Maarkus would consider himself competent in the craft of energy manipulation. Unfortunately, he wasn’t capable of using holy energy to augment the speed at which he could perceive and think, so in this situation, he could only let raw panic and instinct do the heavy-lifting for him.

  From the branches above, a plethora of beartraps were falling, their jaws wide open and ready to come shut upon the people below. What had triggered them to start falling was unknown, and frankly, it was the wrong question for anyone to be asking themselves right now.

  Illogically, however, the logistics of the situation were so bizarre to the cleric that his mind couldn’t help but wonder about how this had come to be as he stepped to the side, the teeth of a trap biting right through strands of his blond hair as another surged from the ground below, attempting to chew right through his ankle.

  But his protective spell was still in effect. Nonetheless, he was caught off guard and lost his balance because of it.

  The protection only applied to the lower body. If anything else fell within reach of a buried trap, then…

  He had to trust in his luck. Maarkus hastily placed one palm against the ground, holding himself up as he churned to cast another spell, seeking to create a protective, holy canopy above everyone’s heads.

  Dirt moved.

  His hand was within reach of a trap, and it instantly clamped down with maximum force. The cleric’s fortune turned out not to be too bad, as his palm hadn’t landed right above the center of a trap, but he grunted his pain nonetheless as his thumb was torn off.

  Blood poured out in abundance, but he remained steady nonetheless, managing to cast the spell a few seconds later, preventing more falling beartraps from posing a threat.

  The situation did not look good.

  The unfortunate knight who had been struck first was not dead per se, but his injury was far too severe for Maarkus to do anything about it. The trap had closed right on his head, the helm had prevented instantaneous death, but the skull and brain had still been damaged due to the sheer power those things could exert over a relatively small area.

  A fractured skull could be healed, but a damaged brain? That was beyond the healer’s capabilities. That portion of the body was far too complicated and important. Even if he could theoretically pour healing into the man, it was highly unlikely that he would just be able to walk off the brain injury.

  Amongst the difficult areas for Maarkus to heal, the brain was definitely the worst by a long shot. The other organs were comparatively much simpler, so his medical knowledge, combined with energy-based healing, could do the trick in most cases…

  This knight was a lost cause. The cleric would better use his energy to heal the other knights.

  Of the eight remaining knights, only one had managed to avoid injury altogether, and two others had only been lightly harmed.

  The five others had gotten into a similar situation as the exorcist, and had been led to fall as traps held one of their legs in place through the protective spell, three had an arm broken, another had a beartrap clenched around his shoulder, and the last instead had a beartrap crushing down on the side of his stomach, but since the armour plate was much wider here than elsewhere, it seemed like the damage wasn’t too bad.

  Though with only one person out of them all having been left unharmed, there weren’t many available to actually force the traps open to remove them, and without removing the traps, Maarkus couldn’t do any proper healing.

  “Everyone, stay on guard!”

  One of the knights spoke up with a pained groan. They had been put in a bad position. Now was the most opportune time for something to strike… Some of them could hardly defend themselves. They barred their spears and swords, some having to use their non-dominant hand to do so.

  The cleric extended his senses as best as he could, but it was unnecessary.

  All five phantoms peered out from behind trees. For the first time, he got to see them all.

  “Do you not want salvation from this eternal torture? I can free your souls from her control”

  He said, summoning luminous blades of holy energy, using these, spirits trapped to wander the earth in one way or another could be set free and proceed to either a realm of death or of afterlife.

  “The Divine Feather will be especially forgiving of you five. It will know your stories”

  He continued, but contrary to his expectations, the ghosts seemed almost offended by the offer.

  “You…Will…Not…Take…Away…From…Her…”

  “Vile…Stranger…”

  “We…Don’t…Listen…To…Strangers…”

  “We…Like…It…Here…”

  “This…Is…Our…Afterlife…”

  Their response was unanimous, making the exorcist frown deeply. He was familiar with tortured, tormented spirits… He knew how to recognise them at a glance. This was what they were, and they should remember their former lives. He couldn’t understand why they would want to remain under her command despite all of this…

  Just as he was about to try and convince them again, the forest erupted into a deafening cacophony. An old melody began playing from all around them at an absurdly loud volume. It was like dozens of orchestras were playing like lunatics right next to his ears.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  It wasn’t even the worst part, as alongside the melody, desperate cries and pleas for help played as well. The sound of screams as people were being murdered, blood-chilling shouts arose alongside the music, like it was supposed to be the accompanying lyrics.

  The spirits began to laugh, and in the confusion, a figure burst out of the ground.

  Everything devolved into chaos within a moment. The closest knight was blindsided as the figure screamed a garbled roar right in his face, seemingly stunning him for a moment as the figure grabbed him by the head and slammed him into the ground, right on top of where a buried beartrap was, crushing his helm and head in an instant.

  Only seven knights remained now.

  “Maarkus!”

  The only one that had remained unhurt shouted for the cleric, taking him out of his bizarre stupor.

  “You need to clear everyone’s mind. Something is affecting our emotions”

  Said the man as he pointed his halberd at the monster. He was right, Maarkus could feel his heart beating wildly with panic. Such a feeling was only natural in such a situation, but it felt exaggerated, abnormal.

  Thankfully, calming the minds of people was one of the first things most clerics learned to do. Maarkus could manifest such a spell with ease, and once it occurred, he and everyone felt their thoughts become more focused.

  Panicking wasn’t like them. They were trained knights, and it wasn’t the first time they faced a challenge that could cost them their lives. Even if it had been a while since they had encountered such danger since becoming a part of Mister Nebulo’s personal army, the cold calculation that arose when the odds were grim was still present within them.

  All got their first good look at their opponent, a tall creature with exaggeratedly large limbs, feet and hands that both seemed to belong to something that should be larger.

  Most of the knights were about as tall as the creature, but Maarkus couldn’t help but see it as much taller than they. Its presence was one that demanded attention, that jaw…

  It was exactly the same as the so-called ‘beartraps’.

  Its shaman-like garments and crown of horns were overshadowed in the cleric’s mind as he gazed into those two, small, beady eyes. Those deep, dark purple eyes.

  A particular shade of purple he had only ever seen once before. It all but truly confirmed it in his mind. The evidence had been staggering already, but it had been hard to believe it with how improbable it had seemed.

  There was no time for daydreaming. Maarkus focused on support. Most of the knights were wounded and impossible to heal with the traps still stuck to them, but holy energy focused on augmenting and aiding others, he could cast blessings of strength, agility, stamina… He could make them stronger than they were. He could imbue their weapons with energy.

  Turning these knights into pseudo-paladins, even if only for a little while…

  They were strong, they were skilled, they were competent… But Mister Nebulo’s personal army could not count true champions or heroes. Such a right was only reserved for the royals.

  Their blades created sparks as they struck the monster head-on. The creature didn’t seek to evade. It was using its steel body to deflect their strikes. The attacks reached the enemy, but the angle at which they struck meant that little damage was actually getting through.

  “Focused on a single point! Target the joints!”

  Shouted one of them, but it was easier said than done.

  The Mother Beast grabbed the unharmed knight’s halberd, wrenching it out of his grasp before swinging it down onto another man’s skull. The strike didn't penetrate the helm, but the sheer concussive force dazed him long enough for the monster to lunge at him.

  They rolled on the ground, and like a bear, the monster pinned the knight down, bit down on his head, and with a twist, ended his life.

  Only six knights remained.

  Maarkus sought to assist the knights with offence as well, but the enemy was too smart. Nearly always making sure to place a knight between themselves and the cleric, and with how erratic the fight was, taking a chance with a spell was a terrible idea.

  Five knights remained.

  Their enemy didn’t hesitate to use weapons as well. Appearing as though knowledgeable in the handling of such weapons, and in the fighting style of knights as well…

  Four knights remained.

  Maarkus had to hastily dodge as the monster threw a sword at him, the blade embedding itself halfway through a tree, and worst of all, he stepped on another buried beartrap, taking his attention for a little while as he had to manipulate the protective spell to shake it off.

  Two knights remained.

  “This is bad… She’s way stronger than anticipated…”

  The cleric watched as one knight was grabbed by the legs and smashed against the side of a tree with enough force to put him out of combat instantly.

  One knight remained, and Maarkus poured everything he had into augmenting this one.

  It was the originally unharmed knight. He had taken hits since then, but the injuries could be healed without a problem. In a one-on-one, however, the monster knew that it would win, so it ignored the knight entirely, simply puking some sort of dark substances at him, sending the fight ghosts to exert their powers upon him.

  Instead, it rushed down the cleric.

  Maarkus backed off until ferns no longer surrounded him. He had reached the small clearing that the unfortunate knight from earlier had been talking about.

  He stood his ground in front of the taller monster, his expression complicated.

  “Mara… Is this really you? Are you… Mara Nebulo?”

  He wished the monster would say nothing, or speak in a voice he couldn’t recognise.

  “Of co–course, it’s me–me–me. Who else?”

  She leaned forward, and he could have sworn her metallic, monstrous face bore a grin somehow.

  “Maaaaaarkus~ What are you do–doing here? Sti–Still can’t get over your crush on me?”

  “Mara, you’ve become a monster”

  “Wh–a–a–at? You don’t like my new-new look? How sha-shallow”

  The cleric tensed up, raising his arms in a defensive position.

  “Those five ghosts, it’s them, isn’t it? So it really was you all along. Your brother wasn’t lying… He is the one who sent me here today, you know?”

  “The limper i–is still in Tolten?”

  “How do you even come to such a conclusion?”

  “P–Please, Maarkus! Like a mama’s boy like you and a coward–COWARD like him would ever dare set foot outside of the city! What… Does he employ you as a confessor or something?”

  Maarkus merely narrowed his eyes.

  “There is redemption for everyone in the eyes of the Divine Feather. It is not too late for you, Mara”

  “Cleric Boy. I think you should be more focused on your own sa–a–alvation”

  “My salvation is already assured”

  “Then… What about that of a brother who abandons a–and then sends assassins after his sister?”

  “...”

  “That’s w-what I thought”