Chapter 509: The Statue
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 509: The Statue
How… how…
He had been so sure it was a success. It was something he’d always done, something he’d considered trivial. Nazareth’s body trembled as he looked around.
He couldn’t process their sudden change.
It was a mistake. A mistake. A mistake.
They had been just like all the other humans he had ever met. The kind of foolish humans who believed they would be saved, who believed they could one day find happiness. They had welcomed him before he even had to speak, and they had been the first to bow their heads. They were fools who prayed earnestly every day and smiled with joy at the most insignificant words.
He had visited countless temples, but he had never met humans as foolish as these. Those who wanted to go to heaven, those who wanted to be reborn—religion usually preys on the weak parts of humanity. These people were frail, too, and needed something to lean on. He knew that was why they had welcomed him so eagerly.
He was certain of it. Absolutely certain.
He had no idea what had happened after the statue was destroyed. By the time he came to his senses, he was bound and being dragged somewhere, unable to even guess what had transpired. The only thing that was certain was that things had gone wrong.
The screams of his comrades echoed all around him.
“Aaaargh… Please!! Please, spare me… spare…”
“Kill… me… please… please…”
“Aaaaaaaahk!!!”
“Please, spare me. Spare me. Please… please!”
Blood pooled on the floor. The feathers he had once considered his pride were plucked and scattered everywhere, and he could see crazed humans driving daggers into wings that had already been severed and discarded.
“Die! Die! Die! Die! Die!”
The wings no longer had an owner. The sight of them venting their rage on severed wings and limbs was grotesque.
They’re… they’re insane… insane…
“Ah…”
Among his comrades, he was the only one whose body was still intact. Even Lord Michael, whom he had considered his only hope, was falling to the ground, brought down by a human magician he had never seen before. A human he hadn’t seen here until now—he must have been one of the temple’s guardians.
Demons that looked as if they had come from hell itself were raising their weapons, thrusting them at the falling Lord Michael. The moment he hit the ground, spears and daggers ravaged his wings and body. Even as he screamed and writhed, small daggers plunged into him relentlessly, staining his white robes crimson. His wings and arms suffered the same fate.
An ominous feeling began to creep in.
Because ahead of him, the human who had been called a Saintess was weeping.
“Sob… How… how can I atone for this sin… hiccup…”
“…”
“Haaah… How… how can I possibly ask for forgiveness…”
“…”
“Sob… sob…”
Her mournful weeping was enough to send a chill down his spine, a stark contrast to the others in this temple stained with blood and screams.
This was the human who had smiled quietly even after being slapped, even when he had openly insulted her. The human who had thought it only natural to bow her head. The moment the statue crumbled, she had let out a head-splitting scream, and the divine power that had poured out of her had been beyond comprehension.
Destroying the statue had been a foolish mistake. Lord Michael had been right. He had ruined everything.
These were no ordinary priests.
As his body continued to be dragged across the floor, his seven comrades came into view. Not a single one of them was unscathed. One was impaled on a spear that ran from his groin to his throat, tears streaming from his eyes. Others had nothing but dangling flaps of flesh where their wings used to be.
One had his tongue completely ripped out, while another was caressing his own face, the skin of which had been entirely peeled off. There were so many with severed legs and wings.
Though his comrades were suffering in different ways, they all had one thing in common.
They were still alive.
The believers around them were forcing potions and divine power into them, as if determined not to let them die. His comrades, who looked too weak to even move, were pinned to the floor, gasping for air. They were barely clinging to life. But the madmen here would not grant them the release of death. They poured immense divine power into them, forcing their bodies to rise, and as his comrades slowly regained consciousness, they stared at him with eyes full of resentment.
“Haa… ah…”
“Gaaaggh…”
“Save… me…”
“Naza… reth.”
When Lord Michael finally arrived, he was in the same state. His beautiful skin, hands, and legs, and the wings he had been so proud of, were all stained crimson. His hair had been completely pulled out, and blood trickled from the follicles. One of his eyes had been gouged out.
He was the only one who was unharmed.
“Ah… ugh…”
Anyone who wasn’t a fool could understand. Why they hadn’t killed him yet. Why he, who had committed the greatest sin, was perfectly fine. Why they hadn’t touched a single hair on his head, the one who had destroyed the statue. A sense of dread began to wash over him. The air was thick with madness. He swallowed hard and looked ahead, watching as a path slowly opened.
A small girl came into view, her expression incredibly dark.
“Lady Baek Ahyeon… sob… Lady Baek Ahyeon… I am so sorry.”
Seeing the human named Jane, the one called Saintess, fall to her knees and beg for forgiveness, Nazareth remembered that the girl before him was Archbishop Baek Ahyeon. She was the one they had been waiting for.
“Ah… uh…”
“Lady Baek Ahyeon… please kill me. Sob. I have made a foolish mistake. Deceived by the tongues of cunning heretics, I failed to protect the statue bearing the image of our Savior. Hic… It is my fault. All of it is my fault. If only I had been faster… sob…”
“Rise, Saintess Jane. We will address your sin in a moment. I will take into consideration that you brought him here without injury.”
“Sob… hic… I am sorry.”
“It is not I who forgives sin, but the Savior. I am sure the Savior will forgive you.”
The sight of the small girl speaking to him with eyes full of madness was somehow bizarre. The way her mouth was twisted was very different from that of an ordinary human. She was grinning, but it was obvious that her smile held no goodwill.
It was a look of anticipation.
A look of anticipation for what was about to happen.
Nazareth spoke without thinking. He had to get out of this situation somehow. It was impossible to think clearly in this place where incomprehensible things were happening. The only thought that dominated his mind was the need to survive.
“You… you! How dare you… Do you have any idea what you are doing to us, the apostles of the Savior!”
“…”
“The Savior will not forgive you. How dare you! You should be treating us with the utmost respect, yet you do… this!”
“Go on, say more.”
“This… this…”
“You may continue. It’s delightful. It is truly delightful to see you so vigorously proving that you are alive. Heeheehee… Pfft… Heeheehee.”
“…”
“So it was you.”
“…”
“You were the one who destroyed the statue bearing the image of the Savior.”
“…”
“The statue that held the perfect image of the Savior, that I made for the Savior with my own hands, that the Savior himself said was magnificent. You were the one who destroyed it! You! It was you!”
“…”
Nazareth could only shut his mouth.
“That… that was my treasure. My treasure, I tell you. Hic… I hate you. I hate you so much. Sob…”
“…”
“For now, let’s start by pulling out that cunning tongue of yours. Heehee. I will do my utmost to attend to you, to ensure you can perceive everything that is about to happen. It might be difficult. You might even want to die. But I will never, ever kill you. I will make you feel every pain I know. You’ll come to feel that Hell would be a relief.”
“Ugh…”
His body couldn’t help but tremble. The atmosphere was that terrifying. He couldn’t tell if the girl before him was crying or laughing, and his body no longer felt like it was functioning properly. He even began to doubt if this place was a temple at all.
As the small girl slowly approached, his body began to reject her presence. Despite being bound, he could do nothing but squirm and struggle to get away. It was the only thing he could do.
“Stay away! Stay away! Please, stay away!”
“Puhihihit. You may run. This is not a purification ritual, after all. The more you fear, the more delightful it is. Oh, yes! Indeed it is!”
“Aaaaargh! Stay away! Please!”
It was then, as he was crawling away on all fours.
“Ah…”
Something came into view.
“…”
He had thought there was something strange about the floor. There had been a report that a high-level magician had cast a spell on it, but they had assumed it was merely a device to protect the temple. If Lord Michael hadn’t warned them not to act rashly until the Archbishop arrived, they would have already dispelled it. How had he not noticed? The scene that was revealed after the magic faded was something he had never seen before in his life.
An underground… city…
It was an underground city. Unquestionably. Countless humans were reaching their hands toward the sky. They were watching the festival happening here, their arms outstretched. There was no hope in any of their faces. Humans gripped by hunger, fear, and madness were spreading their arms wide to catch the falling feathers.
On the level above them, and the level above that, in a space that seemed impossibly deep, things were happening that were hard to comprehend. A believer in a bizarre mask was haphazardly tearing through a person’s entrails, and on the level above that, people were being tortured, their bodies melting away.
“Ah… ugh…”
“Aaaaaaaaargh!”
“Aaaaaaaaaahk!!!”
Though it was only for a moment, a torrent of screams reached him, vivid and clear.
“Hell…”
Hell. If hell truly existed, this is what it would look like.
It was obvious now that this was no ordinary temple.
He felt like a fool for not having noticed until now. He had thought them simple-minded, but looking back, they were people who seemed to be missing something. The expression ‘having a screw loose’ fit them perfectly.
He had seen many temples with inquisitors, but he had never seen or heard of one that had so concretely created hell.
“Ah… ugh…”
He had set foot in a place he never should have entered.
That was the only thought that came to mind.
“Puhihihit. You won’t be going there. That place is only for those who have a chance of undergoing the purification ritual. A cursed being like you could never enter. There is no possibility. For you, who has committed such a great, a truly great sin, there is not a single shred of a chance for purification.”
“Ah… save… save…”
“But you can rest assured. They will all die one day. But you will live forever. You will live on forever and ever, and become a symbol of this temple. You will become an example of what happens to those who dare! Dare! to touch the Great Temple of the Savior, the statue of the Savior! All who visit this place will see you first! You, who can neither live nor die. Puhihihihit.”
“Save me… save me…”
“Did I not tell you? You will never, ever die… you will live on here.”