So I'm a Dragon, So What? - Game System [92]

Because of this, Elliot had no fondness for the old man. But in their current situation, they shared a common enemy. For now, they could set aside their differences and work together.

As Elliot gently landed, carrying the elven girl in his arms, Pontiff Dustin’s face remained a mask of benevolent calm. 

To any outsider, he was just a kindly old man. Only Elliot knew that the list of this man’s wicked deeds was only slightly shorter than those of Potimas and the Demon Lord.

Come to think of it, Elliot mused, out of the four major powers in this world, aside from the slacker Gyuriedistodiez, are any of them actually good people?

Dustin watched as Elliot carefully set Emilia down. He recognized her instantly. This was the Saintess the elves were searching for. 

The Divine Religion's requirements for their Saintess's purity were far stricter than those of the Word of God. 

Yet, this Saintess was traveling so closely with a man… no wonder those heretics were acting so fanatically! 

Forget a heretical cult; if the Word of God discovered their Saintess being carried in a man’s arms, that man would be facing execution by dismemberment, at the very least. But, the heretics' Saintess was none of their concern.

"So, it's the Pontiff," Elliot said, his tone even, offering a slight nod. He was not subservient, nor was he arrogant. If a human failed to kneel before the Pontiff, it would be considered a grave sin. 

But Elliot was an Earth Dragon. Forget the Pontiff; even Gyuriedistodiez couldn't command him.

The Pontiff, however, seemed to have no issue with Elliot's lack of deference. He simply inclined his head in return. "The elves have caused you some trouble, Lord Elliot."

Though the Pontiff's smile was warm and friendly, Elliot’s eyebrow twitched at his words. It was clear. 

The day he fought Potimas, the Pontiff’s people had been watching everything. As for how the Pontiff knew his name, it could have been through the Demon Lord, or some other means. In any case, he was making it plain that the Word of God was keeping a close eye on them.

Fine. It was better this way. To lay all the cards on the table was the most important step in any collaboration. 

And for the Pontiff of the Word of God to come and meet him personally, he must have realized just how much trouble the Divine Religion was causing. 

He had likely come in a hurry and hadn't brought many of his own men, forcing him to rely on their group's strength.

"Though I would love to have a long talk with you, Lord Elliot, I'm afraid we don't have the time," the Pontiff said, getting straight to the point. 

"The Divine Religion's [Crimson Rite] domain is continuously draining the life from the nearby towns. If we don't deal with it soon, it will be too late." He took a deep breath. 

"To my shame, I was only able to bring three hundred of my Deathguards and a dozen or so mages. But the Divine Religion has dispatched several of their Cardinals and Bishops. They are incredibly strong, and with the aid of their domain, they are nearly immortal. My forces won't last long."

"So…" The Pontiff's expression grew serious. "I must ask for your help to break this domain."

"A partnership is out of the question," Elliot replied, shaking his head.

"Why is that?" the Pontiff asked, his tone still perfectly calm.

"That's not what I mean," Elliot clarified. "I mean… they're already here."

As the words left his mouth, dozens of figures in the robes of the Divine Religion materialized in the clearing around them. 

A ferocious energy burned around each of them, a magical power approaching the level of [Magic Supremacy]. 

They looked like men doused in gasoline and set alight, their strength flaring to an unnatural peak.

They had used a dark art, a forbidden magic that burned their own life force for power. It was an anger-based skill known as [Berserk].

Elliot recognized this magic. He’d seen its effects back in the Elroe Labyrinth. When activated, the user’s health would continuously drain in exchange for a massive boost to their stats. 

It turned them into berserkers, their minds consumed by a singular, burning rage until they were nothing more than tireless killing machines.

It was similar to the [Ruler of Wrath] ability, but the power boost was nowhere near as extreme. Still, to gain such a huge temporary advantage was an incredible feat. It was as if every one of them had activated a version of Emilia’s [Witch of Envy] all at once.

And with the [Crimson Rite] domain constantly feeding them stolen life force, they didn't have to worry about their health hitting zero. They were effectively immortal… for now. 

The moment the domain was removed, their life force would plummet like a stone, and they would all die instantly. It was clear these heretics were putting everything on the line.

Seeing them approach, the Pontiff raised a hand. His three hundred Deathguards, without a moment's hesitation, activated their own skill: [Fury]. 

They ripped off their upper garments, and an immense power surged through their bodies, making it seem as though they were wreathed in invisible flames.

It was another anger-based skill, with a similar effect. The key difference was that [Fury] also came with a massive boost to their regeneration, enhancing their base health recovery. 

In simple terms, they were also burning their own lives for power, matching the heretics blow for blow. 

But [Fury] was even more potent, and by the principle of equivalent exchange, its duration was much shorter than the heretics’ [Berserk].

In the next instant, the heretics and the Pontiff’s Deathguards crashed into each other. A storm of magical energy erupted from both sides. 

In the chaotic melee, it was impossible to tell who was a heretic and who was a follower of the Word of God. They were all just madmen, burning their lives away in a frenzy of battle.

Elliot couldn't help but draw in a sharp breath. He hadn't expected Pontiff Dustin to be so decisive, ordering all of his elite guards to use a suicide skill. 

He knew that activating either [Fury] or [Berserk] was a death sentence. Everyone fighting here was doing so with the resolve to die.

Damn. To fight the darkness, you had to become the darkness yourself. A perfect example of fighting fire with fire.