Chapter 1

Two days after the demon god summoning began to take shape...

That was around the time blue grass had started to sprout across a one-kilometer radius around this desert with the birth of the Holy Tree, when a familiar messenger finally arrived at the ancient ruin known as Helam.

“S-Saint c-candidate...”

Come to think of it, calling that an “arrival” might have been generous.

The holy warrior with the gold-blonde bob and flowing hair, Annie, had been dragged in by Knight Commander Layla with the look of someone barely clinging to life.

Her cheeks were hollow, her lips dried out, as if she had gone at least half a month without food or water. Still wrapped in rope from head to toe, she stared at Raul with a tearful face and said, “D-do you have any water...”

Somehow, it felt like something like this had happened before...

Raul slapped a hand to his forehead and brought her into Helam.

Of course, Celia, who had become close friends with Annie, rushed out of the bedroom barefoot to greet her.

Food and water. And when Annie finally saw Celia again after so long, she stuffed her mouth full and bawled her eyes out.

Celia had been briefly appalled by the sight, and Annie had suffered a shock after seeing that reaction... but leaving that aside, the story brought by this messenger of Motala was astonishing.

“His Holiness is preparing for asylum.”

Originally, bringing the three saint candidates together had not been part of Raul’s plan.

He had his own strategy.

“His Holiness has requested protection from you, the Saint of the End.”

But the saint candidate’s messenger, who had appeared without warning, was raising the possibility of a new demon king subjugation.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

“You look annoyingly lively, at least.”

Raul’s dry jab was met by Saint Bargette, who had come through the portal, with a slight curl of her lips.

“You have no hesitation when speaking to a bloodied old crone on the brink of a hundred, Saint.”

As she said, Saint Bargette Laurentio was covered in blood from head to toe.

Her once-white hair was caked with dried blood, and her clothes looked so stained it seemed like they would have been better off dyed red on purpose.

It was easy enough to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tell she had been through repeated, brutal battles.

And yet, among those many bloodstains, not a single drop belonged to the saint herself.

“I don’t waste time worrying about things that don’t matter.”

The great hero who had subdued the central continent with her bare fists some forty years ago.

Worrying about her safety was about as meaningful as asking the Divine Dragon how his day had been.

Apparently taking that trust for what it was, Saint Bargette gave a low laugh and leisurely scanned the surroundings.

“A mysterious place. Divine power flows here in accordance with a magical system... and several divine authorities of heresy are anchored as well. Hmm. There’s a great deal of dark faith scattered everywhere.”

The saint’s golden eyes instantly saw through the essence of Helam.

Whether the “heretical divinity” she mentioned referred to the ancient divine presence bound within the ruins or the World Tree on the surface was unclear, but...

“I’ll say this first: the word ‘heresy’ is off-limits here, Bargette.”

“I do follow the Father of Justice.”

“Then get out if you don’t like it.”

“Well, I have followed Him faithfully all my life. I’m sure He can overlook a brief lapse.”

Heh, heh.

The saint of Motala wore a sly, almost serpentine smile.

Raul asked directly, “You heard the story from Celia, right?”

“Yes. That there is a condition for accepting me and my warriors.”

“Can you move right away?”

At that, the holy warriors who had been collapsed from exhaustion all turned their eyes toward him.

There was no small amount ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of hostility in their expressions.

Raul had spent the last several days in constant battle; their situation was probably much the same. He didn’t need to be told what that meant.

So he added an explanation.

“You only need to take a look for now. If there’s anything more needed to break that curse, I’m just planning to get it ready while you rest.”

Only then did the holy warriors of Motala begin, one by one, to relax.

Bargette watched them with clear amusement before stepping forward.

“Lead on, then.”

Raul headed straight for the armory where the sacred spear, Glory, had been stored.

He shoved aside the slightly flimsy wooden door of the structure made from packed sandstone, and a black mist, hazy like water vapor, greeted them inside.

The moment Bargette saw it, her brow twitched.

“...Such dense chaos.”

With no hesitation at all, she read its nature, and Raul answered with a faint smile.

“I want you to exorcise that for me.”

As he pointed to the highest point of the storehouse, the saint’s eyes widened.

“That is...”

“Right. The relic of the beginning you supposedly handed to Eleanor. My spear.”

“How did such a divine relic end up in that condition?”

To that mildly reproachful question, Raul snorted.

“Celia didn’t tell you?”

Plainly speaking, this was the fault of Motala’s holy warriors.

The warriors of the sacred relic, Kel, and the Gold Wyvern unit.

Without them, there would have been no need to drape chaos over the sacred spear in the first place.

Raul suspected Celia simply hadn’t wanted Bargette to feel any unnecessary guilt.

To Celia, Bargette was probably the one who had made a place for her in the world, second only to Raul.

As expected, she had a gentle heart and a keen sense of consideration.

But that wasn’t Raul’s problem.

“...Then I can’t exactly say I had no part in this curse.”

After Raul summarized what had happened, Bargette accepted the blame without hesitation.

But Raul knew the truth.

The Relic Warriors and the Wyvern Crusaders were the faction that represented the Papal faction.

And he knew what lurked behind that Papal faction.

“Laurentio... you’re not blaming the whole family for it?”

“How could one who bears sainthood blame those who live within the Father’s faith? They may walk a crooked path, but they too are the Father’s hammer.”

“They’re bastards. That part’s true.”

At the abrupt jab, the saint bared her white teeth in a grin.

“Indeed. Bastards. And yet it has already been fifty years since the Stigma settled upon me. The fault for failing to guide them properly all this time lies solely with me, Saint.”

The words were playful enough, but Raul could hear the heavy burden of responsibility in her voice.

Yes, this was a saint.

Not the trash locked away in a prison, but a true saint, fundamentally different.

“So? Is exorcising it difficult?”

When he asked, Bargette let the smile fade from her lips and said, “If the Father’s holy water infused with starlight, and one hundred noble holy warriors, can manifest Aria, then one day... no, half a day should be enough.”

She said it as if it were nothing, but that meant an additional hundred people, including the saint herself, were required.

In other words, Xarxax’s curse was more powerful than anyone had imagined.

Raul had a feeling that if he had touched it himself, he would have been dragged back into that world all over again.

And this time, unlike last time, he wouldn’t have let me go so easily...

If he were dragged back into the World of Chaos again, he would either die or come back half-dead. One of the two.

Still, Raul let out a relieved breath at having the seal broken without fighting that thing again.

At that moment, Saint Bargette, idly touching the blackened spear stained a pure vantablack, spoke.

“Saint.”

“What.”

“If I die, the Stigma will almost certainly choose Celia.”

It was a rather sudden statement.

But Raul wasn’t surprised.

The saint candidate once called the Infinite Lorelei, who could have compared with Celia as Motala’s saint candidate, was already dead.

There was one other saint candidate of Motala, but that one had no real chance.

Because...

“Celia has only been under the church’s wing for two years since she was discovered by Carlyle and brought in. And yet in only two years, that child awakened future sight.”

“Celia’s a genius.”

“Her talent exceeded even mine. Give her three more years, no, two, and she’ll become a wave large enough to overturn the entire church on her own.”

Yet despite the way Bargette spoke, like a parent boasting about a child, her face was anything but bright.

So Raul waited in silence, and the saint finally continued in a heavy voice.

“But whether she can live through those two years... that is the problem.”

He had expected it, but at the warning Raul’s brow furrowed.

“What happened?”

“Just before I escaped the church, Laurentio officially declared Celia an enemy. They were undoubtedly afraid. A girl close to you, a girl with such talent... they knew she would never submit quietly.”

“...So what they want is for the remaining saint candidate, the one with no chance at all, to inherit the Stigma.”

And there was only one way that impossible thing could happen.

Celia had to die.

Bargette nodded, and Raul clicked his tongue.

He had known it already, but they were a revolting bunch.

“But that’s not the real problem, Saint.”

“Not the real problem?”

“Yes. One day after Laurentio declared her their enemy, the Divine Dragon Kingdom also put a bounty on Celia’s head.”

“...”

“No matter how far she may have run, family has put a price on family.”

Bargette’s eyes were wide now, and when she spoke again, her voice was strikingly serious.

“It is only you, Saint. Only you can save Celia from this threat and restore the fallen church’s trust. Please, for the sake of Exeria, and for Celia... can you shoulder that immense task?”

It was almost as if she had come all this way with precisely this in mind, for the saint naturally raised the back of her hand, where a glow was already gathering, and posed the question.

That light was none other than the Stigma of Ethos.

The power of Ethos was an oath sworn with one’s soul.

A vow made before Ethos became the fate of the priest who swore it.

And if he failed to fulfill it, he would receive the divine punishment known as loss of sanctity.

In an instant, he would no longer be a priest at all.

“...So that’s it. You acknowledge my ability, but you never intended to trust me.”

Raul let out a dry laugh at the realization.

At that response, Bargette, whose Stigma was still glowing, wiped the smile from her lips at once and spoke in a forceful voice.

“To me, you are merely the seed of the end, no matter if heaven and earth were to collapse and the laws of the world be rewritten anew.”

And at the same time, she revealed her hostility.

So it wasn’t an illusion after all.

That killing intent she had shown in her clenched fist the moment she crossed the portal.

It had been directed at Raul all along.

The saint of Motala had never trusted the saint, to the very end.

Which was only natural.

For nearly a hundred years, she had believed Raul to be the Saint of the End.

No matter what the heresy inquisitor Carlyle, the holy warrior Annie, the judge Tagot, or Eleanor of Therion said, the faith Bargette had lived by for her entire life was not going to waver now.

That said, Raul had no intention of feeling betrayed by it.

He had been suspicious of her suspiciously cooperative behavior from the start.

“That’s actually better.”

Bargette’s brow twitched at that.

Raul went on, “A guy like you, who’s honest instead of pretending at some half-baked divine trust, is more to my taste.”

“...”

“But let’s change one thing before we go any further. Bargette. I’ll make an Ethos Oath with you. But if I’m staking my own fate, then you should stake an appropriate price too.”

“A price, you say...?”

“I’ll protect Celia. And naturally, I’ll protect Exeria, where she has to live. So in return, you’ll hand over one of Motala’s relics to me.”

At the blunt demand, Saint Bargette’s face hardened instead.

Suspicious, she asked, “The Ethos Oath doesn’t apply the petty merchant’s way of chasing profits.”

Honestly...

Raul immediately understood from that remark that the saint had little experience using Ethos in her life.

If anything, in terms of sheer practical use, he might have more experience than she did.

“It’s not petty profit. It’s for the sake of our mutual survival. I’ll swear to devote myself to this world of Exeria, and you’ll swear to hand over a relic ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to me. That’s all it takes: two oaths.”

There was no need for romance or blind trust between them now that both their true intentions had been laid bare.

“You use me, and I use you. That’s the whole thing.”

Only then did the crease between Bargette’s brows ease.

Before long, a benevolent smile had returned to her face.

“Very well.”

She looked like someone who had already won.

It wasn’t hard to guess why.

The Ethos Oath would continue even after her death.

As someone who did not trust Raul, she was probably thrilled at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the thought that she had bound a possible future disaster into the oath itself.

But in truth, Raul was the one who stood to gain.

For him, protecting Celia and removing threats to Exeria were already things he intended to do anyway.

Thanks to her distrust, I’ve gotten a free relic I never would’ve had otherwise.

Raul could only smile back.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

Two days later,

A massive golden beam surged upward into the sky above Helam like a dragon.

The highest-grade joint miracle of Motala, one that condemned sin and judged corruption, had been activated. The Aria of the Scales.

The light, rising in a graceful curve, soon poured down over Helam like a torrential rain.

That golden rain washed away part of the chaos god Xarxax.

Of course, as Saint Bargette had predicted from the beginning, it took a very long time.

The rising sun had already crossed the zenith and was beginning to sink reluctantly toward the desert horizon.

Only then did the heavy lance of white and gold, Glory, finally reveal its true form.

“Oh.”

Even Layla, who had stayed by Raul’s side all through the half-day ritual, rounded her lips in quiet admiration.

Bathed in the deep orange of the sunset, Glory truly did have that kind of presence.

At last, Raul took it into his hands.

A large diamond-shaped Stigma appeared over the simple circular form of Logos on the back of his hand.

Agilos?

Raul widened his eyes and stared hard at the back of his hand.

He had a reason to be so shocked.

「A」 ▶ 「S+」

Agilos was a Stigma that dramatically increased the owner’s divine power.

In an instant, Raul’s divine power also broke through the threshold of Transcendence and rose beyond it.

Maybe because his attributes had suddenly shifted so much, Raul felt a scorching pain as if his whole body had been swallowed by fire.

The same sensation he had once mentioned before, that feeling of his body being redesigned from the ground up, dug deep through his flesh.

After this kind of feeling, my sense of how to move gets a little off...

Well, it shouldn’t be a big problem.

Besides, Messiah Scenario came with that annoying thing called quest cooldowns.

There was plenty of time to test out the sensation of a new body that had broken through the realm of Transcendence.

“Huu.”

Raul steadied the searing pain boiling through his body with a long breath.

At that moment, another message appeared, one that made him smile.

Agilos affects other Stigmata too?

That was new.

After all, in the game Exeria, there had never been a case of multiple Stigmata dwelling in a single character in the first place.

Good news followed by more good news.

How many times in Raul’s life had something like that happened?

Had it ever happened at all?

“Hah.”

He chuckled at his own thought, then tried to move the muscles that twitched as if they had all cramped at once.

It hurt, but he was adapting.

Once that adjustment was complete, Raul would become something new, as a being who had broken through Transcendence in his core stats... something whose very category as a living creature had shifted.

That was when it happened.

A message in a form he had never seen before appeared before his eyes, enough to make his head ring.

...What? Abundance is introducing a variable?

Question marks flooded Raul’s mind.

Had there ever been a function like that in Exeria?

He could say with certainty that there hadn’t.

No, at the very least, Raul, who had collected fifty-four endings across eighteen different classes, had never seen a message like this before.

So what in the world was this...?

The moment that question formed in his head, a familiar message drifted into view.

As expected, it was a quest cooldown message.

Only now, with that strange remark about “introducing a variable,” the cooldown that should have lasted days had become exactly 3 seconds.

But before he could leisurely think about that, time kept moving.

And when Chapter 3 finally appeared, its first quest was entirely beyond Raul’s expectations.

“A request from Mimir...?”