Hiding A Logistics Center In The Apocalypse - Chapter 90
Chapter 90: The Symbol of Resurrection (7)
TL/ED – Miso
Paris had turned bleak and desolate.
Around Place de la Concorde, the smell of rotting gardens stung the nostrils.
Caw. Caw.
Were crows here?
No, it was a mistake.
The Eiffel Tower, scorched by the crimson sunset.
Circling around it were gargoyles that had turned into zombies.
Even crows, the symbol of death, could not stand before Barnaul.
“Everyone, stay strong.”
Lydia, standing by the World Tree, saw us off.
Though she was overwhelmed with anxiety over her younger sibling’s fate, her words of encouragement had an effect.
“Let’s go.”
The square was vast, and there were many enemies to take care of.
PAX FC’s Holy Knights, Gigant Riders, and even Prague’s Awakened.
We chewed on the crisp leaves of the World Tree, wrapped in Lydia’s buff, and passed through the portal, fully prepared.
Rumble!
Like an enraged mob, hundreds of us surged through the portal, but Paris was already filled with beings of death.
Click!
Tap!
On the black asphalt, skeletons dragged their chalk-like ankles as they passed by.
With horned skulls and bony wings drooping like whips behind them, they were undoubtedly Fermegon’s demons.
Just days ago, they had ruled over Europe, yet now, every single one of them had become Barnaul’s minions.
By the time their ghastly blue eyes flickered toward us,
“To your positions!”
The Holy Knights surrounded me.
Grrrrrr!
Bang!
With the wailing of the undead, a massive battle erupted.
Having inherited Fermegon’s hierarchy, the undead boasted considerable durability.
We set up shields on both sides, swung our hammers and spears, and steadily carved a path toward the prisoner camp we had scouted in advance.
Everyone held a “Holy Hammer” in their hands.
We crushed the skulls enveloped in violet warlock magic, and at times, I swept away the enemies with a heavy weapon, like an H-Beam, as if clearing them with a broom…
Sizzle…
Yet, the vengeful spirits that returned undying quickly restored the shattered bone fragments.
“So, this is what Ellie was talking about.”
Clatter!
An immortal army that endlessly revived.
Though holy power was undoubtedly an effective means of attack, something more was needed to fight the undead.
I immediately shipped out dozens of “Demon Devourers” to various locations.
Slaaash!
Crunch!
The skulls of the horned demons shattered.
The “Devourers” seized their souls and smoothly returned to the subspace.
Thanks to that…
Clatter!
The demon corpses scattered across the ground like broken dishes, unable to resurrect.
“I have to be the one to finish them off, no matter what.”
Naturally, everyone’s roles were assigned.
While my companions used their Holy Hammers to incapacitate the enemies,
I used the “Devourers” to land the final blow.
Boom!
Clang!
The Knights of Camelot were not idle either.
Endowed with various attribute enhancement stones,
Under Lancelot’s command, Bedivere swung his fists, and Lionel wielded his electric whip, effectively restraining the undead.
However…
“Are you alright?”
They could not deceive my eyes.
Their movements were gradually becoming heavier.
Swish!
Lancelot swung his sword again, trying to dispel my worries.
“…I am fine, my lord.”
Was the aura of dark magic affecting the knights as well?
Fortunately, that was not the case.
As Fermegon’s bones piled up like mountains, and the “Demon Devourer” steadily collected their souls, bringing us closer to the prisoner camp,
I finally discovered the true cause of the knights’ distress.
A glance.
The Knights of Camelot lifted their empty eyes anxiously.
I could tell just by looking at their gazes.
Beyond that, a mysterious circular disc-shaped building lay tilted.
“Could that be…?”
“Yes…”
Lancelot also seemed to acknowledge it.
After briefly lowering his head, he finally spoke.
“…It is Sisyphus.”
I had already heard about it once before.
Barnaul had a facility that converted prisoners into vengeful spirits, and they used this facility to bind those spirits to objects, creating items.
That was Barnaul’s damned “business item”, and the most infamous of those items was none other than “Camelot”.
Fsssshh,
Thick purple clouds rose into the sky.
The disc of Sisyphus spun round and round, continuously emitting dense steam.
And then…
Lancelot’s wrist, gripping his sword, began to tremble.
‘…Is this a kind of trauma?’
It was not difficult to understand.
The knights who had become Camelot’s wraiths at the hands of Barnaul.
Naturally, they too must have gone through “Sisyphus”.
“Lancelot.”
Perhaps it would be better to bring them into the subspace.
The knights of Camelot had pleaded to join the battle against their sworn enemy, Barnaul.
I wanted to respect their determination as well, but at this rate, it would only end up reopening their old wounds.
However…
It was already too late.
He had begun to recount the past.
“…We made our final stand in Camelot. We tried hundreds of times… but we could not stop Barnaul’s army. No matter what method we attempted, they forced their way into the castle. As if Camelot had become nothing more than their playground.”
Swish!
With a swift strike, Lancelot severed the ankle of a skeletal imp.
Yet, his gaze remained distant, as if he had been thrown back into the heart of the past.
“We discovered that there was a hidden force in the mountain range near the eastern gate. We concentrated our troops there… but as if it were a cruel joke, the enemies swarmed in from the front gate instead. Not a single ant could be seen in the mountains.”
Whoosh!
The violet aura of dark magic traced the tip of his sword, forming a faint map in the air.
“The captain of the guards was Barnaul’s spy. When we executed him and thought we had taken control… the treasurer unbolted the northern gate. The invading skeletons flooded into Camelot.”
His memories were completely distorted.
The battles that had been repeated hundreds of times.
All of them were mere illusions created by Sisyphus.
“No, that was not it. The real problem was the cannons mounted on the walls. The failure to properly deliver the gunpowder from the armory was the cause. We stationed munitions officers and adjusted the trajectory of the shells, but…”
He could have continued talking for hundreds of times more.
Because this was the brutal reality he had lived through.
Amid the billowing purple smoke, the knights fought and fought again.
But…
“…In the end, we could not protect Arthur.”
Sisyphus did not leave them be.
A wish designed never to come true.
After hundreds of grueling battles, when they finally realized that it was all nothing but a nightmarish illusion…
“…When I came to my senses, I was a wraith trapped in Camelot.”
They had become ghosts filled with blood and tears.
Slaaash!
Clang!
Lancelot deflected an arrow that flew toward me with a single slash.
At some point, his blue eyes had turned toward me.
“Arthur was a young knight who appeared like a comet. He unified Avalon, exhausted by centuries of civil war, through peace and persuasion. When the Chamber of Commerce emerged, Avalon was once again engulfed in war… but I believed that as long as Arthur was protected, there was still hope.”
It was obvious, but he was a different person from the Knight King I had met.
Arthur was the king of Avalon, who had grown up with the knights, their master and friend.
Kaaaah!
The number of attacks targeting me was gradually increasing.
The undead must have realized that I was the master of the “Demon Devourer”.
As a result, the knights protecting me had no choice but to move more busily.
“But we could not protect him. Arthur, hanging from a gallows, Arthur, his body severed in two, Arthur, clutching his throat after drinking poisoned wine… Even though it was a dream, reality descended upon us like fate.”
I could read the complexity in Lancelot’s expression.
In the end, what they truly wanted to protect was not Camelot itself, but Arthur as a person.
And the wish that had been crushed through Sisyphus was now, for some reason, being prolonged.
A new place called subspace.
And a new figure who would unify the world.
Of course, I was not Arthur, and the knights’ loyalty had originated from Camelot’s curse…
‘Are they still dreaming?’
They were still living within the tragedy of Avalon.
.
.
.
What woke them from their dream was another misfortune, reflected like a mirror.
“Wait, that is…”
More precisely, skeletons produced by Barnaul.
The ones who had been creating undead using demons had finally extended their hands to humans as well.
“…They used the prisoners as materials.”
“These bastards…”
Creak.
Crrrk.
Dozens of skeletons dragged a heavy cart forward.
On top of it lay an ominous ancient Greek-style statue.
A painful male figure, its bare body exposed, arms tied to a tree, hanging in torment.
Was it some kind of metaphorical representation?
The statue was an “item” infused with hundreds of vengeful spirits.
And, just like “Camelot”, the statue also possessed a special effect.
-Grrrgh!
The statue twisted its body in agony…
Clatter!
The skeletons, having regained their abilities from life, charged toward us.
A horde of skeletons breathing fire and displaying monstrous strength, threatening the Holy Knights’ defensive line.
“Hold them back!”
Whoosh!
The Holy Knights swung their hammers, reducing them to rubble…
Sizzle…
Clatter!
Yet, the blue light emanating from the statue revived the skeletons, turning the battle into a drawn-out, muddy fight once again.
“Why are you hesitating?! Don’t let them break through!”
“But…! That is…”
The Awakened from Prague were wavering.
Perhaps among these skeletons were their own family members.
“If we destroy the statue, all the skeletons will lose their power. However…”
Meanwhile, Lancelot suggested a way to deal with the awakened skeletons…
“The vengeful spirits will also be annihilated along with it.”
Even he could not bring himself to tell me to destroy the statue.
Not long ago, the Knights of Camelot had been in the same position as them.
They too must have passed through Sisyphus.
Whether for salvation or survival, each of them must have faced their own desperate wish.
And when that wish slipped away dozens, hundreds of times, they would have realized they had become vengeful spirits.
The thought that we had to be the ones to end them was unbearably suffocating, but…
“…Even if we are to hold their funeral, it should be done by our own hands.”
No matter what, we could not simply leave behind the monument that Barnaul had mockingly erected.
Nor could we allow them to toy with the spirits trapped within it.
“Ship.”
Slaaash!
A Holy Spear shot out from the portal, hurtling rapidly toward the statue.
Clang! Bang!
Piercing through the multiple layers of dark magic barriers…
Crash!
The spear severed both arms of the statue that had been bound in the air.
Rumble…
A heap of stones tumbled down onto the cart.
At the same time, the hundreds of skeletons that had been rampaging with their awakened abilities collapsed where they stood.
And then…
Ding!
[754/1,000]
I could confirm it.
The “Demon Devourer” had successfully absorbed the vengeful spirits of the humans bound to the statue.
Their suffering, trapped, unable to die, and manipulated by Barnaul, must have finally vanished as well.
I asked Lancelot once again about “Sisyphus”.
“…So, they are forced to repeat it hundreds of times?”
It was nothing short of psychological torture.
A dreadful device that compelled its victims to relive an unattainable wish over and over until death.
“In that case…”
Shouldn’t Barnaul experience it firsthand as well?
Suddenly, I became curious about the screams they would make.
****
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The Fool
You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this TL-nim! Thank you so much and I hope you are in good health and that your pillows are cold on both sides all the time 😇😇😇