In the decaying temple there was the crashing sound of the entrance door being torn open.
In the circular open space at the deepest part of the temple, it was heard.
Wounded, the expression of the exhausted knights and their resignation was evident----there was no way to turn things around any longer. They had just prolonged things for a bit.
The imperial capitol had fallen into enemy hands, and the gathered soldiers had barricade themselves in this temple at the base of the mountain. On the 6th day the front gate gave way.
Soon the enemy would rush into here too.
The Holy Purominia empire had boasted of 500 years of prosperity, now its tragic end was waiting.
The God Emperor no longer sat on his throne and the Elite Sacred Imperial Guard were nearly all in the Mamono's bellies. If they left this cave they could see red lit night over the burning imperial capitol.
"Is it a matter of time before we lose here?......"
"It might not if you put the plan into action."
The open space was faintly lit with a lamp's light magic and an old man and a young woman, who bore expressions of quiet despair and frenzy, were talking.
They were people who had escaped into the temple before the knights. The high-ranking Shinto priest of the Moon God, and head wizard of the magic school, who was a person who could manipulate first-class magic. They were already prepared for death.
However they wouldn't fall easily. They didn't have that type of bravery.
The man in an expressionless voice spoke to the altar in the center of the plaza.
"Is it good? Hyumuna."
The hoarse voice had power in it.
"Yes......"
On the altar the Yorimashi was sitting calmly.
The Yorimashi was a girl just starting puberty.
Her body was wrapped in a white, thin robe of feathers that subtly showed the lines of her body was holding her hands together as she prayed deeply.
She had the white wings that proved her descent from the winged people, and looked so beautiful she could easily be mistaken for an artificial doll.
What they were trying to do here was heresy.
But, for those about to fall, it was hope.
The battlefield, the feast of slaughter, approached step by step.
In black robes, the magicians who hid their faces in the hood, stood at equal intervals surrounding the altar at the center.
All them were reciting the same quiet word.
Echoing in the cave, their chant gathered together and intermingled.
『Drifting light from the Void's Interstice.』
The Yomashi's body was etched with fresh blood.
『Connect this world and the Nether world, sentry don't block us.』
The girl had a tortured expression.
『Have the winged people's blood as compensation I pray.』
Her overflowing blood is inhaled by the magic formation underneath her.
『Show this world compensation from a different sky!』
Simultaneous with the completion of the poem the enemy poured into the plaza.
A one-sided battle broke out in the plaza.
No, it would better be described as a slaughter.
The knights had lost their willpower, and the people wearing robes had no weapons. They fell one after another as the enemy army invaded. It couldn't be called resistance.
However at that time feelings other than despair were on the faces of those who fell and stayed down. None of the enemy soldiers noticed it.
The corpse had a crooked smile hidden deep in his hood as it's vacant eyes stared at the hollow where the altar disappeared from.