Beyond the Dream (3)
Beyond the Dream (3)
The Holy See Headquarters crumbled, and dust rose thick into the air.
Dimona raised her head amid the chaos. The surroundings were loud. As if her eardrums had been damaged in an instant, every sound reached her dully.
Something had happened. Destruction and ruin. A sudden explosion.
Paladins who had barely survived got to their feet nearby.
"What in the... wh...at..."
"The light... it burst..."
The thick dust that had risen cleared in an instant. In the wind that swept through, everything was revealed clearly.
"...Hah."
The tallest building of the Holy See Headquarters. Half-destroyed, but on a part that had not yet collapsed, someone stood.
A gaze that naturally looked down. He walked slowly. An exoskeleton that had shed human form brushed against a ruined chair.
Clack.
He slowly turned. Sitting in the chair, he exhaled a sulfur-laced breath as if steadying himself.
Even from far away, Dimona smelled the foul stench.
The smell of someone who had abandoned even his humanity for the sake of what he desired.
Someone murmured. The trembling spread, and fear slowly seeped through everyone.
"A de...mon..."
"Oh God... what in the..."
"Wh-what is this..."
Dimona felt it too. She felt it on her skin.
The stench of wickedness. A being as if formed from human malice piled upon malice.
"...At last."
He murmured. The sound was loud enough for all to hear. Magical power naturally engraved into each word devoured even Sacred Power and took its place.
A contradictory existence. Magical power and Sacred Power cannot coexist. Two intersecting forces are bound to oppose each other, and yet...
What...
What had been mixed together, and how?
Dimona staggered to her feet. She wiped the blood running down her forehead.
That thing could no longer be called human. It was exactly as everyone had said.
A demon.
...In the truest sense.
"I have escaped all restraints."
The being who could no longer even be called a priest spoke. He raised his hand and examined his Sacred Mark.
The Sacred Mark engraved on the back of his hand was slowly being stained by magical power. Beneath his clenched fist, it was being engraved anew in a form completely different from the original.
An inverted Sacred Mark of Ra. Dwayne, now mingled with a demon, shrugged his shoulders. As if testing his body, he stretched out a hand to the side with a flick.
BOOM!!!!
A mere gesture sent an entire building flying. The building's frame that had obstructed the view twisted completely and shattered.
Debris swept across the battlefield. Hundreds of casualties occurred at once.
Dimona's hands trembled without her realizing it.
"Wh-what..."
It was completely different from just moments ago. Power on another dimension. A realm an individual could never possess.
What... what on earth had happened?
Where had that power suddenly come from...?
A hymn flowing from deep underground continued without pause. Unlike the sacred atmosphere, the battlefield was filled with a silence on the verge of explosion.
Dimona gripped her sword tightly. She forced her trembling hand still.
It's fine. I can do this. Even if he's changed, the source itself never changes.
The hymn. Right. That sound that keeps coming is the problem. All the changes began after that singing echoed out.
If I can just cut that off somehow, we can regain the advantage...!
"Dimona."
Dwayne, seated on the broken chair, raised his hand.
"Do not rush. I will let you live until it is 'complete.'"
His outstretched hand clenched the empty air. Dimona saw space ripple for an instant.
It moved.
Reality crossed a line and shifted violently, as if being recreated.
"What...?!"
The ground beneath Dimona moved. Stones and gravel melted away at rapid speed, and solid iron took their place.
A strange feeling, as if walking through a dream. Everything she had believed to be reality crumbled. Colors melted arbitrarily, and blackness swallowed everything.
The building frames twisted. Walls rose where she thought there was open space, and even gravity mixed, so what had been up became down in an instant.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Buildings began rising at will, connecting in complex patterns. Like a labyrinth, they linked to one another and transformed the entire battlefield, except for the building where Dwayne sat.
A domain that recreated ground in empty air. Dwayne, who had used the power, sank deep into a properly erected steel throne as if exhausted.
Ominously gleaming red eyes stared at Dimona. And then even those were finally hidden by a wall, vanishing from sight.
"I will toy with you until this is finished. The connection is not yet complete, after all."
"Dwayne!"
"I deceived even myself for this day alone. I hid my nature, kept my speech formally polite, and groveled to the utmost."
Dwayne's murmur now echoed throughout the entire area, shaped like a massive cube.
"Now that too is over. As of today, I become complete, and the Church will come to believe in a new god beneath me. Fantasy will become reality, and a new star will be born in the heaven above the heavens."
Clack.
An elite paladin who landed before Dimona removed his helmet. The bodies of the four who remained twisted, each in their own way.
Their skin peeled away as if shedding a husk. As if imitating their master, exoskeletons wrapped around their exteriors and gave birth to a new species.
"His Eminence... only His Eminence..."
"Will become the new sun..."
"I will follow him... and stand at his side..."
"I offer my sword... and burn the flame of sacrifice..."
The thick smell of sulfur filled the battlefield. Green flames covered the bodies of the fanatics who followed him.
"I."
Everyone heard the whisper. The muttered words were remarkably simple for someone who had crouched in hiding for decades.
But their impact was extraordinary.
"Today, I become the sun."
The spreading terror swallowed everyone. Beneath the black ceiling that covered even the sky, the flames of humanity flickered as if about to go out.
An overwhelming difference in power. A living hell with no way out.
The helplessness of having to stand against a being no different from a god.
"Ah... aah..."
Priests wailed. Trembling in fear, they extinguished their Sacred Flames.
"Oh God... sa..."
Paladins trembled. Swords slipped from their hands and clattered harshly against the ground.
"What is this...!"
"This wasn't just an internal schism...?"
"Wh-what kind of fight have we gotten caught up in...?"
Ashval Haltz's soldiers stepped back. Even with their backs against structures, they struggled to escape.
Everything was falling apart. Even so, the fanatics kept fighting. They broke Maya's army, then pushed past it and flaunted their strengthened power.
A moment of life or death.
Dimona drew a sharp breath. Instead of dropping her sword, she chose to hold it tight.
"Unbelievable... seriously...!"
Dimona growled. She forced her strength-drained body upright and steadied her sword.
She was afraid. It would be stranger not to be afraid. Reality had flipped before her eyes, and fantasy had become reality.
Power enough to construct a new world. He was far, far ahead of her. So distant she could not even see his back.
But...
So what?
This was not a matter of can or cannot. It was simply what had to be done.
She planted her trembling legs and stepped forward.
She had been born a paladin and resolved to die a paladin. Had she not sworn it from the day she became a Divine Judge?
"...May my body be the glory of Ra."
The whisper flowed out. Dimona raised her head.
Now.
The time to prove it is now and only now.
In a place where everyone had collapsed, the time to burn her own body with her own flame...!
"May I become kindling and illuminate the world..."
Before her eyes stood a heretic who had defiled the Sacred Mark of Ra. This was no longer a simple power struggle within the Church.
As a human.
As a paladin, she would simply fight against a demon that threatened humanity.
"With flame..."
He came to mind. The man who had thrown himself into the nightmare of Paramer came to mind.
She whispered his name. Quietly drew it in her mind.
At first, it had simply been gratitude. She was simply glad that he had survived.
But the feelings that had approached afterward were not so positive.
Why could she not have built up more strength?
Why could she not have been of help when it truly mattered?
Would she have to keep watching his back every time a situation like this arose?
Was she merely...
Was she merely supposed to be satisfied with standing behind him?
"With flame...!"
She denied herself. She drew out her Sacred Power to its very limit.
She shouted. As if whispering to herself, she planted her feet even more firmly.
No!
I did not stand here for that!
I am Divine Judge Dimona! The one who leads the Fifth Inquisition Office and saves people!
Think about what my master entrusted to me! Think about the times I cut through endless darkness!
For what...!
For what will I swing my sword!
"With flame...!"
She trembled. The trembling that began in her chest swallowed Dimona. She glared toward the place beyond the structures where the great evil, now invisible, stood.
With the Sacred Power she had drawn up, her body was wreathed in flame. Her exhaled breath was hot. A heated moment flowed through her.
It was not enough. Everything was insufficient, and her body trembled as if about to collapse.
But she had no intention of giving up. She was the only one.
In this place where there was nothing, she was the only one who could lead people.
"With flame... I shall return...!"
Longing for Zahard.
Loathing for herself.
The two mixed and broke something inside Dimona. They became the hope to trample despair and rise.
Sacred Power reacted strongly to human hope. Her heated Sacred Mark writhed, trying to break free of human limits.
What is faith?
She had been born with the fate of a genius. If she lacked anything, it was that she was not a vessel for an Apostle.
But she surpassed even that. To make up for her insufficient Sacred Power, her Sacred Mark struggled desperately. Even though her unbreakable resolve had reached its limit, her spirit's will to rise mutated her body.
Something possible only because she was a genius.
Something possible only because she did not give up.
Her innate talent blossomed. The cocoon that had long been curled shut cracked.
The Divine Judge who had hoped to become a symbol herself spoke. In a clear yet unwavering voice, she whispered.
"With flame...!"
As the flame of hope advanced, all eyes turned to her. Those watching stared blankly at her back.
Dimona took one step forward.
A priest wrung out his voice.
"With flame..."
Dimona took one step forward.
A paladin picked up his sword.
"With flame..."
Dimona took one step forward.
Those who did not believe in god gritted their teeth at the sight of that noble stride. Clumsily, they murmured along with the prayers being spoken.
"With flame..."
Faith mingled. One alone might be small, but faiths that became a great flame when gathered came together.
Forward. Further forward.
The small murmured words blended into one. Looking toward the same place, walking toward the same place...
As if entranced, they followed one person's back.
'The one who leads.'
And...
'The ones who follow.'
"Oh my God..."
Arpina's eyes flew wide open. Her hands trembling, she murmured without realizing it.
"The Voice of the Church...!"
Resolve and faith were supporting her back. As the followers advanced together, the 'Voice of the Church' was regaining the strength to rise once more.
Drawing upon the faith of others to break free of one's own limits of ability.
An authority that only a cardinal called the Voice of the Church could exercise!
But how could she do that? It was something that required years of learning...?! To accomplish it without being taught...
"What kind of person... is she...?"
Arpina watched her back. An insufficient vessel. Not being an Apostle, there was a limit to the vessel that could naturally hold Sacred Power.
But now it was different. The contents of the limited vessel were being filled with those of others. Small voices gathered, completing a vessel that would not run dry.
Sacred Power gathered. Sacred Power drained from the paladins' bodies. Prayers flowing through the priests' voices wrapped around Dimona's body.
One is small.
But many are different.
Like faith itself, like a god whom someone serves... Sacred Power flowed into her body.
The Divine Judge advanced. She faced the four demon followers head-on.
A faint halo engraved itself above her head. The corners of her eyes blazed, and the ends of her hair were dyed red.
Partial Deification.
Her depleted Sacred Power was refilled through the Voice of the Church. Through the influence of the 'followers,' she gained Sacred Power that, though only for an instant, was infinite and unbroken.
She murmured. Swallowing her breath, she recalled what she had to say, then lowered her sword.
Her locked voice whispered. The sound was small, yet loud enough for all to hear.
"Ra shall watch over me."
Maya stood at her side. Raising a spear of bone, she commanded her legion.
The First Divine Judge raised his sword. Revealing his insufficient strength, he threw himself toward death.
The archbishop let out a sigh. He spread Holy Arts across his hands with all his might.
"...Futile."
The corrupted elite paladin's mouth opened. Through his mouth, Dwayne's voice flowed out.
"A futile struggle. Dimona."
"Don't talk shit."
Dimona raised her hand.
"I know. I know how the things I thought were impossible get resolved. That person came, and I changed. Instead of settling for reality, I started dreaming."
She flicked out a single finger.
"Nothing in this world is impossible. The story changes depending on how much you stake your life. Dwayne. Your story ends there."
"That, of all things, is nonsense."
"We'll see which side is 'nonsense.' I have only one thing to say."
Dimona snorted.
"Go fuck yourself, you filthy demon. Get ready to burn, you dirty piece of firewood not even worth using as kindling!"