If hell exists, this might be it.
It wasn’t something anyone had said, but the man tasked with guarding this place and allowing no one but those involved to pass suddenly thought of those words.
This was beneath the Great Cathedral of the Capital.
It was a section where no one was allowed to enter, not even high-ranking priests, unless they were involved.
Only those who had dedicated their bodies and souls to God, were devout in their faith, and possessed skill were permitted entry.
However, such things could be faked endlessly.
An intelligence agent of the Empire, a man not unwilling to die for his country, yet who knew the value of his own life, had spent twenty-three long years acquiring the most elusive asset of all: trust from his nation.
He had infiltrated the enemy’s territory, risking his life to bring back a single piece of information for his country, and at times, had even tortured his allies within the Empire’s intelligence services to extract information detrimental to the Empire.
He continued to act as if proclaiming God’s name and convincing the public that it was right.
He possessed both compassion and ruthlessness.
He executed all who did not believe in God, and continued to save only those who did.
To others, he was undoubtedly a devout man, one who could die for God, and a capable individual ranked highly among the Knights’ Order—in fact, one of the top few.
Furthermore, he was appointed the Vice Commander of the Knights’ Order that guarded the capital.
A man who possessed both status and honor was now diligently organizing the information he had gathered over the past few days in his mind.
“Kyaaaaaaah!?”
A fragile town girl had just been thrown into the darkness.
Who had done it? One of his subordinates, under his command.
The death throes of a woman, consumed by fear, desperately telling herself it was for God, yet still dreading death.
Hearing that would undoubtedly make anyone’s heart ache and fill them with a sickening revulsion.
The man was no exception.
He hadn’t gone mad.
Although he appeared devout, his heart remained coldly rational.
That was precisely why.
“Oh, God. A new offering.”
The man thought he wanted to die just watching this version of himself, a self that wasn’t him.
What god?
Did a being that couldn’t save a single person call itself God?
Not a single subordinate could be trusted.
As if mistaking his words for praise, they began to offer prayers to God.
“Well then, who’s next?”
“Yes, sir!”
Every day, he continued to throw innocent, devout people into this darkness like this.
For what purpose?
He had to know, but all the reasons concluded with the absurd excuse of “for God.”
Everything was for God.
This concluded the reason for his orders.
Not a single person who fell here ever returned.
“Let go!? Let go!? I don’t want to die!? I refuse to die!!”
And this young man, resisting desperately, would surely not return either.
“To receive the honor of dedicating yourself to God while acting like this, what is the meaning of it?”
“Don’t mess with me!? What God!? What did you do to my sister!! You said you’d dedicate her to God, but you offered her to some dirty old man!! Is that old man your God!? Is it God’s will to be brutally murdered by that old man!? Don’t mock me!!”
This young man’s cry was likely the utmost, soundest reasoning.
This country was insane.
It was undoubtedly insane to its very core.
This young man, who could scream that, was surely justice itself.
But he was not allowed to praise it.
The man glanced at his subordinate, who, understanding his intent, gagged the young man.
As his muffled voice echoed through the gag, a hymn began to play.
Though they had witnessed hell, it was a pure song by boys and girls, as if blessing him on his journey to God’s presence.
The man inwardly thought how utterly out of place it was.
But still, he didn’t show it outwardly.
He didn’t show his heart either.
He merely clicked his tongue deeply, somewhere in the depths of his heart.
“To God.”
“” ” “To God.” ” ” ”
As if dragging the man who resisted desperately, sturdy knights carried him to the edge of the hole and then, with impetus, hurled him into the darkness.
“God, we offer a new sacrifice.”
And then they prayed.
The man did not know for what purpose he should pray.
“Vice Commander, you’ve been summoned.”
“I see.”
How many more people would have to be thrown in here before it ended?
He had thought that question had long since withered away, but the righteous words of the young man just now had reawakened his guilt.
“You all continue. Everything is for God.”
“For God.”
From this point on, no, this ritual would continue until the very end.
The work of endlessly throwing people into the darkness.
This was the graveyard of Holy Swords.
A place to bury the Holy Swords used by past Heroes and subsequently destroyed.
But now, it was merely a place of execution for pointlessly scattering innocent people.
The man, not even allowed to show his disgust, calmly searched for the purpose of this country in his mind.
He proceeded down a corridor, designed to evoke a sacred atmosphere, with a motif of white and blue. Along the way, he passed believers walking the same path.
Under the sunlight, the man known as the Vice Commander proceeded impassively, feeling nothing from its rays.
And ahead lay the Great Cathedral.
A mere knight was not permitted to enter the round table where Archbishops gathered.
“Archbishop, I have come as summoned.”
Therefore, when he was told to come, it was often to the Great Cathedral.
Only an Archbishop, the Knight Commander, or someone of higher rank could summon the Vice Commander.
Upon entering the Great Cathedral, if the summoner was present, it was clear who had issued the summons.
He knelt before a portly man and awaited his instructions.
“Four Archbishops have been called to heaven.”
Then, he inquired about what had happened and his shoulder twitched infinitesimally.
“Was that, along with the Divine City?”
“Ah, the Divine City fell to the cowardly Demon Lord’s Army.”
The Archbishop indirectly stated that they had lost, despite sending in an excessive amount of troops.
“Will you expedite the ritual?”
The defeat was undoubtedly sad news for them, yet the Archbishop was not disheartened.
This was undoubtedly related to the ritual the man was performing.
“No, it’s not a matter of simply sacrificing indiscriminately. Maintain the current pace.”
“However, won’t the Demon Lord’s Army, having repelled the Divine City, attack us directly?”
“They undoubtedly will. But that is precisely the objective. They will assume we have been defeated and are holed up in the capital. We will strike then.”
“Strike, you say, but there are few soldiers capable of fighting in this capital, and I hear the allied Kingdom has deployed almost all its forces in the recent battle.”
The strategy that only the higher-ups knew, the soldiers sent to the front lines under the banner of a holy war. The consequences of these reckless battles were undoubtedly catching up to them now.
As the one responsible for unifying the Knights’ Order, the man accurately grasped the remaining military strength of the country.
He could declare with certainty that they would lose if an all-out war were to ensue.
“Could it be, will we be granted new power from God?”
There was also the option of driving the populace into a suicidal charge by drugging them, but with the current ongoing sacrifice of those same people, their fighting strength was steadily diminishing.
“No, that is not it either. Do not worry, our victory is assured.”
The man continued to calculate what needed to be done in his mind, but the Archbishop grinned slyly.
He then subtly pulled a vial from his sleeve.
“Could it be, that is…”
“Yes, it is the Flame of God. By dwelling within it, one can gain immense power.”
A faint, dazzling flame swayed within the vial.
The man intuitively grasped what it was and his eyes widened, making a gesture as if in prayer. This too was an act; the devout man knelt before a divine artifact.
“Should the ritual by any chance not be completed in time, annihilate the Demon Lord’s Army with this. That is God’s command.”
“As God wills it.”
Everything was measured by God.
Laying down one’s life for God was an everyday occurrence; there was no need to pay heed to the Archbishop’s remark to go and die.
For it was natural that those who believe would be saved.
The man suppressed his doubts and continued to probe.
Having finished speaking his mind, the Archbishop indicated his departure with a look, and the man, understanding, turned to leave.
Or rather, he was about to leave.
However, the door was flung open before he could.
Upon seeing the figure, the man knelt.
How many times did he have to kneel? When had he last considered that?
The one who opened the door was a lady-in-waiting.
But it wasn’t that lady-in-waiting who held authority.
The entity behind her was the issue.
The pinnacle of the Theocratic Nation Tris, Pope Eld.
With pale skin and inorganic eyes that seemed to stare into the void, as if two golden glass spheres were embedded in them, what exactly was he looking at?
He was someone who normally remained in his own chambers; his appearance in a place like this was unthinkable.
“Your Holiness!?”
Indeed, perhaps the Archbishop hadn’t anticipated his arrival either, as he hastily knelt.
“It is a divine oracle. Listen carefully.”
He wasn’t even permitted to ask the reason, only to receive a unilateral declaration from a being of such stature. Divine oracle, was that something only the Pope could receive?
There was no choice but to remain silent, and the place fell quiet. Then, the Pope slowly opened his mouth.
“The day of God’s descent is near. On that day, we will begin the purification of the world. Gather the chosen people. One hundred children, both boys and girls, with pure and innocent souls. Enclose them in God’s sarcophagus.”
This was the information the man had been waiting for. His heart trembled.
But, he suppressed his expression.
The man continued to tell himself so in his heart. How many sacrifices had been made to obtain these few words?
And then, the Pope, having delivered only the divine oracle, as if that was his sole purpose, turned and began to walk away.
A presence that made one wonder if he was truly human.
But that was fine.
He had no further business in this country.
The man remained kneeling for a while, but upon sensing the presence receding into the distance, he gently stood up.
“Your Grace, Archbishop.”
“Indeed, I understand without you saying. I will inform the other Archbishops. You prepare the soldiers. The day of victory is near.”
However, to leave hastily now would be to return to square one.
He exercised utmost caution.
The movements ingrained in his body and mind always guided him to the best course of action.
The man was calm.
Therefore, he understood that even though the information required urgency, he must not rush.
“Understood.”
The information on the remaining forces, and the descent of God. This was information beyond priceless.
“Then, I will go and prepare the soldiers.”
“Mm.”
Faced with such value, the man’s expression remained unchanged. The iron mask of a devout believer was thick, and even the Archbishop could no longer see through his true face.
Many comrades had died to reach this point.
They had shared hearts, sometimes killed each other, and become the fuel for gaining trust.
All for the sake of obtaining this information.
Decades had been sacrificed solely to obtain confirmation through God’s words.
Perhaps it might all become meaningless.
But this was undoubtedly the decisive blow.
With this, the Empire would not hesitate and could “wage war” with God.
For a long time, the Empire, a meritocracy in reality, and Tris, which believed in God, had been like cats and dogs.
Their claims never reconciled, and for a time, they had cooperated solely to defeat the Demon Lord under the theory that the enemy of my enemy is my friend.
However, it ultimately served only to reconfirm that they were irreconcilable enemies.
They had shaken hands, but their feet were treading on each other’s toes.
They had touched with smiles, but their hearts were completely cold towards each other.
That was all there was to it.
The man, suppressing his burgeoning excitement, proceeded down the corridor.
His movements were indistinguishable from his usual behavior.
Therefore, even the secret police did not monitor him.
It was only the next morning, when his subordinate searched for him, that they realized this was the last time they had seen him.
Another Side
Today’s Word
Sometimes, you should act for yourself, not just for others.
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Pandora Pandemic Panic – Pandora’s Box Has Been Opened Again, But We’re Fighting Back with Various Things at Our Secret Base!!
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