Chapter 41
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: Death to the Fake Archbishop - 1
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Boredom is terrifying. It renders even the greatest pleasures utterly bland. No matter how delicious the food, I'd tire of it in moments, and no matter who I met, their mere presence would grate on me after a few days. That year, at twenty-one, I figured I'd sampled every delight the world could offer and surrendered myself to the Order.
One day, amid those meaningless days of mere existence, a girl came to me. She'd fallen deeply in love with a boy, but her innocence led her to view the physical desires born of that love as something filthy. She confessed to me that thinking of him made her feel strangely unhinged, that a secret part of her body she couldn't mention to others tingled unbearably.
And as I listened to her story, I felt a strange pleasure I couldn't put into words.
At first, I thought it was just basic empathy kicking in. Like how one child's wail sets off the others nearby, I figured I was just deeply resonating with her emotions. Yeah. That's what I tried to tell myself to brush it off.
But when I came to my senses, I was already ravaging her body like a madman.
Only after ejaculating inside her several times did I realize what I'd done. I bowed my head and begged forgiveness, sincerely repenting my crime with tears and pleas. But a girl who'd lost her purity to a man she didn't love wasn't about to forgive me easily, so I had no choice but to try another approach.
That was the day I first discovered my talent. Using magic I knew and a few tricks, I shook her resolve. Astonishingly, even as she wept, she promised to keep it secret, and I escaped the crisis.
But the desire that had awakened after so long wouldn't let me go so easily.
At first, I thought it was just the thrill of the forbidden, that sense of depravity. But as I stole glances at her body during services, I realized it was something more. I couldn't hold out a week before going to her home first and violating her again.
That's when it hit me. Why I'd grown bored of all desires until then. It was because I hadn't truly loved them. From that day on, I toyed with countless girls, raped them, and felt deep pleasure watching them break. The basic thrill of violating them, the conquest of dominating the helpless. It all came crashing over me in an unbearable wave of ecstasy.
After defiling every girl in the village, I realized this wouldn't bore me for years. This was the ultimate pleasure I could feel.
Yeah.
In that sense, I'm in heaven right now.
I reached through the now-familiar musty air and grabbed a hazy figure. A faint moan escaped.
"Ha... ahh..."
This soft, chewy texture was definitely Rose. Not her real name, of course. Just something I slapped on her. But these girls would share their bodies with me until death, so their real names didn't matter. I stroked the stem of that little rose, then lightly brushed the pink petals.
"Hic... ah..."
A little sob. Still feeling shame, huh? Strong-willed one. I liked that. The tougher they are, the more leisurely I could savor them.
Wanting to take my time, I turned and reached for another girl. I roughly kneaded the pale buttocks glowing even in the dim darkness, but got no meaningful response. Already broken? Even as I obsessively explored her privates with my fingers, she only twitched her hips instinctively, unable to writhe. Gazing at the flower snapped in youth, I gave a simple assessment.
"Gotta toss this one."
I stood for the first time in ages and picked her up. She breathed raggedly in my arms, nuzzling her head against my chest. Imagining a mother's embrace, maybe? If I could tousle that small, cute head and shatter even that fantasy... With such thoughts, I headed to the collection bin by the door.
Kung. Kung.
"Archbishop."
Suddenly, a knock at the door and an unfamiliar priest's voice. It'd been ages since I'd heard another soul, but irritation hit before any warmth.
"I know it's not inspection day. Who dares address me?"
"Forgive me, Archbishop Bobby."
"Whatever. Time to clear out the old ones and bring in fresh meat. Damn it. A whole year in, and you need me to spell it out?"
At my anger, the priest shut up like he had nothing to say. But he didn't leave either. I sighed deeply, glaring at the door.
"What? Got something to say?"
"Yes. It's just..."
Even with my implicit permission, he dragged his feet. Just as I was about to snap again, a classic line that chilled me more for its familiarity dropped.
"Big trouble."
"What kind?"
"The... the believers..."
"Believers what."
He mumbled forever before finally spitting it out.
"The believers... are protesting to put you on religious trial."
"What?"
It was so absurdly empty it almost felt real. I furrowed my brow as far as it would go.
"What nonsense is that? Why all of a sudden? Wait, wasn't I supposed to be in ascension ritual? Why me now?"
"Well..."
"Damn it. Spit it out straight before I gouge your idiot eyes."
The door stayed shut, but he gasped and shuddered anyway. Then he dropped another ridiculous bombshell.
"The Saintess... reported you."
"What? Say that again?"
"The Saintess stood before the citizens and formally accused you."
...
Sera...
Reporting...
me...?
Too shocked, I dropped the girl in my arms. Not a thud, but a fragile crunch, like something delicate shattering. Clutching my temple, I tried to process it.
"Sera... no, why would the Saintess...?"
"That's..."
"Before that. How did the Saintess get out of the Order? How? Past all those priests and believers?"
My head suddenly throbbed like it was burning. Just a headache, sure, but it felt like a harbinger of doom.
I'd locked Sera in the confessional for donation extortion. After over five years of being fucked like a dog by countless believers, learning helplessness, she'd suddenly step out and turn the blade on me? No connection came to mind. What had I missed in this year?
Then it flashed: Leo said he'd send a direct subordinate. Why no word? Not even arrival news?
Now my head wasn't just throbbing—goosebumps crawled everywhere. Just one year away. What the hell happened?
Bang.
"Ah..."
I shoved the door open roughly, and pure outside air rushed in, searing my lungs. Enduring the pain, I opened my eyes to see a priest with a faint scar on his forehead staring at me with trembling eyes. Deep fear in them, but not from facing me.
Trying to trace that fear's root, I stared at his face when a faint sound tickled my ear. One of the girls in the room? But it carried impossible emotion and power. Listening, I realized the source and looked up.
"My god..."
The sound wasn't inside the building.
It was outside.
"No way..."
My fingertips went cold. A voice from outside piercing the walls, even into this basement?
How many people were out there?
"Archbishop..."
"How many are out there?"
"That's..."
"Answer! How many!"
He hesitated, then bowed his head with a despairing reply worse than any number.
"...No idea."
...
Is this a dream?
My head spun, strength draining from my body. I gripped my aching head, then gritted my teeth and looked up.
"Can't even count, huh."
"Pardon? Ah... ugh!"
I grabbed his collar and stomped forward. Barefoot, cold floor seeped into my soles, loose body parts flopping, but I ignored it. Petty distractions couldn't enter my mind now.
This can't be real. Lies. A ploy to mock me. Who dares defy Archbishop Bobby? And Sera? That bitch who abandoned her friends and lied to her love just to stay by my side—what face could she have to judge my sins?
One year. Yeah, nearly a year since I'd seen the outside. Lies, it has to be. I steeled myself inwardly, but as I ascended, the noise grew louder. Still, I raced up the stairs and flung open the basement door.
The next instant, blinding light poured in alongside a massive roar.
"Death to Archbishop Bobby!"
"Archbishop Bobby, face the citizens' judgment!"
"Come out, you pig archbishop!"
Countless voices. Countless emotions tearing at my eardrums from all sides. No window view, but the sheer variety told me how many surrounded us.
A hundred? Five hundred? A thousand? The whole city? Each number I thought mocked me with louder roars crushing my body. Like the entire city charging to beat me down.
"Ar... Archbishop..."
A small voice drew my gaze: the priest trembling, staring at me. I gaped blankly.
"What... the hell happened?"
"That's..."
"What happened to cause... this?"
I let his collar slip, staring blankly ahead. Furious voices still rang.
"Come out quietly, you fake archbishop!"
"Where's my daughter, you demon!"
"No more running! Come out, archbishop!"
"..."
Amid the meaningless chants, my past sins sporadically surfaced. Crimes I'd thought buried under my empire-saving hero title. Karmic debts I'd never expected. All crawling over me now.
Or maybe just my delusion. I'd lied about ascension to vanish into my heaven, but it wasn't. Believers stopping pure donations, priests growing discontent. Even murders in the Order and Leo's warnings. I'd denied them, but they all pointed to my downfall.
Yeah. Not a sudden disaster.
Just the noose around my neck finally tightening on my throat.
"Archbishop..."
The priest I'd grabbed looked up and spoke, coughing.
"How we got here doesn't matter now. What matters is fixing it. Guards are holding the cathedral perimeter, but if we sit idle, citizens will storm in before day's end."
"...And?"
"So..."
He swallowed, eyeing me. Under my silent stare, his voice trembled out.
"You... should go out and handle it..."
...
I didn't answer. He waved frantically, making excuses.
"Not to face trial! Citizens shout that, but face-to-face, they won't dare. Go out, say the Saintess's claims are lies, a plot to oust you. If you do that..."
"...I'd lose my head right then. Right? Especially not knowing what she even said."
"Pardon?"
At my murderous tone, he gawped. I eyed him, then the other priests.
"You all think so too? That I should go out?"
"..."
No reply. They just glanced at each other.
"Fine, different question. Is that Saintess out there real?"
"..."
"Why no answer? Tough one? Asking if the Saintess up front is real. If you don't know, who does? Speak! Is she real?!"
I yelled, but silence. Yet I sensed faint affirmation. Makes sense—if fake, they'd bring the real one to deny her.
But Sera controlling this mad mob and pointing a blade at me? Hard to buy. Nearly a year unseen, but I knew how she'd spent it. Some scheme was afoot. And that Saintess wasn't Sera.
Had to be. For my slim chance at survival. She must be fake. That had to be truth.
Yeah. Has to be. Even if not, doesn't matter. She's fake. If real, make her fake.
"Ugh..."
I'd been biting my nails unconsciously; blood trickled from my hand. Staring blankly at the drops trailing to my palm, I looked up.
Wait.
Make the real...
fake.
A mad idea surfaced. One I'd once dismissed as crazy priests' money grabs. Still thought so.
But like he said, now I had to try anything.
"Hey."
"Yes?"
"Who let the Saintess escape?"
"That's..."
He glanced around, reluctant. But scanning the priests' eyes, I guessed the culprits. I smiled at him.
"Don't worry. Not blaming now. Just hope you take responsibility for your actions."
"Responsibility?"
I placed a hand on his shoulder, glancing around. Convenient tools were there. Of course—plenty of trash like me in this Order.
"Listen up. I'll explain."