The Life of a Wise Cult Leader - Chapter 185

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 185

Leaving behind those engaged in fierce battle with the angel, Professor Ellara took Gretchin and the Savior by the hands and led them away.

In the broken space and vast grassland, only the altar remained intact.

Professor Ellara precariously stepped on the debris and waved her hands frantically at Gretchin, gesturing for him to follow. Then she stumbled and fell forward.

The professor lay prone, trying to find her fallen glasses, and only regained her sight after Gretchin picked them up and handed them to her.

While the two were down, spells whizzed over their heads, attempting to strike the angel.

The angel lightly swung its hand to deflect the magic. The deflected spells embedded in the ground like shells, sending dirt flying in all directions.

Professor Ellara roughly placed her broken glasses on her face and eagerly descended despite the bleeding. The Savior followed along as if having no legs, smoothly being pulled by Gretchin’s hand.

Gretchin lay down on the altar. If he fidgeted about not wanting to do this, about being scared, it would only benefit the angel that had come to stop this situation.

Gretchin didn’t want to cause any more trouble. Professor Ellara searched the floor with magic, looking for the dagger that Celestia had dropped.

“The dagger… Here it is.”

According to the ancient texts of dark mages who performed sacrificial rituals, one should cut open the heart, remove it, and offer it to the god.

Professor Ellara lit candles on a candlestick conjured with magic.

“Now! Are you ready? Ready to meet your destiny!”

Professor Ellara looked at Gretchin and smiled brightly.

If there had been anyone sane present, they would have called her a madman or lunatic, but unfortunately, the only person who could be considered normal here was Cardil. If we were being generous, maybe Yelena too.

Gretchin lay on the altar. When he had lain down earlier, only the cavern’s ceiling had looked oppressively close, but having it blown open was at least better than before.

While lying on the ice-cold altar, many thoughts came to him.

Why must I suffer like this? Even if I was deceived by a demon, anyone would have fallen for it in that situation. It’s not my fault. I didn’t want to do that. Shouldn’t the Ascetic have rescued me first in such a situation?

Various resentments and regrets pierced him bone-deep, but it was also the Ascetic who had stepped forward to protect him in that situation.

In that situation, it would have just been a meaningless death, but the Ascetic had resolved the situation that could have led to a world war and arranged things so I could sacrifice myself in a way that would help the world.

I must be grateful. Let me think of this not as a sacrifice but as martyrdom, offering my life with a sincere heart solely to help the Savior.

He firmly grasped the Savior’s hand beside the altar. The thought of the dagger digging into his heart made him tremble with fear of the pain first.

Professor Ellara prepared to cast a sleep spell. Gretchin continued speaking with hazy eyes as if entranced by something.

“I am saved by receiving punishment, so there is no need to pity me, no reason to grieve, no cause for concern… Having been bewitched by a demon and committed wicked deeds, I now receive baptism and serve the Savior once more with a clean soul…”

His eyes closed. Professor Ellara looked at the sleeping Gretchin with unreadable eyes.

“He fell asleep without me casting the spell. Indeed, ancient rituals have aspects that cannot be understood through formulas and reason!”

Professor Ellara thought that when she returned to the Magic Tower, she would need to use magic combining ancient rituals with the human experiments she had conducted with the Ascetic, and raised the dagger.

Then, the Savior, who had always remained still and vacant, began to move. When the Savior knelt, he became about the same height as the standing Erendor.

Long hands moved slowly to stroke the sleeping Gretchin’s head. Thin, pinkish hair was brushed down.

The halted halo began to turn. The dark cavern softly glowed like stars shining in darkness to illuminate the world.

The white veil forming the Savior’s body fluttered, and as the wings attached behind stretched as if stiff, a fragrant scent like flowers and water brushed past their noses.

In contrast, hearts pounded violently, bringing unpleasant feelings that surged up before naturally filling with awe.

Professor Ellara watched this scene through her broken glasses as if fallen into ecstasy. She looked at the Savior, agonizing over whether she should strike down with the dagger now, whether that would be interfering with this being. Inside the veil was darkness, strangely dark, dark… Uwek!

Inside the veil, two hands of unknown origin covered the eyes, and it was so strangely dark that no face could be seen—face? Was there a face? No, let’s not think about it. Ellara extremely controlled herself to escape from the thought. Right! This happened several times when researching and learning about the Savior! Ah! Just looking can drive a person mad like this! Truly an unknown truth, the place where I want to discover everything!

“Khup.”

As bloody tears flowed from her eyes, the Savior’s wings spread and a gentle, comfortable energy swept through the cavern. Dust swirled and the lit candles were instantly extinguished, sending up white smoke.

The bloody tears Professor Ellara had shed disappeared in an instant.

Damp and moist. Yet at the same time warm and affectionate. Cold and frightening enough to strike down in one blow, yet seeming like it would be okay to show all shame and bare truth—this sense of disparity.

Professor Ellara closed her eyes. And as if entranced by something, gripping the dagger with both hands, she recited verses she herself didn’t understand.

“Return to the Savior’s embrace, sinner. Thus you shall be saved and find peace.”

Both arms struck down.

Crack!

The dagger easily split through human ribs.

Stabbing in and cutting. With one clean cut through flesh, bone, and blood vessels, the beating heart was revealed.

Red blood did not pour out. In Gretchin’s heart, a serpent lay sleeping, wrapped around the heart.

As soon as the researcher cut with the dagger, she was overwhelmed by dizzying vertigo and staggered. She held onto the altar with trembling hands and endured. This was done solely with the determination to witness this scene with her own eyes.

Non-human, long and pointed hands slowly moved toward the heart. And Gretchin’s heart was removed.

Crash- Craaash-

The sound of the angel rampaging in the distance grew louder. It seemed to have noticed the ritual was proceeding. The pile of stones precariously supporting the cavern came tumbling down.

The heart torn from the body still seemed to beat and emit strange energy. Professor Ellara stared wide-eyed and memorized this entire scene with a ghastly smile.

The serpent wrapped around the heart slowly raised its body as if awakening from a long winter sleep. Gretchin was breathing faintly. To think he was still alive even after the sacrificial ritual!

When the Savior received the heart with the serpent in both hands, it looked as small as a mouse’s heart. As the veiled head bowed and buried itself in the hands, light sparked.

The red serpent slowly regained its color. And it hissed while wagging its tail, welcoming its contractor after a long time.

{“Savior! It’s been so long.”}

The serpent, treated as cunning and sinister. Even this blood-red, pitch-black serpent climbed up the Savior’s pure white hand.

It seemed like sin was climbing the hand of the most noble being in the world. The Savior handled that sin well.

After a few strokes, the bright red serpent gradually regained its light green scales. And from its wide-open mouth, something round and red began to emerge.

Professor Ellara assumed it would be a heart, but something completely unexpected came out.

The serpent retched and spat out an unbelievably large apple from its small body.

An apple, an apple.

The Savior returned the heart the serpent had wrapped to Gretchin, removed one rib from the opened torso, then mended the flesh again.

And he put the apple he was holding inside the veil and ate it in three bites.

The serpent flowed like water into the veil the Savior wore and disappeared.

Professor Ellara, caught up in this rushing situation, remembered that the serpent was the spirit the Ascetic had carried from the World Tree.

The professor was so overwhelmed that she remembered even such basic information belatedly. However, she knew well what words one should speak when first meeting a god.

“My Lord, my Savior!”

She prostrated herself flat. And raising both hands as if in surrender, she bowed her head as if to strike it.

“The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld His glory, the glory of the Savior, full of grace and truth!”

The Savior held the extracted rib in his hand and squeezed it tight. Then the pure white bone made a crunching sound as it twisted, soon transforming into a long spear with red markings carved like scales on each joint. It was both a weapon to pierce enemies and simultaneously a measuring reed to weigh the burden of sin.

Unlike before, the flame of intelligence ignited in the empty eyes, and the dignity of a true Savior, not just a doll dragged around by others’ hands, enveloped his entire being.

His wings melted into the veil and he transformed into a figure wearing light robes, briefly looking down at Professor Ellara prostrated flat on the ground.

Soon giving a brief glance to Gretchin lying on the altar, he slowly stepped on air and ascended toward the sky where commotion was occurring.

Flash-!

Light shone brilliantly. When sunlight touched the pure white flesh, instead of being absorbed, the light scattered sacredly to create a halo.

The angel that had been overwhelming and ravaging multiple believers flinched upon sensing that strange energy.

The angel, feeling instinctive fear, spread its wings to flee, but the Savior’s servants, covered in dirt from rolling around, desperately grabbed the angel’s ankles and held on.

The Savior, no, the Judge pronounced in a calm voice.

“…With the measure you use, it will be measured back to you.”

And he aimed the reed for measuring at the angel.

Not a mage’s staff, not a knight’s spear or sword, but a simply made reed. A reed with only a slightly pointed end.

But the moment that end pointed at the angel, the laws of the world twisted.

Sizzle- Crack!

On the body of the nearly immortal angel that recovered its flesh like soft mud no matter how much it was cut, and sprouted another head from its side even when its head was burst, an irreversible ‘line’ was drawn.

The pitch-black crack instantly spread throughout its entire body, and the angel burst apart like a glass doll in mid-air without even being able to scream.

The fragments struck the humans, but the sharp glass pieces scattered like sand and merely brushed their skin like soft ash before disappearing.

The Savior looked impassively at the remains of the angel turning to dust, then slowly withdrew his spear.

A voice different from before, yet quite familiar, reached the humans on the field.

“Fear not and raise your heads.”

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