While My Mage Wife Grinds, I Power Up Idly
Chapter 121: Like I Said, A Masterpiece

Chapter 121: Chapter 121: Like I Said, A Masterpiece

"Hurry up and finish off the remaining eight Grand Archmages, you dumb bear," Ashu muttered in his heart.

Dread of the Abyss wasn’t a zero-cost ability.

Ymir had only used the ’original version’ of the skill for a moment, and she’d turned pale as a sheet, barely able to stand.

Even though that ’original version’ had been elevated through the system’s Critical Return into Dread of the Abyss, its energy consumption was still immense.

Even for someone like Ashu—who could attack and recover simultaneously—it was difficult to sustain it for long.

Ashu didn’t want to completely wipe everyone out.

After all, what he sought was balance, not to lead the Demon army in exterminating humanity.

He wasn’t anti-human by nature; everything he did was for his own survival.

So—

On a subjective level, he couldn’t keep using this ability for too long—he feared he might literally scare the weaker soldiers to death.

All he needed to do was reduce the opposing side’s Grand Archmage-level combat strength to just two units—that would be enough to achieve balance with the Demon army.

That way, he could slip back into the shadows again.

...

At the same time—

Beneath the dome of the Sacred Cathedral, twelve crystal chandeliers shaped like angelic wings lit the council hall as if it were broad daylight.

The Pope sat solemnly upon the silver throne inlaid with star-gems, Holy Light flowing around him, making him appear like a divine manifestation.

With a wave of his sleeve, the Holy Light surged outward in a radiant sheet—but within that sheet of Holy Light, a single vivid blot of darkness refused to fade.

That blot was the embodiment of the unholy—Demon.

"My child... look at what you’ve done." His voice was that of a heartbroken father. The skin on the back of his hand was sagging and wrinkled like bark, aged beyond measure. Yet no one could question the power he held, and no one dared challenge his authority directly. "I let you run free, and you allowed Atras, the Royal Family, to run free. That is my original sin—and now, it is yours."

As his words fell—

That blot of darkness within the Holy Light suddenly projected itself onto the pristine floor of the Sacred Cathedral, taking on the form of a twisted, repulsive mass.

The filth writhed and squirmed... until it reached a young man of great stature.

He was immaculately dressed, wearing the coronet of the Supreme Bishop of the Holy Cultivator Guild atop his head, and the Sovereign Ring of the Guild on his hand—he was none other than the Archbishop, second only to the Holy Father himself.

He appeared far younger than the Bishops of the frontier branches, looking for all the world like a clean-cut youth in his early twenties.

Clack—

The Archbishop raised a boot, its gold-thread trim glinting, and crushed the twisted filth beneath it without hesitation.

"Holy Father. This isn’t original sin—it’s a conspiracy. I believe someone, some self-righteous fool, deliberately brought a Demon from the Netherrealm into the mortal world!"

"Still trying to argue?"

The Pope slammed the table, and a thunderous boom echoed throughout the entire Sacred Cathedral. Even the high-and-mighty Archbishop flinched in shock.

"If Rose Valley Town were under the protection of the Divine Mother Goddess’s Holy Light, no Greater Demon would dare act rashly!"

"Holy Father, I..."

"Child, I gave you a chance."

The Pope sighed in disappointment, and even just the shift in his emotions triggered subtle changes in the atmosphere within the Sacred Cathedral.

"Go and issue an immediate summons to all Twelve Demon-Hunting Nuns."

"What?"

"You’re not entirely wrong, either. It seems that someone has indeed deliberately brought a Demon into the human world. Whoever possesses such power surely isn’t targeting just a single Rose Valley Town. A greater calamity is upon us—we must recall the Twelve Demon-Hunting Nuns to guard against the unexpected."

The Pope’s tone softened slightly, with a trace of tempered emotion.

With his years of experience and far-reaching foresight, even without leaving the Sacred Cathedral, he could deduce seventy to eighty percent of the broader situation.

In fact, he could analyze things more thoroughly than some of the investigators who had actually been on the scene.

If someone could bring one Greater Demon into the human world, then they could surely bring in a second.

One Greater Demon had already cost them a Sword King—what about the next one?

And worse yet... what if the Sword King’s last-ditch attack had failed to kill that Greater Demon?

At the very least, based on his perception, a vast and growing darkness still lingered.

"The Twelve Demon-Hunting Nuns are scattered across the continent—some are sealing monsters in the polar ice fields to the far north, where blizzards rage all year round and conditions are extremely harsh; others are guarding wards in the southern swamps, where deadly gases and terrifying venomous beasts are everywhere. Recalling them all will take at least three days and nights. I’m afraid..."

The Archbishop murmured, putting on a worried expression, though inwardly he was thrilled.

When the old Pope had first spoken of recalling the Twelve Demon-Hunting Nuns, he had thought they were being summoned to deal with him.

Turns out, it was just to address the situation in Rose Valley Town.

He paused for a moment, then continued,

"I’m afraid it will be too late, Holy Father. There are twenty thousand Royal Knights stationed just outside the Imperial Capital, along with five thousand Mages of the Radiant Court. With such overwhelming force, we can surely crush the threat before the Nuns return. Besides, if the Twelve Demon-Hunting Nuns all return at once, we risk leaving other remote regions vulnerable to malicious threats."

"You are underestimating the power of Demons."

The Pope’s voice suddenly turned stern, full of warning.

"Furthermore, the current generation’s Saint has entered Rose Valley Town. He is still alive—at least, the Divine Mother Goddess has not yet descended in divine wrath. This is a trial for the Luminous Saint, and a trial for the Holy Cultivator Guild as well. He must drive out those Demons, and our duty is to ensure he survives."

Survives?

Upon hearing this, the Archbishop sneered inwardly.

Everyone knew—the Luminous Saint was a heavyweight contender for the position of Pope.

And as the Archbishop, second only to the Holy Father, he spent every single day yearning to eliminate that "second to one" title.

He hoped that when the current Pope passed away, he could crown himself and become the next Pope—

Not to see the Holy Cultivator Guild, which he had carefully built up over so many years, fall into the hands of a mere "Luminous Saint."

After all, there isn’t a soul in this world who doesn’t covet power.

If he had said no, it could only mean he had yet to taste the sweetness of power.

"Alchir Baishop."

The Pope called out the Archbishop’s name with deep meaning,

"Do not linger in the shadows for too long—you are a child of the Holy Light."

Silence fell over the council chamber.

To ascend to this position—second only to one—was already a testament to both one’s abilities and lineage.

The Pope’s words had an unspoken clarity of their own.

He knew full well that the man under his command was not clean.

Yet for now, he was still willing to turn a blind eye—as long as he didn’t remain in the shadows for too long.

If the warning continued to go unheeded, things would not be handled so leniently next time.

DONG~ DONG~ DONG~

The bells of the Sacred Cathedral echoed beneath the towering dome, casting an oppressive atmosphere.

A long pause followed.

Then, Archbishop Alchir Baishop finally replied crisply and cleanly,

"I understand, Holy Father."

But in such situations, the cleaner and more decisive the reply, the more likely it was false.

The Pope, seasoned by years of worldly experience, understood this perfectly.

He watched the back of Archbishop Alchir Baishop as he turned and left, silently furrowing his brow before closing his eyes in sorrow.

"Is it all fate... for him to appear at a time like this..."

After leaving the Sacred Cathedral, Alchir Baishop headed straight to the Royal Family court.

And in less than a quarter of an hour, Atras the Royal Family issued the order.

The moment the dust of the first cavalry rose along the horizon—it signified Alchir Baishop’s choice.

...

Rose Valley Town.

Outside the town.

Ashu had just helped Bloodbell eliminate six Grand Archmage-class soldiers.

Now that the forces on both sides were balanced, he was preparing to withdraw into the shadows.

Suddenly—

Dust clouds surged from the distant horizon.

He immediately activated Reaper’s Eye to scout the scene—and what he saw made his heart jolt.

It was an army of approximately ten thousand troops from the Imperial Capital!

Ten thousand troops from the Imperial Capital—what did that mean?

That was a force on the scale of a nation-level war!

The entire Demon army brought by the Greater Demon Shava numbered only six hundred to begin with—now, with casualties, fewer than three hundred remained!

In this situation, how could the Demon army possibly achieve balance against the Imperial Capital’s forces?

If the Imperial Capital troops charged and crushed all the Demons—including the not-yet-fully-recovered Shava—then this entire plan would be completely ruined.

And if they tried to repeat the operation a second time, the difficulty level would likely increase tenfold!

After all, a Demon of Shava’s level was considered rare even in the Netherrealm.

Let alone finding a second one—even if one could be found, how would they convince it to act?

Shava had only come because of a past connection.

But others?

"Shit! You dumb bear! Stop lingering in battle—fall back and defend!"

"Huh? Shit? Me?"

Bloodbell’s brain stuttered—he almost crashed.

"Fall back!"

"Alright, alright, I’m listening to you, Reaper buddy."

Bloodbell was now genuinely close with Ashu, practically seeing him as a battle comrade.

"The numbers are just too lopsided,"Ashu frowned, observing the enemy formation through Reaper’s Eye, concern flickering in his gaze."Several Grand Archmages... and one presence even slightly stronger than a Sword King..."

And at that moment—

The emaciated Shava suddenly leapt up onto the city wall, coming to a halt behind Ashu.

His expression was strange—it was the kind of look someone wore when they knew they were no match for their opponent, but couldn’t retreat for the sake of pride.

"I told you, this masterpiece of a battle won’t end in disappointment..."

"Shava, if you’ve got any forbidden techniques, now’s the time to use them. Otherwise, you’re all going down for good."

Ashu was convinced that Shava wouldn’t ask him to open the gate and send them back to the Netherrealm. After all—even if he did ask, Ashu wouldn’t open it.

"Forbidden techniques?" Shava’s goat-like slanted eyes turned toward the burly Bloodbell. His forbidden technique was to consume his subordinates like fruit.

But consuming Bloodbell now clearly wouldn’t restore his strength to its peak. On the contrary, losing a top general would significantly weaken the Demon army’s overall power.

"I’ve got nothing left," Shava said like a cranky old bachelor throwing in the towel.

Seeing that, Ashu curled his lips in exasperation.

"Well then..."

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