When the Bishop dropped to his knees in front of the half-wolf, his eyes were the size of apples. He became so focused on the enemy in front of him, on that half-beast that was disgusting and repulsive to him, that he forgot about the other threats.
Since Luke Lange didn't want to give the Bishop's mysterious powers a chance to cause any more trouble, he punched the giant right in the jaw in front of him, as hard as he could. The man's jaw crooked to the left with a single blow, in a way the Bishop could never chew again, let alone speak.
The half-wolf wasn't sure if something like this would be the way to stop the Bishop's powers, but he was already so angry and the timing seemed so opportune for something like this that he just swung in without a second thought.
Blood flew from the Bishop's mouth straight to the floor, forming an arc from the mixture of saliva and blood. The Bishop's arms were held by Hazor, and somehow that great strength didn't seem to be giving him any trouble.
"Looks like your muscles aren't as tough as they seem." Luke said. In fact, his hand was throbbing with pain, as if he'd hit a rock.
Head down, the Bishop's face was dark. He was panting like an animal. His breathing was ragged and he was sniffling desperately.
"Aren't you going to laugh now? Look around you, everyone who had any appreciation for you has been killed for your arrogance, there is no one here." The half-wolf wanted to see the Bishop's face of disappointment, or perhaps an expression of regret.
The giant lifted his head and looked the half-wolf in the eye, yet there was not a single drop of regret in his features, only conformism, conformism that had been overcome, conformism was about to end. From the corners of his crooked mouth, so much blood was oozing and he couldn't even close his mouth completely.
For a moment, he tried to say something, but only groans came out.
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"What are you trying to say? I'm not listening." Luke teased him and came a little closer.
Annoyed, the Bishop turned to the side and spat some teeth that were practically loose in his mouth after the half-wolf's punch. Then he tried to whisper one more time.
,m "What's it? This is an apology, speak up." Once again, Luke moved closer to the man.
In a weak, limp, trembling voice, the Bishop finally managed to utter syllables that were more than a meaningless wail: "Die."
That word penetrated Luke's mind as deeply as it could and tried to reach his subconscious. This was the power of the Bishop, the power of the cursed word, a power his god had given him, without him needing to do anything. If he wanted something or someone to do something, he would get it and even death was no exception, or rather, it hadn't been until that moment.
The Bishop was waiting for the scene of that half-wolf starting to spit blood on the ground and then his own viscera, but that didn't happen.
"Oh! Did you try to kill me now?" Luke took a step back, his face serious. He didn't expect the Bishop to be so insistent. "Sweesh! I think you're wondering why I didn't die now... Well, the truth is, I'm practically dead already, so this order won't work for me. I am already under the death effect of a curse."
The Bishop's eyes widened, however, there was one person who was more surprised by this revelation than this man: Meredith. She decided to approach after seeing the situation being brought under control and was appalled by what Luke Lange announced.
"L-luke, are you serious? You haven't had a relapse in your health in months. What the hell are you talking about? Haven't the symptoms of the curse calmed down?"
"The symptoms never went away, but over time it became easier to disguise it, I'm sorry. I didn't want to worry you, so I didn't tell you before."
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"And when were you going to tell me? I hit you on the head yesterday because you asked me to. I guess it was my right to know if you were healthy or not before doing something like that, don't you think?"
Luke looked at Meredith with a sad look. "Meredith, curses aren't as simple as diseases. At first the curse did affect my body, however, this has not been my biggest problem for some time. Although I still cough up a little blood at times, the curse is affecting my soul, not just my body." He tried to explain it on the way that he understood.
Suddenly, footsteps from behind the throne entered the room. These steps were slow, which gave everyone time to react and prepare.
Hazor used a half-ready magic circle to restrain the Bishop and firmly gripped his two-handed sword.
Meredith quickly pulled an arrow from her quiver, placed it on the bowstring, and as she pulled the string, she aimed it in the direction of the sound.
Luke bent his knees and got ready to charge at whoever appeared.
"Are you guys talking about a mana curse? Oh, that's very interesting, I haven't heard from such a case in years." A soft, feminine voice came from behind the stone throne. "If I'm not mistaken, the only way to stop a mana curse is to kill the caster. This is really exciting, don't you think?"
Soon after, the figure finally stopped hiding and appeared at the top of the stairs. At first, it was impossible to distinguish whether that person was a man or a woman, because he was wearing white armor with bright red knuckles, and the helmet of this armor completely concealed his face from it. The armor's ornaments were pointed and gothic, evoking the beauty of the large shields of Tanker's adventurers.
However, Luke soon noticed that the armor was not made of white-painted steel as expected, but literally bone. Furthermore, the mesh beneath the bone components was not a kind of tissue, but literally skinless muscle.
"Oh, I almost forgot to introduce myself to you. I'm the one they call God Sakan though, I hate that false name. If you can, call me Kalahad." The figure said sympathetically.