Chapter 129
Chapter 129
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 129
Chapter Title: Sanuaria's Confession
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Lander sat across from Sanuaria. Her hair had turned completely white, her eyes were deeply sunken, and deep wrinkles carved her nasolabial folds. She looked even older than just a few days ago.
“Do you remember me?”
Lander asked, placing both hands on the table.
Sanuaria’s facial muscles twitched visibly. Fear, wariness, and anger danced across her face.
“I guess you do.”
“You devil!”
Sanuaria cried out. Her teeth were visible between her parted lips—several molars were missing.
Her eyes bulged as she flew into a rage, but then she let out a dry cough and clutched her chest.
Lander glanced at Kalrigo. Kalrigo placed a glass of water and a handkerchief on the table.
He pushed the glass toward Sanuaria. She stared at it intently, then suddenly raised her hand to knock it away.
“It would be best if you drink it.”
Lander said, grabbing her wrist.
“I don’t yield to threats. My beliefs are unshakable, and salvation will surely come. So stop with the nonsense and kill me. Or if you can’t, leave me alone. I’ll die soon anyway.”
“Sanuaria. As you said, death is approaching soon. Your body has reached its limit, and there’s no way to reverse it.”
She bared her teeth in a triumphant grin, but then lowered her gaze. Noticing her wrinkled hands, she slyly pulled them under the table.
“You won’t believe me, and talking to me must be unpleasant or annoying.”
“Then why are you sitting in front of me?”
“I’m just here to listen. To what Gilliu meant by the ‘Day of Promise,’ and what salvation he promised you all.”
Sanuaria rocked her body back and forth, laughing loudly.
“You think I’ll tell you that?”
“Yes. I believe you will.”
“Torture me instead. The more you torment me, the sooner salvation will come. I fear nothing. Everything follows the natural order, the Grand Flow. Just because the actor steps off the stage doesn’t mean it’s all over. That’s when the real life begins.”
“Are you an actor who took the stage?”
“Yes! You’re blind and can’t see it, but the Seer and our comrades have seen the certain future. You won’t understand. A new world where the veil of language lifts. A world without false emotions.”
Sanuaria looked up with an ecstatic expression.
“This is a false world. A fabricated stage. True freedom hasn’t come yet. But soon, utopia will arrive. The stage will shatter, and real life will begin.”
“It sounds ecstatic just hearing about it.”
Sanuaria clamped her mouth shut, a thick smile forming.
She seemed to draw courage from speaking. As the conversation continued, her eyes came alive, and confidence bloomed on her face.
Lander steered the conversation to keep her in that heightened state.
Silence led to thought, thought to composure, and composure to wariness.
“Are we included in that salvation?”
Sanuaria’s lips twisted in displeasure.
“We’re not?”
“There’s no discrimination in salvation. Even devils like you will be saved on the Day of Promise. The fantastical events I experienced will happen to you too. The Seer is forgiving. A compassionate being who understands pain. That’s why you’ll be saved, got it?”
“That’s reassuring.”
Sanuaria’s eyes fell on the glass of water. Lander carefully pushed it toward her.
“Your throat must be parched.”
She sneered but didn’t refuse the water this time.
She sniffed it first, took a sip, hesitated, then gulped it down.
Even a body beyond repair had its desires. Quenching her thirst was key to cracking her mind open.
“I heard your husband suffered an injustice.”
“An injustice. Yes, it was unjust. Dogs cloaked in the name of God killed my family and neighbors. I screamed it wasn’t true over and over, but it was useless. They were devils who came just to kill.”
Thirty years ago was when the Central Cathedral’s heresy inquisitions and trials had intensified.
A revelation had come down demanding the purging of evil, and inquisitors who rushed out crying holy war slaughtered citizens by the thousands without explanation.
The purges happened only in small villages. No investigations into why they were heretics, which sect, or what heretical acts they committed.
They were simply branded devils and erased.
Then, three months later, it was declared that the revelation had been misinterpreted.
The high priest who claimed to have received and recorded it was dismissed that day, and a massive investigation was launched by the administration.
The joint probe by the imperial family and the council was swift and merciless.
That was the day the powerful Central Cathedral was pushed to the fringes of power.
Lander knew. The incident called the “False Moon” had nothing to do with God—it was a tangled political game.
“Do you know the name Riel Osma?”
Sanuaria glared but didn’t answer. She was gauging the intent of the question.
“He was a heresy inquisitor. Now he runs a small bakery in the Holy City. Riel Osma visited your village thirty years ago.”
Sanuaria shot to her feet. Her chair toppled backward.
Lander clasped his hands and looked up at her.
“What does that mean?”
“Sanuaria. Riel Osma is the one who branded you, your neighbors, and your loved ones as evil and passed judgment.”
“So what!”
“That man is living peacefully in the Holy City right now. He killed people following a false divine revelation thirty years ago, but his only sin was obeying God’s word. He was forgiven by stepping down from his clerical position.”
“Who decided that! Who forgave that devil! I, the victim, still can’t forget that day!”
He let her rage. She spewed her agitated emotions with ragged breaths, then asked with a stiffened face.
“Why tell me this?”
“Did Gilliu promise you future salvation? If so, I’ll offer you real revenge.”
“What?”
“Sanuaria. I’m not asking too much. Just tell me about your talks with Gilliu—his beliefs, ideology, what’s to come.”
Lander reached back to Kalrigo. Kalrigo handed him the notepad.
He placed the notepad and pen on the table.
“Can you write?”
“A little.”
“Then I’ll take it down. Sanuaria, just say what you know. That will earn you your reward.”
Wrinkles furrowed Sanuaria’s forehead. She seemed to age even during the conversation.
No one knew when her life would end. The cost of using mana freestyle was truly horrific.
“Sanuaria. You said the Day of Promise will come, and salvation is certain.”
“That’s an undeniable fact.”
“And the future foreseen by Gilliu, the Seer, is certain to happen.”
“His prophecies have always come true.”
“Then surely the Seer foresaw this situation too? With perfect foresight, he’d know this moment. Yet he sent you here. Me stopping you was fate too.”
Confusion crept into her resolute face. She raised veins and shouted, but her body wasn’t normal.
Even her Imaginary Realm was a mess. How many more coherent conversations she could manage was anyone’s guess.
Clear judgment required high-level thinking. Impossible for her now.
He kept talking, proposing, feeding provocative info—all for this moment.
“Sanuaria. Do you distrust the Seer? Or is the Seer not as perfect as you claim?”
“The Seer guides us. An infallible leader.”
“Then it’s decided. You have no reason to hesitate. This is fate, predetermined, foreseen by the Seer.”
Lander lifted the notepad and continued.
“I’ll bring you Riel Osma’s head. In exchange, just a few words.”
“You’ll really kill him?”
“If that’s what you want.”
Sanuaria began to waver. He tapped the table with the pen.
In rhythm with her heartbeat. Then gradually sped up.
Finally, she broke the silence.
“The Seer knows everything, so this must be part of his plan too. Yes, this is my role.”
Muttering to herself, Sanuaria began her tale.
Once she started, the words poured out like confession.
Reflection implied self-awareness. By voicing her deeds, she seemed to realize and regret them simultaneously.
Lander organized the events as she spoke. Unfortunately, little useful info emerged.
Sanuaria was a blind pawn. The other followers probably were too.
They never questioned orders, sacrificing their lives to fulfill them. No finer soldier material existed.
He had to admit it. Gilliu had trained the best soldiers.
By tugging at emotional strings, he controlled them. To them, Gilliu was a true savior.
“That’s how our branch threw our lives into District 8.”
“Who handled contact with the other branches?”
“The Seer came personally, or those who served him directly at his side.”
“Who are they? Who attended the Seer closely?”
“I don’t know. They always hid their faces. But they were close to power. That arrogant way of commanding people—you can’t hide it.”
Sanuaria paused, then asked in a slightly trembling voice.
“How many died in the Holy City?”
“The confirmed count exceeds three hundred. Probably more in reality.”
“Three hundred.”
She murmured the number, gently closing her eyes. Her shoulders hunched, neck shrinking, as if finally feeling the weight of the slaughter she’d caused.
“When the Day of Promise comes, they’ll all understand us. They have to.”
Lander handed the notepad to Kalrigo. Crude info, but he’d find leads from it. Kalrigo’s “intuition” was like magic.
He stood from his chair. Even if he wanted to continue, Sanuaria’s stamina seemed at its limit.
As she coughed harshly, she stopped the turning Lander.
“Riel Osma. You’ll bring me his head, right?”
Lander nodded. Sanuaria buried her face on the table, sobbing wrenchingly.
He closed the door and stepped out. Kalrigo flipped through the notepad and asked.
“But who is Riel Osma?”
“No idea.”
“I figured.”
Kalrigo chuckled and walked ahead.
“I’ll compile this into a timeline of Gilliu’s movements. We can investigate from there and find something.”
“Please do.”
He turned to look through the glass wall. Sanuaria was wandering the room with a beaming smile. She’d lost her mind again.
“Salvation.”
Lander thought of his wife, who had breathed her last in her sleep.
Gilliu and his followers would have to explain. What grand salvation required Naria’s death.
If they kept their mouths shut, he’d rip them open to hear it.