Against The True Gods-Chapter 153: Return

Jamie’s camp, already a field of carnage and destruction, now resembled an extract of hell itself.

The land was scorched emerald, covered in eternally burning white flames. The soil curved inward, forming deep trenches and craters that littered the area.

These craters brimmed with blood, flesh, bones, and corpses, strewn about in grotesque piles that seemed to stretch endlessly.

A thick, lingering killing intent saturated the air, mingling with the clashing intents and wills of countless entities. These forces tore at the natural flow of qi, creating volatile and chaotic storms that raged across the battlefield.

At the edge of this chaotic field of destruction, a lone woman stood.

She wore layered black and white priestess robes, her long, curly blonde hair framing her face and cascading over her shoulders. Her piercing blue eyes radiated waves of slumbering power, their depths hinting at untold strength.

Priestess Enya surveyed the scene, her gaze scanning for something—or someone—while her thoughts churned with confusion.

After the abominations invaded the camp, she had fled for no more than an hour, yet in that short time, the camp had transformed into this hellscape.

The corpses of soldiers and abominations alike piled upon one another, further deepening the mystery of what might have occurred in her absence.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she sensed a ripple in space.

Her aura flared as her gaze narrowed, but before she could locate the source of the disturbance, a sudden and overwhelming pressure engulfed the world.

Her body trembled, and her heart pounded as she fell to her knees.

A tall figure stood before her, shrouded in a mantle of thick silver aura. He was mere inches away—so close she should have seen him arrive. But she hadn’t.

She couldn’t.

The world had become a blurry and broken fresco of runes and colors, making it impossible for her to focus.

"Enya, I see you’ve survived. I’m glad," the figure spoke, his voice resonant and melodic yet terrifying in its lifeless echo.

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The figure gazed down at Enya’s trembling form and seemed to understand.

The oppressive pressure vanished instantly, and the mantle of aura surrounding Caine dissipated, revealing his figure. Squatting down, he extended a hand and helped Enya to her feet.

"I apologize. I hadn’t noticed my aura leaking."

Enya stood, her body still trembling, though she quickly regained her composure. As she gazed at Caine’s face, she found herself momentarily enthralled before snapping back to reality.

"Sir… your eyes…?"

Caine chuckled. "They’re fine. I’ll get them back in due time. The world has never been clearer to me, so there’s no need to worry."

Enya opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself. Instead, she dropped to one knee, crossing her palm over her chest in solemn reverence.

"Sir, I, Enya Sanglier, swear dearly to the Daos of Heaven that I shall serve his lordship Lerouge to death and beyond."

The skies parted, and a golden chain descended from their depths. The chain phased into Enya’s chest, wrapping tightly around her heart.

"Let my blood be a testament to this oath."

A blade appeared in her hand, and without hesitation, she slit her throat.

Blood gushed forth, spraying into the air and intertwining into runes that linked together to form another chain.

The chain moved with terrifying speed, suturing the wound on her neck and stabilizing her condition.

Enya rose, her gaze resolute as she looked toward Caine.

"Well, that was something. A Dao Oath, hm?" Caine mused aloud.

Dao Oaths were promises made with the world itself as a witness—unbreakable vows.

The punishment for breaking one was worse than death: an eternity of unimaginable suffering.

With this, Enya had essentially bound herself as a vassal to Caine, no less loyal than any of his summons.

Though Caine considered it a slight waste—he could have turned her into a summon and granted her unique talents—it didn’t bother him much.

"Alright, dear Enya. I accept your oath."

The chain around her heart glowed brightly, dissolving into a cloud of runes that fused into her flesh.

Waves of strength coursed through her body as the oath was finalized.

"But you’ll have quite a bit to explain," Caine remarked.

***

Caine sat naked in a grand hot spring, its glowing crimson waters as red as blood yet as soothing as a mother’s warm embrace.

Impurities slowly burned away from his body, cleansing him.

Most of the scars he had accumulated over years of battle faded, though a few remained—most notably the ones on his neck, chest, and ribs.

Upon his back, a complex golden tattoo of intertwining dragons and silver clouds flickered on and off in rhythm with his heartbeat.

Reclining against the edge of the spring, Caine listened as Enya stood behind him, recounting her report.

"Jamie himself is quite restricted by figures I am not very informed on, but he has considerable influence over all merchant deals involving the Church’s Knighthood. In turn, he controls a network of corrupted pawns within their ranks. That’s why he wanted you to join the Royal Knight Guard—so he could locate you."

"It would have been simpler for him to meet you here, but the issue is twofold. The ruins you must see are in the capital, and after the incident here—with your terrifying tribulation—he’s drawn far too much attention. Leaving discreetly would be nearly impossible."

Caine nodded, absently stroking his chin as he sank deeper into thought.

"As for me, your highness," Enya continued, "I was sent by Pope Francis to aid you… forever. Though you may not trust him fully yet, I believe this will change once you meet him. He, too, awaits your arrival at the Royal Knight Guard."

Caine raised a brow in mild surprise. "I see. How are you and Jamie’s people connected? From what I know, these are two paths that should never have crossed."

Enya nodded, clearly anticipating the question. "Pope Francis said you would ask this."

"The answer, in his words, is this—and I quote: ’I was simply using them to make things easier for you.’ That was all he told me."

Caine chuckled softly at the response, leaning back against the warm edge of the spring.