207. The Price of Greed
207. The Price of Greed
Imitation Heroes.
Such beings existed four hundred years ago as well.
In other words, the Holy Kingdom was conducting such experiments even four hundred years ago.
To be precise, they were limited to the Saintess rather than all the Heroes, but well, they existed regardless.
On the surface, they dressed it up as support for us operating on the battlefield, but that experiment back then was an atrocity that abandoned all morality.
Shoving doppelganger cores into human heads, forcibly breeding doppelgangers with humans, pulling fetuses from pregnant women's wombs and inserting doppelgangers that had read the Hero's information—things like that.
So I turned the Holy Kingdom upside down.
I crippled eighty percent of the Blood Heaven Knight Order, twisted the necks of all Twelve Cardinals, tore half the priests to death, and slapped the Patriarch across the face for three days and nights straight.
The reason the Patriarch survived was because he didn't know even a single fragment of that experiment.
Right. It was an experiment conducted under the orders of the Twelve Cardinals, deceiving the Patriarch's eyes.
But does that mean the Patriarch was without fault?
That's not true either. For a being seated upon the throne of a nation, even ignorance and incompetence are sins.
And on top of that, the Patriarch of that time was drunk on power and swayed by humanity's consecutive victories.
Crazy bastard.
So I slapped him.
Whenever his jawbone shattered and his skull caved in, Luna would revive him with her miracles, and five of us took turns slapping him for three days.
And so, as the Patriarch was reborn as a new person and we were on our way out after remaking even the Holy Kingdom's fundamental principles, Luna deployed an Anti-Magic Barrier.
Well, anyway.
Even though such history lies behind the Holy Kingdom's shadow, they've gone and pulled that shit again this time.
Fundamentally, an Imitation Hero cannot defy its master and must follow its master's orders without a single word of objection.
They are so blindly loyal that they cannot speak ill of their master even in their master's absence, and they can explain everything they've seen, heard, and experienced even if it means ripping their own brains out.
So this meeting with me might also be reported to the higher-ups.
That's why I was going to kill her immediately.
But the Mikel before my eyes felt a little different from the Imitation Heroes of four hundred years ago.
The Imitation Heroes made back then all felt like dolls, but the Mikel before me now seemed more like a person with extremely suppressed emotions than a doll, didn't she?
And besides, when I asked again just in case, didn't she say she respected me with a voice filled with more sincerity than ever before?
First of all, I know that among the people who respected me in my Past Life, there are no bad, wicked, or treacherous people.
Mikel is surely the same.
So I decided to trust her after going through just one final verification procedure.
"Patriarch Yusopa St. Johannidis is a son of a bitch. The Twelve Cardinals are fucking bastards. Try repeating that."
An ideological verification.
If she's not a doll, she should be able to pass.
If she's not something that cannot defy at the soul level, she should be able to spew insults over and over.
In fact, the Imitation Heroes of that time couldn't repeat those words.
And my judgment was, as expected, correct.
Of course, there was a very slight problem in the middle, but...
Anyway, Mikel passed the ideological verification.
"Yusopa... St. Johannidis... s-son... son of a... son of a bitch... The Twelve Cardinals... are... mother... motherfuckers..."
In the middle, I even tried making her say 'Yurphia is a retard,' but she genuinely tried to tear her own acupoints to kill herself, so I let that one slide.
"Good. You're definitely human. We're friends from today on."
I extended my right hand to Mikel once again.
At that, Mikel flinched and hunched her body, looking at me cautiously. Her eyes, clouded with doubt, were covered in blue bruises, and her once-prominent nose bridge had collapsed miserably.
Judging by the strange sound of her breathing, four or five of her ribs seemed broken, and her right arm was bent the wrong way.
"Hey, don't look at me like that. It was just a trivial little spat between friends. I trusted you, and Mikel betrayed that trust first, so Mikel's the bad one. Anyway, let's just move past what happened as a trivial spat. Okay? Yeah?"
Mikel didn't answer and just twitched her torn lips here and there. She seemed too frightened.
I smiled as kindly as I could, beaming brightly, and said.
"Answer."
"Yes... understood."
With a right hand that had two or three broken fingers and a left hand with all five fingers shattered. With both hands, no less, Mikel accepted my handshake.
She's definitely the real deal, as far as kids these days go.
"Nice. Since we both respect Ronan, we'll get along quickly."
Mikel didn't answer.
*****
After drinking holy water and completing her healing at a rapid pace, Mikel immediately began her explanation.
Given that she had materials prepared in advance, it seemed she had decided to explain everything from the moment she arranged to meet me.
She really is a decent person.
There was a bit of a problem at our first meeting, but well, isn't that just how human relationships always work?
Anyway.
"You're definitely not just far from being a homunculus—you're completely unrelated, aren't you?"
"Yes. That's correct. Not only our souls, but our minds have never been modified either. Therefore, we have no need to follow a master's orders, and we are clearly individual humans with distinct egos."
Completely different from four hundred years ago.
That's very good news, but.
"Even so, 'If you offer prayers to the Sacred Relic, the Divine Authority of one of the great five Heroes will descend upon you'... That part is suspicious to a suspicious degree."
The word 'Divine Authority' is a bit embarrassing and ticklish and feels good, but anyway, it means they're granted something similar to our abilities.
As a result of asking Mikel, it's not exactly the same as our power.
Should I call it a derivative of ours, or a degraded version?
It was a shoddy ability not even worth comparing.
In fact, every Executor who received my—that is, Ronan Luzarak's—Divine Authority reportedly had their bodies torn apart and died.
I don't know if it's because kids these days are pathetic, or because it's the Authority of me who died once.
"'Suspicious to a suspicious degree'... I don't understand what you mean."
"It means exactly what it sounds like—suspicious to a suspicious degree. Isn't this setup way too convenient? Even the novels kids read these days don't go this far."
Tap, tap—I tapped the thick stack of documents and thought.
The Executors are a group of humans blessed with Yurphia's grace, and the Holy Kingdom's guillotine.
It's strange from the start that such people would offer prayers to Sacred Relics and be granted new Authorities.
"When did you say the Patriarch opened the door to the Sanctum?"
"Ten years ago."
"When Sacred returned."
"Yes."
"The Sanctum's door has been firmly shut for four hundred years—no, since the Holy Kingdom was founded and the concept of the Sanctum came into being. So I don't understand how such a door was thrown wide open when nothing had happened."
"It wasn't opened to everyone. Among the Executors, only those of us with steadfast faith—"
"Right. It means only the ones among you who showed promise were let in, but it's still strange. Who, when, where, what, how, why. The most important of these—'why'—is missing. Just because Sacred returned? That reason is far too insufficient."
The current Patriarch, Yusopa St. Johannidis, ten years ago, in the Holy Kingdom, opened the door to the Sanctum.
Why? Why did she open it?
To reinforce the Executors' combat strength?
Then why did she suddenly have such a thought?
If one offers prayers, why is a new Authority—an Authority similar to our abilities—granted?
Do the Sacred Relics know us?
Does the ego dwelling within Sacred remember us?
And thus grant such abilities to the Executors?
How did the Patriarch learn of that fact?
At this point, only one method comes to mind.
"According to the Patriarch's words, she received a Revelation."
"Ha."
Right, that damn Revelation.
That Revelation—was it you, Luna? Did you send it?
Because we failed four hundred years ago, did you send it to reinforce our combat strength? Did you send Sacred back too? We failed because I wasn't there. Now it's different.
If I am here.
If everyone gathers like four hundred years ago, then perhaps.
I gripped Havar in my bosom tightly and asked.
As expected, no answer came.
I cast aside my idle thoughts and looked at Mikel.
"In that case, the reason you were able to go from being a coffee machine to captain of the fourth squad in one leap is also because of that Authority, isn't it?"
"It wasn't a coffee machine, it was administrative duties... but yes. In my case, unusually, the Authority wasn't enough—my Realm also rose. That happened two years after I joined the Executors."
"Two years later. So it took a little over two years to adapt to that Realm."
"You are exactly correct."
"Are the other captains in the same situation as you?"
"No. I am a somewhat unusual case. The other captains have no record of their Realms suddenly rising."
"Mikel, then whose will was it that dispatched you to the Imperial Capital? Someone must have given the order for you to come to the Imperial Capital and meet me, right? Isn't that so?"
"Yes... For now, I am concealing the fact that I met and spoke with Eliarnes, but my dispatch to the Imperial Capital was the will of the higher-ups."
Mikel rummaged through the documents and handed me a document containing someone's information as she spoke.
"Yusopa St. Johannidis. She is the Patriarch of the Holy Kingdom."
A document with the Patriarch's information printed on it.
Unlike the others, this document is just a single page.
Even the Executor Commander-in-Chief, who is said to be shrouded in mystery, had over three pages, yet the Patriarch has only one page.
Moreover, even that one page is less than half filled, and most of the information is unknown.
"Isn't the information a bit too sparse?"
"Yes, I also think so, but... what's written here is the information I've extracted to the fullest extent of what I know and could pull out."
A photo of a woman with long white hair and narrowed eyes is visible.
If she opened her eyes and added some voluminous waves to that hair, would she resemble Luna...? I can't tell well from the blurry photo, but she has narrowed eyes.
Narrowed eyes! She's already openly suspicious!
Her name is Yusopa St. Johannidis.
Gender: female.
Age unknown, height unknown, weight unknown, weapon unknown, Realm unknown, hometown unknown, recent movements also unknown.
"Even I could do an investigation like this, damn it."
I clicked my tongue and opened my mouth.
"Has she shown her face recently at all? Then what information is publicly known?"
"Since Sacred returned, she has not appeared in public. The figure known to the public is... actually the Patriarch's proxy."
"Wow... if that was a proxy, then she must have changed her face with magic too? Then who delivered the Patriarch's orders to you?"
Mikel took out a small crystal orb from her bosom. A crystal orb similar in shape to the one the Flame Emperor gave us. She placed it on the table and answered.
"The Patriarch's words come down only to the Executor captains. But even those do not come as a voice—they merely appear as text on this crystal orb's screen."
"Can't you meet her even when you go to pray to the Sacred Relics?"
"Yes. At least I—no... none of the Executor captains, including myself, have been granted an audience."
"Then, in your opinion, do you think the Patriarch is an enemy?"
Mikel, who had been lost in thought for a while, chewed her lips.
"It's not certain, but... in my opinion, yes. I believe she is... clearly an enemy. But precisely because of that... I even have the thought that she might not be an enemy."
"You're saying she's so openly a bitch that it might be an act. That opinion seems to have a bit of your personal feelings mixed in, Mikel?"
"'Bitch' is... your words are too..."
"Too much? Why, isn't it accurate? At this point, whether she's an enemy or not, if she did nothing while the Holy Kingdom fell into this state, then she's a bitch either way, isn't she? Well, it's not like she's bedridden with an incurable disease or dead altogether. Right?"
Mikel didn't answer my words and lowered her head. Meanwhile, I took out the pocket watch from my bosom and checked the time.
"...Until ten years ago, she was more devout and admirable than anyone. To the point of being called the birth of the next Saintess... a holy and beautiful person... that is the current Patriarch, Yusopa."
"So you can't refute the 'bitch' part."
My curiosity wasn't completely resolved yet, but I gathered up the documents Mikel had prepared and rose from my seat.
I had memorized everything, but this isn't information that's good for only me to see. I'll have to show it to Leona when she arrives soon.
"As you said earlier, Mikel—over sixty percent of the priests, the Blood Heaven Knight Order, and the Twelve Cardinals are clearly enemies, and the only ambiguous ones are the Executors and the Patriarch, right?"
"Correct."
"The Executors—well, it's not like I'd cover for them just because they're your people."
"Absolutely not."
"Good. It was a fairly productive time."
Mikel tilted her head as she looked at the right hand extended toward her.
"You're leaving already?"
"Yes."
"There are still many things I can answer and tell you."
"I do still have a lot of questions."
"Then—"
"So I'm just going to ask someone else. That person probably knows more than you do, Mikel."
Mikel blinked.
"You've prepared another informant besides me? May I ask who that person is? If you consider it with reference to my judgment, it may be of some small help. If you cannot trust me, then at least the location of that person—"
She's rambling on quite a lot for Mikel. She's probably worried I might just drop dead. She seems to think I'm the only one who can overturn this situation.
Or maybe she's genuinely worried about me as a friend?
If so, that's a little touching.
Or maybe her pride is wounded.
Whatever it is, it's funny.
Chuckling, I cut off Mikel's words.
"I'm going to Boker."
"...Excuse me? Boker is... not the Grand Temple where the Patriarch resides... D-don't tell me... ueh...?"
On Mikel's face, which showed so little change in expression that one might think she was a doll, a massive shock appeared.
And on top of that, she let out a rather stupid sound.
Whether she did or not, I spun around and started walking.
"If she won't show herself, then I'll just have to go to her."
The Saintess once said.
That merciless violence is a lubricant that smooths over uncomfortable conversations, and sometimes violence itself alone serves as an excellent means of conversation.
I really like those words.