Chapter 129
What lay before them was a Medusa.
Like fairies, like the dead, it was also a being classified as heresy under Impellias’s law.
Its blue-skinned, lizard-like body and the swarming snakes on its head were utterly horrific. Snakes writhing on lizard scales — it was nothing short of a collection of things that triggered unpleasant instincts.
The wounded Medusa raised its head. Its eyes were like those of an insect. Theogrim clenched his fist. He desperately suppressed the instinct to involuntarily step backward.
Squeak, creak. Shaa—shaashaa.
“‘…The demon will tear the infidel’s limbs apart.'”
Theogrim translated the Medusa’s words. It didn’t sound like a language, but this was clearly the language they used.
Ragnar, glancing at Theogrim, lifted his chin. At the signal to continue, Theogrim focused his gaze on those repulsive compound eyes.
Shaa, shaashaa, creak, kii-creak.
“‘Your god is a demon.'”
“‘Your god will gnaw at your soul and lay eggs within it.'”
“‘Your filthy soul will become the hatched demon’s meal.'”
“‘You will rot and become mere husk. The triumph of your wicked god will be upon your husk…'”
“A slave of filthy infidels, you’ve learned well.”
Ragnar took a step towards the Medusa. As Ragnar approached in the darkness, the Medusa’s body thrashed like an insect encountering its natural predator.
Theogrim felt cold sweat trickling down his back. The malevolence emanating from the creature was too terrible. It felt as if insects were clinging to his entire body, yet Ragnar’s face showed not the slightest waver as he stepped forward towards the heretic.
Squeak—!!
“I will bestow a blessing upon you.”
Ragnar placed his hand on the Medusa’s glistening compound eyes, which resembled an insect’s.
The Medusa, touched by the man’s hand, thrashed violently as if having a seizure. The chains binding the Medusa’s limbs clanked. The metallic sound, reflected by the marble walls and floor, reverberated.
Theogrim suppressed his nausea with all his might. The mere thought of touching that skin, that terrible face, made him want to retch, but Ragnar was calm.
The battlefields where Ragnar had served must have been filled with such heretics. Even in the midst of a battlefield filled with all sorts of horrors, this man would not have wavered in the slightest. Just like this very moment.
“So that your soul may be guided to the righteous God.”
Squeak! Creak!! Shaa—!
“Your soul shall be purified, and your flesh…”
Light emanated from Ragnar’s fingertips. Theogrim swallowed.
“Will shed this repulsion and become worthy to stand at the altar of God.”
Shaashaa, shaa, shaashaa–!!
Theogrim alone listened to the heretic’s curses. They were curses whose meaning required no translation.
The prophetic words of curse soon turned into fear. Its fiercely rolling compound eyes fixed on the Holy Knight’s fingertips touching its head.
What the Medusa was exuding was immense terror. The heretic writhed in agony, as if the transparent, holy light touching its head was some terrible poison, some repulsive entity.
Theogrim thought at that moment that it might be the same kind of revulsion and fear that ordinary humans, and he himself, felt from the Medusa’s presence.
Ragnar stood upright, bringing the light down upon the Medusa’s head.
Kieeee—!!
The heretical monster shed tears of green, dripping. They were desperate tears, pitiful enough for a moment. But the Holy Knight’s face, as he brought the light down on the Medusa’s head, showed not the slightest waver or hesitation.
Only a very small number of people, including the escort knight and Carmen, were allowed into this altar. They watched, holding their breath, what their Lord was doing.
The light emanating from his fingertips was unspeakably holy, yet the being touched by the end of that holy light writhed in agony. It was a bizarre sight.
It was as if that light was committing violence. If anyone were to see it, this light would clearly not be a blessing or grace…
Shaashaaashaa…!!
They would have thought it was a curse.
Undoubtedly.
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