Chương 190: The Fallen Statue of the Penal Corps

Apostle No. 8 moved like a lunatic. Screaming as he charged toward the Statue of the Penal Corps, he brandished his mithril longsword, unleashing brilliant arcs of sword light that cut down nearby monster civilians casually strolling through the plaza. Although his slashes lacked the lethal brilliance of Leon the Hero, striking unarmored monsters meant every hit was instantly fatal. Citizen Square was crowded.

The sudden appearance of a madman executing a indiscriminate massacre instantly caused horrific casualties. Screams echoed as the crowd fled in wild panic. Two squads of the Penal Corps were permanently stationed at the edge of Citizen Square to maintain order and guard the Badge of the Hero. The Badge of the Hero was set into the stone monument—anyone was permitted to touch it, but removing or stealing it was strictly forbidden. Now, these soldiers were called into action as both squads charged toward Apostle No.

8 to halt his rampage. Because the plaza was thronged with civilians, the two squads dared not fire their muskets indiscriminately. Instead, they fixed their new socket bayonets and launched a coordinated bayonet charge. However, their opponent was a holy Apostle equipped with mithril weaponry. With two effortless slashes, he carved two Penal Corps soldiers in half, shocking the remaining dozen guards. The tactics for countering transcendent threats instantly flashed through their minds.

An entity of this level was far beyond what two infantry squads could engage. Doctrine dictated an immediate tactical retreat to preserve forces, but if they fell back, what would happen to the surrounding citizens? The guards selected for Citizen Square duty were no cowards. Gnashing their teeth, their eyes bloodshot, they let out roaring battle cries and charged Apostle No. 8, fully prepared to die!

"Wahahaha! Die! You filthy goblins! You damned monsters! I shall cleanse this world of your foul stain!!" Apostle No. 8 shrieked maniacally, launching a rapid volley of over ten sword arcs that wiped out an entire squad in seconds! However, his stamina pool had limits. After that burst of heavy mana, he could no longer project ranged sword slashes and reverted to manual melee combat with his mithril longsword.

The remaining seven or eight soldiers charged through the blood with roaring battle cries, thrusting their long bayonets toward Apostle No. 8. The Apostle's mithril blade was terrifyingly sharp. Parrying one soldier's thrust, he severed the musket barrel with a leftward sweep, then cleft the guard's head clean off on the return stroke. His movements were lightning-fast, slicing through flesh and bone like a hot knife through butter. Yet the Penal Corps soldiers executed tight tactical coordination.

Capitalizing on a fallen comrade's distraction, the survivors fanned out into a tight encirclement, trapping Apostle No. 8 in the center. Seven bayonets stabbed toward him from every angle, aiming precisely for gaps in his plate armor. Had those strikes connected, Apostle No. 8 would have been severely wounded. Reacting instantly, he unleashed two rapid strikes to cut down the soldier in front of him, creating an opening before leaping forward to evade the thrusts. Now the soldiers were at a complete loss.

The intruder possessed such overwhelming mobility that they could neither pursue nor effectively engage him. Regaining his footing, Apostle No. 8 flashed a mocking smile at the surviving guards. Ignoring them entirely, he sprinted straight toward the towering Statue of the Penal Corps! Reaching the base, he hacked maniacally at the plinth with his mithril longsword, striking it seven or eight times in rapid succession. If ordinary steel blades struck reinforced concrete, they would shatter instantly.

But the mithril longsword was a miracle of material science. Under Apostle No. 8's strikes, concrete debris showered in all directions as he carved a massive breach into the foot of the statue. Apostle No. 8 shoved his entire backpack into the breach, pulled out an incendiary array, activated it, and shoved it in alongside the pack. Leaping backward like a giant flea, he retreated directly to the edge of Citizen Square, taking a comfortable position to admire his work. Stolen story; please report.

The next moment, a deafening explosion equivalent to hundreds of kilograms of high explosives detonated. The earth shuddered violently as a massive mushroom cloud rose into the air! Near the edge of the plaza, Kanda was knocked down by the shockwave while escorting the leopard-woman dancer. Instantly, he used his own body to shield her, wrapping his arms tightly around his head.

Following the earth-shattering detonation, sharp masonry fragments rained down like shrapnel, crushing numerous fleeing monsters to death as dense smoke enveloped the entire plaza. Under such a point-blank blast, the Statue of the Penal Corps could not hold. It slowly tilted and collapsed, breaking into several massive segments mid-fall before slamming into the paved ground and shattering into pieces. A long moment passed amid the groans of the wounded before Kanda broke into a fit of violent coughing.

He slowly pulled himself off the ground, his ears ringing loudly. Shaking his head to clear the haze, he checked on the leopard-woman dancer beneath him. She was unconscious, but her chest rose and fell steadily; her life was not in danger. Sighing in relief, Kanda picked her up to move further away, but a gunshot and a furious roar echoed through the thick smoke behind him.

"You bastard!! How dare you?! HOW DARE YOU!!" A soot-covered Penal Corps soldier let out a soul-rending scream. Raising his musket, he pulled the trigger at Apostle No. 8, who was laughing maniacally at the edge of the plaza. BANG! A lead ball slammed into Apostle No. 8's breastplate. Startled, he stumbled back several steps before breaking into even louder laughter, clearly proud of the destruction he had wrought.

"Hahahaha! You damned monsters! A statue honoring heroes cannot be used to praise the likes of you! Goblins should die quietly in the dark corners of this world and rot—that is the only praise you deserve! Hahahaha!" Apostle No. 8 lunged back into the smoke toward the surviving guard, thrusting his blade viciously into the soldier's chest. Unable to dodge, the Penal Corps soldier was run straight through. He coughed up a mouthful of blood, then grabbed Apostle No.

8's sword-hand with a iron grip, as if trying to stop the blade from driving deeper into his body. Having achieved his objective, Apostle No. 8 gave in to a cruel desire to mock his prey. Looking down at the dying Hobgoblin's terrified expression, he activated translation magic and sneered: "You're going to die now~" To his shock, the fear vanished from the Hobgoblin's face, replaced by a sharp, wild laugh.

"Heh... so are you!" The soldier spat a mouthful of bloody saliva through the visor's eye-slits, hitting the Apostle directly in the eyes and blinding his vision.

"AH! You damned bastard!" Apostle No. 8 roared in fury. Having filthy goblin blood in his eyes disgusted him completely. He prepared to pull the sword upward to slice the soldier in half, but before he could move, a heavy BANG echoed, and his right arm went limp. Without Apostle No. 8 realizing it, the soldier had pulled a short-barreled pistol from his belt with his free hand and pressed the muzzle directly against the joint between the Apostle's shoulder armor and chest plate.

Unprotected by plate armor, the gap was covered only by standard iron chainmail. The point-blank shot blew straight through the mesh, causing blood to gush out profusely. Apostle No. 8 stared in sheer disbelief. He had been severely wounded by a goblin he was playing with! His right arm hung uselessly as agony flooded his nervous system. Drawing on his combat experience, he knew the bone in his right arm had been completely shattered!

Driven mad by the humiliation of being maimed by a lowborn goblin, he let out a furious howl. Yet the Penal Corps soldier was not dead yet. He locked his arms around Apostle No. 8's waist in a tight bearhug.

"Die... you damned anti-intellectual menace!" Before Apostle No. 8 could process how this goblin intended to kill him, the fuse on the hand grenade hanging at the soldier's waist burned out, detonating in a violent explosion! Apostle No. 8 was enveloped in thick black smoke from the black powder blast, while the brave Penal Corps soldier was torn apart. After a long moment, the smoke cleared. Covered in blood and black residue, Apostle No. 8 sat up painfully.

Flipping open his visor, he vomited blood, feeling severe internal trauma across his entire body. His rage reached a boiling point. Had it not been for his full suit of mithril plate armor, he would have died. That a lowborn goblin had driven him to this state shattered his sanity completely. Locating his mithril longsword among the remains, he gripped it with his untrained left hand. He charged toward the disoriented Penal Corps soldiers gathering at the perimeter, initiating an unmerciful slaughter.

In the distance, Kanda's gaze lingered on the shattered remains of the Statue of the Penal Corps before shifting to Apostle No. 8 massacring his comrades. Endless rage ignited within his chest! In that moment, memories of his torture in the basement of the Governor's Mansion flashed through his mind. Those who proclaimed themselves champions of the righteous and lawful factions had treated them with unimaginable cruelty, as if being a monster was an inherent sin deserving of death! Rage burned hot in Kanda's heart.

He looked down at the unconscious leopard-woman dancer in his arms. Even if it were just for his mother—so that she could live peacefully in safety—he was willing to lay down his life for the Alliance! Carrying her to a narrow alley at the edge of Citizen Square, Kanda set her down gently. He stared at her face for a brief moment, softly wiping away the dust, then sprinted like the wind into the haze. By now, the dust from the fallen statue had mostly settled, giving Kanda a clear view of the plaza.

The last two surviving Penal Corps guards were fighting Apostle No. 8, but within seconds, both were hacked into pieces. Kanda rushed to a fallen soldier's corpse, picked up a musket, retrieved several cartridges from the pouch, loaded the weapon, aimed without hesitation, and pulled the trigger.