered simultaneously by my chant.

The shock, the vibration, and the heat of the explosions had disturbed the accumulated snow, causing an avalanche.

Even with pre-charged traps, triggering them directly required a small amount of mana. And to trigger so many at once required a considerable amount.

For the sake of image strategy, it was best for me, who was completely unsuited for magical combat on the battlefield, to be the mana battery.

It reminded me a little of when I had first arrived, and Liz had been worried.

Eight doves, the ones that had been perched on my shoulder and hand, now flew over the still-sliding avalanche.

“Well done. Regroup and fall back.”

The other two doves took to the air. If they hadn’t switched out the Saint, one of them must have been Clarion.

I looked down.

“…Stubborn, aren’t they?”

There were fewer than a hundred of them, but there were definitely figures moving.