043: A Three-Minute Miracle
AD 52, May 26th. Nineteen years and fifty-three days had passed since the day of Christ Jesus's crucifixion.
The record of this day left for posterity was the sudden total solar eclipse. All living beings across the entire European continent were plunged into three long minutes of darkness.
In ancient times, total solar eclipses instilled fear and awe in many civilizations, each with their own explanations: a heavenly dog eating the sun, a python swallowing the sun, but also as a symbol of divine wrath.
"You... No, impossible... How can this be... What happened to the magical energy from Solomon's remains in the First Temple... I... I am the Messiah..."
Naturally, Simon was terrified by the sudden solar eclipse. Even his attempt to crush Novia's neck faltered. He stumbled back a few steps in momentary panic, pointing at Novia with fury.
"You brought this darkness! You make people fall! Yes, that's right, you must be Azazel!"
Novia did not respond, merely continued holding the 'spear' in a ready stance. The blood that had just stained it was already wiped clean. Even so, fresh blood still trickled from the corner of his mouth, and his lungs burned.
But he was indeed puzzled. Because in AD 50, during the time before his transmigration, there were no records of a solar eclipse. The last one seemed to have been on the day of Jesus's crucifixion. But that was irrelevant now. The current issue was how to defeat Doro.
The magical energy support from the Roman mages and his own reserves were nearly depleted. He was on the verge of his limit. The possibility of victory was slim.
But this was indeed a new occurrence caused by himself. Therefore, no matter what, he could not abandon the responsibility because it seemed impossible. Necessary burdens must be borne. Moreover, Simon seemed to have lost his connection to the magical energy source drawn from Solomon's remains.
Therefore, what to do next is already clear. Since so much has been done, even though the original goal hasn't been fully achieved, it's enough.
"Albion, with my last bit of magic, be completely unleashed."
A faint light flickered on the unknown mountaintop not far away.
That must be some kind of flame, Novia thought.
And then, a calm voice sounded here.
"Finally out."
Only after the voice of the Albion echoed in his heart did the silver-haired boy realize where he was.
This was a place that was nowhere. A world that was nowhere.
The boy blinked, gazing at the eyes of the strongest dragon, whose gaze was profound beyond measure.
"I don't know why, but the Texture covering the planet's surface has been peeled open."
"Hmph, you're lucky. That's why the strongest me came out to help a weakling like you."
A planet changes its physical laws based on the life active on its surface. The era once overflowing with mystery and magic came to an end as humanity became the dominant force, gradually declining.
After the Age of Gods ended, the planet became independent from nature. Covering the planet as its surface appearance and skin—the human world, and beneath it, separated by a thin layer, the "Fairyland" existing on the reverse side of the world, are both "Textures."
The cognition of the intelligent lifeforms holding hegemony over the planet, in other words, the physical laws—the Texture formed by these physical laws is the human world. However, the Texture enveloping the planet is like a thin skin that peels off with a gentle pull, a tablecloth blown away by a breeze.
To maintain the Texture and prevent it from falling off, several "Anchors of Storms" fix it in place, tethering it to the planet.
And just now, the Texture was peeled open by someone. Quickly realizing this, the Albion paid the price of damaging its soul to come here, because it couldn't bear the fact that the strongest itself repeatedly failed to eliminate such a weak, disgusting thing. It also didn't want this human to die just like that—after all, no matter how weak, he was still the contractor reluctantly acknowledged by the strongest itself. If he were to die, it should be by its own hands.
Of course, it would never say any of this out loud.
"...Thank you, Albion."
At the same time, a surge of power welled up from his chest—an abnormal heat that gave the illusion of his internal organs burning fiercely.
"Skip the small talk. Finish this quickly. The Texture is about to be nailed back. I need to return before that, while this arrogant bastard is still panicked and afraid," the soul of the strongest dragon said. "Just obliterate his existence and his world all at once."
In an instant, terrifying magic power erupted from every part of Novia's body. The boy's swaying silver hair, illuminated by the magical airflow pouring down to the earth, momentarily shone like a golden torch. His eyes gleamed with a trace of blood-red.
"This is Albion, the strongest dragon of the planet. Herald the moment!"
Excessively expanding its 'spear,' feeling the magic power filling his entire body, Novia wove his words. The densely gathered blue and red particles around him created an unprecedented level of magic power that could only be described as intense.
"I am the Messiah! I am the King of Israel! I am the king who will establish the kingdom of heaven on earth! I cannot lose, you lowly being, demon. As the Messiah, I must—"
This was a roar that shook Jerusalem. Shadows of the same hue as Simon's body surged simultaneously, squirming like living beings, resonating with a voice that sounded as if all who heard it would be cursed.
"The two of us will kill you right now."
The roaring thunder and fire created by the strongest dragon at the cost of its soul's damage raced forth. The rampaging magic power was released all at once.
This strike, comparable to the full power of a great god from the Age of Gods, engulfed the 'King of the Antichrist,' tore everything apart, and triggered collapse. The strength and endurance of mysteries were meaningless before this blow. The torn space was already a physical phenomenon.
Like the end of an aged, massive star, it not only swallowed the surrounding air but also part of the earth. The void continued to expand, and then, as if awakening from a dream, everything soon returned to its original state.
All the Jews who provided their life force to Simon Bar Kokhba, and all areas of the Holy City of Jerusalem except the First Temple, instantly turned to dust. The Holy City vanished without a trace.
Utterly defenseless. No one could describe this moment.
Everything happened in an instant.
Then, the Spear of Albion drew an arc of light, slicing it in two—
The miracle that descended here shattered the self-proclaimed Messiah, the King of the Antichrist, completely.
All that remained were a few specks of etheric light, and the Texture that had been peeled open for three minutes by someone was fixed again, re-tethering the planet.
Note: I'm new to translating so please be kind and tell me any mistakes you all find, I will try to release a chapter a day but don't expect much
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