Why Did You Summon Me?

Chapter 490 - This Is a Tad Bit Illogical

Chapter 490: This Is a Tad Bit Illogical

Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

The return trip to the Holy City was a good one for Father Weslie — no doubt fanned by how he had succeeded in securing a temporary truce from the Voidwalkers.

The chaplain’s optimism was contagious. Even Baiyi felt as if the rising tension between himself and the Church had been seemingly assuaged, though a part of him wondered if it was just an illusion.

Back in the Holy City, the newly appointed Pope and the Chief Judge sat motionlessly in a majestic office. Unlike the architecture of the room, the furnishings were almost too simplistic for the two highest authorities of the Church.

Granted, the most breathtaking feature of the office was not the furniture but the walls and the ceiling over their heads. Murals of religious themes, drawn in Earth’s Renaissance style, graced these oversized canvases.

At the very center of the ceiling was a god whose face was intentionally drawn a blur. He spread his arms wide, granting his blessings to the mortals below him. Then, flanking his side were thirteen Angels, all of them bearing the most exquisite features and beauty that no common mortals could ever hope to match nor emulate. They surrounded the god much like the stars loyally surrounding a lone moon.

On the other hand, the murals on the walls once again centered on the God’s Grace faith’s most famous holy figure. The scenes were the same kind found in an average church, with the only exception being how much more aesthetically-superb the ones in the office were.

The murals on the ceiling and the wall together formed the core promise of the faith: ‘God spreads His truth and love to the world, and as long as the followers live through His words as the Apostle had, they may Ascend to join God’s abode.’

Without a word, The Pope and the Chief Judge were drawn to the mural of the Apostle. Their sight was glued to the figure, but their eyes were unfocused and glazed, belying the fact that something else was on their minds.

Compared to their predecessors, these two newly-appointed were extremely young. They looked about in their thirties while their actual age was only somewhere around seventy — unfittingly young to be leading such a massive organization. The perks of youth were ample, though. They showed no sign of senility; even when they were only sitting quietly on their chairs, their posture exuded alertness while their eyes were piercing and unclouded by the stupor of age. It was clear from the way they carried themselves that they were not one to cower and compromise.

Unsurprisingly, these were the exact kind of leaders who would not bat an eyelash when declaring war against powerful people such as the Voidwalkers.

A few minutes passed. The heavy atmosphere finally broke by a series of rapping on the door. A pastor came in and, without offering any greeting, nodded quietly at the Pope that said, ‘The Church’s message had reached him.’

Then, just as wordlessly, the pastor left the room, shutting the door behind him with a click.

“Seems like everything worked out,” the Chief Judge grunted.

“So it did. Blinded by his own pride, The Devil is unaware of the pains of hubris,” the Pope added icily.

Apparently, the two most important members of the Church had been squandering their time doing nothing but waiting for news from a low-ranking, insignificant chaplain whom they despised. For someone who appeared so shrewd, it was surprising that the irony went over their heads.

“Can we truly prevail against all odds?” The Chief Judge asked sharply.

“By God’s will,” the Pope answered, confidence burning in his voice as he raised his head to gaze at the mural of God looking down over him. “These messengers of God... They wield a fragment of God’s power. They will punish the sinners with fire and brimstone. They will vanquish darkness with divine flames — whether they came from Hell or the Void, all sinners shall be reduced to ashes!”

“What about him ?” The Chief Judge snidely eyed the mural depicting Saint Joel traveling alone in the Abyss.

“Myths of yore no longer take roots in the hearts of our followers,” the Pope replied. “Of course, the time to purge him from our history has not come. But when we finally silence the Devil once and for all, it is us who will compose new myths for our followers to revere.”

The Chief Judge’s lips quivered into a steely, mirthless smile. “Your fealty to our dogma is not as resolute as you so desperately made it out to be,” he sneered.

“Do not mistake me. There is no one more loyal to our faith than I!” The young Pope protested in indignance, his fingers curling tightly around the Scripture necklace suspending around his neck. “Judgment must be mete to anyone who disobeys, betrays, or mocks the Holy Scripture, be it the Devil or the Apostle himself. That is my brand of devotion!”

“I supposed so,” the Chief Judge grouched and stood up from his seat, ready to leave.

The Pope stopped him. “Please hasten progress on your side. It’s delicate and complicated work to welcome the arrival of an actual Angel, and it can only succeed if we work together,” he reminded.

“We’ve already found our Elect. The rest is up to you,” the Chief Judge answered without turning his head and left the office.

The Pope watched him go. Then, he rose from his own seat and strolled to the window, peering outside to watch the bustling progress of unknown construction. He could see the construction beams and other similar structures being erected as the devotees — workers and farmers by profession — were hard at work, weaving in and out of the site like worker ants. As a testament of their faith, these honest folks offered their energy and sweat to build a place worthy of receiving an Angel.

The summoning of any Angel demanded a laborious preparation, let alone the strongest ones the Church would need to stand against those wicked Voidwalkers. The undertaking was so arduous that even a massive organization boasting no shortage of resources and manpower would require three months or more to complete it, and it had already begun disrupting the serenity that had long defined Canningham.

These sacrifices weighed on the young Pope. He knew that he could not afford to fail, but he doubted that there were rooms for failures to begin with. There was nothing in this universe that could possibly overcome God’s Angels, and when they deliver divine retribution to those demons, everything would be worth it.

In contrast, Baiyi showed not a sliver of concern.

Even as time crouched closer to the date of the war, he never did anything resembling war preparations at all. He just never seemed to see the Church as a threat.

The students’ exams went on without any major obstruction. The Trial of Parazonium continued, and as the days passed and the students had gotten accustomed to the presence of the Mutated Monsters, they started performing better and better. Even the team with the clueless Northern Egghead had begun finding their stride; they even started using dumb Jawflower X as bait for the most difficult beasts, so that they could get what they want without expending too much effort.

At this moment, the three of them were repelling an earthbound winged-dragon.

This species boasted the appearance and features of a skyborne dragon, complete with wings and the ability to fly, yet they were so used to staying on the ground that they had never taken off into the air to seize aerial advantages. In fact, they had never even exhaled flame breaths as any self-respecting dragon ought to do.

It was as if their existence was to be hunting fodders for the students.

This particular earth dragon, too, displayed the same fine qualities its species was infamous for. It had the same look as a Grim Dragon, with sleek black scales armored all over its body and a disproportionately large pair of horns grown out of its head as if it was wearing a mega-sized bow. Yet again, despite its ability to fly, this earth dragon was contented to futilely attack Team Egghead with only its claws and tail.

It might be considered a challenge for hunters that could only perform fixed attacks via video game controllers; ¹ but to three fighting adepts who had the flexibility and freedom to pull off whatever moves they wanted, this large, dumb earth dragon was a piece of cake.

The earth dragon growled and howled in a fury fueled by agony, but no matter what it did, it simply could not swat the three students away. The trios nimbly sidestepped or leaped out of its clumsy attacks before returning their own fierce ripostes.

The earth dragon’s anguished wails and increasingly sluggish movements implied that it had suffered a great many injuries, but there was not a single bruise visible on the dragon’s body at all. Its scales were still as glossy and fabulous as ever, and no amount of hacking from the students’ swords or dual-wielding axes could carve out a single dent.

“It’s going down soon! Step aside, guys. Let it taste my coup de grâce!” Hunky Joe shrieked and fished out three pink bottles from his storage pouch and hung them around his neck. Then, crossing his arms before his chest, he stacked his sword onto his shield so that the blade and the shield now merged into a dual-bladed ax.

With this weird weapon in his hand, he swung and slammed the dragon with the force of a mountain. There was a bright flash, and the earth dragon finally let out a groan before its enormous body plopped down on the ground dramatically.

Despite being clearly dead from injuries, there was still not a scar on its body... for some reason.

“Whoaaa! Did that gigantic salamander just die that easily?” Short Morad hollered, still riding high on adrenaline. “I was barely getting started! And it had looked so aggressive...”

“Ha! Pretty good at giving a nasty leer, but that’s about it. Honestly, it’s one of the weakest monsters in this whole place,” Joe said calmly as he approached the corpse. Then, from his waist, he unsheathed a small dagger and started to cut off its body to find something useful from something so useless.

“This is a rare dragon, isn’t it? Th’ book says because its den is hidden close tae other ferocioos monsters’ nests, it’s hard tae encoonter it. I certainly dinnae expect our luck,” Bald Wu’ke remarked. It was his first actual battle since the Trial had begun, and yet, the fight was, frankly, too underwhelming. “Mayhap it is more o’ a challenge tae the untrained, but it was jist a very large, mobile targit practice for me.”

The students’ disappointment was not surprising. They were, after all, fighters with an arsenal of combat chi powers, not some random hunters whose only way of avoiding a monster’s attacks was to roll around ¹ .

“Good to hear that you know about its rarity, but could you guys come over and help me carve out some meat instead? Let’s get this over with before that stinking Jawflower X comes around, you know,” Joe reminded. “Anyway, I have never tasted this thing before, so I’m kinda excited.”

“Too bad it’s not related to our missions,” Morad remarked regrettably as he hurried over to where Joe was and started carving.

“Bah, who would make a mission out of this weak, oversized lizard? I think its eggs might be the objective of one of our missions though...”

“Its eggs?” Wu’ke echoed as he stuck his dagger into the earth dragon’s flesh.

“Yea. Sell them to the nobles. They probably hatch it to become their personal ride or just use them for those rich people’s shows.”

“There’s so... much... meat! We can’t possibly eat it all,” Morad moaned. “What should we do with the rest of this corpse, man?”

“Leave it here. What else can we do?”

It was illogical that a monster that had been hacked, smacked, and pierced multiple times for over half an hour still bore no outward scars and bruises, but at least this earth dragon still had its body remained after the students carved out some of its meat. The illogical ridiculousness could have been worse; its corpse could have gradually vanished into thin air as if the entire thing had just evaporated. ¹