Chapter 210 “Rain of Fire”
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
In a moment of sheer disbelief, Heidi struggled to put words to the chaotic scene before her. All she could comprehend was the fiery spectacle as flames appeared to descend from the heavens themselves.
Without any prior indication, the scene had shifted dramatically. What was once a regular rain had transformed inexplicably into a deluge of fire. The once familiar city was now engulfed in a terrifying hue of red, as if hell itself had risen to the surface. Trees, homes, towering structures, and places of worship were all bathed in this ominous glow. Adding to the calamity, loud detonations had begun echoing throughout, shaking the land as though it was under siege by heavy artillery.
The scene was nothing short of apocalyptic, a nightmarish distortion of reality.
Overwhelmed, Heidi felt her legs give way, nearly succumbing to the fear and shock of the scene. However, the persistent ringing of church bells pierced the eerie atmosphere, offering a glimmer of hope and sanity to anyone within earshot.
This ringing was no ordinary sound but a protective barrier orchestrated by divine intervention. Whenever the fiery rain made contact with the church, it was repelled, safeguarding the sanctuary within. This, however, meant that each church had become a lone bastion amidst this inferno, serving as a pivotal defense point.
Breaking the harrowing quietude, Bishop Valentine’s voice rang out, commanding, “The enemy is upon us… Destroy any threats approaching the bell tower!” His words jolted Heidi back to awareness.
Before Heidi could formulate her question, a resounding explosion from the church square cut her off. The sound promised nothing good.
Rushing to get a clearer view, she saw the city’s defenders battling against an unimaginable foe. Pland’s military machinery, including spiderwalkers and tanks, was deployed, firing relentlessly. Yet, the adversaries were unlike anything she’d seen before: humanoid figures made of ash, moving in grotesque, worm-like motions, seemingly unfazed by the onslaught.
Heidi shivered involuntarily. She could hear the ghastly cries of these creatures, which resembled humans only in form but acted like feral beasts. Her medical training confirmed her worst fears. Their primary mission was clear: target and obliterate the crucial mechanism within the church’s bell tower. If that were to happen, other protective spells in nearby chapels would falter, spelling doom for Pland in its entirety!
Every soul in the city was acutely aware of the gravity of the situation – the warriors, the civilians, and most profoundly, the clerics. There wasn’t a shred of hesitation in their defenses against the encroaching darkness. Whether it was through bullets, divine bolts of light, or any makeshift weapon they could muster, they confronted the beasts head-on. Many even used their bodies as shields, forming a human barrier against the onslaught.
From tender childhood to rugged adulthood, this world had taught them a simple yet cruel lesson: survival demands a fight. Nothing in this realm was handed over freely, and now, the cost of their existence was evident. They had to defend their reality against being consumed by the fiery abyss.
Against an apparently endless tide of darkness, the mortals stood their ground, weapons drawn and spirits aflame. Even if it meant making the ultimate sacrifice, they would not yield. Surrender was a foreign concept here.
“Hold the bell tower!” Valentine’s voice, filled with commanding might, reverberated throughout the city-state. “As long as the spell eye resonates, our reality remains intact! Faithful warriors, now is the moment to demonstrate your valor! DEFEND OUR LAND, WHATEVER IT TAKES!”
From her vantage point near the main cathedral, Heidi witnessed the immense turmoil that erupted. While a majority of the city’s defenders were concentrated here, several survivors, undeterred by the initial wave of monstrosities, joined the resistance. Their combat experience, or lack thereof, was irrelevant; if they could wield a weapon, they were in the fight.
Observing the fierce and desperate battles unfolding, Heidi hurriedly approached Bishop Valentine. “How can I assist during this crisis?” she inquired.
“Tend to the young and elderly inside the cathedral,” Valentine commanded with a grave tone. “It’s vital to maintain calm and order within these walls. Stay with them until this nightmare subsides.”
As Heidi acknowledged his directives, Valentine turned his gaze heavenward, his eyes seemingly capturing a bird’s-eye perspective of the entire city. Through his unique vision, the bishop saw the devastation – the city was ablaze, countless lives had been lost, and the streets were painted with despair.
His vision also captured the various chapels dotting the cityscape, each a sanctuary for those lucky enough to have found refuge before the initial onslaught. Within these strongholds, valiant souls were battling against the malevolent forces. The intensity of their resistance was matched only by the fervor of their attackers. The grim reality was clear: without intervention, these bastions of hope would soon be overwhelmed.
With heightened focus, Valentine’s gaze narrowed in on a group of ominous figures lurking behind the massive horde laying siege to the main cathedral. Their aura and demeanor set them apart from the common adversaries; these were beings of a different caliber altogether.
“Could these be the agents of the Sun Heirs?” he murmured.
A wave of unease washed over Valentine. Among the chaos and ruin, a seemingly minor incident from the past suddenly loomed large in his memory — an event that was believed to have been settled and then gradually faded into obscurity.
Whipping his head towards a senior priest standing beside him, he asked urgently, “Do we still have those Suntists confined in the underground sanctuary?”
The term “Suntists” momentarily baffled the priest. Taking a brief moment to gather his thoughts, he replied, “Indeed, they remain imprisoned in the underground. An entire contingent of guardians oversees their captivity. They pose no threat of escaping…”
“I’m not concerned about that!” Valentine interjected sharply, “They never intended to break free. Their aim was always to be ensnared within our sacred walls!”
Before the priest could process this revelation, the cathedral shuddered from a powerful thud as if some colossal creature had been roused from the depths below.
Those within the cathedral who had witnessed the sinister Suntist uprising four years prior instantly recognized the implications of that sound.
Back then, the Suntists, in their twisted sanctum, had conducted a vast blood ritual, calling forth a deceptive sun. This malevolent manifestation nearly unleashed ruin upon the city.
However, just as their malefic scheme was nearing fruition, it was thwarted by Vanna, freshly anointed as the inquisitor at the time, who foiled their ambitions.
Still reeling from the recent tremor, the senior priest whispered, almost to himself, in horror, “This was merely a precursor… a trial run for what they truly desired.”
……
Flames surged like an ocean’s tide, consuming all in their path. The once-familiar sound of bells was accompanied by the piercing shriek of sirens. From every conceivable direction, ashened creatures made their ghastly appearance, rampaging and tearing through the mortal realm.
Throughout her life, Vanna had been plunged into the depths of many harrowing confrontations. She’d combated sinister cultists, vile beasts born from forbidden rites, and had even stood against the terrifying onslaught of unhinged spectral entities and the unhinged Enders. Yet, none of these previous battles could match the infernal chaos she was presently immersed in.
She was no longer on a mere battlefield; she was in the midst of an unfolding apocalypse.
In essence, the final reckoning that had been held at bay for so long had finally dawned.
Yet, even in this hellscape, Vanna persisted, forging a path of resistance through the blazing inferno. Every step was arduous, every heartbeat a testament to her indomitable spirit. The searing air scorched her lungs with each breath, and her body was on the brink of collapse, a state any regular human would have succumbed to several times over by now. Aggravating her situation, the armor she wore was battered and scarred, and her innate recuperative abilities couldn’t match the rapid onslaught, resulting in her wounds deepening progressively.
Yet, the young inquisitor’s determination remained unbroken.
The continued ringing of the cathedral bells signified that Bishop Valentine’s defenses still stood tall. While the guardians of the cathedral might be oblivious to the diabolical plot unfolding around them, their readiness for unexpected treachery and combat was unwavering.
As long as the cathedral was under siege, Vanna could not, would not, falter. More than merely battling her adversaries, she was keenly observant. She discerned that Bishop Valentine had activated measures to stabilize reality, suggesting that he too had glimpsed the underlying malevolence. As long as the bell tower remained intact, the heretical scheme to supplant the “genuine history” with a manipulated “counterfeit history” would be thwarted.
To halt the chaos and salvage the city, they needed to disrupt this falsification at its core.
Pushing forward, Vanna fiercely cut down any foe that dared impede her progress. But as she neared an intersection just a short distance from the cathedral, a grisly sight brought her to a sudden halt.
A dark-gray automobile lay overturned, its frame mangled from the devastation. Bodies were strewn around the wreckage, but it was the sight within the vehicle that gripped Vanna’s heart – a familiar bloodied arm visible through the shattered window.
It belonged to her uncle, Dante Wayne.
Another girl to adopt lel
;(
Come on. Why were the cultists not killed? Seriously. No benefit to keeping them alive. Not to mention how the orthodox churches are quick to kill heretics. Why would they have so many alive if no information could be gained from them!!! I have been wanting to say this for some time.
suggestion. They manipulated them to stay alive