The New Prophet's Decree
“Let’s finish this story another time. Right now…”
I glanced around the battlefield.
This wasn’t the moment to confront Kasis about her lie. We had only just rescued her; the Idracultists hadn’t been fully dealt with yet.
Still, there was little reason to worry.
“In the name of Lumena, slay them!”
“Purge the heretics!”
The paladins, who had been frozen while Kasis was held hostage, finally sprang into action.
With thunderous roars that shook the air, they began cutting down the Idracultists.
Swish!
The cultists’ bodies were sliced apart like paper. A pale, radiant aura enveloped the paladins.
Holy power.
While mages wielded mana, the priests and paladins of the Sun Church commanded holy power. Priests used it to heal wounds, while paladins used it to strengthen and harden their bodies.
“Graaaagh!”
The already formidable paladins reinforced themselves with holy power and fought on. Even when injured, priests immediately tended to them.
Crack!
Draksan played his part as well. He swung his axe wildly, literally carving the Idracultists apart. A faint smile lingered on his lips—he was clearly enjoying the battle.
I should probably stop him… or maybe I should just let him relieve some stress for once.
Elsewhere on the battlefield, the Idracultists were being slaughtered just as one-sidedly. Their plant tendrils could no longer reach the paladins; the vines were severed or withered away before they could even strike.
“Watch out—left side!”
“Hah!”
Yurion.
It was all thanks to the boy hero, Yurion Lumein.
Scattering azure light from his eyes, Yurion swept across the battlefield. He coordinated with allies, dodged enemy attacks to counterstrike, and even warned paladins of incoming plant tendrils in time to save them. His movements were eerily precise—as though he knew exactly what his allies intended and what the enemy would do next. It was as if he could see every possible future.
At some point, the paladins stopped fighting. So did the priests. Even Draksan lowered his axe. Everyone stood frozen in place, watching Yurion’s battle unfold.
Swish. Swish. Swish…
“Graaaagh…!”
Only the sound of Yurion’s blade and the cultists’ screams echoed through the sudden silence. No one moved to help. There was no need.
Yurion fought as though he could see every move the enemy would make. From a distance, it almost looked like a rehearsed performance.
The entire battlefield rested in the palm of his hand.
“Hah… hah… hah…!”
Only after every last Idracultist had fallen did Yurion finally catch his breath. He was drenched in blood—none of it his own. Using his sword as a cane, he stood for a moment before collapsing to his knees.
Drip. Drip.
Tears fell from his bowed face. Yurion wept in silence.
None of the paladins or priests approached him. The gazes of the Sun Church members were complicated—some filled with doubt, others with awe.
I walked over to him.
“We’ve met before, haven’t we, Yurion?”
“Hah… hah…!”
Yurion lifted his head. His face was a mess—blood, tears, and dirt smeared across his features. Yet the brilliant blue light blazing from his eyes remained startlingly clear. It was almost blinding.
Those radiant eyes shifted between Kasis and me before he finally spoke.
“Thank you… for saving K-Kasis…!”
“We can talk about that later. Are you all right?”
Yurion’s eyes welled with fresh tears.
“Doctor… I keep seeing hallucinations. They won’t stop…”
“They might not be hallucinations.”
He was panicking, terrified. He needed certainty.
“No. They aren’t hallucinations, Yurion.”
“But I…”
I didn’t know much about Sun Church doctrine or the role of the prophet. But I understood one thing: some destinies cannot be escaped.
“You already know, don’t you? The role you’ve been given.”
Yurion’s trembling gaze swept across the crowd. He could feel their stares—eyes filled with reverence.
“I…”
The shaking in his body gradually subsided. His wavering eyes hardened. His grip tightened around the sword.
The blue light pouring from his eyes grew even brighter. His expression said everything.
Yurion was accepting reality. More precisely, he was accepting his new role.
“I… am the new prophet.”
At last, he declared it.
A new prophet had been born on this very battlefield.
“We greet the prophet of the new age.”
“We greet the prophet.”
The priests and paladins dropped to one knee. Their reverence felt natural, as though they had been waiting for this moment. Whether they had once belonged to the Oracle Faction or the Doctrine Faction, every one of them now looked upon Yurion with genuine awe.
Yurion’s performance had been too overwhelming to ignore. A prophet who used his foresight in direct combat, cutting down Idracultists as though they were children’s toys—that was enough to inspire reverence.
Unlike Kasis, who had only ever been a prophet, Yurion was both a prophet and a powerful paladin.
“We greet the prophet of the new age…”
Amid the murmured prayers, one voice cut through clearly.
“We ask that the new prophet pass judgment upon the false prophet.”
Yurion’s face twisted.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Exactly what I said.”
I recognized the priest who had spoken—the same one who, during the standoff, had suggested offering Kasis up rather than losing five paladins. According to Jacob, he was the loudest voice among the Doctrine Faction.
“Please decide the fate of the false prophet, Kasis Lumein.”
“It must be done. She deceived the Sun Church and put us all in danger!”
More Doctrine Faction priests began to speak up. Their arguments sounded reasonable. Kasis had lied about hearing voices to hide the loss of her divine revelations. In doing so, she had wasted the church’s resources and even exposed it to terrorist threats. While some exaggeration was involved, the core claims weren’t false.
Therefore, she deserved punishment—and only the new prophet, Yurion Lumein, could decide the severity of that punishment according to doctrine.
“Punishment…”
“What nonsense! Kasis may have lied, but have you all forgotten how many years she devoted herself as prophet?!”
Jacob stepped forward to defend her. The other Oracle Faction priests remained silent. They no longer had any grounds to protect someone who had lost her revelations.
“But it is also true that her deception endangered the church!”
“That doesn’t erase the years she served as prophet!”
“Quiet… everyone, quiet!”
Yurion’s voice rang out, strained. In the sudden silence, he simply stood there, unable—or unwilling—to pass judgment immediately.
The Doctrine Faction’s arguments carried weight, but that wasn’t the only reason for his hesitation.
Politics. That’s the real issue.
If he defended Kasis without punishing her, it would be seen as dismissing the Doctrine Faction entirely. Without their support, his life as prophet would become far more difficult—just as Kasis had suffered from their lack of backing.
There’s no reason not to listen to them.
The Oracle Faction priests generally respected the words of a prophet who received divine revelations. Whether Yurion punished Kasis or not, they would support him regardless.
By siding with the Doctrine Faction here, he could secure their support and keep the Oracle Faction’s loyalty. And the justification for punishing Kasis was already clear.
I looked at Kasis. She stared blankly into the air, resigned. From the moment she had confessed her lie, she had known this moment would come.
Her face looked more haggard and ill than I had ever seen it during our counseling sessions.
Step.
Yurion began walking toward her, sword still in hand, his glowing blue eyes fixed on Kasis.
Yurion walked toward Kasis, glancing around at the priests bowing their heads and the paladins kneeling in reverence. Their gazes held more than respect—they held fear. Awe, in its purest form.
The attention felt strange to him. Growing up in the orphanage had made it feel even more alien.
Number 11!
In the orphanage, Yurion had been called by a number instead of a name. Honestly, it hadn’t bothered him much. The priests couldn’t be expected to remember the names of dozens of children—nor did they have any reason to try.
None of the orphans complained about being addressed by numbers. They were all orphans. As long as they weren’t beaten or starved, that was enough.
Number 11, don’t dodge. It’ll only hurt more if you do!
What Yurion had found hardest to endure was the bullying from the other children. Kids were sharp—they quickly identified who was stronger and submitted, and who was weaker and could be tormented.
Small for his age, Yurion had often been a target. There were nights he lay awake, the bruises from daytime beatings throbbing.
What do you think you’re doing?! Why are you picking on someone so much smaller? Do you think I can’t hit people or something—aaagh!
The one who had saved him was Kasis.
She wasn’t particularly large either, yet the other children never dared to act up around her. Rumors had spread that she was the hidden daughter of a high-ranking priest. Those rumors were later proven false.
Kasis had approached Yurion where he lay beaten on the ground.
What’s your name?
Number 11.
Not your number. Your name.
Everyone calls me 11.
I know. I’m Number 43 here. But between us, we can still use our real names, can’t we?
……Yurion.
I’m Kasis. From now on, we’ll call each other by name. And—
Thump. Kasis lightly knocked her fist against the top of Yurion’s head.
Who said you could speak casually to me? I’m four years older than you! Use honorifics and call me Kasis noona.
……Yes, noona.
Good.
From that day on, they grew close—or rather, Kasis began looking out for him, making sure the other children left him alone.
Here, eat this, Yurion. You must be hungry.
Once they became closer, Kasis occasionally gave him bread. She always claimed it was leftovers, but that was a lie.
Your stomach was growling earlier, noona.
Quiet! You’re supposed to pretend you didn’t notice things like that. You’re so oblivious.
Still… you must be hungry too…
You’re a boy. If you eat well, you might grow up to become a paladin, right? You can pay me back then.
The orphanage rations were meager, especially for a growing boy like Yurion. He was always hungry.
But Kasis must have been hungry too.
Even after she became the prophet and they grew somewhat distant, even after Yurion’s sudden growth spurt spared him from bullying, even after he became strong enough to protect other children from being tormented—every so often, Yurion still thought about that bread.
“Kasis noona.”
“……Yes, Prophet.”
Kasis answered weakly, her face haggard.
Yurion gave her a bitter smile.
“We agreed to call each other by name, remember?”
Kasis’s eyes widened.
Yurion understood, logically, that the easiest path would be to side with the Doctrine Faction and punish her. It would solidify his position as prophet.
But he wouldn’t do that.
He would stand by Kasis’s side—just as she had once stood by his.
Even if it meant making the entire Sun Church his enemy.
Swish!
Yurion swung his sword.
“Graaaaaaaaagh!”
The scream stretched long and agonized. It belonged to the Doctrine Faction priest who had demanded Kasis be punished.
Yurion had severed the man’s forearm.
He flicked the blood from his blade and regarded the priests with cold eyes.
“Treat him. Make sure he doesn’t die.”
The Sun Church priests stared at Yurion in shock before obeying, channeling gentle holy light over the severed limb. The bleeding stopped quickly, but the arm did not regrow.
“Anyone else? Any priest who still believes the former prophet Kasis should be punished? Step forward—I’ll gladly take your arm as well.”
No one moved. Apparently, no one’s convictions were worth losing a limb over.
“Why do you think the former prophet lied?! Wasn’t it because of the pointless factional infighting within the Sun Church? If she had revealed that her revelations had vanished amid such bitter conflict, she would have been caught in the middle like a shrimp between whales!”
Yurion raised his sword, pointing it at the priests and paladins as he shouted.
“In the name of the prophet, I declare that there will be no more factional fighting. Furthermore, any attempt to punish or ostracize the former prophet Kasis will not be tolerated.”
Until now, no prophet had ever fought on the front lines. Prophets had always remained in safety, using their revelations to foresee danger while priests and paladins handled the actual fighting. That was why prophets had never wielded absolute influence—their words meant little without the hands and feet of the church to carry them out.
“The former prophet Kasis has saved the Sun Church many times with her revelations. Do not forget her contributions, and treat her accordingly.”
Yurion was different. He had fought while prophesying. He was both prophet and a powerful paladin.
No one dared to contradict him.
“The treatment of the former prophet is not merely for her sake—it is for the continued existence of the Sun Church itself. Why did the worst traitor, Jude, appear? Because he feared being cast aside after losing his revelations! That is why he betrayed us!”
“You are right, Prophet…!”
Someone murmured in agreement—an Oracle Faction priest.
“Should anyone attempt to punish or retaliate against Kasis, or fail to show her proper respect as former prophet, I will regard them as heretics seeking to overthrow the Sun Church and judge them according to doctrine immediately.”
It was a death sentence.
The Oracle Faction priests nodded silently in acceptance. The Doctrine Faction priests bowed their heads, more out of fear than willingness.
And from this moment on, the very names “Oracle Faction” and “Doctrine Faction” would lose all meaning.
Yurion would make sure of it.
He sheathed his sword and approached Kasis, lowering his voice to a whisper.
“I’m glad I could finally repay you. For the bread you gave me back then.”
Kasis stared at him blankly before her eyes slowly widened in understanding.
Yurion smiled—not with the solemn expression of a prophet, but with the pure, boyish grin of the child he had once been.