I'm Not a Heretic (3)
Those Who Swallow the Twilight. They were meant to be the main villains of the story's early-to-mid sections. Given that role, the organization was massive, incredibly influential, and packed with lunatics who operated in every twisted way imaginable. Even in Labyrinth City—a place already boiling with danger and incident—they ranked among the absolute worst. Fanatics who'd worshipped the Goddess of Love so hard their brains had snapped, insisting that everything in existence must fall into her hands. They viewed the remnants of dead gods and miracles as the final embers of ancient civilization... twilight itself. Collecting those embers by any means necessary and offering them to the Goddess was their supreme mandate.
I don't know every specific atrocity they commit, but the setting that they're the most fucked-up faction in the entire world is ironclad. Late-game villains need tragic backstories, but for the early and middle parts, it's better to have irredeemable bastards you can hate without guilt. Those Who Swallow the Twilight fit that bill perfectly. They wrap every evil deed and act of madness in the pretty packaging of faith and strut around like they own the place. Everyone knows they shouldn't exist, yet they scatter and hide like cockroaches, making total extermination nearly impossible.
So if someone asked me what I thought of Those Who Swallow the Twilight, I'd answer without a shred of hesitation.
"They're fucking pieces of shit."
"Hmm?"
A spark of interest lit up in Karen's eyes.
"The Goddess teaches us to love the world, to love our neighbors, to love our families, and above all else, to love ourselves."
"The final verse of the Book of Regeneration."
The Book of Regeneration is basically the Pan Continent's version of Genesis. It tells the story of a destroyed world being reborn. At the end, the Goddess of Love gives instructions on how people should live in that renewed world.
"Nowhere in it does she say to love the Goddess. And if you comb through the other scriptures, you'll find that verse doesn't exist anywhere."
"That..."
Karen wore the stunned expression of someone who'd heard something completely unexpected. I drove the point home with a firm, unyielding tone.
"The Goddess of Love does not beg for affection."
"...!"
One of the settings I'd poured the most effort into was the Goddess of Love herself. She was the sole transcendent left in this world, a survivor of the old era, the master of the labyrinth... and the character I'd planned as the final boss.
The Goddess of Love isn't evil. She's simply exhausted. All the gods who were supposed to share eternity with her are dead. After deciding on self-destruction rather than spend eons as a gravekeeper, she remained the only divinity on the Pan Continent. She couldn't simply leave without making arrangements—especially when civilization still depended so heavily on the labyrinth.
So the Goddess decided to create her own successor. After all, she had the perfect stage: the labyrinth itself. A vast graveyard where countless monsters and ownerless miracles slumbered. And adventurers who grew stronger with every conquest. If someone accumulated enough status by clearing the labyrinth, they could reach demigod level. Passing her divinity to that person and finally finding rest would let the world continue without issue.
That was why, in the deepest depths of the labyrinth—at the bottom where one era ends and another begins—the Goddess desperately prayed for someone to become her death.
Of course, the protagonist rejects her final wish. The climactic battle is the Goddess, unable to give up, forcing the protagonist to kill her.
...She was that important to the story. Still, I have no way of knowing whether the actual Goddess of Love matches the character I designed. After all, she's not some ordinary person—she's a literal divinity. Even if I'm not certain she's exactly as I imagined, I can at least confirm that the temple's doctrine matches my original concept perfectly. Thanks to that, I can speak with confidence.
The Goddess of Love is an immortal who lives forever. The love she offers isn't something to be received—it's something to be given. It doesn't matter if the world changes and unbelievers eventually outnumber her followers. She will keep loving the world and its people regardless. Unchanging love is a phrase that exists only for her.
...Which is exactly why Those Who Swallow the Twilight are villains.
"They speak of the price of love that the Goddess never asked for, then destroy the very things she cherishes. Do you know what I call people like that? I call them ungrateful fucking pieces of shit."
"Ha! What a magnificent phrase. I've learned something new today."
Karen laughed so brightly that her perpetual exhaustion seemed to melt away. Ian stared in blank amazement. Elly and Rydia both wore complicated expressions. Was my language really that shocking? I'd have to watch my mouth around those two from now on. Even back on Earth, some people thought women cursing was a turn-off. Apparently Elly and Rydia were the same way.
"Yona. Your sincerity has come through clearly. I'll stop with the needless suspicion. ...However, may I ask one thing that still puzzles me?"
"Go ahead."
"Your contempt for Those Who Swallow the Twilight was utterly genuine. But my eyes also caught a faint, contradictory emotion mixed in with it."
"Human emotions are contradictory by nature. That's why the tongue is like a blade. What can exist mixed together in the mind becomes sliced apart the moment it turns into words. And once it's cut, it can't be put back together."
"I partially agree, but that's not what I'm asking about."
"Then what?"
"Yona. You genuinely define them as evil and hate them with all your heart. Yet you also feel affection toward them. This isn't the same as love-hate. The emotions exist simultaneously, but they have not merged into one."
"...You can even see something like that?"
"Yes. It's an extremely unusual case. I'm not doubting you, but for the sake of the future, I'll risk being rude and ask anyway. ...Just what kind of feelings are you harboring that make this possible?"
"Well, it's nothing special."
I gave a bitter smile and spread both arms wide, as if inviting her to look at me properly.
"I basically love everything in this world."
"Pardon?"
With Karen's eyes wide open before me, I spoke from the heart.
"The towering monoliths of Pangrave. Magic and aura. The filthy-looking adventurers who start crawling out one by one as the sun begins to set. The monster parts clutched in their hands. The ignorant fools in the slums. The orphans with nowhere to go. The male prostitutes in their provocative outfits. The female adventurers drawn to them. The sound of prayers echoing from the temple. The shabby wooden buildings. The Magic Tower constructed with cutting-edge magitech materials. The rhythmic clang of hammers from the workshop district. The retired adventurer missing an arm. The active adventurer who dreams of becoming a knight. ...And even the overworked Heretic Inquisitor full of questions."
"......"
Was she overwhelmed by my words? Or by whatever her divine grace was showing her? I flashed a bright smile at Karen, who stood there with her mouth hanging open.
"I love everything in this world."
Because this is my world, after all.
"Even if it's the childish sentiment of a kid."
It's a world I packed full of everything I loved.
"Even if they're fanatics I could never get along with."
Of course, surviving in this body is exhausting and difficult.
"Even if they're enemies I can never forgive."
Sometimes my life really will be on the line.
"I love everything in this world."
But I have no choice but to love it. After all, I'm the author, and this is the world from the novel I was writing. It's agape and philia and eros all at once. Even I can't quite define it, but no matter what label you stick on it, the feeling fits. That's the emotion I hold toward this world.
"How about it? Does that answer your question?"
"......"
Karen didn't respond. More accurately, she didn't have the capacity to. Her eyes were fixed on me, but her gaze was unfocused, as if she were staring at something far beyond. Pink sparks kept bursting endlessly within her pupils.
She remained frozen like that for a long time—unable to close her eyes, shut her mouth, or move from the spot. When she finally regained control, tears began streaming down her face. She dropped to her knees, clasped her hands together, and prayed.
"Oh Goddess..."
"I'm not the Goddess?! I'm a man!"
"I finally accept your words."
"Are you listening to this...? No, more importantly, is a grown adult really crying like this?!"
I frantically wiped at the tears pooling around Karen's eyes with my sleeve. Then, without warning, a brilliant light erupted from her body—pale pink, like scattering flower petals. Just looking at it relaxed both mind and body to the point of blissful lethargy.
There was only one power that could produce this color and this effect.
It was the divine energy of the Goddess of Love.
Karen, suddenly engulfed in overwhelming holy power as if she'd received a revelation, continued praying with an expression of pure religious ecstasy. Seriously, why was she suddenly having an awakening all by herself...?
I could only stand there watching helplessly as the divine energy poured out of her like water from a broken faucet. Eventually she gathered it all back in, rose slowly to her feet, and spoke with dark circles that had shrunk to half their previous size. She looked far more human now.
"Yona. As I thought, you really must become a priest."
"Hard pass."
Proselytizing. What a pain.