Revelation
Revelation
Saintesses and Saints. Together, they were called saints. They were beings of a different order than Heroes.
Unlike Heroes, who were directly chosen by a specific god with a probability as rare as beans growing in a drought, they were symbols of faith that could appear at any time in any religion.
The conditions for becoming a saint were unclear. You could be a five-year-old child, an old person past seventy, or even a prostitute.
Therefore, they were special.
If one had firm faith, they were living proof that the gods loved them regardless of their appearance or profession. The only problem was that, lacking a specific revelation, it was no small feat to discover them, was it?
Unless a religion had accumulated its own expertise and information over long years, it might never find them at all, leaving the position vacant for decades. Because there was no oracle or revelation; they were simply recognized when their Divine Power naturally stood out.
"Hey, cultist."
Even in a world where those who proved the existence of gods actually existed, I had to say that places where people lived were ultimately similar. Though they were worthy of blessing and served as markers of faith, there were times when they were not particularly welcome to the existing clergy. And, quite naturally, such cognitive dissonance stemmed from human ugliness.
Among them was one unique case that, while uncommon, could become an extremely serious problem: when a Saintess or Saint was a child.
Faith based on a child's purity was immense. But it was rarely greater than the faith of those who had devoted a lifetime to religion or had deepened their faith by overcoming life's trials.
That a child surpassed all those adults to become a saint usually fell into two categories.
A case where the child was an incarnation-like being granted a portion of their god's authority, fated to proclaim the god's will to the world...
and a case where others lacked the qualifications because the faith and purity of that religion had faded.
And depending on the religion, the latter could have repercussions that went far beyond mere vested interests.
"I-I don't know! I said I don't know!"
"That reaction is evidence. What do you mean you don't know?"
A fight. Right, a fight was no problem. After all, it was only natural once I'd resolved to answer violence with violence. But the problem was that for some reason, all those fights seemed like trials that Hero bastard should be facing. Get to work, Siegfried!
I strode up to him and began by smashing a soccer kick into his head.
The sudden violence began with a wham! The others, who hadn't heard my conversation with Sen, jumped in surprise, but that wasn't what mattered now.
"It'd be in your best interest to talk while I'm still asking nicely. Otherwise, I'll make you wish you'd gone to hell instead. Who hired you?"
The Demon God was called the Demon God because it was the god of the Demonfolk. It didn't demand human sacrifices, and it didn't thirst for blood; it was simply a god. It wouldn't discriminate merely because humans worshipped it, but naturally, it wouldn't grant Divine Power to this kind of false faith.
But they brought along someone they called a priest and used a sphere of light. Whether that was real Divine Power, I couldn't know, but at least it was definitely not magic. Because I saw no flow of Magic Power. In other words, there was a high probability that they were borrowing the power of something that was neither Divine Power nor magic.
An existence that treated someone like a Saintess as a sacrifice of a different caliber and could grant special abilities to those who followed it.
The world called such motherfuckers demons.
"Heh, hehehehe."
The bastard, whose front teeth had popped out from just one kick, gave an ugly laugh.
"No matter how much heretics like you curse me, I will go to the Demon God's side after martyrdom. What do I have to fear that I'd yield to your threats? To paltry violence like this? I can only laugh!"
Unlike the trembling 'I don't know' from just moments ago, this was a sneer born from hearing a truly absurd and laughable threat. The bastard looked me straight in the eye and shouted.
"Strike me! Cut me! And kill me! If I die and go to the Demon God's side, He shall reward my faith! I shall be reborn in the body of a mighty Demonfolk! Death is not the end, so we have nothing to fear! Cut off my limbs! Dig out my eyes and tongue! I will welcome the coming death with laughter!"
The bastard who had been trembling in fear, not knowing what we would do to him, must have become convinced that violence was the only means we had, because his attitude instantly flipped and he burst into wild laughter. The way he laughed, spitting flecks of saliva as if mocking me, was the very picture of a fanatic without the slightest shortcoming.
"You shall never learn anything from me!"
Cowed by that display, the other bastards wore sickened expressions. The kids were outright terrified and began to pray. Thanks to that, I learned one thing. The prayer posture of clasping both hands while wrapping the left hand around the right thumb was the prayer method of the Holy Light Cross Order.
Behind me, I heard footsteps approaching from Asilie and Sen. Amidst it all, the bastard looked me square in the eyes and laughed like a madman. As if he had already won.
I quietly watched that sight.
The laughter that had grown loud slowly died down as he sensed something was off. Little by little, doubt crept onto the confident bastard's face, and at that reaction, the others' gazes also began to turn toward me. Only after his laughter had fallen silent amid that growing doubt did I open my mouth.
"Ever heard the word 'madness'?"
I slowly bent my waist and knees to meet the bastard slumped on the ground at eye level. It wasn't a question I particularly wanted an answer to, so I simply continued.
"In this world, there's real madness and fake madness. At a glance, you look like a madman swept up in insanity, but yours is only fake madness—you can stand tall because you're certain there'll be a reward."
"F-fake?"
"Real madness... isn't like that. Weighing pros and cons isn't madness."
The cultist's brow furrowed amid overwhelming doubt. Of course, again I didn't wait for his words.
"I won't kill you. You won't die until you're the last survivor of this fake Demon God Church."
"What..."
"A force with enough leeway to mobilize thirty warriors must have many more followers. And this pursuit could continue. But that won't happen. Because I'll be the one going to find them."
"...Ha! You think the likes of you can handle the followers of our order? We were not even the elite! The true..."
"Alone."
"...What?"
"Me alone. I'm going to kill every last one of you. You think the night was why you got slaughtered so one-sidedly? You think that was difficult for me?"
He'd have a hard time believing that. He'd been out of it, not unconscious. The bastard's pupils finally began to waver again.
If it were merely a matter between religions, it would be completely none of my business. But demons were different. Those assholes, on average, got their kicks from wrecking the world as they pleased. If I ignored them as someone else's problem, they'd inevitably become cockroaches or mosquitoes throwing obstacles into my life in some form.
Even if I didn't have the talent to deliberately seek them out, once they'd caught my eye, I had to crush their heads for sure.
"After I've neutralized all the warriors, I'll drag every last one of you before the idol you worship—those who've lost the will to fight, those begging for their lives, even those cursing me. I'll drag all of you before that idol in whatever shabby temple you've built."
There happened to be a couple of suitable stones on the ground, so I picked one up in each hand and showed them to him. The bastard's gaze naturally shifted to the stones. Satisfied with that reaction, I smashed them together with all my might. With a crunch, the stones shattered and sprayed powder, and the bastard flinched belatedly at the debris.
"And I'll test whether the idol breaks first or all of your skulls do."
"W-what?"
"I'll personally smash them against the idol until all your heads are shattered. If the idol breaks first, then I'll grind the wreckage to dust."
Anger rose on the bastard's face, which had been wearing a dumbfounded expression for a moment.
"How dare you! Such blasphemy!"
His reaction was far fiercer than when Sen had committed blasphemy. This time his anger lasted longer, but because it burned so violently, it still didn't last very long.
Literally two minutes of hatred. I watched the bastard huff as he caught his breath, then continued with what I still had left to say.
"You will watch that spectacle to the very end. At the end, you will learn what you were truly worshipping. You will see it reveal itself using your damned corpses as a medium."
Amid the anger, suspicion sprouted anew. And well it might, since I was speaking as if I already knew what they were worshipping.
"After you watch that demon bastard get torn apart and killed by my hands, you'll die regretting—as I told you at the start—that you'd have been better off falling into hell. You'll die knowing that all you ever were was a demon worshipper."
"D-demon? A demon?"
"When that time comes, you'll know what real madness is. Feel free to look forward to it."
"Wh-what nonsense! A demon! You bastard! What do you know! Why are you making such guesses..."
Know, my ass. Fuck, all you know is human sacrifice.
Satisfied with the desired reaction, I uppercut the bastard's chin and knocked him out. After re-gagging him with the gag that had been around his neck like a muffler and checking the knot, I looked around.
"...Um, Eldmia? That... about smashing heads against the idol, you're not really going to do that, right?"
The others were staring at me with even more terror than they'd shown the cultist. Asilie merely shook her head, apparently having seen through my intent, while Sen asked with a playful smile.
"......"
"...It's not, right?"
Of course it wasn't, but since Sen's gradually fading smile was funny, I answered with silence. Still, with kids present, the joke couldn't last long.
"I'm not a madman, why would I do that? I was just scaring him."
"You startled me. But was there really a need to go that far?"
"If he's scared, he stops thinking clearly."
Anyway, since Sen and the others all knew their base, finding it wouldn't be hard. Later, I could try properly removing his gag, give him time to talk, and lead him into letting information slip.
It didn't matter if I didn't get any information. After all, just before I raided the stronghold of those demon worshippers disguised as cultists, the time would come when the guard would coincidentally slacken, an opportunity would arise, and he'd be able to run away of his own accord.
Once he was scared and desperate enough to stop thinking clearly, he'd definitely be useful.