Altar of Blasphemy
The Altar of Light was one of the three most sacred places revered by the Holy Knight Order. There was the training grounds where knights were forged, the Central Temple where the saintess offered her prayers, and the Altar of Light where the priests conducted sacrifices to the god.
The chief priest Dutebe, dispatched directly by the Holy Emperor himself, oversaw everything at that Altar of Light. Offering sacrifices to the god was a gravely solemn duty within the church, one that permitted no interference from anyone except the obligated participants. To disrupt it was to invite the church's harshest judgment without recourse.
"...What in the world are you doing?"
Dutebe, in the midst of the day's rituals, stared in considerable dismay at the saintess Rose, who had suddenly appeared and placed her hand on the altar.
"You know well that no one but me is allowed to touch the altar right before the sacrifice is offered."
"Not even I, who hears the voice of the god?"
Dutebe swallowed dryly at Rose's question. Logically, it made sense, but it violated the church's strict rules.
"It's the regulation set by the Holy Emperor. There must be a valid reason for it, of course."
"......"
"There are many eyes watching. Are you trying to halt the sacrifice?"
Cold sweat beaded on Dutebe's bald head. His wrinkled eyelids trembled faintly. It was that unprecedented—an intervention by the saintess in the sacrifice.
Her role was to pray to the god, listen to its voice, and relay it. Upon being chosen, she gained immense holy power, which she used to support the Knight Order. That was why she belonged not to the church but to the Holy Knight Order. She was a living sanctuary, leading every battle for the Holy Kingdom to victory.
"Do you remember when my hearing was damaged, Chief Priest Dutebe?"
Dutebe flinched at the abrupt question.
"When your hearing was damaged?"
"Yes."
Rose recalled that day. On a rainy afternoon, at Dutebe's request—claiming the Holy Emperor had ordered a new altar installed—she had attended the site to offer construction prayers. The weather was foul, ill-suited for installation, but Dutebe insisted the date was divinely appointed and pressed on. Unthinkable as refusing a church request was back then, Rose knelt on the wet ground amid the storm and continued her prayers. And when she opened her eyes...
The altar was complete, yet no one else was in sight. Instead, there stood Mass—someone who hadn't been there before the installation. He was the very one who had made her a saintess.
On the verge of madness from unexplained cacophony, he had infused her with his own holy power, realigning her intricate inner ear nerves. Thanks to him, the noise-filled clamor cleared into pure sound. He himself had fallen ill for days from the backlash, and she had nursed him. Seeing him at her first altar construction prayer site, she had joyfully assumed he had come to watch over her.
"You must remember what happened then."
Unlike her brief assumption, Mass had only gazed at her a moment before fleeing somewhere. As she puzzled over it, lightning struck the altar without warning.
"An unprecedented bolt hit this altar, and the thunderclap ruptured both my eardrums."
The god's voice came as a 'whisper,' receivable only with intact ears. With her eardrums torn, she could no longer hear it properly, and her uniquely structured eardrums resisted even healing magic's prompt regeneration.
"You said it was all Mass's doing, Chief Priest Dutebe."
A lightning rod pierced the altar's sacrificial platform—an artifact shaped like a spear to draw all thunder.
"That he had set it up and fled."
"That was... already settled, wasn't it?"
"I thought so too. After all, Mass never came to see me again."
Mass made excuses and barely participated in the investigation. Dutebe had found evidence that Mass possessed the artifact and informed Rose. Suspicion sprouted; delving into Mass, she found his writing: to ruin her—the strongest saintess in history with unparalleled holy power—then have her beg him to fix it, binding her unbound potential with a holy power restraint contract to propel himself to Holy Emperor.
It was unmistakably Mass's handwriting. Verified. The seed of doubt grew into a stem, bloomed, and clouded her vision.
"Even though he had saved me, I believed he had to be expelled for the good of all. You helped make that happen, Chief Priest Dutebe."
"Why bring that up now...?"
"Chief Priest Dutebe."
She caressed the altar as she spoke.
"Was what Mass inserted truly a lightning rod?"
"What are you saying?"
"After losing my hearing here, I eventually healed my eardrums, but I couldn't hear the god's voice. By then, the Demon King's power had grown, blocking the whispers themselves."
It was too perfect.
"As if someone had ensured I couldn't hear it for a long time."
"That was Mass's doing. You know that well."
"Others seem unaware. The god's voice delivers only vital prophecies."
Rose fixed Dutebe with a pale stare.
"But that's not true."
The god conveyed even trivial thoughts to her. Dutebe's face drained of color upon hearing this.
"Wh-what did you hear?"
"You needn't know. I've long since become a suspicious soul, judging truth by what I see rather than hear."
Even she, who preached the god's word as infallible, knew it was mere slogan.
"But today, I saw this."
Her gaze turned to the altar. Dutebe and the nearby priests followed suit.
Etched into the altar were circuit-like engravings.
"In the past, I thought these were mere decorations."
"Rose...!"
"Dealing with the Demon King teaches you otherwise inevitably."
Those circuits channeled mana into objects. This altar had artificially become an artifact momentarily.
"Wasn't the altar itself an artifact targeting me, summoning that lightning?"
"What blasphemy is this!"
Dutebe shouted hastily.
"It's merely to amplify the altar's holy power! Worn patterns from use! Accusing on mere speculation is too much, even for a saintess!"
"Yes, it might seem that way."
Dutebe caught his ragged breath as Rose acquiesced readily.
"Do you understand now? What you've done?"
"That's why I intend to test it."
Rose caressed the altar.
"Fortunately, traces remain. Restoring the circuit should recreate it. I can verify if Mass's insertion mitigated the lightning even slightly."
"What?!"
"A reinvestigation."
She could guess why Mass fled, but confirmation was needed. The factual results, at least, she could verify and correct.
"Chief Priest, I request your cooperation."
"Rose!"
Dutebe reached out.
"You appear out of nowhere just to demand this?! Repaying the grace of saving you from that demon like this?! Craving even greater power?!"
"That's the reaction I wanted to see."
Rose replied calmly.
"It seems recreation is possible, after all."
Dutebe's eyes widened.
"What did you say?"
"I know such reckless demands ill suit me. But my heart has changed."
Yuria.
She had clearly learned something about Mass. The regret in her expression at the training grounds was unmistakable. On their journey against the Demon King, as members of the elite knight order, Rose knew it wasn't mere coincidence. Thus, per the god's reprimand, she decided to reprove those around her. If it was truly divine guidance, it would show answers here too.
"Then, by the saintess's authority, I declare a reinvestigation of this altar."
"No!"
Dutebe glanced around, shouting.
"Stop this blasphemy at once! Even a saintess cannot be tolerated!"
"I'll bear the consequences of the results."
At her words, the Holy Horse Master strode toward the altar, mace—the god's judgment—in hand.
"Just protect me, please."
Her body, surging with holy power, was enveloped in white light.
"Now, let's confirm the god's will."
That day, nearby residents witnessed it: the flood of white light, the crunch of the mace crushing something, and lightning repeatedly striking from a clear sky, as if verifying truth.
Afterward, rumors spread that the saintess had demolished the altar, smashed the priests' heads, and vanished.
Nameless Village.
After a village meeting yielded no results, Mass returned home and was eating the mushroom soup Irin had made.
"Mass! Tasty, right?"
When he ignored even her question, Irin muttered with a pout.
"It is tasty... Why are you so strict?"
Mass paused his spoon at her words.
Rose.
After becoming saintess, she struggled under the harsh rules imposed on her. Her purity made it so. Thus, she fell for the trap disguised as an altar.
For Rose to wield greater holy power, trials were needed. Knowing the trap, Mass couldn't fully save her. He merely...
'Hoped no scars would remain.'
He had sabotaged the altar's circuit completion to weaken the lightning enough not to scorch her body. Failing to flee before she awoke bought suspicion, but explanation was futile. Those wary of his growing power with the saintess had rigged the interrogation entirely.
'But ignorance doesn't absolve guilt.'
Even without the god's voice, one must judge right from wrong. Rose failed. She harbored hatred from others' planted doubts, tormenting Mass daily by recklessly probing his holy power nerves.
"Irin."
Mass addressed her, staring solely at him from beside.
"You eat too. Who knows how long we can have this mushroom soup."
With only the encroaching threat of Red Wolf Forest in mind, he lifted his spoon again.