The ground around them was riddled with craters. The battle between Bell and the goblin seemed like a child's game compared to the crushing wave of killing intent that now filled the air.
"Allen, what do you mean by this?"
Heith stepped forward, shielding Bell behind her and glaring sharply at him.
"Just delivering a greeting on behalf of the goddess."
The killing intent spread like dark ink through water, saturating the air and giving birth to a suffocating current of fear.
Heith knew that was an obvious lie. The noble Goddess would never allow such barbaric behavior. Just as she had hidden her identity to secretly test Bell, Allen was clearly acting on his own.
The difference between them was simple—her curiosity and concern came from goodwill, while his actions reeked of selfishness and malice.
A tense silence hung between them until a shriek pierced the air.
The three adventurers Bell and Heith had just rescued wanted to thank them after the battle. But under the crushing pressure of Allen's murderous intent—far more terrifying than any goblin—they couldn't endure it. Screaming, they turned and fled.
"Be quiet."
Allen's voice was flat, devoid of emotion.
A flash of silver cut through the air. A violent shockwave struck the trio, and though they only caught the edge of it, they were hurled to the ground, unable to stand.
Dust rose as Allen stood amid it, a beast-like silhouette.
"Pathetic trash. Make another sound, and you'll end up like that wall."
With a single thrust, he had gouged a massive hole into the Dungeon wall. The three cowered on the ground, trembling in silence.
Bell hadn't even seen Allen move. The raw power alone was horrifying. This situation was far beyond what a rookie adventurer like him could handle.
"What are you planning to do?" Heith demanded.
"Have you gotten dull since you left the battlefield? Can't even sense killing intent that obvious?"
Allen held his silver spear, his eyes filled with mockery and disdain.
"Do you think the Goddess will forgive you for this?"
Heith's body trembled instinctively. Once, she too had been one of those baptized by the Goddess.
She had staked her life again and again, struggling to grow stronger, to serve that noble Goddess. No matter how many times she fell, she always stood back up.
But her determination had been crushed by the wall of talent. In the end, she had to accept reality and become a healer.
Now, facing Allen, Heith felt as though she had returned to that nightmare battlefield. If this turned into a fight, she didn't stand a chance.
"This is the Dungeon. Do you really think Freya-sama would know about it?" Allen said coldly.
The gaze of the gods could not reach the Dungeon.
This is bad. Of all people to meet, it had to be him.
Heith's fighting style focused on continuous healing, supported by her resilient body. As long as she stood, the front line held. But her abilities were supportive—useless in a one-on-one duel.
Worse still, Allen was faster and far stronger than she was. She needed to stall for time.
"Nothing on the surface escapes the Goddess's eyes. You and I entered the Dungeon one after another. If something happens, you'll be the first suspect," Heith said, forcing her voice to stay calm.
Allen let out a short, derisive laugh.
"Heh. That's just how the Dungeon works. A few weaklings die, and no one cares. Who would bother about some rookie adventurer's death?"
Damn it.
Heith's brows tightened. This lunatic clearly intended to kill Bell.
Though all of Freya's familia had sworn loyalty to the Goddess, each interpreted that loyalty differently. And Allen was one of the worst.
To him, only the Goddess and those with overwhelming power were worthy of respect. Allen's version of loyalty was nothing but twisted selfishness.
Selfish?
No, that wasn't quite right. That was only Heith's surface impression of him.
To release killing intent toward Bell simply because he wanted to monopolize the Goddess?
It couldn't possibly be that simple.
Since founding the familia, the Goddess had gathered many pure white souls. Each began as fledglings, gradually growing into elite warriors.
To claim that mere envy of this white-haired youth was enough to warrant such a brutal killing was utterly far-fetched.
Heith sensed something off, striving to pierce the true intent hidden behind those cold, indifferent eyes.
"We cannot deceive the gods. Should anything happen to Bell, Freya-sama will surely uncover the truth." Her face was flushed with fury, but her mind remained perfectly calm.
She must have overlooked something.
With a sharp click of his tongue, Allen's impatience broke the silence. The silver lance surged like a raging torrent, compressing the air and shaking the ground beneath them.
This is terrible.
Only someone utterly foolish would decide to have a healer clash head-on with a war chariot.
As the silver lance closed in, the sound that rang out wasn't metal striking metal but the blood-soaked dance of a spear piercing flesh.
Heith stood her ground, bearing the full force of the blow with both hands. Flesh and blood scattered, yet her wounds began to close under a searing light.
"Allen!" Heith's pink hair whipped in the shockwave, her crimson eyes blazing with wrath. "You selfish traitor! I will not allow you to defile the Goddess's divine will!"
Staking her loyalty to the Goddess, staking the warmth the young boy had given her, Heith did not retreat a single step.
Allen offered no response, merely swinging his silver spear again and again. He charged forward, striking with the ferocity of a beast tearing through flesh.
Heith's white cloak was shredded, her wounds bursting open like a collapsing dam.
"Traitor!"
Her blood burned silently within her, her rage and fervor shining with golden light.
Pierce. Heal.
Pierce. Heal...
Even a god seeking amusement would turn away from such an overwhelming, one-sided battle.
Wrath surged through Heith's mind, yet a peculiar question lingered.
What exactly was Allen thinking?
He unleashed such fierce killing intent, yet he hadn't slaughtered the bystanders.
If he truly intended to deceive the Goddess and kill Bell, his first targets should have been the trio of novice adventurers who witnessed the scene.
Yet Allen had merely threatened them. His relentless assault was incomprehensible.
The chariot had yet to charge.
Heith had seen Allen's magic before—a power worthy of the Goddess's chariot, with speed and might capable of overturning everything.
With a single incantation, he could end it all in one strike. A swift end would be the best way to prevent anyone else from getting involved.
Heith couldn't understand it. Why was Allen fighting like this?
That moment of confusion gave him an opening. Allen turned his spear toward Bell and thrust.
Blood burst forth as an unprecedented shockwave rippled through Bell's body. He didn't even have time to cry out before he slammed hard into the wall.
"Bell!"
Heith cried his name in panic, but the silver spear blocked her path mercilessly.
"Don't worry. He's not dead," Allen said coldly.
Covered in wounds, Heith trembled with pain, regret, and realization. At last, she understood Allen's intent.
He feared Bell's existence.
He feared that this pure white soul—one unlike any other—would steal the Goddess's heart.
It wasn't envy. It was pure, unadulterated fear.
He feared the Goddess might change because of a mortal, might abandon Heaven, and that the one he vowed to protect would lose her home.
No matter his reasons, Allen had chosen the most despicable path his foolish mind could conceive.
He hadn't raised his spear to kill Bell. Allen would never kill the boy, nor would he let him leave easily.
His intent was one-sided torment and humiliation—planting the seed of fear, corrupting the boy's pure white soul.
Even understanding his motives, Heith remained powerless.
She looked toward the boy lying on the ground and dragged her aching, battered body closer.
In truth, it was precisely because she understood Allen's goal that she hesitated.
If she used her healing, Bell would only continue to endure this torture.
Then, as a healer, she would become Allen's accomplice.
In the darkness, the nightmare continued.
Damn it.
This is awful.