Chapter 127
Chapter 127
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 127
Chapter Title: Butterfly's Dream (5)
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*
Major heresy incidents that would occur from this point onward. Events and individuals that would deal devastating blows to human civilization. And information on their weakest moments and the most suitable positions to strike.
That precious intelligence, which Torchmen scattered across the world were desperately hunting down with fire in their eyes, now poured from Fernandez's mouth.
"What the hell is this...?"
Zephys couldn't close his gaping mouth. If one were to appraise Fernandez's information purely by value... Well, it might not even be enough if every inquisitor in the Inquisition staked their lives on it.
Fernandez spoke calmly, tapping the desk with his fingers. Tap, tap.
"So, do you believe me now?"
"How much of this is true?"
"Start by cross-verifying the parts that can be checked from this point in time."
"Were you a prophet?"
"Ah, even I'm not sure about that."
Prophecy. Fernandez stroked his neatly trimmed beard. Perhaps it really had been a prophetic dream. His memories of the past year. If this was reality, what was wrong with calling it a prophetic dream?
But one could never be certain... Fernandez fixed his sharp gaze on Zephys, whose face had gone pale and rigid.
"That's why I'm making the offer. Will you join hands with me?"
"What do you get out of it?"
"I already told Brother Fabiano... I guess that didn't get passed on. A happy life or a grand thought experiment. You'll get at least one of them."
"I never thought you'd wish for a happy life."
"Who wouldn't?"
Fernandez twisted his lips into a smirk. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. His forearm came into view, adorned with elaborate tattoos. A demon devouring the sun, surrounded by countless runes.
A thoroughly heretical tattoo. Zephys frowned at the sight.
"Don't think we'll blindly trust you. Heretic."
"That's why I'm proposing a deal, not trust. Let's just... narrow the gap between us a little."
Fernandez slowly lifted his teacup, bursting into laughter. In the flickering candlelight, his shadowed face seemed to distort.
The typical look of a mage corrupted by evil. Of course, Zephys didn't judge heresy by appearances... But his long career as an inquisitor made his instincts scream louder than ever in this moment.
"This isn't something I can decide alone."
"Do as you wish. I don't have much time. But you don't either. For now, yes. Don't trust the elves, be wary of the northerners, kill King Helrga of Dane Kingdom without fail, investigate the Fairn Kingdom. These can't be put off any longer."
At Fernandez's words, Zephys paled and stood. He couldn't believe everything the man said, but before verifying the truth, his immediate duty was to report this to the Church.
*
An era where demons grinned from every shadow. Where the righteous were strung up on gibbets, sages fell to madness, nuns committed fornication, and heroes were poisoned.
Fernandez sat at the front of the carriage, cracking the whip to urge the horses on. He was slowly climbing a mountain path strewn with autumn leaves.
The driver's seat was, bluntly put, not comfortable. The oil lamp hanging in front creaked on rusty hinges.
Mountain villages in this era were dangerous. In truth, no journey in this time was truly safe. Just beyond cities and villages, demons, corrupted minions, wild beasts, and monsters appeared sporadically.
Take this scene, for instance.
-Prffft!
The horses whinnied in panic and halted. Fernandez slowly released the reins, eyeing the corpse slumped by the roadside and the Walker devouring it.
-Crunch, crunch.
The Walker tore into the traveler-clad corpse with dull eyes, silently. The body's abdomen was ripped open, maggots spilling entrails across the dirt road.
A common sight. Fernandez drew a dagger from his bosom, aimed briefly, and hurled it.
-Thunk!
The dagger sank cleanly into the Walker's skull. It collapsed dead, a chunk of flesh still in its mouth. Not worth wasting magic on. But these things infested the mountains in this era.
A Walker outbreak had spread through the mountains near Fairn. The Bronze Scales had been left on the brink of death in their power struggle with Demdrizad, but the plague they'd unleashed was ravaging every province of the Eastern Kingdom Alliance.
"Teacher?"
"Don't come out, Aria. Rest."
"Is something wrong?"
"No."
Fernandez turned the reins, leading the frightened horses. From inside the carriage came the quiet rustle of turning pages. On journeys, Aria always read the spellbooks he'd written for her.
"Hoo."
Fernandez uncorked his canteen, took a swig of water, and readjusted the reins. The road to the Empire was relatively straight and safe. But he couldn't use it.
His deal with the Beitasser Church had succeeded, but to the Empire, he was still a wanted rogue mage.
-Clop, clop.
He gazed at the dimly lit night road by the lamp, the dark, endless path stretching on. Monsters could leap from anywhere in these mountains, so he couldn't rest or sleep easily.
"It's a tough journey for someone my age."
But one he couldn't entrust to anyone else. At least Aria was safest by his side.
Staring into the night, he pondered. Where to start? First, when he neared Imperial territory, contact the Inquisition.
*
"Your words were true."
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear that."
Fernandez chuckled, meeting Pope Paul IV's eyes. Countless spells bound his body, and he knelt in a sealing circle crafted by the Religiosa Enmagicka.
Since being summoned to the Inquisition, the inquisitors' attitudes toward him had been uniform: unease, hatred, rage, disgust. Sharp, icy distrust that seemed ready to cut out his tongue if he spoke.
And after the Pope decided to visit personally, his situation worsened. Relentless barriers blocking his mana, round-the-clock surveillance by Heretica, crossbows and daggers trained on him at all times.
Even now, only after kneeling in the chapel's center, heavy sword at his side, before the spears and blades of dozens of inquisitors, could he finally meet Paul IV.
Paul slowly rolled his rosary in his hand, lost in thought.
"Faith isn't born in a moment, nor is the river between us easily crossed. How many of our brothers lost their lives by your hand?"
"I never struck first. They came to kill me."
"Have you cleanly forgotten your past of slaughtering innocents, poisoning heroes, and leading priests to apostasy?"
"My memory's not that good."
As Fernandez grinned slyly, fury erupted from the inquisitors around him.
-Shrrrk!
"Gah!"
"Want me to remind you?"
"You'll regret it."
The chains binding his neck and arms yanked viciously, slamming him to the floor. Fernandez giggled, staring up at the inquisitor thrusting a spear tip at him.
"How exactly will we regret it? Heretic, what can you even do right now?"
"Kill me, and you lose. You'll almost certainly lose. Before things get worse, while civilization still has the strength to overcome this era. There are mountains of issues to fix."
"That's true. Lower your weapons, brothers."
-Swish.
Zephys pressed down the spear tips and stepped forward. He gazed down at Fernandez with sunken eyes, then slowly bowed to the Pope.
"Your Holiness, no falsehoods were found in his testimony."
"I received the report. Yes, it was true."
"That doesn't mean we can trust him. But we can use him."
"Continue."
"I humbly request, here and now, the creation of a new division."
Zephys stood beside Fernandez. The sight of a Demonica sheltering a heretic shocked the inquisitors, murmurs rising among them.
-Thud.
"A papal decree. Silence."
An old man slammed his wooden staff on the floor with a shout. Fernandez smirked at the frail-looking elder. Another familiar face.
'Marco Sundail...'
Inquisitors are the light that reveals truth through reason and rationality. The kindly middle-aged man's words flashed in his mind.
"A new division?"
"The one who knows demons' weaknesses best may be the demons themselves. We've been content sealing their unholy weapons, tricks, arms, and relics in the Great Seal War. But like a worm in a lion's heart toppling the lion, Your Holiness. I propose creating a new division that uses the Great Seal War to purify heresy with heresy."
"Isn't that dangerous?"
'It is said: Let not your path be one of moderation, for that is your shame. Protect not yourselves, but the Lord's flock in peace. Walk the thorny path willingly and pave the way with your blood.'
"The Lord knows what you seek and will grant it manifold."
"Amen."
At Zephys's words, Paul sighed and made the sign of the cross briefly. Zephys swallowed and continued.
"Thus, we will use this man and recruit other heretics willing to judge their own kind. And I will lead them, taking full responsibility and oversight."
"With your strength and wisdom, you can certainly control this mage... Yes. Approved."
The Pope closed his eyes briefly. Holy Pantheon, bless us. This decision was unprecedented in the Church's long history.
Incorporating a heretic into the Inquisition, the purest arm of the Church. A notion too abhorrent to voice.
If the Pope deciding this felt this way, what of Zephys, who had to propose it? The Pope could read his turmoil and unease.
Yet outwardly, Zephys was stone-still. Seeing this, the Pope finally nodded.
"Very well. We all—I included—can trust and entrust this to you. Proceed as you see fit."
"I will not betray that faith."
"Then the Inquisition shall have a fourth division."
The Pope clapped to lighten the mood, speaking in a brighter tone.
"What will you name this division?"
"Religiosa Maledica: Order of Sin."
Zephys looked down at Fernandez, chained and kneeling. His bare torso was covered in apostate images worshiping demons and heretics, filled with wicked runes.
A horned demon, tongue lolling as if to devour sun, fields, and mountains, sprawled across his back and arms.
Sin. Was there a word that suited him better? Paul lowered his rosary slowly, murmuring like a prayer.
"May the Lord embrace even their sins."
"No."
Fernandez, who had only listened silently, looked up from his knees into Paul's eyes.
"May our enemies drown in them."
My sins and regrets are more than enough for that. Fernandez twisted his lips into a smirk.