The coastline of the Judean Province was soaked in blood, every inch of it crimson.
In the days and months that followed, the entire Roman Empire would not stop speaking of what had transpired.
That blinding, sun-like display of magical power.
That divine wrath, impossible for mortals to resist.
And upon it, the sentence of condemnation delivered by the Empire's mighty legions.
It was utterly devoid of mercy, yet brimming with divine love—
All for the sake of completely and utterly annihilating the foolish Jews who dared to defy both the Empire and God Himself.
In the past, the disappearance of four hundred thousand lives in one stroke might have stirred some sorrow among those who heard of it. But given the barbaric massacres that had so recently taken place across the Judean Province, few within the Empire had much to say.
Instead, they all echoed the same sentiment:
"They set out to wage war against the Jews. To ruthlessly put down these lunatics—there is no room for hesitation, no room for pity."
---
Jerusalem.
"All dead? Pathetic. Can't even handle those filthy Romans? Then let them die."
Seated within the First Temple—the ancient magical workshop once built by the Magus King Solomon himself—Bar Kokhba, hailed by his followers as the "Messiah Returned," listened to his subordinates report the crushing defeat on the front lines with an utterly indifferent expression.
"So many dead, and those damn corpse-creatures didn't even take the opportunity to fan the flames. Truly disappointing. After all the groundwork I laid for them…"
What Bar Kokhba didn't know was that, at the same time Novia had persuaded Emperor Claudius to order the complete encirclement of the Judean Province, he had also secretly contacted the Twenty-Seventh Dead Apostle Ancestor—Kovac—with explicit instructions: "Not a single Dead Apostle is to enter the blood-soaked lands of Judea. Not even those of your own rank. Block them all."
"And what did the Burial Agency say? I told them to take Novia's head—what was their reply?"
"...Lord Narbareck said this is an internal Church matter. They refuse to intervene…"
"Hah… even the so-called Messiah's command goes ignored now? The world truly is overrun with heretics. God's will for my return is more necessary than ever."
Bar Kokhba let out a cold laugh. After a moment, he turned back to his subordinate.
"What's the population in Jerusalem now?"
"Due to the Romans' ruthless slaughter, countless people have been flooding into the Holy City. At present, nearly 1.2 million. We're approaching capacity."
After Novia's decisive massacre along the coastline, the Roman forces had split into three groups, surrounding Jerusalem from all sides, preparing for the final assault.
"Good. We can use some of them for firewood." Bar Kokhba sat lazily upon his throne and waved his hand dismissively.
"Within the day, identify anyone who has never killed a Roman or members of other races. Have them cut off a finger as a vow of loyalty. Also, gather the old, weak, and sick within the Temple. That is the decree of the one true Messiah."
"Yes, O Most High Messiah. Your every word is law. Under your leadership, we shall destroy all inferior beings beyond our kind!"
Some time later, Bar Kokhba rose from his seat, expression blank. He made his way through the Temple's underground passages, arriving at a vast, cavernous space hidden beneath Jerusalem.
Jerusalem—the holy land that had existed since the Age of Gods—shrouded by layers of magical wards, protected by the vast power of the Holy Domain, a fortress that could deceive even the laws of nature itself… And yet, how had such a place fallen to the filth of the Romans in the past?
How had the chosen people of God been so humiliated?
It wasn't because the Romans were too strong—no. It was because they lacked him, the true Messiah. That was Bar Kokhba's unwavering belief.
The Age of Gods had ended. The magic of Judea's mages could no longer maintain the full-scale defenses of the Holy City?
What a joke. Human life itself is the greatest magical resource.
What's more, during his occupation of Jerusalem, Bar Kokhba had discovered the corpse of the Magus King Solomon. An invaluable source of "fuel."
Yet along with it, he also discovered a mass of writhing, mud-like filth—an unnamed, twisted magical entity slowly taking form.
His fellow magi did not understand the true nature of this filth. Most advised that it be destroyed immediately.
But Bar Kokhba was utterly fascinated.
"I am the Messiah. Even if the Magus King still lived, he would kneel before me!"
A few dissenting magi had protested.
So Bar Kokhba executed them. Their families too.
The twisted magical mass was then grafted onto Bazdilo's body. With human life and Solomon's corpse as fuel, its power only continued to grow.
"Only thirty thousand? Barely acceptable." Bar Kokhba mused. "To usher in the Messiah's glory… Every true believer must be properly utilized."
Night fell. The abyss yawned wide.
The thirty thousand gathered at Bar Kokhba's command were herded deep beneath Jerusalem—into its hidden, lightless underbelly. A domain of shadows in the truest sense.
Bar Kokhba smiled serenely, casting a gentle, almost affectionate gaze over the crowd—as though admiring treasured possessions, as though lovingly caressing his beloved pets.
"Rejoice, my faithful. Soon, you will attain unparalleled worth."
"In the face of divine vengeance against the lowborn filth beyond our walls… your sacrifice is but a trivial price."
"But because your deaths will be the catalyst for Heaven on Earth, I, your Messiah, am eternally grateful to you all."
At his words, the thirty thousand—long since driven to fanatic madness by his manipulation—fell upon each other in a frenzy of slaughter. Amidst the shadows, with faces twisted in pious ecstasy, they butchered each other one by one.
"Rejoice, sing your praises. Even you insignificant worms can serve the will of the Almighty Messiah."
Bar Kokhba's entire body radiated with warped magical energy, his voice cracking with a faint, deranged distortion.
"To call me Antichrist? The Enemy of God? Hahahahaha…"
"I am the Anointed One! And you, the blasphemous heretic Novia… when you set foot in Jerusalem, I, the Messiah, will make you suffer a punishment far crueler than what the traitor Jesus endured!"