Fate and the story of blood

Chapter 74: Mother's Specialty

His legs were starting to wear down and it wasn't only because of his age. There was a time in the past when he boasted of his stamina during his time in track racing, yet not even the greatest of athletes could run for this extended period of time without dropping to the ground in a cold sweat. Their lungs would burn from the marathon long distance they had to traverse and that was no different to what the pope was feeling right then. Not even casting holy healing to relieve his fatigue could keep up with his pace and with everything weighing down on him, he decided to throw away his image for the time being.

He took off his wet heavy robes mid-run and dumped them on the side of the street, he tried to memorize the street as best he could so that when everything was over, he'd come back for it; that is if he was still alive at that point. With only his staff and the white light uniform he donned for casual wear, he rushed toward the appointed location which he had planned with Vendrick prior to his departure. He wondered right then if his partner would be right, he was fighting the one and only Eden, the person who had gained the title of an apostle and the favored subject of the god of darkness, Khonsus.

It wouldn't be a surprise if he ended he kneeling over to the overwhelming difference of strength but something told him that he wouldn't croak over that easily. The explanation of why he thought so couldn't be put into words but instead was more of a gut feeling than anything. Nonetheless, all he could do was pray for the goddess of light far above in the heavenly realms to bestow him with the strength to overcome his tribulations.

Running from the far side of the kingdom to the middle, he was nearing his destination, and looking forth, he spotted a couple of Dragonborn and corrupted individuals who had gathered around the perimeter, seemingly out of no reason but because their leader was present there. Pope Benedict clenched his teeth, realizing he had no choice but to engage in combat, an action in which he didn't have the greatest proficiency. He could defend himself well but the problem lay in being outnumbered five to one.

Though he was hesitant to fight, he didn't have the luxury of standing still and waiting for reinforcements when the task that was bestowed on him was right before him. He held his staff tight and pointed it forth, holy magic then gathered at the tip and as the foes before him looked forward and reacted with a simple charge to take him down, he fired forth a beam of light; the spell shooting forth in a straight line that penetrated straight through his targets as if they were struck through by an arrow.

Two fell and although he was aiming to take down three of them at once, it was too late to cry for spilled milk. Only a Dragonborn and two possessed were left and quickly evading a down forward swing of a blade made toward him, he blinded the foe before him with a piercing white light, staggering and stunning him for the next few seconds. Immediately, he jumped back once again as two tentacles were swung forth by the possessed, and with a higher-tiered holy magic spell this time, he eliminated the two possessed beings at once, thus leaving him with but a single opponent left. 

His enemy made no waste of his time and holding his blade out, he shouted aloud, trying to make an intimidation attempt upon his foe. Yet it was ineffective and with their distance being too far for any attempts of melee, the pope simply cast another offensive spell and the battle was quickly concluded with him gaining an overwhelming victory. Though despite achieving such a smooth win, he had no time to spend celebrating his accomplishment, and looking back toward the skies, there he could see the unrivaled ranker battling it out with seemingly no end to his conflict.

He was in mortal combat, defending himself against the countless tentacles that threatened to throw it out of his own domain of the grand azure skies. He was flapping away with but a wing as his torn one couldn't be used, at least to not an effective extent. To add to that fact, he was no longer at his peak strength as throughout the many minutes he was in the skies trying to fend off the incoming attacks, there wasn't a single second where he could take a single breath, less time to think of a way to get out of his current predicament.