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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Lord Fourth
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The Shadows of God were the Pope’s personal guard. Unlike the Holy Knights and the Cathedral Knights, who prioritized the protection of the Holy City, the Shadows of God were assassins who carried out the Pope’s secret orders and handled the dirty work.
Hence the name “Shadows.” They operated in the darkness, wielding their swords in places where even God wouldn’t look. They didn’t hesitate to use any means necessary to achieve their objectives.
They had chosen to ambush us in the Empire because it was the most effective method. It could escalate into a diplomatic incident if they were discovered by the Imperial authorities, a stain on the Pope’s reputation, but they didn’t care.
They were confident they could finish the job and erase all traces before being discovered. They had done it before.
Benedict, the leader of the Shadows of God, believed he had everything under control.
Thud!
“Agh!”
…Until he lost one of his men to the knight before him.
“…What the…?”
Benedict shook his head in disbelief. The knight, Elliot, swung his golden sword, its blade imbued with aura. A clean, straightforward attack.
But it was a feint. He twisted his wrist mid-swing, piercing the heart of one of Benedict’s men. The movement was fluid, almost beautiful.
Elliot. That nameless swordsman was a Holy Knight of the Holy City. Holy Knights were skilled warriors, but Elliot was exceptional. A genius who had become a Holy Knight in just two years.
His skills lived up to his reputation. He had reportedly defeated five Holy Knights while escaping the Holy City. But Benedict hadn’t expected him to be this strong.
“….”
The Shadows of God were assassins. They weren’t suited for open combat, but they weren’t weak enough to be overwhelmed by a single Holy Knight. They could use sword aura, and they didn’t hesitate to use poison, curses, and other underhanded tactics.
Benedict was confident that his seven men could subdue Elliot if they attacked together. But that was impossible because…
Flash!
A blinding light. A faint film enveloped Elliot’s body. Not a simple barrier, but a highly concentrated shield of divine power. A barrier created with divine magic.
Its source was the Saintess, Ophelia Meredith, standing behind him.
“This is troublesome.”
Indeed, it was. The Saintess was as much of a problem as the knight. Elliot’s sword easily deflected their close-range attacks, and their projectiles and curses couldn’t penetrate the Saintess’s barrier and healing magic.
The two of them were like an impenetrable fortress. Even the highly trained Shadows of God couldn’t break through them in a frontal assault.
“Spread out!”
Benedict made a decision. He was willing to accept some casualties.
“Target the Saintess!”
Touching the Saintess was blasphemy. He had initially planned to kill the knight and persuade the Saintess. But that wasn’t an option now. They wouldn’t kill her, but they would subdue her. It would be difficult, but the Shadows of God had their methods.
“Use it.”
At Benedict’s command, a thick green smoke filled the air. Paralytic poison.
“They fight dirty.”
I muttered, holding my breath. The green smoke was definitely poison. He couldn’t tell what kind, but it wasn’t lethal.
Ophelia was right behind me. Then…
“A neurotoxin?”
My tongue went numb, and the feeling in my extremities faded. I spat out bloody saliva and raised my sword. We had been at a standstill for several minutes.
I could sense a faint divine power from them, confirming they were the Shadows of God. That bastard Pope had finally lost it.
I had managed to kill one of them in the first clash, taking advantage of their momentary lapse in concentration, but the others weren’t foolish. They were using a war of attrition, slowly chipping away at our strength.
“Ophelia, they’re targeting you.”
“I know…”
“They’re also using poison.”
“I can detoxify it.”
A golden ripple spread outward, and the numbness in my tongue faded. Detoxification and status ailment recovery were some of the main reasons to have Ophelia in your party in the game. But they knew that. So…
Clang!
A dagger struck Ophelia’s barrier, making it flicker, and her stance wavered. I deflected a few more projectiles and steadied her.
“Ophelia.”
“Y-yes.”
“Isn’t it difficult to maintain the barrier and use detoxification magic at the same time?”
“….”
There were six of them, targeting Ophelia from all directions. She had to maintain the barrier constantly. But their sword aura could penetrate it. And maintaining a divine barrier while also using detoxification magic was taking a toll on her.
Emily, with her multi-casting abilities, could handle it, but it was too much for Ophelia.
“I can… still do it… so…”
“Ophelia.”
I placed my hand on her head.
“You’re bleeding from your nose.”
“….”
Ophelia touched her nose. Crimson blood stained her trembling fingers. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her face was pale. She looked like she was about to collapse.
“…Stop it. You’re pushing yourself too hard.”
If this continued, Ophelia would suffer irreparable damage. She had done more than enough. I could see how much she had grown.
“…W-what are you going to do…? You can’t win alone…”
“I won’t abandon you.”
I had no intention of abandoning her. They had ambushed us in the Empire’s territory. They were confident they could kill or subdue us and erase all traces.
The most effective way to disrupt their plans was to make things messy. There was only one option. I focused on the Mark. I didn’t want to use it because of the severe backlash, but I had no choice.
“…Sigh.”
Power surged through my body. The poison no longer affected me. My senses sharpened, and I could see them, hidden in the shadows, despite their stealth magic.
Six assassins, stronger than even Sword Masters. Even the hero wouldn’t be able to defeat them in a fair fight. But I could disrupt their plans.
“Ten minutes.”
I muttered.
“Ten minutes of mayhem.”
“Hmm?”
Benedict felt a strange shift in the atmosphere. A sixth sense he had honed over years of being an assassin. His opponent’s aura had changed. He was being watched.
Elliot’s gaze was fixed on him, despite his stealth magic. It felt like he was standing in broad daylight.
Benedict tensed, ready to react, but one of his men, seeing that Ophelia’s barrier had faltered, jumped down, dagger in hand. It was a logical decision, but a fatal one.
“It’s a trap! Get back!”
Benedict yelled, but it was too late. Thud. A golden blade pierced the assassin’s chest, the tip protruding from his back, dripping blood.
“….”
Silence. Then, Elliot moved, faster than the eye could follow. The assassins threw poisoned daggers and projectiles, but Elliot, seeing their trajectories, changed his direction mid-air and leaped again. Towards…
“Damn it!”
Benedict drew his sword and blocked the attack.
Crack!
His wrist broke. He quickly healed it with divine magic, but he had to roll out of the way to avoid Elliot’s next attack.
A golden blade, imbued with sword aura, whizzed past his head, slicing through several trees behind him. Before Benedict could react, Elliot stomped his foot.
Benedict barely managed to dodge, but the force of the impact sent tremors through the ground.
A simple stomp, and this much power…
‘A monster.’
Elliot’s aura had changed. It was as if a god had possessed him.
An enhancement spell? Dark magic? An artifact? Or a Mark? It didn’t matter.
Benedict made a decision. They couldn’t defeat Elliot in his current state. But he couldn’t maintain this power forever.
He would use his men as shields to buy time and focus on capturing the Saintess.
He would take her hostage and negotiate. It would be difficult to erase all traces, but he could still complete his mission.
“This is blasphemy, but I have no choice.”
Benedict muttered, spreading his cloak, throwing out all his hidden weapons, and releasing a cloud of deadly poison.
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Hi Lord Fourth here!
I’m still new to translating as this is my second novel to pick up, so if you find some mistakes or inconsistencies let me know about it on the dedicated channel on discord.
