Chapter 138
Chapter 138
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 138
Chapter Title: Dispatch Mission Report: Desert Acrobatics
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*
Zephys set down the pen for the fifth time already, intending to draft the report to submit to the Inquisition and the Papal Court, only to let out a deep sigh and place it back down.
Organizing and forwarding the reports submitted from the field was his primary duty, and he had always prided himself on being quite adept at it. But he had no idea how to organize this report, brimming with countless attachments and outlandish tales.
-Tok.
Zephys pressed a hand to his forehead and glared at the report from Fernandez. If his gaze alone could pierce something, the report would already be in tatters.
"Hoo..."
With another deep sigh, Zephys merely added a single line as a postscript to Fernandez's report. There was nothing to add or subtract. He didn't even dare to try.
He scribbled the one-line postscript at the end of the report and applied a wax seal to the envelope.
Beorn would make the judgment beyond this... It was a vague hope mingled with something close to shirking responsibility.
-Chalruk.
He took out his rosary, wrapped it around the back of his hand, and clasped his hands together on the desk. Lord, forgive me for having no choice but to pass on the responsibility. I dare not judge this situation myself.
Their god remained silent, as always.
*
[Attention: Urgent Order No. 221. Access to these documents is restricted to quasi-first-class archbishops or higher.]
[Dispatch Mission Report: Desert Acrobatics]
Operation Area: Western Great Wastelands, Mosat City.
Operation Summary: Approval of the Ironside Empire's confidential dispatch mission request from the Levintear Empire (Attachment 1). Tracking traces of a Necropolis in ruins near Mosat City.
Operation Progress:
1) Contact with the Sultan's Shakshi during search operations in Mosat City.
2) Discovery of the seal on the Necropolis buried underground in Mosat City.
3) Necropolis seal destroyed due to unauthorized bombardment by Ironside forces. Damage limited to the seal site through the elimination of field agent Albert and Shakshi Sadia Amal.
4) Necropolis wraiths released into the Great Wastelands as a result of the seal's destruction (Attachment 2: Mosat City Beacon Incident).
5) Collaboration with Shakshi to ascertain that the remaining Necropolis seals had been destroyed (Attachment 3: Three Dynasties Beacon Incidents).
6) Total of three wraith warlord armies formed in the Great Wastelands (Attachment 4: Power Structure in the Great Wastelands at Outbreak).
7) Field investigation determines reduced influence of the Great Demon (Attachment 5: Individual Data Report / Fernandez).
8) Commencement of preliminary investigative trial for Great Demon subjugation. Linkage with nearby beastkin tiger tribe.
*
-Thud.
It was the sound of the pen Beorn was holding snapping. Beorn paused for a moment before tossing it into the wastebin. Several pens that had met the same fate were already piled inside.
The report had been fully disassembled, with attachments scattered across the desk. Beorn picked up one of the attached maps and drew a line on it.
"Mosat City."
The incident's origin was clearly the investigation of the ruins buried beneath that oasis trading city. And then Ironside suddenly began shelling? This was one of the pieces of information they had grasped in advance. It was likely true.
In the midst of that, Fernandez survived and linked up with the local Shakshi to halt the bombardment. As a field agent, it was an exceedingly clever judgment. That was possible.
But then, suddenly, the influence of a Great Demon was mentioned? Beorn opened the report detailing Fernandez's "personal basis for judgment" and pushed up his monocle.
*
The public stance proclaimed by the Three Dynasties to neighboring nations was to assert their own independence and sovereignty, claiming ownership of the Great Wastelands.
Each of the three wraith lords, divided into army groups, allied with entirely different factions or waged war against alliance forces of the other dynasties.
Based on this fact, as a field agent, I judged that the wraith lords possess independent egos and a desire to realize them.
If we substitute the wraith lords of the three army groups with secular dynasties of the material world, the following hypothesis is necessary to make this possible.
(1) The wraith lords are minions of the Great Demon.
[1] This can be confirmed in Ironside's letter of cooperation (Attachment 6: Dane Kingdom's Wraith Lord).
(2) This suggests that the Great Demon's influence projected onto each wraith lord has diminished.
[1] Each wraith lord did not act in linkage with one another or for a single identifiable purpose serving the Great Demon.
To prove this hypothesis, the field agent made contact with a high-ranking commanding entity of one wraith army group. Through information exchange with said entity, the hypothesis was verified as true.
*
Reading up to there, Beorn removed his glasses and pressed at the corners of his eyes.
"The moment his dispatch area was bombarded, he inferred the culprit, linked up with their adversary, and stopped the bombardment..."
An exceedingly astute and clever judgment, but within the realm of possibility. Beorn glared at the map with his fatigue-weary eyes.
"Wraith nations arose immediately after the bombardment..."
That was the result, separate from the field agent's judgment. Beorn tapped the desk twice and set down the report.
"The moment the wraith nations arose claiming independence, he judged that the Great Demon behind them had weakened. He made contact with high-ranking elements of said nation... and proved his judgment true."
Was this a judgment a human could make? From someone caught in the shifting power struggles of the wastelands?
In a dire situation where even an ordinary person would struggle to find a way to survive, where a highly trained elite agent would prioritize mere survival...
"He devised a plan to slay the Great Demon and resolve the crisis?"
Generally speaking, one cannot see the storm from within it. A chess piece cannot see the board. A foot soldier in the midst of battle has no way to grasp the war situation. That is common sense.
Yet this "saint" accomplished it. Right in the heart of the turbulent wasteland. Not merely to survive, but with resolving the crisis as his foremost goal!
Impossible at such a young age? No, impossible regardless of age. Impossible for an ordinary person? No, this is impossible for any human. At least, for anyone within the bounds of common sense.
"This brother... does not regard life as life."
Beorn realized it like a bolt of lightning. Every piece of data in this report, every basis for Fernandez's judgments and all actions stemming from them, had not once considered his own life.
Indeed. Beorn finally realized. Saints possess the immortal stigmata. Their thinking must be entirely different from that of ordinary people. Since they do not die, they do not regard life as life.
Impossible for humans? Even for those who value life like dust, there is the common sense shared by mortals at the foundation. But this "saint" lacked that.
"He was thinking... like an immortal. Brother."
Beorn turned his eyes to the map and drew a deep breath. Out there beyond, the brother now returning to the Order. He had acted with an immortal's mindset.
And...
*
12) Elimination of the wraith lord of the northern Great Wastelands wraith army group, Tutan Gartep.
13) Secured passage to the Necropolis using said wraith lord's relic.
14) Execution of Great Demon extermination operation.
15) Elimination of the Necropolis Great Demon Mumto; field agent lost stigmata in the process.
16) Confirmed destruction of the Necropolis (Attachment 8: Shakshi Field Observation Report).
17) Contact with tiger tribe alliance, subsequent return to the Eastern Federation.
Operation Task Force Team.
1) Demonica, Fernandez Cerned – Returned
2) Torchman, Kirhas Hearttaker – Returned
3) Torchman, Abel – Returned
We shall burn demons, heretics, and witches.
Operation Leader: Demonica Fernandez Cerned.
Reviewer: Demonica Zephys Shiradast.
*
Beorn stared piercingly at a single line included in the report's final paragraph. It was in Zephys's handwriting.
[Review Attachment] Request for convocation of the Sainthood Advisory Council.
Beorn suppressed the whirlwind of emotions in his mind and clutched his forehead. The saint had lost his stigmata.
Stigmata were the symbol and proof bestowed by God upon a saint. Losing them was akin to blasphemy bordering on apostasy.
However, if it was expended in slaying a Great Demon...? If all of this was part of God's design? If granting stigmata to this saint was God's plan for the Great Demon's destruction?
A saint is not merely one who bears stigmata. Sainthood is an honorary title conferred upon a holy person through the achievements spanning their entire life.
Thus, Zephys's requested Sainthood Advisory Council... meant designating Fernandez as a true "saint."
Separate from the presence or absence of stigmata, his achievements were not those of a mortal.
"He slew... a Great Demon..."
In this era—no, across the entire history of civilized society. An unprecedented feat that had never occurred even once.
Even in the distant ancient times, amid the fierce struggles of the War in Heaven, no Great Demon had ever been exterminated.
In an age where the evil of civilized society spreads like mold, where demons howl in every shadow. That was what Beorn had known, and he believed it only worsened day by day.
Thus, for the Inquisitors—the torches and bulwarks guarding the foremost front of human civilization—the choice was simple.
To steer this era toward the lesser evil of doom and depravity, rather than the worst outcome.
Even if the price was their own lives, willingly. For the ashes left behind would testify to their once-shining light.
Yet Beorn gazed at the map as he thought that far. The continental overview marked with countless symbols.
Records of agents gone missing in the field, their fates unknown, and this year's heresy incidents.
"If the sight we behold in our final moments is not doom."
Lord, grant us an answer. Was this Your plan?
"If the only choice we thought we had was not our lesser evil."
If a best outcome exists. If the final demon can finally breathe its last, and order and justice can fully dawn upon civilized society... if such a future is possible.
"Then the herald of that would be the death of a Great Demon."
Beorn began drafting a letter to the Papal Court. A polite proposal requesting the convocation of the Sainthood Advisory Council.
*
Fernandez struggled to maintain a straight face as he looked at the heaving Ludwig. The sensation of holding the sword felt utterly different.
'My body feels too light...?'
A body infused with Demonica divinity generally matched or fell just short of a swordsman at their peak.
While the sanctified Demonica body could be mass-produced through rituals if the material was suitable, it did not enhance swordsmanship talent or technique.
Peak swordsmen wield mana, elevating their physical prowess. Ludwig was one such swordsman.
Ludwig had let his guard down, and Fernandez had given his all. Yet his body's output was extraordinary.
-Chang!
Ludwig's sword strike was close enough to read. Their blades intertwined; Fernandez parried with the flat and snatched the strike away in a rebound, all in just two moves.
-Sring.
Just before the blade reached Ludwig's throat, he hastily retreated and wildly swung his sword to shake it off. He created distance, stood there, and gazed at Fernandez with a dazed expression.
"Round Table Knight Albert... If it's not rude, might I ask your age...?"
"Seventeen."
"...Damn it all. A monster."
Ludwig chuckled dryly and sheathed his longsword. The knights lined up around them erupted in admiration all at once. It had been a fierce clash, but an overwhelming victory.
"My apologies. I withdraw the insults I directed at you and sincerely beg your forgiveness. My words were rash."
"Impressive. For a knight commander to be so humble?"
"What use is arrogance in this state?"
Ludwig laughed heartily and shrugged. The mission given by the royals when dispatching him had been to best a Round Table Knight, and with that failure, there was no need to play the role of "arrogant foreign noble."
It had never suited him anyway. Ludwig chuckled.
"If you were five years older, the outcome might have been different."
"You're humble indeed. As expected of one called the symbol of chivalry. But no. If I were five years younger, I'd have been five years less refined. You are the superior knight."
Ludwig looked deeply at Fernandez before turning and exiting the training yard. Abel approached with a dry towel and wiped his forehead as he spoke.
"Your swordsmanship has improved greatly. It's hard to believe it's just one month."
"I got lucky."
"Luck, you say... Well, rest and tell me what happened in the meantime. If you haven't eaten yet, would you care to join me?"
"Gladly."
Fernandez took the towel from Abel, wiped his neck, and replied. Abel watched him with a gentle smile.