Life in Vain: Jobless Reincarnation

144 – Holy War – II

Back in the Magic Continent, Rika frowned as she reread through the reports that Ruijerd handed her earlier in the day. And as she did, she clicked her tongue. "It really is that person."

She had always wondered about it. Back in her timeline, Demon God Laplace existed. It was common knowledge that he was sealed away in a secret location within the Magic Continent, guarded by seals that Perugius personally placed and reinforced with his summoned spirits.

And yet, the man calling himself 'Magic God Laplace' had appeared while Demon God Laplace never emerged. Moreover, at that time Perugius had focused all of his resources on the Magic God.

Rika had suspected that Magic God Laplace... or rather, the Rudy that became Magic God Laplace was just the reincarnation of Demon God Laplace. But now...

"If my time and this time are similar save for that one instance..."

From her talks with Rudy, they were fairly certain that her time branched from his at a single point. However, even though time branched, it didn't mean that certain key events wouldn't occur if they were already in motion before the branch.

Then...

Rika took off her glasses and reread the report one more time, checking the location, the observations, and Ruijerd's findings against what she remembered about Magic God Laplace's origins.

"...This might be a problem."

Rika wasn't worried about Rudy. Even if the seal broke and Demon God Laplace tried to possess Rudy because he happened to be a perfect vessel... Well, Rudy was a crazy and ridiculous person who was practically a god on his own right at the moment.

After all, he had the power, miracles, and faith to proclaim himself as one.

But that was the best case scenario. In the worst case...

Magic God Laplace was infamous for his assimilation ability. And people had suspected him of being the reincarnation of Demon God Laplace due to using some of Demon God Laplace's infamous techniques.

What if Demon God Laplace had been fully resurrected, but his powers had been taken by that time's Rudy for his own?

And what if...?

"There is no use thinking like this." Rika shook her head and set the papers down. "For now, let us leave it to Ruijerd and just send a message to Rudy."

The seal was only weakening at the moment, so there was a bit of time. Not only that, but Ruijerd's combat potential was even higher than he had been in his prime as Demon God Laplace's general.

Rika wasn't concerned about a fight there. Ruijerd could hold his own long enough for Rudy to sense the disturbance and return.

Instead, what Rika was concerned for was...

She glanced at the sky and frowned. After that, she looked at the 'maid' who had been quietly sitting in the corner of the room.

"Atofe."

The former Immortal Demon Lord bowed her head and said, "Yes, Lady Rika?"

Rika's eye twitched.

It was still weird seeing the brash and hot-headed Atofe act like that. Just what happened when Rudy went to meet her...?

No. That wasn't important. Instead...

"Do you think Perugius would sit down and talk peacefully if Demon God Laplace's seal breaks near our kingdom?"

Atofe scoffed. "That guy? Of course not. He acts all noble and aloof, but he's a super hot-headed idiot when it comes to anything related to Laplace."

"I thought so."

Rika sighed.

It seemed like she should expedite Project Zenithia then. If conflict with Perugius was inevitable, they might as well go ahead with it and create another floating fortress.

---

The middle of the night, dark with nothing but the moon to guide the way. Under the moonlight, an eclectic group departed from Millishion, stepping out onto the open fields.

Some were in pristine white armor, shining like specters from beyond the veil. Others were in sparkling silver armor. Others still were wearing haphazard equipment, some with proper armor, some with miscellaneous pieces... And the rest lacked armor at all, simply advancing in their plain clothes.

Leading this group was a young man. When he left his home, he had been just a boy. A youth not even to his tenth birthday. But through happenstance and divine intervention, he had experienced years beyond what he should have had the world resumed its natural course.

A genius plucked from his home, humbled, and returned with conviction.

Standing at the front, Cliff Grimoire confidently advanced, his light brown hair and his pure white robe fluttering with a gentle night breeze. Unlike his followers who were barely illuminated by the moon, he seemed to emit light of his own. Like a lamp in the darkness, his surroundings were bright, serving as a beacon and guide for those who may have been doubtful behind him.

But it was dangerous. Unlike the others, he had no armor. Though his robe gave off a holy aura, it was ordinary cloth. A blade would easily cut through and rend his flesh. An arrow would pierce and strike him down.

Even so, he advanced without doubt. His eyes remained steadfast on the White Palace in the distance, as well as the flurry of activity starting to emerge from the palace gates.

It was difficult to see to the ordinary eye. Knights bearing dark blue armor that blended in with the darkness advanced.

Knights from the Order of the Temple.

Not only that, but the faint twang of drawn bowstrings echoed from the distance.

And of course, the target was Cliff.

The white moon became shadowed. A barrage of arrows blanketing the sky shot forward.

But Cliff continued to advance. Almost as if a martyr or sacrifice, he continued forward while the others moved back.

The arrows arrived.

A few screams echoed. Some of the younger members from Cliff's group closed their eyes.

In the distance, the captain overseeing the Temple archers cheered.

But shortly after, silence fell over both groups.

Cliff was standing there, completely unharmed without a single scratch on either his skin or his clothing. Instead, the arrows had pierced the ground around him. But they weren't deflected. Instead, as if divine interference, the arrows formed a perfect circle around him. Moreover, if one looked upon the arrows from above, they would see that it formed the cross of Saint Milis, with Cliff as the center.

The silence continued for a moment. And then Cliff broke it.

Staring into the distance, he smiled and swept out his arms. "Is this all you can do in the name of your God?" He stepped forward, placing a foot on the arrows.

Logically, they should have broken. They weren't tightly packed enough to support his weight.

But the arrows held, and Cliff advanced.

"FIRE!"

A roar echoed in the distance. The captain ordering the archers to attack once more.

Cliff let out a benevolent smile and advanced, his arms still held out. "Look! Those who act in the name of that God cannot strike me! Their arrows miss, and their blades shall break!"

The next volley of arrows arrived. But like before, they flew off course. Yet, it wasn't due to a barrier. Instead, it looked like some divine force had brushed them aside at the last moment.

The Temple captain turned to his men and growled. "Where are you aiming?! Fire!"

Another volley.

Cliff smiled, watching as the arrows continued to miss. And then he turned back towards his followers. "We advance! Tonight, we expel the false prophets!"

"UWOOOOOOOOOO!"

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