Rune Troopers: Self-Defense Forces Adventure - Chapter 0: Prologue

The heavy sound of an attempt to break through the entrance door echoed through the decaying temple.

It could be heard even in the square inside the circular cave, the deepest part of the temple.

The expressions on the faces of the injured and exhausted knights revealed a sense of resignation – there was nothing they could do to change the outcome, and all they could do was to prolong it just a little bit longer.

The Imperial Capital had fallen into the hands of the enemy, and the remnants of the defeated army had been holed up in the temple at the foot of this mountain for six days, but at last the main gate was about to be breached.

Soon the enemy would be rushing in here as well.

The Holy Prominian Empire, which had boasted of its prosperity for 500 years, now awaited only a miserable end. The Divine Emperor was no longer on the throne, and most of the elite Holy Knights and Imperial Guards were now ensconced in the belly of the demons. 

Once out of this cave, one could still see the red nightscape of the burning Imperial Capital.

“It’s only a matter of time before this place falls. Then we must put our plan into action.”

In the square illuminated by the faint light from the lamps lit by Light Magic, men and women, young and old, were discussing with expressions of silent despair and madness.

These were the people who had fled to the temple before the Knights. They were all high-ranking Priests in the service of the God of Worship and seasoned Mages from the Academy of Magic, all of whom were able to handle First Class Magic.

They were already prepared to die.

But they could not just perish. They did not possess such grace.

One man’s voice was heavy and emotionless as he addressed the altar in the center of the plaza.

“Good? Humuna.”

The voice had power beyond words.

“Yes”

On the altar sat Yorimiko quietly. The girl was still young.

She was dressed in a thin, white robe that revealed the lines of her body, and even as the voice called out to her, she held her hands together with an expression of profound devotion.

She had white wings, a sign that she was a descendant of the winged race, and a somewhat fake beauty that could easily be mistaken for a doll.

What those present here seek to do at this moment represents the deeds of the outcasts.

But for the perishing, it was nothing short of hope.

The battlefield, the feast of carnage, drew closer with each step.

Wearing black robes and hoods to hide their faces, the magicians lined up at equal intervals around the central altar.

Everyone chanted the same words silently.

Their words echoed through the cave, gathering, swirling, and blending together.

A light fluttered between the void.

Blood seeped slowly from the patterns engraved on Yorimiko’s body.

The girl’s expression of anguish was a sign that she was in agony.

Yorimiko’s face is filled with anguish.

“I hereby request the blood of the winged people as payment for their blood.”

The magic circle just below the girl absorbed her overflowing blood.

“Show this world the price of the otherworldly!”

As soon as the chants were completed, enemies flooded the plaza.

What followed was a one-sided battle.

Or perhaps it should be called a massacre.

The Knights had lost the will to fight, and those in robes had no weapons to handle. 

They were decimated by the army of intruders who entered one after another. They offered no resistance.

But then, the faces of those who fell down were filled with emotions other than despair. No enemy soldiers noticed this.

The corpses smiled distortedly behind their hoods and turned their vacant gazes toward the empty altar.