Crossroads (4)
Crossroads (4)
Dimona gritted her teeth. That barrier was sturdier than she had expected.
It had grown several times stronger than the original Sacred Barrier.
Ashval Haltz stroked his beard.
"It seems breaking through as we are will be difficult. It's going to take quite a long time."
"You're right."
"Is there no other way in?"
"There isn't. The Sacred Barrier is spread out in a circle. It wraps around everything, even underground. Your Excellency, there's only one way."
She wanted to conserve her strength, but there was no helping it.
A crack.
Creating one was the best option.
"I'll smash it myself."
"...Aren't you pushing yourself too hard?"
"I have to push myself. From the look of it, they've been planning this for a long time. We're the ones who are far behind in preparation time."
"Once that barrier is breached and we advance beyond it... didn't you say the Judge would take on Archbishop Dwayne?"
"I'll do that, and I'll do this too."
"Will that be possible?"
"I'll just have to do it first and see."
Hadn't someone taught her?
"Because nothing changes if you just sit still!"
Sacred Power flowed down the drawn sword. Dimona's eyes blazed red.
The Sacred Power enveloping her entire body erupted like mad. The inquisitors who had been trying to break the Holy Arts flinched in surprise.
"What in the...!"
"Such terrifying Sacred Power...!"
The First Divine Judge's eyes flew wide. The archbishop's voice faltered.
"This is absurd...! This is nearly on par with an apostle...!"
"An amount a mere priest should never possess...!"
It surged. Flames of Sacred Power coiled in the wind and burst forth like mad.
The sword covered in Sacred Flame twisted. Its very framework changed and settled completely into place.
Shape Transformation.
The power to transform the weapon she held into a weapon from the scriptures of Ra.
But she went beyond even that. Dimona knew.
She knew how powerless she had been. How she had merely floundered inside the city called Paramer.
"...More."
She had worked herself to death.
Even after her official duties ended, she had not gone to bed.
She had returned to when she first became an inquisitor, gritting her teeth and training late into the night.
She used the night like the day. Sleeping only two hours a day was enough.
So that when the worst situation came, she would not become powerless again.
So that she could protect everything she had resolved to protect.
The power she had honed for the Fifth Inquisition Office devoured the Shape Transformation. A faint but unmistakable "Angel's Halo" from the power she had raised covered Dimona's head.
The power beyond Shape Transformation. A realm even apostles could not easily dream of.
Partial Deification.
She had not been chosen by a god, but the power built through her own genius and bone-grinding effort touched the heavens. The wall that had blocked her, that she had not been able to cross, shattered, and all the experience she had accumulated exploded in a single moment.
The power to alter and twist the fate she had been given.
"Th-this... what on earth..."
Ashval flinched and stepped back. His eyes widened at the wind of erupting flames.
"How many apostles does the Sun God Church have...!"
"I'm not an apostle."
Her irises, dyed red, burned completely. The flames condensed. They coiled around the sword and, for a moment, fell silently still.
A different feeling from Paramer, where she had simply detonated her Sacred Power with all her might.
Dimona stepped forward.
"I'm a Judge."
The sword touched the sacred barrier, which had seemed eternally unyielding, covered in hundreds of Holy Arts, with a soft tap.
A sword to judge heresy. A sword to protect what was hers.
Crunch.
The sound was small. So faint it could barely be heard. It was no more than sticking a toothpick into a giant beast.
But the crack that began eventually swallowed everything.
Dimona raised her eyes. She put more strength into the sword that had left only a single point on the barrier.
The sword of quiet flame dug into the barrier as if melting it. It sank in to the hilt, pushed completely through the wall.
A barrier made of countless Holy Arts. An unbreakable wall whose framework was so complex that hundreds of priests would have to pour years into it to barely create it.
Something was carved upon it.
A change that began from a single point and swallowed everything.
Dimona withdrew her sword. The flames died, and the halo above her head slowly scattered.
Her red irises lost their color. They returned to a calm red, as they usually were. The same Dimona as always.
But Ashval Haltz even forgot to make a joke.
"...Good heavens."
Beneath the admiration that escaped him, the hundreds of Holy Arts covering the barrier began to shatter. Like a building whose foundation had collapsed, the Holy Arts began to burst and rained down overhead.
Pssshhh...
Snow made of Sacred Power scattered. Ashval Haltz's eyes widened.
Had he ever seen such a beautiful sight? The church headquarters. To smash with "individual" power the highest of high-level Holy Arts, designed to protect the innermost things...
"...Are you... even human...?"
Dimona did not answer. Instead, she glanced around at those who had followed her. With her back to the falling fragments of Holy Arts, she wiped away the cold sweat that had formed.
She had overexerted herself somewhat. Honestly, it was beyond overexertion. She had consumed so much Sacred Power that her hands and feet were trembling.
But this was the fastest way.
To catch up with Dwayne, who had planned for so long, she had no choice but to keep pushing herself. Dimona did not regret her choice.
She simply chose to move forward.
"...Let's go."
The sword sliding into its sheath made a clack.
"To punch that damn face in."
. . .
Dwayne walked. The defensive Holy Arts that had burst open split apart to the left and right.
One and two. Three and four.
Dozens of Holy Arts, easily surpassing single digits, burst in succession. The believers covered in green flames shouted mechanically.
"Only a few remain! Your Eminence!"
"Advance forward!"
Your Eminence.
How long had he waited to hear that sound? Dwayne's face was drenched in ecstasy.
The power he had so desperately desired was right before his eyes. It did not matter if Dimona floundered. It did not matter what happened.
He only had to kill Arpina. If he killed her, it would be as good as having everything of the church in his hands.
Along with seizing power, he would also be able to steal the "Holy Sword Ascalon." If he reached that point, he could rise higher than any apostle.
To possess the strongest Sacred Relic of the Church of Ra and, at the same time, the "power" that would rise from the Punishment Office...
That meant he could stand shoulder to shoulder with the empire's strongest through sheer martial force alone.
Perhaps he might even reach the "Continental Twelve Stars," those called Heaven Beyond Heaven.
And he still had forces prepared separately. What he had sent to the city of Filamon was only a tiny fraction. The forces now encroaching on the Holy See Headquarters numbered tens of thousands of fanatics alone, and over a thousand paladins were also prepared.
"...It's over."
He would truly swallow the church whole. The power that would make even the riffraff whining outside weep and beg would soon be in his hands.
Unlike the enormous reward of the plan he had built, the risk he had to bear was practically nonexistent. The Pope was a cripple who could not even rise, and the Day Priestesses were guarding only the Pope's side during the emergency.
Natural for the Papal Guard. There was no one inside to obstruct him. Arpina was said to be strong, but well...
Dwayne had vaguely noticed.
That Arpina no longer had her former strength. Even if she did, it would not reach her prime.
"Your Eminence, Cardinal Arpina."
The sound of dress shoes echoed through the corridor. The protective Holy Arts touching Dwayne's body shattered one after another.
They were on a completely different level of weakness from the ones he had broken so far.
Ah.
His guess had been right. His prediction had been right. To think she had placed such desperate, flailing Holy Arts before her own door.
She had been dying. Arpina. How hard it must have been to hide it for so long.
Now she no longer needed to make that effort. She could give up everything.
Hand it all over to me and rest forever, Your Eminence, Cardinal Arpina.
"I have come to escort you."
Dwayne stood before the door. Arpina was inside. A vast room befitting her renown, the place she used as her office.
As his hand touched it, several Holy Arts tangled around his hand in an instant. Protective formulas. Was it the same here?
"...A last struggle."
He swung his hand. It was somewhat excessive, but he severed them all.
Crack...
BAAAAANG!!!
Fragments of Holy Arts scattered in all directions. Sacred Power, oxidized with a faint light, scattered everywhere.
This was the end. Dwayne slowly opened the door. He smiled brightly.
"Your Eminence. For the last, I shall personally..."
Dwayne stopped in his tracks.
What is this?
This rotting smell...?
Something oozed out from the squelching open door. A river of rotten blood and flesh.
Dwayne glared into the unusually dark interior. Something was there. A being he had never seen before.
Before Arpina, who sat in a chair pinching her nose, stood a black figure.
A black-haired girl he had never seen before. A person he had never once seen within the church.
Flesh squirmed and crawled out of the rotten blood. Grotesque beings that had taken form held spears of bone.
...Black magic? Was it that kind of power?
"...Who are you?"
"Maya."
"What are you doing right now? How did you even get in here?"
"I've been here the whole time. Living here."
The black-haired girl tilted her head.
"Don't come any closer."
"......"
"Die."
Maya cracked her knuckles.
Arpina could not hold back and vomited.
"Bleeeergh! Th-the smell is too awful...!"
"A sheltered child."
"N-no one can endure this...! I said no one can...!"
"Don't leave. Stay by Maya. Maya will protect you. The boss asked Maya to."
Flesh gathered at the tilt of her hand. Maya clacked and formed a staff of bone, gripping it.
The Lord of the Rotten. The shadow spreading behind her back covered the entire room. Hundreds of eyes moved independently before fixing on Dwayne.
Maya hugged Arpina tightly.
"Maya will protect you. Arpina."
"I'm... dying from the smell right now... bleeeergh!"
Dwayne's eyebrows twitched. This was no joke. The difference in power he felt sent chills down his spine.
What is this? This insane monster.
Where on earth did she come from?
Dwayne asked before stepping into the room.
"Who... sent you?"
"Boss."
"Who is that?"
"......"
Maya tilted her head.
"Zahard."
The moment he heard those three syllables, Dwayne's reason snapped.
"This... son of a bitch..."
His polite speech collapsed, and venomous malice filled it.
"Where is the place... you don't stick your nose in...!"
. . .
Monica paced the corridor anxiously. The First Punishment Office was in chaos.
There were many prisoners, but the guards available to manage them were overwhelmingly insufficient. Meal distribution could not be done properly, and there was no one to manage the prisoners voicing their complaints.
As the watching eyes decreased, the prisoners chatted comfortably with the neighboring cells. Some glanced around slyly, watching for an opportunity.
"There are way too few guards..."
"Maybe now is..."
The prisoners alone numbered in the thousands. With only a few dozen guards remaining, they could not watch everyone.
The prisoners moved. They scraped the iron bars with objects of unknown origin. Some shouted noisily to draw attention.
"Open the door! You bastards!"
"Something's going on outside, isn't there?!"
"Open it right now! Let us out!"
Monica moved busily. She could not rest for a single moment. Of the only two remaining wardens, her role was especially heavy.
"Get away from the bars!"
"If sudden misconduct is detected, you will be punished immediately!"
"Step back! Now!"
Whooosh!!
The whip moved diligently. Only if Monica did not rest for a single moment could the system barely be maintained.
She also knew that the guards were unreliable even in normal times. But this was severe.
The panicked guards feared the prisoners and would not enter the Cellblock. Some of the frightened ones had even deserted.
"I-if even one prisoner escapes like this..."
"W-we're all going to die... look at the numbers...! We can't subdue them all...!"
These idiots!
She did not even have time to curse. Rather than blame them, Monica chose to move one more step.
She mercilessly struck down a prisoner trying to escape and carved a warning into his skin. She broke the fingers gripping the bars and threatened that the neck would be next.
As force mixed in, the situation improved for a moment. Monica leaned against the wall and caught her breath.
But how long would this situation last? Monica was anxious. Her shoulders felt as if they would collapse under the heavy responsibility.
The only remaining warden besides her was the stupid and incompetent Warden Rupes. Monica rubbed her face. It was right to leave the problem child at the main base, but...
It felt like having one more enemy behind her back...
When would the guards who had left return? Was Director Veronica handling things well?
Everything was full of questions. Monica gasped for breath. Perhaps because she had not eaten anything since morning, she was constantly thirsty.
"Monica."
At the voice calling her, Monica turned her head. Warden Rupes.
What he abruptly held out in front of her was cold water.
"Take it easy. There's no need to rush so much."
"......"
A slick smile moved before her eyes. The smile itself was similar to the leisurely Zahard's, but the feeling was completely different.
Disgusting.
Why was this man acting like this? Monica straightened up. She did not want to accept anything he gave.
Instead, she immediately snapped back.
"Warden Rupes seems to be at ease. I'm dying of exhaustion."
"I've been moving diligently too, you know?"
"I'm not so sure. I haven't seen it."
"That's because you're moving too busily. Take it easy a little. The situation has quieted down for a moment, hasn't it? Hm? Drink this too."
Rupes abruptly thrust the cold water forward again.
"Let's get along. I don't want to fight with you either. Even more so in a situation like this. If you don't want to drink it, you don't have to. Well... I'd be a little disappointed, but that's all."
"......"
Because he kept pushing, Monica's shoulders sagged. She snatched the cold water into her hand.
Gulp.
She poured it into her mouth. The truth was, her throat was so parched that she had wanted to drink it.
The feeling of her drained body returning with a single glass of cold water.
"...You're not entirely a bad person after all."
"Of course. Didn't I tell you before?"
Monica took a step forward.
But the next moment, she pitched forward.
"I've always been devoted to Monica alone."
Her vision plummeted in an instant. Only after her face slammed into the floor did Monica grasp the situation.
Her hands trembled. For some reason, her legs would not take strength.
Drugs...?
Had something been mixed into the cold water?!
The Sacred Power she desperately pulled up scattered in the air. Her Sacred Mark could not emit proper light and only flickered.
"Wh...what... are you... doing...!"
"Since that person sent the signal, it means the plan is practically in its final stages."
From behind her, where she could not see, came the sound of swallowing saliva.
"So it's fine for me to grab at least one piece of spoils. Right? Monica?"