I’m a Holy Knight, but I Contracted with an Evil God - Chapter 41

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 41.
A blinding white flash tore through the ceiling and poured down like an explosion, violently ripping open the Underground Cavern’s dense darkness and devastating the subterranean installations.
The man who emerged from the swirling dust swept his gaze across the surroundings with obvious displeasure, then issued orders to the Main Force of knights following behind him.
The knights pouring in moved with perfect coordination according to his commands, swiftly dispersing to seize control of the space.
They were the Main Force of the Religious Order—disciplined and trained to a level utterly different from common rabble.
Nearly a hundred knights formed their ranks in an instant and charged forward, systematically overwhelming the Patrol Soldiers surrounding Tristan and Leon.
Before their onslaught, grinding together like massive gears, dozens of soldiers fell without managing a proper counterattack, scattering blood as they crumpled.
And beneath all that chaos, spreading like background music, a beautiful aria.
Aaaaaaah—.
The aria, tinged with that unique resonance peculiar to an adolescent voice, filled the entire Underground Cavern.
Though it was plainly a single voice, perhaps due to the place itself—
—that voice, endlessly reflecting within the confined space, repeated countless melodies and created a solemn harmony.
The entire cavern seemed to become one vast instrument, resonating with tremendous power.
Light pours forth.
Aaaaaaah—.
In that same moment, the large and small abrasions covering Tristan and Leon’s bodies began visibly mending.
In Tristan’s case especially, the pain that had been growing unbearably sharp began to ease, and within moments improved to the point where painkillers were no longer necessary.
“……The Singing Priest Division?”
Tristan muttered in disbelief, his eyes fixing on the source of the voice.
Standing one pace behind the man was someone roughly Leon’s age.
Though tall and lanky, the boy wore the distinctive vestments of the Singing Priest Division.
“What were you thinking, destroying everything outright like that, Sion!”
Tristan protested sharply at Sion Arcadius, the man directing the Main Force, but Sion merely replied with a bewildered expression.
“Surely both of you are Elite Knights? I saw no reason to think you’d be crushed to death by mere aftershock from such an attack.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about!”
Tristan raised his still-bleeding sword and pointed it toward a corner of the cavern.
In that direction lay the prison where Leon had discovered the abducted people being held.
By sheer fortune, no dangerous rockfall had occurred, but had the angle of the fractures shifted just slightly, all those people might have been buried alive.
“This whole operation started because of the missing persons in the first place! Didn’t you think there’d be kidnapped people at the stronghold itself?”
His voice burned with heat and intensity, yet every word was undeniably correct.
Still, Sion exhaled a weary sigh.
“That, too, is fate. If one possesses faith in the Divine, such trivial sacrifices are inevitable.”
Because Sion’s words seemed to come from genuine conviction without a shred of doubt, Leon found he could not shake the revulsion rising within him.
Sion was exactly the type Leon despised most.
‘This one’s a different breed of crazy altogether.’
【I concur. Misguided faith often leads to destruction, yet those who hold it rarely perceive their own ruin.】
More than half of those who had tormented Leon before the Regression were like Sion standing before him now.
They would forge expectations carelessly, then despair and ultimately mock—such was their nature. And some, gripped by such blind conviction, whispered that an indelible sin had stained Leon’s very soul, one for which Arseriel herself had personally meted out punishment.
This was so despite the High Priest Raphthio, who received Oracle and stood nearest to Arseriel’s will, having personally sheltered Leon.
Behind them, Patrol Soldiers fell without so much as a proper cry beneath the blades of the Main Force knights, yet Sion’s gaze as he surveyed the spectacle showed no sign of disturbance whatsoever.
The type who hid behind misguided faith, dismissing others’ suffering as the will of the divine.
Apparently Tristan harbored a similar view, for his voice grew notably harsher.
“That hopeless fanatic bastard.”
Sion must have heard Tristan’s dissatisfied mutter clearly, yet he showed no sign of concern whatsoever.
Rather, deliberately ignoring Tristan’s protest, he turned to the boy standing behind him with a faintly irritated expression.
“Ephricio. Check on both of them. Especially—Sir Barca appears to be in poor condition.”
As he spoke, directing his gaze toward Tristan, something like contempt flickered in the man’s eyes.
Tristan felt it keenly, and his voice rose with even greater heat.
“That bastard—!”
Even at Tristan’s savage cry, Sion didn’t bat an eye.
The moment Sion’s instruction fell, the boy Ephricio sprang forward toward Leon and Tristan, clearly reading the room.
He opened his mouth to speak, unable to hide his pleasure at seeing them.
“Oh, hey. You’re, you’re okay? Any, any injuries?”
The boy remained as he was.
While his face bore some wear from the dust storm, he looked far better than Leon, who had come straight from the Religious Order Stronghold and was now covered in filth and blood.
Leon found himself smiling without quite meaning to and nodded.
“I’m fine. Check on Sir Barca instead.”
At the easy familiarity of their exchange, Tristan’s expression shifted to one of surprise as his gaze flickered between them.
Clutching his side as old pain rushed back, he asked,
“You two know each other?”
“Yes. We’re in the same cohort.”
“The same cohort? But you were selected as an Elite Knight candidate the moment you entered the order, weren’t you?”
“Even if it was just for a day, we’re still cohort-mates.”
Leon said this with a shameless grin, scrunching up the bridge of his nose, and Ephricio’s already flushed face deepened to an even brighter crimson.
Well, well.
Tristan clicked his tongue in disbelief and interjected, then turned to Ephricio.
“I think I’ve cracked a rib. Take a look, will you?”
“Pardon? Yes… a, a rib?”
“That’s right. Here.”
Tristan removed the hand cradling his flank and exposed the wound. Ephricio’s expression turned grave as he examined the injury.
Then he carefully extended his hand toward the wound site and added,
“All right, one moment… I’ll just place my hand here, if I may.”
The moment Tristan nodded, a Sacred Song flowed from Ephricio’s lips.
Though low and quiet in tone, his voice struck clearly into the ears of Tristan and Leon, who stood so close.
What flows is not tears, but grace—
What gathers is not blood, but thy mercies—
Cast off the darkness that clouds the heart, as dawn breaks after the deepest night—
Arseriel, guide us toward the light—
The pleasant melody lasted only a moment, and Ephricio’s examination of Tristan’s wound was over in a heartbeat.
Yet the result was astonishing.
“…It’s completely healed?”
Tristan ran his fingers over the area where his rib had been, and let out a stunned murmur as the pain vanished in an instant.
He turned to Ephricio, who smiled awkwardly back at him, and asked,
“What’s your rank? With skill like this, I should know your face.”
“I’m a, a trainee member.”
“You’re a trainee?”
“He’s scheduled for full membership next month. So—how’s the Singing Priest Division’s famous genius performing?”
At Tristan’s incredulous reaction, Sion finally spoke up from beside him.
A famous genius.
Only then did Tristan’s face show recognition as he nodded.
“Ah. So you’re that notorious newcomer from the Singing Priest Division? The order was in an uproar around the same time that one arrived. I remember now.”
“Newcomer… though, well, it’s been a bit of time since then…”
“New members of the Singing Priest Division don’t appear every year, do they? If there hasn’t been one since you, I wouldn’t be far off the mark.”
It was surprising that Tristan knew the internal affairs of another division, but his observation was accurate nonetheless.
Ephricio himself was the first new member of the Singing Priest Division in years.
“Do geniuses recognize each other by instinct, then?”
“T-th-that’s not at all… it isn’t so.”
Ephricio protested in flustered denial at Tristan’s teasing remark, but the mood lightened considerably as a result.
However, just as the Main Force knights were nearly finished clearing the lower levels, it was Sion again who suddenly tensed the atmosphere.
“So. What’s the situation?”
“Situation? You smashed everything to pieces.”
Tristan shot back irritably.
He was right.
The moment Sion led the Main Force through the sealed iron door, a massive explosion erupted and the surrounding structures burst apart.
Most of the glass bottles adorning the walls shattered, and the blood-slicked channels on the floor were half-destroyed, their form lost.
Yet Sion’s expression remained perfectly composed.
“How regrettable. I anticipated elaborate defenses given this was their headquarters, but it appears I overestimated them.”
“Which is precisely why I suggested you exercise restraint from the start…”
Tristan finally swallowed a stunned sigh and let his words trail off.
With an expression as though he were dealing with an uncontrollable wall, Tristan simply gave up and redirected the conversation instead.
“No, I mean—even accounting for your wide attack radius, I didn’t think you had this kind of destructive force?”
“That credit belongs largely to Ephricio.”
For the first time since his arrival, Sion offered a positive response, gesturing toward Ephricio.
As Ephricio lowered his head in embarrassment, Sion’s explanation followed as though on cue.
“He is remarkably versatile. Moreover, each ability is highly efficient and has broad applications. His direct healing is exceptional, but his auxiliary effects for power amplification are particularly outstanding.”
“His healing ability alone was considerable—and amplification too?”
“It is quite remarkable.”
Tristan shot back sardonically at Sion’s praise, delivered like a father boasting of his son.
“So that’s why you demolished the entire scene?”
“All escape routes were confirmed before we entered. The rear guard is standing by in the upper levels.”
“Ah, so that’s why you’re being so smug about this?”
It was clear these two had never gotten along particularly well.
With Sion charging in and demolishing the entrance on a whim, there was no way Tristan’s mood would improve.
Sure enough, Tristan rounded on Sion as though he’d been waiting for the chance.
“What about Escape Magic countermeasures? You said these bastards used Spatial Teleportation to cover long distances from the Red Corridor. This place looks like a much larger stronghold—what guarantees there’s nothing similar here?”
“I’m hardly a novice, sir. We wouldn’t have advanced without basic precautions in place. Two High Priests are standing by outside. Besides, it appears the situation is largely under control.”
After shooting Tristan a contemptuous look, Sion jerked his chin, and when Leon followed his gaze, he saw that dozens of the doll-like Patrol Soldiers had been annihilated by the main force of the Religious Order.
“Ephricio, take the healing priests and rescue whoever’s trapped here, then head back to the surface. Barca and Leon—each of you command a squad and investigate the corridors with us.”
“Since when do you get to bark orders?”
“It’s a proposal, not an order. Though judging by how you’re thrashing about like a beast, your wounds seem to have healed completely.”
Persistent irritation, met with persistent dismissal.
Leon formed a well-founded theory that this was how the two usually conversed.
As Leon felt the journey back to the Religious Order Stronghold growing all the more tiresome, Ecrizae’s whisper brushed against his ear.
【This way.】
『This way? Is there something?』
【Something very familiar. Hurry. No point letting them steal the prize.】
A strange premonition stirred in him.
Ignoring the bickering pair, Leon led a single squad in the direction Ecrizae indicated, following through on Sion’s “proposal.”
As Leon, the youngest, moved off without hesitation to his task, Tristan and Sion—still squabbling—exchanged slightly awkward glances before each took command of their own squad and dispersed.
『What’s down this way?』
【A Fragment. I’m certain of it.】
『One of your Fragments?』
【Yes. One far larger than any we’ve encountered before.】
At Ecrizae’s declaration, Leon’s grip tightened around the sword hilt.
Leon’s own senses detected nothing, but if Ecrizae herself was certain, then it must be true.
A Fragment was here.
And one large enough to make Ecrizae urge him forward.
Continued in next chapter ▶
A Holy Knight who made a pact with a Demon God
Author
Ramdut
Publisher
Kim Seok-hwan, Choi Se-ra
Published by
Grae Publishing
Inquiries
[email protected]
Publication date
March 27, 2026
UCI
G720:N+A327-20260227066
※ This e-book is protected under copyright law. Unauthorized reproduction and distribution are prohibited, and violations may result in both criminal and civil liability.
※ Pentagram welcomes your precious manuscripts.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————