Backlund, Cherwood Borough, inside the pale, uncanny world.
"Rumble..."
As if surfacing from the depths of the sea, a colossal, hulking warship burst free of the shadows with imposing force.
Its bow broke through first, and once it had risen to a certain height, as though dragged down by its own weight, the ship's prow crashed heavily downward, finally settling afloat upon the black "sea" surface.
This was a black sailing ship nearly two hundred meters long, its bow and stern curving high upward so that the whole vessel resembled a crescent moon.
It carried but a single sail, upon which was painted a black tombstone.
What was startling was that the ship's bow had actually grown a pair of curved black ram's horns, densely covered in arcane, terrifying runes. Along both sides of the hull sprouted thin, bat-like black membrane wings.
But that was not the most terrifying part.
The most terrifying part was that the vessel's main body was made not only of traditional wooden planking, but of countless twisted, contorted forms: the writhing bodies of innumerable demons, their souls fused together with the hull under the influence of some chaotic, disorderly law.
Across the densely packed cannons, across the pitch black deck, across the surface of the sail... the demons' blasphemous bodies and curse-laden faces spread everywhere, as vivid and lifelike as the most masterful relief carvings.
The Death Announcer, and the pirates who had once crewed her.
They had become one!
Under the power of Antia's angelic level, they had melded into each other, ultimately forming this dreadful, uncanny state!
This magnificent, colossal ship cruised above the shadows, and under Silas's command, bore down with a heavy, crushing force upon the "Saint Tenebrous," Kisma.
It was a spiritual dominance far beyond Kisma's own, the might of a soul at the level of Sequence 3.
"The Death Announcer?! Impossible!"
As a demigod, and as one of the higher-ranking members of the Aurora Order, Kisma naturally had some understanding of the situation at sea.
So the moment he made out the shape of this colossal ship, he was struck with shock.
According to intelligence, this ship was not supposed to be...
"Shhk!"
He jerked his head up, throwing back the heavy visor of his black knight's helm, his twisted face now filled with fury and astonishment.
"Who are you?"
"Who exactly are you?!"
he shouted.
"Haven't you already guessed?"
Beside the great ship, Silas laughed softly. He raised a hand and wiped it across his face, restoring his true appearance: black hair, blue eyes, handsome to the point of being almost eerie.
Kisma stared at his face, his expression growing more and more intense.
"Silas Londor!"
"Blood Reverend!"
he bellowed, word by word, and then suddenly raised his hand and pierced his own arm. Amid the spraying blood, he began to pray aloud, "Lord who created all things..."
So it turned out that, on the surface, this was an operation by the Church of Evernight against the Aurora Order, but in truth it was the Blood Reverend secretly pulling the strings, using the trap in reverse to launch a sneak attack on them!
He had to inform the Lord as quickly as possible, to beg for the descent of Lord Ouroboros...
"I already told you, your Lord can't hear you."
Facing Kisma's attempt, Silas paid it no mind at all, merely shaking his head gently.
The spiritual realm around them had long since been sealed off by his powerful ritual, and on top of that, they were trapped within this mad, bizarre world.
The "Saint Tenebrous" had no way whatsoever to communicate with the outside, let alone summon the "Tail Devourer," Ouroboros.
"Hahaha, hahahaha!"
Aboard the Death Announcer, every single demon's mouth opened in unison, letting out a terrible, blasphemous peal of mad laughter all at once.
That laughter echoed through this world, at times hoarse and chaotic, at times twisted and deranged, sounding both like gibbering nonsense and like a hymn of praise.
This shattering sound tore straight through the thick, solid defenses of the black knight's armor, striking directly at the depths of Kisma's spirit.
"Ngh!"
The "Saint Tenebrous" clutched his head and let out a low, pained groan.
The shadow beneath his feet began to churn, roiling like boiling water.
That laughter took effect inside his mind, instantly flooding him with a chaotic mass of thoughts and violent emotions: praise for the true Creator, terror at his present circumstances, fury at Silas... all of it crammed together inside his skull, until his head felt swollen and his consciousness screamed in agony.
As a madman devoted to a heretical god, his spirit, never especially stable to begin with, twisted further still, and his soul grew ever more aberrant as a result.
"Praise the Lord!"
Kisma let out a shrill howl and struck his own head with his fist, again and again, as though smashing open a watermelon, until he had literally beaten his own head to pieces!
His body collapsed right after, dissolving into flesh and blood that fell into the shadow and merged with it.
This extreme act of self-mutilation seemed to restore a fraction of his sanity, and from within the filthy swamp of blood and flesh, he launched another attack.
"Roooar-"
A twisted, corrupted mass of black shadow split off from his flesh and blood. This was his own "Shadow of Depravation."
Using this shadow, he could separate the corrupted thoughts within his spirit, thereby restoring a measure of clarity to his own mind.
The shadow creature that emerged looked warped and horrifying, but the instant it appeared, it made no move to attack Silas at all. Instead, it bolted away, fleeing the battlefield.
Was that thing trying to escape?
Not only that, Kisma also brought forward the externalized "Shaman King" Lamb, positioning it in front of Silas to block his path and keep him from pursuing that fleeing shadow of corruption.
He meant to let that Shadow of Depravation escape into reality!
Things having come to this point, Kisma understood full well that he stood no chance whatsoever against Silas.
All he could still do was send off the shadow carrying his own information, whether that drew the attention of the "Tail Devourer" Ouroboros, or whether it carried word of Silas's collusion with the Church of Evernight back to the true Creator.
Either way, it was the last thing left for him to do.
But Silas had no intention of letting him have his way.
"Whoosh!"
Inside his mind, an illusory tide surged violently.
The Death Announcer, which, being of a Sequence higher than Silas's own, had not fully submitted to him, immediately fell into line and accepted his complete command.
And so he descended onto its bow, and using it as his vessel, drove it crushing forward toward where the "Saint Tenebrous" stood.
In that pale world, the massive Death Announcer unfurled her sails and surged ahead!
"Ah-"
Kisma's field of vision was entirely swallowed by that enormous hull bearing down on him, that terrible hull carrying with it a savage impact and hellfire hot enough to burn his body to nothing.
He had no way to dodge, and the great ship, wreathed in curses and venomous flame, smashed him into fine powder.
As for that fleeing Shadow of Depravation...
"Sizzle, sizzle!"
Aboard the Death Announcer, every cannon was gathering its power, the pale blue flames burning ever brighter.
Standing at the bow, Silas merely took a rough aim at where the shadow was headed and swept his hand downward. He had no need to aim with any real precision, not with firepower this overwhelming.
"BOOM!"
The pale blue flame spread across the ground like some vast, woven carpet, blanketing the entire area where the Shadow of Depravation had been.
It did not even manage a single scream of agony before it was completely consumed, burned away into nothingness.
The "Saint Tenebrous," Kisma, had been successfully slain.