"Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!"
The Roman soldiers aboard every warship let out thunderous battle cries, as if to display their might.
Then Novia continued:
"My name is Novia. By God's command, I shall purge the heretics who borrow His name, these mad beasts. Thus, I shall bring this hell its one and only salvation. I will bear every accusation—"
"Doro Bar Kochba, you grievous sinner. Your true name is Antichrist, a root and trunk that stands as the Lord's enemy, Baal. In the Lord's name, I declare once more that Jerusalem's sins are beyond redemption, and the Jews beyond Jerusalem must be expelled. But before that, cleanse yourselves of your sins. Come before me and acknowledge that Savior Jesus Christ is the true Messiah. Only then, when the Lord's mercy appears once more, may you depart."
Blue-black light gathered around the spear Novia held aloft in his right hand, its tip aimed directly at the distant coastline.
The Dragon of Albion, magical energy fully unleashed.
"Lord, have mercy on this soul."
Gathering the ether that filled the atmosphere, the dragon's roar surged forward in a straight line. Yet this was not some saint's miracle of salvation that parted the sea.
It was a storm proclaiming extinction—and the signal to begin the war.
The sudden pillar of light, as though it would burn heaven and earth alike, drew cries of despair from the Jews stationed along Judea Province's coastline. A vortex of terror swept across the entire shore, like a tsunami closing in on land—silent at first, then transforming into a towering wave that swallowed everything.
The rebel army had no ability to use its prepared magical armaments to stop the Roman warships from landing. To make matters worse, the ships' prows bore boarding bridges fitted with enormous iron spikes, while ballistae stood at all four corners of the decks. Shields and battlements had been erected atop the high bridge towers, allowing archers to suppress them from above.
Then, in their eyes, the man dressed in distinct white clothing appeared like a warrior from the legendary Age of Gods.
In mere seconds, the man who sped through them as if slicing through an arranged formation had slaughtered hundreds. To him, battle itself seemed overwhelmingly one-sided.
The Jewish rebels recovered from their panic and quickly steadied themselves. After all, there were three hundred thousand of them here—four times the number of Romans across from them—and their attention focused on Novia, who fought on the battlefield as commander.
"Kill him! He's one of those damned Christians!"
"Lowborn scum!"
"The Messiah has descended upon the world! Our future is glorious!"
"There are only this many of them! Everyone, charge! Kill them!"
Faced with enemies stretching beyond the horizon, Novia merely smiled.
"The time has come to settle your sins."
The lightly spoken statement of fact carried an immense weight.
A dreadful slaughter unfolded. Novia, gripping his blue-black spear, swiftly slew enemy after enemy. Even "unstoppable" was insufficient to describe the magnificent way he fought with that weapon in hand.
Remember this. You can use some intimidation too. I'm giving it to you.
The Dragon of Albion's voice rang in Novia's mind. Then, every enemy within several kilometers dropped to their knees and pressed their heads to the earth.
As though worshipping the silver-haired youth, the Jewish rebel army collapsed in an instant.
Novia pulled his blood-soaked spear free. Ignoring their strange reactions, he swept it sideways with tremendous force.
The nearest enemy was beheaded by a single strike. His head flew away and fell into the sea of Jews.
"All troops, heed my order. Leave no one alive."
Killing One Is a Sin
Every inch of the coastline in Judea Province was soaked in blood.
For a long time afterward, this event was discussed throughout the Roman Empire.
That magical energy, like the blazing noon sun; that divine wrath humanity had no means to defy; and the punishment of condemnation delivered by the Empire's great army.
Without mercy, yet filled with love—
All for the sake of completely exterminating those Jews foolish enough to defy both the Empire and God.
In the past, hearing that four hundred thousand people had vanished at once would surely have made anyone feel at least somewhat sorrowful. But in light of the brutal massacre that had recently occurred in Judea Province, most people in the Roman Empire said little.
They merely said in unison:
"They set out to fight the Jews, dealing with those madmen without mercy. There was no need to hesitate, and no need for pity."
Jerusalem.
"They're all dead? A bunch of useless trash. They couldn't even beat those filthy Romans, so good riddance. Still, it's been so long, yet not even the lowest-grade Dead Apostle has appeared... That shouldn't be happening."
Within the First Temple, the magecraft workshop once built by Solomon the Sorcerer King, Doro, hailed as the "Reborn Messiah," listened with an indifferent expression as his subordinate reported the disastrous defeat at the front.
"So many people have died, yet those damned corpse monsters didn't take the chance to stir things up. How strange. I even laid such a fine foundation for them."
What Doro did not know was that, as early as when Novia asked Emperor Claudius to order the encirclement of Judea Province, he had also contacted Kouhaku, the Twenty-Seventh Progenitor. He demanded that not a single Dead Apostle be allowed into blood-soaked Judea Province. Even Dead Apostles who were Progenitors had to be stopped.
"Right. What did the Burial Agency say? I told them to take Novia's head. How did they respond?"
"...Lord Narubareck said this was an internal dispute within the Church, so she did not intend to intervene..."
"Heh. So they won't even obey the command of the true Messiah anymore? There are still far too many heretics in this world. God had no choice but to bring me forth again."
Doro sneered coldly. After a while, he asked his subordinate again:
"How many people are in Jerusalem now?"
"Because of the Romans' merciless slaughter, many people have continued flocking toward the holy city. There are currently around 1.2 million people. We are nearing the limit."
After Novia slaughtered every Jewish rebel along the coastline in a single battle, he split his forces into three routes. They would attack from all sides before converging on Jerusalem for the final battle.
"Enough. We can use some of them as firewood." Seated in the great hall, Doro waved a hand. "Within a day, identify those who have never killed a Roman or anyone of another race. Order every one of them to cut off a finger to swear their resolve. Also, summon the elderly, weak, sick, and disabled to gather within the temple. This is the command of the supreme Messiah."
"Yes, supreme Messiah. We will spare no effort in fulfilling everything you say. Under your leadership, we shall eventually eliminate every inferior being besides ourselves!"
After some time, Doro rose expressionlessly from his seat. Passing through the underground passage beneath the temple, he arrived at an exceptionally vast space—
Jerusalem, this sacred place that had existed since the Age of Gods, was shrouded in layers upon layers of barriers. It was a sanctuary sustained by immense magical energy, protected by invisible safeguards capable of deceiving the forces of nature... So why had it once been breached by Roman trash?
Why had his noble chosen people of God been humiliated?
It was absolutely not because those filthy Romans had been too strong. It was because they had lacked the leadership of him, the true Messiah. That was what Doro believed.
The Age of Gods had passed, and the magical energy of all Jewish magi could no longer fully deploy the defenses of the entire holy city?
What a joke. Were human lives not the finest magical energy?
Furthermore, after occupying Jerusalem, Doro discovered the Sorcerer King's corpse. It was undoubtedly the best "firewood." Yet he also discovered an unknown, twisted aggregate of magical energy, slowly being born within what looked like mud.
The magi following him did not understand the true nature of that mud, but they still advised destroying the "mud" as thoroughly as possible.
However, Doro was deeply interested in it. He said:
"I am the Messiah. Even if the Sorcerer King were alive, he would have to obey me!"
A small number of magi objected, so Doro killed them along with their families.
Afterward, the twisted aggregate of magical energy transferred itself into Bazdiloh. Not only that, it even used the magical energy from human lives and the Sorcerer King's remains as feed, gradually increasing its own power.
"Only thirty thousand? Barely enough. If the Messiah's glory is to descend, then since they are all believers loyal to God, they should be put to effective use."
Night had fallen, and the abyss opened its jaws in anticipation.
The thirty thousand people Doro had ordered gathered had arrived underground in Jerusalem, at its deepest point—a place untouched by light, a genuine garden of darkness.
Doro smiled happily as he cast a gentle gaze upon the countless people, as if admiring treasured possessions, as if lovingly caressing cherished pets.
"My friends, very soon, you will attain glorious value."
"Compared to the great task of avenging ourselves upon inferior beings, this is but a trivial matter. There are still far too few people."
"But because what you do will be necessary for heaven on earth to arrive, I, the Messiah, am deeply grateful to you."
As the man spoke, the thirty thousand people, who had already been bewitched into extreme madness before entering, began slaughtering one another. They killed in the shadows with devout expressions on their faces, then died one after another.
"Rejoice and cheer to your hearts' content. Even ordinary people like you can be of some small use to the supreme Messiah."
Then twisted magical energy seeped from Doro's entire body, and he spoke in a somewhat distorted voice.
"You dared to call me the Antichrist, the Lord's enemy? Hahahahahaha..."
"I am the anointed one! Novia, you unforgivable heretic, when you arrive in Jerusalem, I, the Messiah, will make you experience a punishment even more painful than that suffered by Jesus, who betrayed us!"
Have I Already Gone Mad?
Southern Judea Province.
Under the assault of one-third of the Roman legions led by Nero, Doro Bar Kochba's territory continued to shrink. Faced with absolutely overwhelming force, it did not matter how fearlessly the Jews who believed the "Messiah" had descended fought to the death.
Village after village was razed, fortress after fortress captured, yet the resistance faced by the Roman legions only grew fiercer.
For example, Nero, who was approaching Jerusalem, had only just barely finished completely destroying another fortress. Moonlight had fully spread across the sky, revealing faint, discernible outlines across the dark and lightless land.
The girl stepped directly over the collapsed city gate and shattered courtyard walls. The sound of falling rubble echoed through the empty buildings and streets.
Earlier, seeing no hope of escape, the Jewish garrison in the fortress had fallen into complete religious madness. They firmly believed that "this was God's will, and they were destined to die."
After the Roman army opened the gates, it found only a hellish sight. The Jewish resistance had burned every building, while the entire garrison, regardless of gender or age, had committed collective suicide.
Yet because of their doctrine, Judaism forbade suicide. So they drew lots and helped one another die—husbands hacked their wives to death, wives stabbed their husbands. Children killed the elderly. I stabbed you, and before you died, you stabbed me as well... The final person drank poison and died.
That was only natural. By this point, the Jewish rebels and the Roman legions were locked in a war to the death. Once a city fell, the Roman army would take revenge on everyone within it. In return, the Jews spared neither Romans nor Roman prisoners. Some claimed that "even their horses' nostrils were flooded with blood."
"My lord, we found more tunnels dug by the Jews underground. Should we directly use magecraft to burn them out completely?"
"Yes. Have the magi accompanying the army clear them out with magecraft. Whether there are people inside or not, do the same everywhere."
Though the tunnels had hindered her advance all along, and though they likely contained luxuries such as glass tableware, dressing mirrors in leather cases, wooden jewelry boxes, and incense shovels, the blonde girl gave her order coldly.
"Burn it all. Nothing needs to remain."
The other two armies were doing the same. Before long, Nero's force would converge with the other two outside Jerusalem for the final battle of this campaign.
Come to think of it, Nero felt that something seemed to be germinating in the direction of Jerusalem, though she did not know when it had begun. It fascinated her immensely, though the feeling itself was difficult to describe.
Since the rebellion in Judea Province began, the population across the eastern Mediterranean had almost been completely uprooted. Entire Greek villages, Jewish settlements, and Roman colonies vanished from the map. Countless skeletons formed masses of death, piled together without distinction between adults and children. Ethics and common sense had completely collapsed—destruction, ravaging, merciless violence. What was torn apart was blood, flesh, and bone, all matter made of the same substance.
According to the magi accompanying Nero's force, two hundred thousand Jews had been killed during the southern campaign under Nero's command. Forty-six fortified towns and five hundred sixty-eight villages had been reduced to the ground.
The blonde girl walked a road drenched in blood. Even now, her killing intent had not wavered in the slightest.
The corners of her lips curled faintly into a smile.
It was both unquestioning trust and an expression steeped in sickness.
This was because, before the Roman army split into three, the teacher who had instructed her for many years—the supreme commander of this campaign—had said this to her—
"Nero, you will bring peace, tranquility, joy, and happiness to everyone in the Empire. I think you have already found that courage."
Novia had not used forceful words. He spoke as though persuading a young child.
"Because you are Nero, I am telling you this. Go and crush every heretic you see. This is for your sake too, Nero."
Then he smiled.
At that moment, by the side of the teacher she revered, hearing him speak those words, countless emotions welled up within the blonde girl—pride, reverence, joy, and fragments of memory.
Before the rebellion was suppressed, her mother, who had sensed danger in how close she had become to Novia, had desperately told her something—
The reason you suffered headaches was because you had been taking poison ever since childhood. It used to be her. Now it was Novia.
In that instant, the girl's thoughts were normal, and her feelings were calm.
Her heart accepted everything exactly as it was, clear and transparent like the surface of still water. There was not a single ripple, no confusion, no anger, and no dissatisfaction.
It was only an I see kind of realization.
...No, that wasn't right. Why? Could it be that I had always been abnormal, or—
Had I already gone mad?
Only now did the girl realize belatedly that she had actually been replaced long ago. The unease from the day she was abandoned as a child had apparently been replaced along with her.
Thus, Nero's shining eyes looked directly and unwaveringly at her mother, Agrippina.
"That is truly wonderful. So I was that important to him—important enough that he could only keep me through such means. Honestly, you should have just told me. I thought Mother was going to say something serious. Still, I will wait for the day he tells me himself. Or will he tell me when he decides to kill me? Hehe, I'm joking. How could I possibly do something like that?"
A smile like a rose flower touched by morning dew, swaying gracefully in a soft cool breeze, remained on the girl's face. She smiled without the slightest wavering.
"Umumu, indeed. I carry exactly the same blood as you, Mother. I am, without a doubt, a madwoman."
The blonde girl spoke brightly and cheerfully. She had already gone mad.
Though she remained lively on the surface, within her heart, blazing flames still burned with unmistakable madness—flames that would burn everything away, offer up everything, covet everything, and burn everything away.
Thus, faced with Novia's words that sounded as though he were persuading a child, Nero smiled and replied:
Before you continue