So I'm a Dragon, So What? - Game System [90]

A torrent of brilliant, crimson fire instantly lit up the sky.

Spirit Soother was the only skill Elliot had enhanced with a Divine Spark Point. Its power was enough to slay gods and immortals. 

The pillar of fire shot into the heavens, tearing through the domains and becoming visible to everyone for miles around. 

The world-ending power washed over the landscape, forcing everyone, everywhere, to turn their gaze in the same direction. 

Even the distant human towns noticed the pillar of fire that seemed to touch the firmament.

"Fireworks?" The lord of a nearby town, hearing his subordinate's report, stood up, his gaze fixed on the mushroom cloud blooming in the sky after the explosion.

"No," a middle-aged man in a white steeple hat said, standing beside the lord. His presence was obscured by a dark, smoky aura, his true face hidden. 

This man was a mystery; even the lord didn't know his name. He wasn't one of the lord's men; he was a hound of the Word of God religion. 

The man's name was Joseph, but his name was unimportant. What was important was that his son was a reincarnator.

In a tragic incident, the elves had used despicable means to kidnap his son and slaughter his family, destroying everything he held dear. 

The grief was indescribable. Since then, he had lived under a new name, serving Pontiff Dustin, investigating the source of numerous child kidnappings. 

The truth, he felt, was not far off...

"Heretics?" The lord's face grew grim.

While the Goddess Religion and the Word of God were bitter rivals, their constant wars mostly centered around their own conflicts. 

Neither had ever officially declared the other a heresy. But in this world, there was a third major religion: the Divine Religion, worshipped by the elves. 

No matter how much the two human faiths tried to destroy each other, they shared one common belief: the Divine Religion was a cult of heretics! 

Religious exclusivity was a given, but no religion was as fanatical, as beyond reason, as the Divine Religion. 

To achieve their goals, they would stop at nothing.

A nervous swallow was audible in the quiet room. 

The lord wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. He had no idea those madmen were causing trouble in his domain. 

His small territory couldn't handle gods descending to earth. He could only pray these heretics finished their business quickly and left.

"This is a grave matter. It has already been reported to the Pontiff," Joseph said calmly from within his dark aura.

"Will... will the Pontiff send men?"

"No. It won't be necessary," Joseph waved his hand dismissively. "While these heretics are strong, the opponent they are facing is not weak either."

"That spell just now... I'm certain it wasn't cast by the heretics. Such a powerful and destructive fire spell, yet it didn't start a forest fire. This means the caster's control over their magic is incredibly precise. Perhaps they can hold their own against the heretics."

"As for you," Joseph continued, "maintain security in the city. Impose a curfew, control the gates, and prevent any riots. The Church will handle the rest."

The reason Joseph was so sure the spell wasn't cast by the heretics was because, despite its immense destructive power, it possessed an unexpectedly calming effect. 

Simply put, it was a spell that killed without causing pain, one that could soothe the souls of the departed.

"A skill like that… a heretic who holds no reverence for life could never cast such a spell."

The lord hesitated. "This… actually, I bear some responsibility. Perhaps I should send the city's soldiers to help them. It might not be much, but—"

"It would be useless," the man in the dark mist interrupted, shaking his head. "The greatest help you can offer is to remain in your city and keep it secure."

He was telling the truth. In a battle of this magnitude, ordinary soldiers were just numbers on a casualty list. 

Joseph knew from the Pontiff’s intelligence that the Divine Religion had appeared for one reason: their Saintess. 

A Saintess was a figure of immense importance to any faith. She was a symbol, an icon of belief.

Or, more cynically, an excuse.

Wherever the Saintess pointed her sword, her followers would fearlessly charge, flattening any city and slaughtering every living being in their path. 

The Word of God had its own Saintess, of course. 

Joseph knew she was one of the reincarnators, a figure of extraordinary significance, and she was protected by some of humanity’s strongest warriors, day and night. 

So, he could understand the Divine Religion's desperate fanaticism.

Their city had gotten lucky. If the Divine Religion's Saintess had appeared here, Joseph had no doubt this entire city would already be a smoking ruin.

The cultists would have slaughtered everyone as a grand sacrifice to welcome her. Fortunately, the battle was happening in the countryside, a dozen or so miles away.

High above, a blood-red domain had spread out, blanketing the land for miles. It was the elves' [Crimson Rite] domain. Its effect was to drain the life force of every living thing within it—except for elves. 

The elves, in turn, would be infused with this stolen life force, becoming effectively immortal. 

While the life-draining effect was minimal on powerful individuals, ordinary people, animals, even the trees and plants, would wither and die if they remained within it for too long.

It was a notoriously evil and forbidden art. All the major powers, including the Word of God, had explicitly banned its use. 

Yet the elves still deployed it without a second thought. The effect wasn't uniform; creatures at the domain's center would be drained until they were nothing but husks. 

Those on the periphery would only lose a fraction of their life force, so the immediate impact on the nearby city wasn't catastrophic.

The problem was, once everything at the center was dead, the domain would shift its focus. When that happened, not a single living soul in the city would be left. That was what truly worried Joseph.

But the Pontiff… the Pontiff will surely do everything in his power to protect the people of this city! Joseph thought, his faith unwavering.

He had no way of knowing that Pontiff Dustin, like the elves, was a powerhouse who also viewed human lives as little more than blades of grass.