Reborn As Noble Chapter 1269: The Myth of Revival Magic ( 1269 )

Hanarak felt his entire body grow numb; the sharp agony that had engulfed him moments before now subsided into a dull, distant throbbing. His breaths became shallow, each one a labored effort. The injury on his shoulder no longer pulsed with pain, and his fractured ribs ceased their stabbing protest with every slight shift.

He gazed unseeingly at the tunnel’s ceiling, his vision becoming increasingly blurred.

Looks like I'm heading for the grave here...

A weak, wry chuckle escaped his lips.

"If... if I had one more shot at life... I wouldn't be an assassin anymore..."

He paused, his thoughts meandering.

But... can I really manage that? I made that promise once before, and I failed to keep it. I broke my word. I squandered the second chance Garius so graciously gave me.

He closed his eyes briefly, sensing the chill seeping into his body.

Ah... perhaps this is the sensation of dying...

He attempted to concentrate, yet his sight continued to waver, the edges of the tunnel dissolving into encroaching darkness.

I can feel... the pounding in my wound... but the pain itself, I can no longer feel...

His hand, which had been clenched around the remnant of his severed arm, slowly relaxed its grip, his fingers trembling before falling lifelessly onto the dirt below.

His breathing grew faint, then ceased entirely.

"A-ah~ Not so quickly~"

The rhythmic sound of armored boots echoed through the confined space of the tunnel, each step measured and deliberate. The knight clad in golden armor emerged from the gloom, his polished shell reflecting the faint light.

He knelt beside Hanarak’s still form, bending low. Grasping Hanarak’s hair, he lifted his head, forcing his lifeless eyes to meet his own.

"Who told you that you were going to simply die like that? Hmm?"

He placed a hand, glowing with inner light, upon Hanarak’s chest, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Wake up, you fool~"

The golden armor radiated a gentle, warm luminescence. Healing magic flowed into Hanarak’s depleted body, mending his shattered ribs, fractured leg, and sealing the gaping wound where his arm had once been. Then, a sudden jolt of electrical energy surged from the knight’s hand, shocking Hanarak’s heart back into its proper rhythm.

Hanarak’s body convulsed violently as his heart resumed its beat. He gasped, his eyes snapping open as he inhaled a desperate lungful of air, sputtering and choking as life reanimated his very being.

"Ooweee~ Lucky you woke up, huh~"

With a snap of his fingers, the golden knight caused shimmering magical cuffs to materialize, encircling Hanarak’s wrists and ankles. They glowed with an energy designed to restrain.

"Good morning, sunshine~" The golden knight leaned in, his voice lowering to a teasing, confidential tone. "Did anyone tell you that you couldn't die before meeting the Punisher? Hmm?"

Hanarak’s eyes widened, his gasps for air still coming in ragged bursts.

"Where am I? Is this the afterlife?"

"Heh~" Javier's voice, laced with playful mockery, emanated from the golden knight as he waggled a finger in Hanarak's face. "Nope~ You're still in the very last place you occupied. Take a look around~ Your lackeys are already buried beneath the debris."

Hanarak’s gaze swept frantically across the scene, registering the devastation of the tunnel and the fallen forms of his men. He looked down at his own body; his shattered leg was now completely healed, the void left by his arm was sealed, and the ache in his ribs had vanished.

"Who... are you?"

"Ah~ Me?" The golden knight tapped the chin guard of his helmet before stooping down, meeting Hanarak’s gaze directly. "Just call me Goldie~ I'm on a mission to apprehend and deliver you straight to the Sovereign of Armand, King Garius."

Hanarak's eyes widened in sheer disbelief. He attempted to recoil, but the magical restraints held him fast. He tried to summon his dark magic, but nothing occurred; his powers were completely nullified.

"Uuuuu~ What's with the surprised look?" Javier's voice, imbued with playful taunting, came through the golden knight. "You've committed the gravest of sins, you know? And you ought to be aware of the fate awaiting transgressors like yourself."

"Wh... what? Are you affiliated with the Saints of the Three Gods?!"

"Chi chi chi~" Javier waggled the golden knight’s finger once more. "Don't mention those zealots. Armand has no interest in allowing those cultists, nor their priests or followers, to set foot within its territories. Do you truly believe Armand would engage in dealings with such fanatics? Didn't I make it clear earlier? My task is to capture you and hand you over to the Punisher... understand?"

Hanarak stared at the ground, his voice trembling with apprehension.

"Only the High Priest of the Saints of the Three Gods possesses this caliber of magic... the ability to revive someone who has already passed..."

"Hah? Are you dense? There's no magic capable of bringing back the dead, moron." Javier let out a scornful chuckle, his words dripping with sarcasm. "You weren't completely deceased. Your heart had ceased functioning, but your soul was still tethered to your physical form. I merely provided a small nudge to set things in motion again. It’s not resurrection; it’s simply advanced medical intervention and resuscitation."

He leaned in closer, his voice heavy with amusement.

"How foolish to cling to such a notion. If the Saints of the Three Gods truly possessed 'miracles of revival,' then why have none of those lost in wars or endless battles been brought back? Hmm? Seeing it once or twice only reveals it as a fake miracle, a scheme to fleece gullible believers of tithes and donations, and to manipulate the desperate."

A soft chuckle escaped him.

"If such magic genuinely existed, the former king, Kliatana’s father, the late King Edmund, would still be presiding over the Human Kingdom today. And not a single noble would dare instigate a civil war, you imbecile."

Javier emitted another chuckle, his voice laden with mockery.

"Should you still hold onto the belief in revival magic, then allow me to pose this question: The late King Edmund was the sovereign of the entire Human Nation, and at that time, the majority of the human populace were devoted followers of the Saints of the Three Gods. Churches were ubiquitous, and as king, he wielded the authority, the wealth, and the influence to implore for a revival. His kin, his queen, his most trusted confidants – all possessed the means to demand such a miracle."

He paused, allowing his words to permeate before unleashing a derisive sneer.

"And yet... he remained deceased. No divine intervention. No resurrection. Only a cold tomb and a kingdom left to fracture."

He slowly shook his head.

"No wonder, after the Celestial War, the majority of nobles and common folk in the Human Kingdom abandoned their faith in the Saints of the Three Gods. They perceived the deception. They understood that if such miracles were genuine, the late king would still be alive, and the civil conflicts would never have erupted."

A subtle, sarcastic laugh escaped him.

"Well... if you persist in believing, the choice is yours. It is indeed challenging to enlighten the ignorant, is it not? I suppose real education is forbidden for simpletons like you, eh?"

"Regardless..." Javier chuckled lightly, his tone reverting to a more relaxed manner. "I deem it best we cease this conversation. Besides, an idiot like you ought to be delivered to Armand for his due punishment."