Eden (5)
"Blind faith, you say…?"
Cult buried his face in his hands, his shoulders trembling faintly.
"And what if it is? The divine is the only thing left to me—the only thing I can believe in, the only thing I can cling to."
"……."
"If my devotion to Holy Power is blind faith, then what about you, Yohan?"
When Cult finally lowered his hands, our eyes met.
"You know nothing."
"Kh!"
In that fleeting span of a heartbeat, Cult restored his vision, and an overwhelming surge of Holy Power erupted from him. The divine radiance pouring from a Prophet who had claimed the Holy Relic was no mere morning dawn; it was blinding, blazing with the merciless brilliance of the midday sun.
"How does it feel?"
A crown woven of briars. Sacred Spikes driven deep into his wrists and ankles. Before us stood a proxy of God whose mere presence demanded reverent awe.
"Has your resolve truly not wavered? Do you genuinely believe you can save a child that even power like this failed to protect?"
"……."
"Do not torment Helena any longer. Let her be free from this wretched world."
"And if I refuse?"
"You already know the answer. You—no, none of you—can stop me."
Cult took a single step forward. With every pace he took, fresh wildflowers and lush greenery sprouted from the shattered ruins of the estate. The blood trickling from beneath his crown of thorns dissolved into shimmering halos of light, wrapping around him in a warm, ethereal embrace.
That was one of the game's final bosses.
The Prophet.
Cult Hereticus.
The sheer force of his presence shoved us back. He had done nothing more than take a simple step, yet the metaphysical pressure was suffocating. I wasn't the only one; Yuna, standing right beside me, was pushed back just as helplessly.
"Tsk!"
Realizing she had instinctively retreated, Yuna snapped forward and hurled a throwing dagger straight at Cult. He didn't even bother to deflect it. The very instant his gaze brushed against the flying blade, it reverted into a dull lump of raw iron and clattered uselessly to the floor. The absolute authority of Wholeness carried within his Holy Power had stripped the weapon of its forged shape, returning it to raw ore.
"Yohan… got a plan?" Yuna asked, her fighting spirit visibly shaken by the bizarre phenomenon.
Unfortunately, I had nothing. I had never planned to engage Cult in combat and defeat him in the first place. Regrettable as the situation was, no amount of desperate struggling on my part would ever be enough to stop him. If there was anything I could even loosely call a plan, it was only one thing.
"We have to buy time."
"Against that? Even if we hold out, what's going to change?"
"Who knows……."
The timeline was completely derailed. Cult had awakened into an endgame boss far too early, while Lobelia's growth lagged distantly behind. Even if Lobelia arrived right this second, stopping Cult's advance might prove impossible. We might not even be able to halt his footsteps, let alone defeat him.
"Still, we have to try."
"Yohan, I'm the one doing the trying here. Would it kill you not to say that so lightly?"
"You're the only one I trust, Yuna."
"Tsk… You'd better prepare yourself, Yohan. Once we make it out of this alive, I'm collecting every single favor you owe me—with interest."
"Assuming we make it out alive, of course."
If we failed, everything was over anyway. Cult's ambitions didn't end with toppling an empire. You couldn't negotiate a second chance against a monster intent on resetting the entire world.
"Haah, hand-to-hand brawling really isn't my specialty."
Yuna rolled her shoulders, loosely warming up, and dove straight into Cult's domain. She didn't even hold a dagger in her hands, knowing any weapon would instantly turn into useless iron under his sight.
She darted forward, closing the distance, and then—
"……."
The moment she crossed a certain threshold, she froze dead in her tracks, staring blankly as if possessed.
"Yuna?"
Cult kept walking. He didn't spare the frozen girl a single glance, his eyes fixed entirely on me.
"…Even I don't know what this is."
I had no idea what had just hit her. I hadn't seen Cult make any sort of move, so how could I? The only certainty was that even someone of Yuna's caliber had been rendered completely defenseless.
"Haah……."
Cult strode forward like an inescapable judgment day. Drawing my sword, I stepped directly into his domain. It didn't matter how little I could do. If I could stall his advance for even a fraction of a second, I had to try.
My resolve was rewarded with swift futility. The moment I entered his domain, the steel in my hand shattered into fragments of unrefined ore and rained onto the ground. My limbs seized up, pinned in place as if held fast by an unseen force. Yet curiously, there was no pain, nor any feeling of suffocation. Instead, an uncanny sense of comfort washed over me, wrapping around my senses like a thick, downy quilt.
"This is……."
My field of vision began to warp, reality splintering and bleeding into something else entirely. Before my eyes stretched an endless green meadow beneath a pristine sky, filled with crisp air and the sweet chirping of birds. A gentle breeze carried a sweet fragrance across the grass, teasing the tip of my nose.
And then……
"Yohan. What should we play today?"
A person who could not possibly be here.
The most radiant, cherished memory from that era began to bleed over my consciousness.
"This is… a fake."
Only then did I realize what Cult was doing. He was projecting a paradise. A world free of sorrow and anguish, where every single day was bathed in untainted bliss.
"Even a demon wouldn't pull something this sickening……."
I clamped down hard on my lower lip to keep from succumbing to the mirage. The sharp throb of pain and the metallic tang of blood dragged my drowning consciousness back toward clarity.
"Ah, of course. Illusion Magic was your specialty, wasn't it? It is only natural that your mental defenses would be resilient."
It felt like only a split second had passed while I was ensnared by the vision. Yet somehow, my knees were pressed against the dirt, and Cult was already standing directly before me. Lifting my heavy head, I found myself staring into the terrifying, awe-inspiring depths of the Prophet's eyes.
"I went through something similar fairly recently… so forgive me, but I'm not keen on falling for it twice……."
"Is that so? Then allow me to prepare a brand-new paradise crafted just for you."
Cult reached out. Resting his palm atop my head like a priest bestowing a solemn baptism, he whispered softly.
"You will no longer need to be shackled by a sense of duty."
My consciousness began to sink into dark water. Inside the thick fog numbing my thoughts, even the purpose that had driven me here blurred and drifted away. If I let my eyelids fall now, my memories would dissolve entirely, leaving me trapped forever within the utopian dream Cult had woven.
Right……
Even so, I had done what I came to do. It had only been a handful of seconds, but Cult's advance had stopped before me. And that brief, precious delay—
CRACK-BOOOOM!
—was more than enough time for thunder to descend.
Once again, I found myself gazing upon a paradise.
I couldn't tell how long I had been standing there, or when I had arrived. All that mattered was that every passing moment was filled with happiness. A haven devoid of sorrow, untainted by pain. Within that perfection, my senses snapped awake.
"……."
Standing in front of me was Helena, staring up at me with an awkward, sheepish expression. Wait… Helena?
The moment her image registered, the dense fog smothering my mind evaporated. Come to think of it, hadn't Cult mentioned something about erasing my memories? Just how much time had I wasted drifting idly in this place? A wave of pure irritation washed over me.
"Ah! You're back to your normal self, Teacher! Your scowl is back!"
"…It's called stress."
"Is that so?"
"Are you the real Helena? Or just another phantom conjured by Cult?"
"I'm real."
My thoughts were a tangled mess. Asking that question had been stupid from the start; whether she was real or an illusion, what phantom would ever admit to being fake? I forced myself to piece the situation together.
I was supposed to be trapped within Cult's paradise, so why was Helena here? Was this just another trick tailored by the realm? Was she here to feed me platitudes like, 'Even if you don't save Helena, everyone can be happy in paradise'? I shook my head, discarding the thought.
There was no reason for Cult to construct an illusion like this. Why would he bother restoring my memories just to present Helena to me? It was utterly pointless. Without my memories, I had already been blending seamlessly into the fabricated world. Which meant… if restoring my awareness was neither my doing nor Cult's will……
"…I suppose that's why you were able to undo the seal on my mind."
The one who had pulled me out of the stupor was Helena herself. That immediately raised a second question.
"How on earth did you end up here?"
Helena merely offered an awkward, apologetic smile.
"Gah!"
When my senses violently reconnected, I was sprawled unceremoniously across the stone floor. What was this? What had just happened?
"Yohan, are you all right?"
"Ariel……?"
My head throbbed with a dull ache, exactly like being forcibly jolted awake from a dream. The vivid images that had filled my mind only moments ago were thinning out, dissolving into an impenetrable haze. What had I seen in that paradise……? I knew I had witnessed something vital, but the memory slipped through my fingers like water.
"Yohan!"
"Ah……."
"Pull yourself together! I don't know what happened to you, but you're safe here!"
"Am I… still being brainwashed right now?"
SLAP!
Ariel smacked my cheek with considerable force. A very real, very sharp sting bloomed across my skin. Well, that definitely wasn't a dream. And given how much it hurt, this certainly wasn't paradise either.
"…I'm awake. Perfectly awake."
"Thank goodness. You were staring blankly into space this whole time—I was so worried!"
While Ariel's shock therapy had successfully cleared my head, I still couldn't fathom how the battle had evolved.
"What happened while I was out?"
"It's a long story. More importantly, what's going on with you?"
"Mine is a long story too. Let's just look at the current situation."
Gently lifting my head, Ariel set it down onto her lap. Wait… is this paradise? Damn it, Cult, how much more do you plan on playing with my mind?
"It seems Her Highness is the only one capable of enduring inside that space," Ariel murmured softly.
With my head elevated, the scene unfolding before me shattered any lingering illusion of utopia. Inside Cult's domain, Lobelia was tearing across the field, discharging violent torrents of Red Lightning in every direction.
"None of us can even approach," Ariel explained, her voice tight with frustration. "The moment anyone steps past a certain distance, their mind goes entirely blank……"
"I know. Yuna and I both fell for it. Speaking of which, Ariel? Where is Yuna?"
"Her Highness threw her over there."
"Ah."
Turning my chin slightly, I spotted Yuna face-planted unceremoniously among a pile of rubble. So Ariel had only bothered to nurse me back to health, huh? The blatant favoritism left an odd taste in my mouth.
"Ugh……."
Gritting my teeth, I pushed myself up. I couldn't afford to lounge on Ariel's lap forever.
"How is Her Highness able to withstand it so effortlessly?" Ariel wondered aloud. "I couldn't even manage to cast a spell from outside the perimeter, let alone set foot in that domain."
Her magic had likely suffered the exact same fate as Yuna's throwing knife—broken down and returned to raw, unshaped mana upon crossing the threshold.
"Yohan, is placing our faith in Her Highness truly our only option right now?"
"I wonder."
I narrowed my eyes, tracking Lobelia as she desperately held her ground within Cult's territory. Her crimson lightning crackled and struck true even under his oppressive aura, suffering only minor flickers of instability. That resilience stemmed from the defining trait shared by all members of the imperial family.
Red Lightning was far more than mere crimson electricity. That blood-red hue was the manifestation of a power passed down through generations of the Miltonia bloodline. An absolute conceptual counter.
The innate ability, Destruction.
The birthright granted to the imperial family was a power that crushed all cheats and unfair phenomena with absolute equality. However, the current Lobelia was nowhere near capable of drawing out its true potential. To be blunt, she hadn't even fully unlocked it by the final chapter of the original story. Which meant that defeating Cult was fundamentally impossible for her.
"As long as she buys us a little more time, we might find a way."
Bracing my hands against the ground, I dragged myself to my feet and surveyed the surroundings. There was Yuna, knocked unconscious; Emily, tucked away in the corner painstakingly implanting the Artificial Heart into Helena; Lobelia, locked in a fierce struggle against Cult; and Ariel, gazing up at me in wide-eyed bewilderment.
My work here was finished. I had done everything within my power, stalling Cult until Lobelia could arrive on the scene. My sole objective from the very beginning had been saving Helena, not slaying Cult. Slaying the villain was never my role to play.
"Yohan?"
"Ariel, I need to step away for a moment. Can I count on you to look after things here?"
"……."
"Please."
Forcing my battered, trembling body forward, I took a step away.
"Where on earth do you think you're going in that condition?!"
Perhaps it would be smarter to collapse right here and dump all the remaining responsibilities onto everyone else. What could someone like me even hope to accomplish, anyway? Yet, as long as there remained a single task within my reach, and as long as I had resolved to see it through…
"I'm going to drag a certain junior back by his collar."
For once in my life, instead of turning tail and running like I usually did, I intended to see this through to the bitter end.
Immediately after slipping away from the half-collapsed Ereticus Marquis Estate, I found Dietrich sitting in an alleyway not far from the perimeter.
Yeah, you bastard…… I knew you'd be here.
With a commotion of this magnitude tearing the estate apart, there was no way he hadn't noticed. It wasn't as though he had been tied down elsewhere like Lobelia or the Oracle. I had hoped to give him space to sort through his thoughts on his own, but with the situation spiraling out of control, that luxury was gone.
"Senior?"
"Yeah. It's been what, a few hours? Did you manage to talk things out with Cult in the meantime?"
"…Yes."
The Dietrich who used to make decisions with bold, unhesitating clarity was nowhere to be found. The boy who had spent the past days agonizing and repenting over his mistakes had regressed into someone crippled by indecision.
"Mind if I sit next to you for a second?"
"Senior, the blood… Are you all right?"
"And if I'm not? Are you going to avenge me by cutting Cult down yourself?"
"……."
Ugh, my head is spinning. Did I lose too much blood? Then again, unlike my usual self, I had taken an absolute beating today. The fact that I was still standing was probably thanks to an adrenaline rush. Later on, when the rush faded, I'd likely be screaming in agony like a pathetic dog. Which meant I needed to finish this before the crash came.
"Why are you just sitting here?"
"I… I still don't know what to do."
"Does stopping a madman who murdered his own little sister really require this much contemplation?"
"……."
Dietrich's knuckles turned white around the hilt of his sword. It wasn't as if he felt no fury.
"…Cult didn't kill Helena."
"What……?"
"I was the one who killed her."
Only then did my eyes drop to the blade gripped tightly in his hands. It was already stained with fresh crimson.
"It's no different from me having swung the blade myself."
Dietrich squeezed the sword as though he would crush the hilt to dust, refusing to let it leave his grasp ever again. In that single, agonizing gesture, the truth of what had happened became horrifyingly clear.
Helena had taken her own life.
And she had done it using Dietrich's sword.