Chapter 604: A New God
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 604: A New God
Esther gazed into the blue eyes that mirrored her own.
Had it been anyone else, she would have gouged out their eyes and more—but with this man, it was different.
She could tell just by looking at him. As he had said, he harbored no ulterior motives beyond restoring her body heat. Only pure sincerity dwelled within those depths.
Above all, she remembered that she was the one who had asked him to hold her before she lost consciousness.
"Right."
Esther spoke softly as she assessed her condition. The flow of her mana? Stable. What about the curse that had chilled her to the bone? Although the frost of Del Grecher, the master of the permafrost, had seeped into her soul due to her reckless use of a borrowing spell, it was now completely gone. Warmth circulated through her limbs.
"I'm cured now."
Esther rose from the bed, picked up the robe resting on the chair beside it, and slipped it on.
Encrid watched as the blue light of dawn streamed through the window, illuminating her silhouette. The movement of donning the robe briefly revealed the pale lines of her back.
Her skin caught the light as the fabric rustled softly. Having held her for days, her scent—which had lingered around him the entire time—brushed past the tip of his nose once more.
It was a fragrance like drifting off to sleep under a starry sky, caressed by a pleasant, cool breeze. If one were to distill a perfume from Esther’s essence, "Night Sky" would be the perfect name.
Esther shivered slightly. Though she claimed to be cured, leaving his warm embrace made her feel the sudden bite of the morning air.
She glanced back at Encrid, who sat shirtless on the bed. That embrace had indeed been very warm. In her dreams, Esther had been lying in a field of flowers, enveloped in a pleasant, radiant heat.
The warmth, the scent—everything had been so comforting.
The scent of sunlight.
A fragrance of sunlight, similar to the smell of sun-dried linen, lingered at the tip of her nose as well.
Looking at Encrid, who was still watching her from the bed, Esther spoke.
"Take good care of your eyes."
"Of course."
It was a lighthearted joke, a nod to her reputation. But remembering the intimacy of her dream made her feel uncharacteristically self-conscious, so Esther transformed into a panther.
Her robe melded into her skin, turning into sleek fur. While her blue eyes remained unchanged, her body lowered, taking the form of a powerful four-legged beast.
"Why the change?" Encrid asked.
The panther merely gestured with her head, indicating she was leaving first, and padded out of the room.
Encrid watched her go with a blank expression and shrugged. From the adjacent bed, Luagarne puffed out her cheeks and spoke. Puffed cheeks were the Frok equivalent of a smile. By now, Encrid could more or less discern the nuances of Frok expressions.
"She is embarrassed," Luagarne said, her cheeks still rounded.
"Who?"
"Esther."
The witch Esther, the Black Flower, the woman possessed of the bizarre hobby of gouging out the eyes of anyone who dared look at her body. That Esther was embarrassed? Encrid hadn't sensed any such thing.
"Good-looking people never realize the impact of their actions. Tsk. You are a sinner," Luagarne remarked, puffing her cheeks repeatedly. She seemed to find something highly amusing all by herself.
"What are you talking about?"
"Just stating a fact. It will be exciting to see how things unfold later. Don't worry about me, though. Froks do not place any value on physical love. If I ever wish to bear offspring, I will simply find a suitable male Frok."
"Did I even say anything to prompt that?"
"I'm just saying."
Luagarne repeated herself, ending the conversation. Encrid stayed in the city for one more day.
*
The cultists' gatherings had vanished without a trace. It was only natural, considering a certain Frok went absolutely feral whenever she laid eyes on one.
With the criminal guild dismantled, a few thugs had emerged, swaggering around and demanding protection money, but the Castellan caught them and had them whipped without mercy.
"Squeal! Stop, stop! I'll work honestly!"
The screams of the whipped thugs echoed through the city for a while like background music. Castellan Louis's policy was clear: now that he had reorganized his troops, anyone who stepped out of line would be beaten into submission.
It was none of Encrid's business. He'll handle it well on his own.
The matter was out of his hands now.
Inside the mansion, there were a few jewels that the vampire and the administrator had amassed. The Castellan gathered them all and brought them over as Encrid prepared to leave.
"Please accept this."
It was only natural to be compensated for one's labor. Since he had taken on a request, he should receive his payment. However, there was no law stating that payment had to be in jewels and krona.
Encrid knew that the Castellan would have to weather countless storms in the future. To overcome those waves, he would need resources. While the chest in the Castellan's hands was merely a fee to Encrid, to the Castellan and his city, it represented tomorrow's meal.
Knowing this, he could not bring himself to accept it. Besides, he believed he had already been compensated.
"I have already received my payment."
"Please, taking at least this will put my mind at ease."
"Wouldn't it be better spent on rebuilding the city?"
It was the simple truth. The Castellan had gone to great lengths to prepare the chest. He hadn't even had the time to organize it properly; valuable items had simply been thrown in haphazardly.
"I told you, I've already received it," Encrid said once more.
Just last night, Delma had come to him and said: "Thank you."
Those simple words.
Encrid believed the value contained in those words far exceeded that of the chest. And Delma hadn't been the only one. Everyone who knew what he had done had come to find him and said the same.
"Thank you. For saving my child," said the innkeeper, who had rescued and raised a child who shared none of his blood.
"Thank you! Once I build my boat, I'll let you be the very first to ride it!" said the foolish yet, in his own way, wise man.
"Th-thank you," a certain child's mother had also whispered her gratitude.
And now, even the Castellan bowed his head.
"I offer you my deepest gratitude, Sir. If there ever comes a day when you need my help, I will offer whatever meager assistance I can. Even if it means risking my life."
One could feel his sincerity without it being spoken aloud. It did not matter if the color of that sincerity faded with time. On the contrary, as time passed, the Castellan might feel an even stronger desire to express his gratitude. All of that could only be known by living through tomorrow, and the tomorrow after that.
Having heard their words, Encrid walked out of the city. Still receiving uneasy and cold glances from some, he departed Cross Guard. Though not all the looks directed at him were friendly, Encrid was deeply satisfied with how things had turned out.
For this city would still welcome tomorrow's sun. That was what truly satisfied him.
*
He would later hear from Esther that she had killed an Apostle.
This event served to stir up the cultists scattered across the entire continent. They began to scheme in a highly peculiar manner—something neither Encrid nor Krais had anticipated.
*
"A revelation has descended. This is the task God has bestowed upon me."
Overdear finally stood face-to-face with the Archbishop, the woman who had ultimately betrayed and exploited God.
Among the crusaders guarding her, two who had been severely brainwashed had blocked his path until the very end. He had just finished beating them down.
"Sir Overdear."
The Archbishop was a woman in her fifties. She wore an expression of profound regret. With the corners of her eyes drooping, she spoke as if in deep anguish.
"Why are you doing this? What is left for you if you stand against the Holy Order? Is all of this truly worth discarding your honor as a paladin?"
The Archbishop spoke of Overdear's honor, but looking deeper, she was not merely talking about reputation.
"Do you truly have nothing left to protect? Is that it?" she asked again.
Her underlying message was clear: Was what he was doing worth throwing away a lifetime of accumulated honor? Could he not just leave the rotten fruit alone? Could he not simply stand with the ruling class and watch from the sidelines?
Ah.
He could not do that. Even if it was nothing more than an old man's stubbornness. He could no longer stand by and watch the foundation he had built rot away.
"It is a revelation."
As he answered, the Archbishop closed her eyes, her throat gripped tightly in his hand.
"A curse upon all who betray me..."
The Archbishop smiled faintly even as she died. She was a truly dreadful woman. With a sharp snap, her neck broke, and her tongue lolled out. It was an instantaneous execution, giving her no time to utter a spell.
"Phew."
Overdear let out a sigh of relief, having crossed a major hurdle.
It was a dilapidated, ancient mansion—a place that could well be called abandoned. Here, the Archbishop had tormented many people using spells akin to sorcery. She possessed the ability to control from afar anyone who had spent a certain amount of time with her.
While she herself dubbed the ability "Penance," Overdear called it "Torture."
It forced victims to lash their own bodies with whips against their will, robbed them of sleep, and prevented them from eating. It was an ability that coerced them into the penance they would normally perform voluntarily for training.
Could such a thing exist among pure divine spells? Absolutely not. This was a kind of curse combined with Western sorcery.
The problem was that Overdear's wife, Rona, was among those controlled by the Archbishop. This was why the Archbishop had subtly threatened him when discussing his honor. The moment he resolved to expose the corruption within the Holy Order, he knew Rona would be in danger.
It was a fatal vulnerability. Thus, he had needed someone else—someone who could act in his stead. Someone to get the job done while he drew the Archbishop's attention.
"Is it over now?" that person asked.
He possessed a massive build fitting his nickname, the Bear Beastman. The divine power within his body surpassed even Overdear's own. Without a doubt, no one within the Holy Order possessed such talent.
"It is not the end, but the beginning."
"But my part in this is finished, right?"
"Indeed. Now you must attend to other matters."
"Do you have no doubts?" Audin asked abruptly.
Despite his rugged appearance, he was quite sharp. Overdear caught the intent behind the question and asked back, "Do you mean that following the revelation was too easy?"
Overdear had felt it too. Things had gone far too smoothly. The Archbishop had revealed herself too easily, and the crusaders' guard had been lax. No matter how outstanding Audin's skills were, this had been too simple.
"Yes, exactly, you old brother who loves to brag about his wife."
Because Overdear had constantly boasted about his wife's virtues during their journey, Audin had quickly given him that nickname. Overdear took it as a compliment. He addressed only the question of whether he had doubts.
"It was something that had to be done. Even if someone engineered this, it was unavoidable."
If left alone, his identity would have been exposed, and his wife would have lost her life to the forced penance. Thus, he could not stop. Even if it meant losing his wife, it was still a duty he had to perform. For this was about protecting the foundation he had built.
Even so, the thought of losing his wife was utterly abhorrent. Therefore, he was immensely grateful for Audin's timely appearance.
May the Lord guide us.
While Overdear prayed silently, Audin nodded. He had sensed some covert assistance midway through the operation. Although he got the feeling that this help did not stem from goodwill, there was nothing he could do about it.
"I shall take my leave now, then."
"I won't see you out."
It was the end of their brief companionship. Audin turned around, and his intuition proved correct. Just before he could return to the Border Guard, chaos erupted.
*
"Who follows the word of God? Who is in the right? Is the paladin who murdered the Archbishop in the right? If you cannot distinguish right from wrong, do not interfere! I shall personally punish them and uphold God's will!"
Some of the priests serving the God of Abundance, some serving the God of War, some serving the God of Scales, and even a portion of the crusaders—they declared a holy war.
"The monastery that betrayed the Holy Order and exploited the Saintess for its own private gain shall be the first target."
Forces rallying under the banner of a holy war gathered. Behind them lay the machinations of the cultists. They boldly instigated clashes right where the paladins were stationed.
Several Apostles of the cult began fighting the paladins. Because of this, the paladins were unable to intervene in the holy war. It was no time to take sides; they had to defend the very territories they stood upon.
Every action has a purpose, yet the cultists' ultimate goal remained obscure. But upon reflection, instigating a holy war was beneficial to them in itself. It meant the Holy City-State was essentially devouring its own flesh.
"We shall wipe these wretched cultists from this land."
With the appearance of the Apostles, the Order of Justice Realization and the Heresy Purging Priests mobilized.
Meanwhile, rumors spread that a paladin belonging to the priests had been killed. Word was rampant that an Apostle of the Demon Realm Holy Land Cult had slain him. Consequently, neither of the two priestly orders could voice an opinion or intervene in the holy war.
The Holy City-State was a nation centered around the Holy Order, with three cities under its domain, and all three were plunged into chaos.
Amidst this, Mull, one of the Seven Apostles of Abundance who had declared a holy war and vowed to become the new Pope, finally marched toward her target monastery.
This new divine army distributed indulgences, and word spread that there were two holy knights within their ranks. At this rate, a new Holy Order led by Mull was truly on the verge of being born.
"We serve the Gray God."
They proudly proclaimed their colorless light to be divine. They were utterly insane. They had fabricated a non-existent deity and created an entirely new religion.
In truth, those within the Holy Order who emitted a gray holy light had been quietly banding together, and now that alliance had materialized. To make matters worse, because they were part of the Holy Order's ruling class, the scale of the conflict ballooned.
"These bastards have lost their minds."
Overdear, unable to stand by any longer, organized an army and mobilized.
Noah, who led the monastery, chose to hold out inside the fortress-like monastery. They couldn't simply sit back and wait to be slaughtered.
Mull gathered forces as she marched toward Noah's monastery. Her numbers swelled by the day, and she adorned her forces with the title of the Gray Divine Army.
"I shall burn your flesh to serve as an altar to the Gray God."
She declared that she would grant no forgiveness to the monastery.
By this point, it had become a religion entirely distinct from the God of Abundance, but it was now like a carriage hurtling down a steep slope, gathering speed with no way to stop.
No one could halt its descent.