Chapter 225: Showtime
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 225: Showtime
I had to clean up the mess.
The city was a wreck, and its believers had lost their minds.
No matter how much money I had, I certainly didn't have enough to restore an entire metropolis, not just some small town.
The city was one thing, but the people were the bigger problem.
Anticipating this, I had ordered my slaves not to kill anyone. Thanks to that, there were no casualties, but the problem lay elsewhere.
‘If I leave them like this, they’ll become lunatics.’
They were already fanatics, but at least they listened to their superiors. Now, however, it seemed their defeat at our hands had fractured their faith. They would likely doubt and defy anyone who gave them orders.
Unless, of course, a god himself descended.
‘If a god won’t descend, then I just need to bring in his representative, right?’
If you don’t have teeth, use your gums.
If there’s no bread, let them eat cake.
And what’s more, I had not one, but two people who could pass as representatives of a god.
This is totally my lucky day~☆.
I needed a plan. A plan to rebuild the city and, at the same time, restore the Church to its former state.
A brilliant idea struck me.
“Let’s put on a show.”
“A show?”
“Yes.”
The Gumiho, the Reaper, and the spirits who attacked the Holy Kingdom. And the Saint who fights against such monsters to protect the believers and her home.
Just outlining the plot, I could already hear the sound of their faith levels rising.
Of course, an ordinary performance would have little effect, but I had exceptional slaves. They were more than capable of creating a spectacle that would make chests swell and dicks harden.
There was some opposition, of course.
“Master, do we really have to go that far for them? Let’s just convert them to the Reaper’s Order. Then our church will be the biggest in the world, you know?”
“Rin, do you really want people like that joining our church?”
“…I guess I didn’t think that through.”
And just like that, the objection vanished.
The actors were ready.
It was showtime.
*
Beneath the moonlight, Kassilon lay in ruins.
The Reaper’s shadow foretold death, the yokai’s energy spread madness, and the spirits rampaged through the Holy Kingdom as if it were their playground.
The fallen cross was soaked in blood, and voices that once sang hymns turned one by one into screams, then faded away.
“God… has abandoned us…”
Their prayers went unanswered, and no miracle came. Even the Saint they had so firmly believed in could not overcome the successive disasters.
Some believers gave in to despair; others fell to their knees and wept.
Their faith was shaken.
Despair spread like a groan.
But then.
A pure white light blossomed.
A light like the hope the Holy Kingdom had lost.
From within the brilliantly burning corona, Saint Elize arose.
A pure white halo, cleansed of blood, spun fiercely. The radiance she emitted was as bright as the dawn itself, bathing Kassilon in light.
The Reaper’s deathly aura was pushed back, and the Gumiho’s demonic energy dissipated.
The battle had begun anew.
An intense monster battle, reminiscent of the apocalypse.
The Reaper swung his scythe, firing off a slash of energy, while the Gumiho launched a massive fox-fire, like a meteor. Each time, the Saint blocked the attack.
The shockwave sent the great temple’s cross toppling down. Beneath it were the children of the convent.
Unable to watch, the people turned their eyes away.
But what followed was not the sound of a crash, nor a scream, but a gasp of awe. The falling cross had stopped in mid-air, then began to rise back toward the sky.
And that wasn’t all. Wherever the Saint’s light touched, the devastated streets and buildings were restored.
The Saint offered a gentle smile.
“Do not worry, everyone. God is with us. He does not ignore our prayers. An oracle has descended.”
“Ah…!”
“As we knew…!”
Overcome with emotion, the believers clutched their crosses and shed tears.
“It’s a miracle…”
No one refuted the whispered words.
It was a miracle.
The Saint had come to deliver the will of the great God.
But her opponents were not to be underestimated.
A fierce storm of the spirits’ blades blew forth. Unable to block it all, the Saint’s robes were torn.
Her white skin glowed faintly in the moonlight.
The believers held their breath.
Her form, usually hidden beneath solemn, heavy vestments, was now visible.
To even imagine what lay beneath was blasphemy.
To lay eyes upon it was never permitted.
It was a sight that should have been considered a sin.
And yet, or perhaps because of that, they could not look away.
Through the loose, fluttering fabric, her thigh flashed in and out of view. A trim abdomen, a shallow, straight navel, and a slender waistline revealed by the wind.
And though she was clearly attacked from the front, for some reason, the elegant curve of her back was also exposed.
But no one questioned it.
They had no capacity to care about such trivial details.
“Ngh…”
Blushing as if in shame, the Saint tried to cover her exposed skin with her arms.
This only stirred the believers’ hearts even more.
The Saint’s precarious, thrilling state.
“Now this is a miracle…”
The believers, especially the men, would have said in unison.
This wasn’t lewd; it was sacred. A grace and elegance that only a noble being could possess. It was as mystical as if it were blessed by God’s own grace.
This wasn’t blasphemy; it was worship.
To look away from this would be the true sacrilege.
You who do not believe in God.
Look upon the Saint.
God exists.
End of the defendant’s statement.
The Saint had awakened, but the situation was still not easily resolved. The believers could only clasp their hands and watch with bated breath.
“Why do you remain on your knees?”
A familiar old man’s voice echoed from the balcony of the great temple. Startled, the believers turned their heads.
There stood a man, framed by a grand spear engraved with a set of scales. He was old, yet his somewhat raccoon-like features gave him a gentle air.
He was the father figure the believers had followed for so long, the beacon of the Holy Kingdom.
The former Pope, Antonius.
“Was your faith so shallow?”
“Your Holiness?”
“It’s the Pope! His Holiness has returned!”
Cries of joy and emotion erupted.
The Saint and the Pope, together in one place!
A thrilling shiver ran through the believers’ bodies.
“Do not grovel. Rise. Raise your hands and offer your faith to the Saint.”
Antonius raised the papal ferula. A pure white light flowed from it to the Saint.
Following his lead, the believers rose one by one and lifted their hands to the sky.
The Saint, who threw herself into the fray for the sake of the Church without giving up, and the former Pope, who rushed back the moment the Holy Kingdom was in danger.
A situation that would be criticized even in a novel was happening in reality.
In this moment, it felt as if the world was a stage set just for them. Even a meticulously staged play couldn’t have been this perfect.
If this wasn’t a miracle, what was?
An uncontrollable thrill coursed through every corner of the believers’ bodies.
“You can do it, Saint!”
“Please take my strength, Saint!”
The prayers grew louder.
A wave of prayer, like a great tide, washed over the people of the Holy Kingdom, binding them as one.
Their united faith converged on the Saint.
“Thank you, everyone. I think I can win because of you.”
Smiling brightly, Elize turned to face her enemies.
A massive magic circle formed in the sky.
“Take this! Our faith, our conviction!”
With a powerful declaration, Elize swept her arm down.
Giant pillars of black and white light fell to the earth.
Genesis—God’s punishment, which set right the chaotic order and returned the world to its beginning.
The Reaper and the Gumiho could not withstand the attack and collapsed helplessly.
“Incredible! Everything else is untouched, but only the enemies are taking damage!”
“To think she’d be so considerate of us even in a situation like this…! Sob, that’s our Saint!”
“This pillar of light… I can’t feel any divine power from it!”
“Of course a mere human body can’t perceive God’s power, which is on another dimension! Just as we cannot always feel it, God is always with us!”
Any such minor questions were swept away without a trace before the overwhelming tide of faith.
Fear and despair were gone, replaced by a festive atmosphere throughout the Holy Kingdom.
The Reaper and the Gumiho, who had seemed invincible, finally fell. They shattered with a crisp sound and scattered into dust.
Silence fell.
“Is it over?”
“Did we win?”
Elize smiled.
“Yes, everyone. We won. This is our victory.”
“Waaaaaah! We did it! We won!”
“All hail the Saint! All hail the Order of Balance! All hail Lord Ordo!”
A chorus of cheers echoed, loud enough to shake the Holy Kingdom.
The wavering Church had been united as one under the Saint. Elize had, without a doubt, been reborn as a true Saint.
“What a farce.”
At the back of the crowd, Rin grumbled with cold eyes.
In her hand was a magic club she had stolen from a dokkaebi. She tapped it here and there, thump, thump, repairing the broken buildings.
“Haha… Well, everyone seems happy, so I guess it’s all good, right?”
Beside her, Mirabelle offered a wry smile, her magic twinkling as she, too, restored the streets.
While the actors and the audience enjoyed the show, they were the staff, cleaning up afterward.
“Just a little more effort, please. I’ll give you a reward when we get back.”
And then there was the planner and producer.
Director Karami.
From start to finish, everything had been a performance planned by Karami.
A blockbuster-level production with stunningly realistic effects.
A Saint revered by the Church.
A living-legend Pope who had suddenly disappeared, only to return to save his people in their moment of crisis.
A production designed to make everyone feel included by having them contribute their power, complete with a fanservice scene of the Saint’s armor being destroyed.
It was packed to the brim with nothing but dopamine-spiking elements.
‘How could they not love it?’
They absolutely couldn’t resist.
The believers’ minds were already in the palm of his hand.