This Isn't an E*otic Game?-Chapter 109: Extermination Battle

For 300 years, divine words had rarely descended.

As time passed, the gods of the Pantheon grew increasingly silent, withholding their will from the world of humans.

The twenty-four sects still active on the surface grew more and more ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) uneasy, but they did not abandon their faith.

They could still use divine power.

Even if the gods remained eerily silent, the continued presence of divine energy meant their deities had not vanished.

One day, they believed, the gods would again speak as they did in the past.

And so, the Pantheon—this conglomerate of twenty-four earthly sects—carried on with their religious rites, clinging to hope.

But today, and only today, all sects of the Pantheon had temporarily halted their rituals and turned their full focus to battle preparations.

“Demon worshipers, you say?”

“The report was sent just now by the Labor Inspector!!”

“Inform the Imperial Palace and the Pantheon immediately!!”

Following the urgent notice from Minister of Labor Carl Lenaro, the Pantheon swiftly began arming their paladins and priests across all sects.

Though each sect served different gods, the sudden emergence of Demon Lords as a common enemy naturally united them.

“Holy Lady, have you heard?”

“I have. Arm yourselves, everyone. Let’s wipe them out.”

Leading the charge, as always, was the White Sect under Iomene’s command—fervent and zealous in their preparation for battle.

And while the Pantheon readied itself, the Imperial Palace was far from idle.

“Which unit is stationed closest to Talhaim?”

“The 3rd Division, Your Majesty.”

“Mobilize them. Tell them to surround the entire mountain.”

“At once, Your Majesty.”

“And summon Otto Delmarc. We’re activating the soulless of the Black Fortress.”

Even the Mage Tower was in full crisis mode.

“Research? You think research matters right now?! Call everyone in!! All mages specialized in combat spells, get them here! Activate the teleport stations between Mage Towers! Pull at least ten combat mages from every district and send them to the capital!!”

Archmage Jörgen was screaming himself hoarse into a magical communicator.

Almene was frantically helping her father organize the mobilization of the 3rd Division and the Black Fortress. Erfa, meanwhile, was silently gathering her wand and gear.

The capital itself was in total chaos, like a beehive struck with a stick, everyone scrambling to prepare for war.

And then it happened.

The wide open plaza before each sect of the Pantheon split vertically from sky to earth.

And with it...

Divine words—stronger than ever before—began to rain down like a storm.

“Dulaneir...”

Ketralthus, Iomene, and High Priestess Miromel all fell to their knees, tears streaming down their faces.

“Le-Nery speaks.”

High Priest Gerson and the priests of the Silent Sect stared dumbfounded up at the sky.

“Ah... Grace... Lilia...”

At the Mage Tower’s temple in the capital, the priests and High Priest Yodel of the Grace Sect wept as they gazed into the heavens.

And they weren’t the only ones.

The Sun Sect.

The Prophecy Sect.

They all received divine words.

But the most shocking of all—

“...Divine words...”

“God... is speaking to us...”

There were three sects that had never once received a single divine word in the last 300 years.

The Wisdom Sect.

The Moonlight Sect.

And the War Sect.

And yet now, their priests were hearing it.

And the message received by all was the same:

[Go.]

[Go and save the Saint of Healing.]

[He is our chosen one, beloved by us. You must go and save him.]

Morale didn’t just reach the heavens—it tore right through them.

“By the will of the gods!!”

Countless paladins and priests of the Pantheon roared as they hurled themselves into the portals opened for them by the gods.

The Imperial Palace wasn’t far behind.

“Deploy the soulless, now!!”

The Black Fortress moved.

“Yes!! A portal!! It’s a portal!! The gods have opened a portal for us!! Gather every mage under your command who can move! Get to the capital now!! We’ll keep the teleport station open!!”

The Mage Tower moved.

Countless numbers passed through the portals the gods had opened for humanity, stepping into Talhaim’s Rock Mountain.

And there, they witnessed—

“Hold them back!! We must buy time until the ritual is complete!!”

The desperate roars of three incarnated Demon Lords.

The Goddess of War, locked in battle against them.

And—

“Grace!! That’s—it’s Lady Lilia!!”

A divine being whose presence filled the entire mountain.

At the peak, watching over all below.

A giant divine form identical to the Goddess of Grace... cradling the Saint in her arms, a sight so holy it stilled the air.

****

Kanya roared.

In the electrifying unity of body and soul between her and Belia, she swung her sword in pure rapture.

“[Satan!!]”

Her blade moved faster with every strike.

Normally, even if Belia had reclaimed her divine nature, there was no way she could have bested Satan, who had built up his godhood for over 300 years.

But the problem for Satan was—

He had just been personally attacked by Asmodeus. His body was not in fighting shape.

Because of that, the duel remained evenly matched... until it began to tilt in Belia’s favor.

Red divine power, blazing like molten blood, melted stone and sliced through the air like a storm, pushing Satan back.

“[You fucking bitch!! You fucking whore!!...]”

Satan’s voice cracked in rage and disbelief.

He swung Baltaluch with all his strength, but he could barely defend himself, let alone turn the tide.

Satan was a great warrior.

And because of that, he realized—he couldn’t win this one-on-one.

And worse... time wasn’t on his side.

Space was tearing open. Human believers of the Pantheon gods were pouring through.

If this kept up, he risked having his divinity destroyed in the human realm without ever striking back.

There was only one option.

“[Help me!!]”

If he couldn’t win alone, then he needed numbers.

His cry was answered—his followers began to rush in.

Heavy-armored Chosen Ones.

Dark magicians by the dozen.

Gun-wielding zealots armed to the teeth, all leveled their weapons at Kanya.

Gunfire erupted. Spells followed. Waves of armored followers surged toward her.

Only then did Satan get a moment to recover.

Healing his mangled body after Asmodeus’s assault was the priority.

He’d abandon the vessel once he returned to the spirit realm anyway—but for now, he needed it functional.

“[Offer me your bodies.]”

He pointed to several of his followers.

They wept with joy, declaring they would gladly offer their souls and bodies to him.

Satan began absorbing their flesh and power, eyes locked on Belia.

She tore through the hail of bullets, deflecting them with divine force, erasing black magic, cutting down waves of followers with beastlike ferocity.

He’d underestimated her, distracted as he was by the Saint. freёnovelkiss.com

If he didn’t deal with her soon, it’d come back to haunt him.

He was just starting to consider his counterattack—

When he saw the space behind Belia tear open.

“Ah—!”

“It’s true! The Goddess of War is here!!”

Armored in crimson-tinted plate.

A massive sword in hand.

An endless procession of women, dressed exactly like Kanya, walked out of the portal.

Belia didn’t even look back.

She smiled in satisfaction and roared:

“[Exterminate them!!]”

Every last member of the War Sect was female.

And every one of them—paladins, warriors—combat nuns from the Bloodstained Convent, obeyed their goddess’s command.

Right hand—giant sword.

Left hand—large-caliber revolver.

Gunshots rang out. Satan’s followers’ skulls exploded.

And then the sisters charged in with blades drawn.

The wet crunch of tearing flesh echoed in every direction.

“Goddess!! Receive this!!”

A High Priestess and head of the convent, covered in gore, threw a massive five-round revolver to Kanya.

She cleaved the heads off three of Satan’s Chosen, caught the gun in her left hand, and pulled the trigger.

Click.

Blessed mithril rounds, sanctified with divine energy, erupted in holy thunder.

Every shot was dead-on. Every slash more precise than the last.

Belia was no longer alone.

She was a living war engine, growing stronger with every breath, drinking in the explosive faith of mortals who now saw their god with their own eyes.

Satan’s followers were being annihilated—slaughtered like animals.

And in direct proportion—

“[Move aside!! I’ll handle this myself!!]”

The faith that had once flowed toward Satan began to rapidly dwindle.

Panicked, Satan hastily finished absorbing his new body and pushed his remaining followers back, stepping forward—but it was already too late.

“Lord Wrath must not fall!! Ready area-wide spells! Now!!...”

The heads of black magicians casting desperately exploded suddenly, rolling across the ground.

Satan’s followers, in the middle of reloading or taking aim, began to die one by one—holes blown through their chests, heads severed—falling to death without any clear cause.

Satan’s eyes widened.

“Anti-magic field? The—The Black Fortress!!...”

Just as the high priest of his sect—the one anchoring their entire force—had his head burst apart doing absolutely nothing, Satan shouted in desperation:

“[Find them! Find the infiltrating assassins!!]”

He unleashed his authority to expose the presence-erased assassins of the Black Fortress, but before he could react—

Belia charged.

“[You think you have time for that?]”

“[Belia!!]”

Satan screamed, desperately raising Baltaluch.

The fierce battle between the two godlike beings resumed once again.

But among their followers, there was no such balance.

“Where are they?! Where are th—!!”

The soulless rampaged through Satan’s camp, mercilessly slaughtering.

And amidst the chaos, the War Sect’s battle nuns began cutting down Satan’s followers head-on.

The Wrath Sect was collapsing—catastrophically.

And yet, compared to what was happening to the followers of Sloth and Envy—

They were lucky.

“Draw swords! Attack!!”

Thousands of paladins charged forward, cloaked in divine power.

“Ready dispel spells! Don’t let the black magicians cast anything! Once their spells are broken, they’ll fall easily!”

Over a hundred battle mages, scraped together from Mage Towers across the empire, moved in perfect coordination under Erfa’s command, intercepting dark magic with clinical precision.

And just like in Satan’s battlefield, the assassins of the Black Fortress were at work here too.

“[Belphegor!! Release all your collection! This isn’t the time to hoard! If this keeps up, your divinity could be destroyed in the human realm!!]”

Leviathan shouted, hurling magic at the paladins charging toward her.

Belphegor bit her lip.

But Leviathan was right.

They were in serious danger.

With a wave of her hand, Belphegor opened a new portal.

From within poured her countless, jealously hoarded “trophies.”

Once again, the corrupted Chosen from the Heavenly War three hundred years ago appeared in the mortal realm.

But the result was not what she had hoped.

“Traitor Kalantis!! Your name is written in the Heretics’ Ledger! Your soul will be obliterated!!”

“Veronica the Lewd!! You filthy, fallen wretch!!”

“Black Cardinal Maldred. Do you remember my name? My ancestor fell to you! Your name has been passed down in our family for generations—for vengeance!!”

Seeing the corrupted Saints and Heroes only enraged the paladins of the Pantheon further.

Their morale didn’t drop—it soared.

Fueled by fury, they charged to kill.

But no sect matched the rage of the White Sect.

“Traitorous Ketraltus!!”

“Heretics!! Apostates!!”

The White Sect had always been among the easiest to corrupt.

Their passion, their recklessness—they burned through everything, even themselves. A little push was often all it took.

Which was why Belphegor’s largest collection of trophies... consisted of fallen Legiones Ketraltus.

“[Eliminate them.]”

At Belphegor’s order, the Heretic Ketraltus roared and charged.

Al-Madai and the loyal Ketraltus tensed to leap into battle—but Iomene raised her hand to stop them.

Her eyes blazed with hate and fury.

The divine mark of Dulaneir, engraved on the back of her hand, flared with a searing brilliance, so bright it was blinding.

“[So... my traitors were here all along.]”

Perhaps because the rift between Heaven and the mortal world had been reopened by Asmodeus—

Divine speech flowed from Iomene’s lips.

“[I’ll make sure you never know peace again.]”

She gestured.

And the Ketraltus split left and right.

From between them came the sound of grinding metal, deep and thunderous—shaking the entirety of Talhaim’s Rock Mountain.

“[Belphegor. A gift—from me. The engineers of the Scrap Yard brought me something truly exquisite.]”

Standing beside Iomene were Ketraltus warriors, even larger than their brethren, clad in hulking full-body armor a head taller than standard.

On their backs were massive steel packs.

And in their hands—

Gatling cannons with six barrels, fused into a single rotating core.

“[Annihilator Armor.]”

Thunder erupted.

Light exploded from the cannons.

The Heretic Ketraltus and the Sloth Sect’s followers were ripped to shreds—armor and all.

“Charge!!”

Al-Madai and the loyal Ketraltus surged forward, wielding cannon-sized pistols and oversized blades.

Blood and screams.

Entrails and metal.

All of it spilled and echoed, filling every crevice of Talhaim’s Rock Mountain.