The SSS class adventurer is a divine cleric-Chapter 74: Please don’t die

Kaelen’s hand lit up with radiant white light, soft at first, like morning sun, but it didn’t stay gentle. It pulsed, intensified, burned like concentrated judgment.

He raised his arm, the glow wrapping around his fingers like threads spun from divinity itself.

"Now this..." he grinned, his voice laced with mischief and just a hint of menace, "this is a special gift I made just for you."

The spirit-alira lunged, but Kaelen didn’t retreat. He stepped in, palm-first, slamming the radiant energy straight into her chest. A blinding pulse exploded outward, purging the darkness in violent ripples.

"I’ve spent years crafting this technique," he said, casually sidestepping a retaliatory swipe and flicking her forehead with a glowing finger that sent her spiraling backward.

"Based on every holy spell I’ve ever known. Sharpened. Polished. Custom-fit to deal with your constant gloom."

He charged again, no hesitation, no mercy. Each strike carried not only power but years of frustration, annoyance, and buried affection carved into radiant fury.

A backhand lit with <Purity Pulse> cracked across her temple. A low sweeping leg-kick reinforced with <Divine Judgement> dropped her to one knee.

"Oh, but naming it was a pain," Kaelen said, wincing as he deflected a shadowy claw with a glowing forearm. "So, for now... I dub thee..."

He raised his arm skyward, light flaring around him like a judge delivering a sentence.

"Ten Years of Alira’s Soap!" he declared triumphantly, laughing as another blow landed squarely across her face. "You stink of evil, and I’m here to wash it out, scrub-style!"

Neal facepalmed. "You’re the only guy I know who trash-talks mid-exorcism."

The evil spirit screeched, voice cracking with disbelief and rising fury, but Kaelen didn’t stop.

He danced around every blow, his movements sharp and controlled, every attack a lecture, every strike a sarcastic sermon.

And yet, beneath the jokes, the light was relentless.

This wasn’t a fight anymore. It was a cleansing.

A beating crafted from light, memory, and sheer divine spite.

Kaelen didn’t stop.

Because to him, this wasn’t Alira.

It couldn’t be.

He had watched this thing mimic her face, her voice, her skills, but not her soul. Not the quiet warmth she kept buried beneath her cold mask.

Not the weight of shared years. This was just another doppelganger, a parasite riding her skin like a suit and Kaelen had fought too many fakes today to fall for another trick.

Holy light surged from his hand once more, wrapping the possessed Alira in a constricting dome of blinding brilliance.

The aura pulsed with escalating intensity, molding to her figure, burning away shadows inch by inch.

It wasn’t mercy. It was purification. Exorcism by violence.

Neal moved forward, alarm rising. "Kaelen! That’s not a clone!"

Kaelen didn’t even turn. "Don’t be fooled, Neal. It’s just another cheap copy."

Neal’s voice cracked. "It’s her. That’s really Alira’s body!"

Kaelen froze. Just for a second. The light faltered at his fingertips, but then flared again, stronger.

"Liar. Alira would never attack me."

"I’m telling the truth, she’s possessed!"

Kaelen’s smirk faltered.

His heart clenched.

But he had seen this spirit fight. He had felt its killing intent. And he had told himself, lied to himself, that there was no way the real Alira could be inside that thing.

Because if she was,

Then every strike he’d landed...

Every burst of holy light...

Had been tearing through the body of the girl he had sworn to protect.

Kaelen’s pupils trembled. The spell in his hand shimmered violently, now uncertain.

"You’re bluffing," he whispered. "If it was her... I wouldn’t have touched her. Not even once."

The look Neal gave him wasn’t angry.

It was wounded as if saying. "You already did."

The silence cracked like glass.

Kaelen’s hands dropped slightly, horror creeping into his eyes.

He’d been fighting to save her.

And he was the one hurting her the most.

Kaelen’s hands shook.

The moment Neal’s words sank in, the light around his fingers dimmed to nothing. His aura collapsed, crumbling under the weight of realization.

He hadn’t been fighting a doppelganger.

He had been fighting Alira.

"No..."

His spell flickered.

"No—no—no—"

But it was too late.

The purification dome finished its course, sealing itself like a divine cocoon before shattering outward in a burst of brilliance.

The light left behind a smoldering figure, her body crumpled, smoke curling from her clothes, skin pale, blood trickling from the corners of her lips.

Alira.

Unmoving.

Kaelen’s soul stopped.

He was beside her in an instant, knees crashing to the ground so hard it echoed. His fingers trembled as he reached out. "Alira...?"

No response.

"No, no, no... please... don’t..."

He didn’t scream. He couldn’t. His throat locked.

Instead, he poured everything he had into her.

<Life Bloom (5x)>

<Warmth of the First Light>

<Restoration of the Damned>

<Vital Harmony>

<Healer’s Prayer>

He spammed healing skills with the desperation of a drowning man reaching for air, his fingers forming sigils so fast they blurred. He didn’t stop to think, didn’t breathe, didn’t care if he collapsed after.

Mana surged through him like a tsunami, but he didn’t care if he burned out.

"Come on, Alira... come on..."

A golden mist spread over her chest. Her wounds began to close. But her eyelids didn’t twitch. Her chest didn’t rise. And that terrified him more than anything.

"Please..." Kaelen whispered, his voice cracking. "Don’t die. Please."

He didn’t dare look at Neal, who stood silent, watching with tightly clenched fists. Kaelen couldn’t face the judgment there, not when he already felt like he had stabbed himself.

"This wasn’t supposed to happen..." he whispered, another stream of healing spells flaring from his palm. "I was just trying to save you. To beat that thing. I didn’t know..."

His lips trembled. "You know I’d never hurt you, right? Never. I’d rather kill myself than touch even a single strand of your hair, so please... wake up."

Still silence.

And in that silence, Kaelen looked at his hands, glowing with the light of a hundred healing skills, and wondered if it would ever be enough to undo what he’d done.

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