Chapter 446
Chapter 446
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 446
Chapter Title: In the Name of the Father (4)
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The sky was a dull milky white. The wind blowing in from beyond the wasteland carried no scent whatsoever. The Pale Castle, the grand headquarters of Nebula Klazie, loomed over the barren landscape like the corpse of a long-dead giant.
This was my third time here, but I still couldn't grow fond of the place.
"There's a limit to how bad someone's taste in aesthetics can be. Why the hell build a castle in a dump like this?"
I grumbled from the cult leader's personal throne, my legs crossed casually.
From the podium meant for speeches, I had a clear view of the castle's inner courtyard. Down below, thousands of devotees clad in white robes swarmed like ants. An emergency summons had gone out, gathering most of them regardless of rank.
Abel, standing before me, finally spoke.
"I hereby declare."
"Y-Yes, speak, Your Holiness!"
All eyes turned to him.
The cult leader's dignified voice held a power that could captivate the masses.
Abel paused for a moment, then closed his eyes and gazed at the sky as he continued.
"Nebula Klazie... is disbanded as of today."
For someone delivering such dire news, his tone was remarkably calm.
Maybe his spirit was utterly broken by now. Or perhaps it was my threat to shove a sword hilt up his ass if he tried any more bullshit through his underlings. Or both.
A short but heavy silence fell. Confusion began to ripple from various spots.
"...Disbanded?"
"D-Did I hear that right? What did His Holiness just say?"
"We need an explanation. And who's that guy next to him?"
The murmurs grew louder. They kept their voices low out of respect for the leader, but thousands whispering still created a substantial din. Soon, the higher-ranking devotees began voicing their protests outright.
"Your Holiness! Is that true!?"
"I-I can't understand! Everything was going perfectly—why...!"
The sharper archbishops and bishops glared at me with murderous intent. Looked like more explanation was needed.
I jabbed Abel's ass with the sword sheath.
"Hey."
"...I know."
Abel gritted his teeth. The pathetic wretch flinched even at that light touch. His pants, stained red on the backside, stood as a monument to his humiliation. His arms had regenerated, but the pants hadn't.
He took two more steps forward and spoke again.
"It's true. The cult has lost its purpose. The descent of the stars will not happen."
"Wh-What does that mean? Why not?!"
"Exactly what I said. The great beings beyond the heavens... Well, no point in formalities now that it's all over. Those bald idiots got completely wiped out, not a single one spared. Even the secret source of our power got destroyed. We have no vision left."
"That's absurd...!"
The bishop who'd asked clutched his forehead.
But it was too earnest to dismiss as nonsense—no rotten tomatoes or bricks flying his way. The commotion intensified, and now an archbishop spoke up.
"Your Holiness. Why did that happen?"
A familiar voice. I glanced over to see Lutansie there.
The woman who'd played the flying squirrel role better than anyone. Her wrinkle-free face and seductively curved eyes made one forget she was a witch over a century old.
"Did something happen in the realm of the great ones? Some cosmic disaster...?"
"No. Nothing like that."
"Pardon?"
"The world of those incompetent baldies fell to a single man. The one sitting behind me right now. Since you'll find out anyway, I'll add that one reason for the cult's dissolution is my defeat at his hands."
"...What?"
Lutansie's face hardened. The other devotees followed suit. The gazes that had been on the leader now focused entirely on me. Abel turned to look at me.
"Why don't you take it from here? Might land better coming from you."
"Hm, you think?"
He had a point. I shoved my hands in my pockets and stood.
As I pushed Abel aside, the devotees' faces twisted in outrage.
"How dare he...!"
"Insolent fool! Laying hands on His Holiness!"
Some loyalty lingered. They couldn't even accept the cult's disbandment—made sense, really. Not my problem, though.
I spat toward the base of the podium and spoke.
"Shut up, you sewer rejects."
"Wh-What did you say?"
"You vermin who tried to wreck the world—think you're hot shit yapping like that? I'll say this once, so listen up. You've got two choices."
I pulled my hands from my pockets and flashed a V-sign. Nearly all the devotees were frothing like a horde of aroused monkeys, but I ignored them and continued.
"First: Surrender and face justice. There'll be a proper trial in the capital. Treatment depends on your crimes so far. If you've been good little boys and girls, prison time. Otherwise, beheading or fun times with the inquisitors in Rodolan."
"Bullshit! You all gonna listen to this crap?!"
"Second's simple. Die here."
I swung my sword as I finished.
A pea-sized blade beam pierced the forehead of the guy who'd just spouted bullshit. The spinning projectile exploded out the back of his skull, taking his brain with it.
"Guh... th-that's..."
The corpse convulsed like a centipede on fire.
"Gasp...!"
"M-Marson in one strike!"
The area fell silent in an instant. The higher-ups paled first. They'd grasped the skill gap from that single blow. Among this crowd, killing just one with a blade beam—no magic—was no easy feat.
I spun the sword once and gripped it.
"Anyone picking option two, speak now. Honestly, this one's easier for me. Giving you a shot at court is just 'cause your crimes aren't at rock bottom yet."
If it'd been a year later, no choices. I'd have gathered them and unleashed indiscriminate beams.
Showing this mercy wasn't like me, but the timing aside, I'd met some decent talent in past parallel worlds.
One of them, Lutansie, whispered quietly.
"...Everyone, stay back. Absolutely."
"Huh?"
"We can't handle him. No way."
Cold sweat trickled down her temples. Her lips were pale from extreme tension. As the cult's staff officer, she had sharp instincts. Even the archbishops, though pissed, seemed to agree.
The blue-haired elf Anakuel nodded.
"Yeah. I don't wanna die yet. Rodolan sounds better."
"If not for the brats... What a grudge. Where'd this guy come from?"
"If I moved, His Holiness would suffer. No way out."
Anakuel, Alicia, the enhanced human Kylasis. All faces I'd seen before. Fantasion, the one I'd eyed most, was off on some mission, absent.
With the top brass hesitating, the lower ranks stayed mum.
Perfect, no time to waste.
I waited exactly ten seconds, then nodded.
"Good. I'll take that as everyone choosing justice. Time to portal out..."
"No. Not me."
"What?"
"You little shit. Who the fuck do you think you are, spouting that crap?"
A sharp voice cut in. I raised an eyebrow and turned. A red-haired woman glared at me. Another face from the previous parallel world, same as the other archbishops. Tieria, was it?
She parted the crowd and stepped forward, pointing at the podium.
"I let you ramble for fun, and you go on forever. So you swing a sword—still just livestock, thinking you can yap at us?"
"Tieria! Don't!"
"Shut it, coward. You call yourselves archbishops, cowering at parlor tricks?"
Tieria snarled. Lutansie bit her lip, unable to retort.
Tieria, Tieria. If memory served, some ancient vampire or whatever.
'Chopped her head off in Rodolan's lowest level. Didn't even see her technique.'
She glared at me again.
"But the most pathetic is you, Your Holiness. No, not even that anymore. If I'd known you were such a coward, I never would've joined."
"Tieria."
"Don't say my name, you disgust me. And what's with the blood on your ass? Did that little shit rape you or something? Kehihi...!"
Tieria laughed.
I was the only other one laughing.
Vampire senses sharp on blood, huh. Abel didn't rage despite the humiliation. What he'd endured the past hour was little different from rape, body and soul.
I sighed, smile fading.
"Sigh... What a pain. If you're gonna charge, do it quick."
"Cocky little shit... Was gonna anyway."
Tieria's face twisted viciously.
Kwaaaaaa! Her body engulfed in a blood mist.
The writhing blood formed a 3-meter demon shape. The ancient vampire form from old books. Tieria, in true form, roared like boiling molten metal.
"I'll rip both your dumb heads off!"
The blood demon spread wings and soared. A dark red trail marked her path.
Fast. Her confidence was no bluff—I knew that. Among this crowd, few could even perceive her now.
"Tch."
Unfortunately, I was one. I tilted my head; blood claws grazed my ear.
"What...!?"
Tieria exclaimed in shock. Already past me, she tried to turn desperately, but I wasn't letting her. I drew and unleashed a slash. Dozens of white lines slashed across the demon flesh.
"Uh...?"
"Hope you're the last. Seriously."
The blade drank blood. As I sheathed it, the lines on her body burst open explosively. Blood rained down, then nothing remained. Abel, watching, gave a wry smile.
"Foolish."
His expression mixed emotions. The devotees, realizing late, fell into shock. To the speechless crowd, I tossed two severed heads I'd prepared.
"Here, gifts."
"G-Gifts...? H-Heyaa!"
The devotee who caught them recoiled in horror. Faces he knew: Maron and Verminion. The archbishops who'd attacked before the summons, left in the castle.
"M-Maron!"
"My God, Verminion."
The shock soon settled into dead silence.
No one spoke now. I watched the quiet crowd for a minute, then headed to the lake portal to the outside world.
"Let's go. I'm short on time."
"...!"
Not a soul stayed behind.
Except the Pale Castle, rooted to the earth.
Glancing around, I muttered to myself.
"Someday, flowers might bloom here too."
The lonely wind caressed the land that would see no visitors for a while. The sky, severed from the giants' world, began to tint blue from its depths.