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Somewhere far from Vespians, in the unexplored depths of a forgotten dungeon where no data exists and no one knows of its existence.
“It’s been a while. How has everyone been?”
Five men and women cloaked in black robes gathered there, engaging in a secret meeting.
“I’m quite pleased to see you all gather here despite the sudden summons. As your leader, I couldn’t be happier.”
The Abyss Priests, now international fugitives due to their crime of heretical worship, were secretly convening as part of the Exorcism Rebellion.
These individuals were the core members of the rebellion—a total of five Abyss Priests, including the leader.
Well, technically, they should now be referred to as the five Abyss Priests.
“Well, it’s not quite a complete gathering, is it? There’s an empty chair glaring at us,”
Ariane pointed to the vacant seat, tilting her head slightly in questioning. She seemed puzzled by the absence of the elder who should have occupied that spot.
“Are you referring to Hugh Casval? Sadly, he recently met the abyss. It’s unfortunate.”
The leader of the rebellion delivered the news in a calm voice—informing that the low-ranking Abyss Priest, Hugh Casval, had ultimately met his death.
“Died, you say…?”
A middle-aged man, who could not even hide his rotundness under his robe, stammered back in disbelief. His speech was as awkward as a child’s.
“Oh, really? Well, he was of an age where death wouldn’t be surprising, I suppose,”
Ariane shrugged her shoulders lightly, brushing aside her violet hair. A clear smirk settled on her exposed face.
“It wasn’t old age. He fell in battle against the goddess’s order.”
“He picked a fight with the church? What guts for an incompetent fool. Is he losing his marbles?”
Ariane began openly mocking Hugh.
“Tsk.”
At the sound of her blatant laughter, one Abyss Priest clicked his tongue and shot her a glare.
Though their organization was weakly bound, it was still unbecoming to laugh and mock when a fellow member was killed.
Truly, a disgusting and contemptible behavior.
“Maybe you should be mindful of your words, Ariane.”
Thus, Abyss Priest Ord chided Ariane with an irritated voice—his tone more akin to that of a child than a youthful adult.
“Why should I? It’s not like I’m saying anything wrong, shorty.”
Ariane used a mocking grin as she looked back at Ord. Her disdain laid bare for all to see.
“That old guy, hiding behind lowly undead, had the audacity to provoke the church, knowing full well his place. There’s a line one shouldn’t cross, you know!”
Her sharp sarcasm cut through the air. Ariane considered herself qualified to throw around such jabs.
Unlike Hugh Casval, who collapsed while attempting something beyond his capabilities, she had experience annihilating an entire division of the church.
“I never liked the old man in the first place.”
In addition, their dispositions contradicted each other entirely.
Hugh’s constant bragging about cunning and intellect as the true strength only sounded like a weak excuse to Ariane.
So how could she help but despise him?
She didn’t explicitly say it, but deep down, it felt like a relief that he was gone.
“Even so—”
“Why? Do you feel some kinship because you both simply hide in the rear?”
Ariane looked down on Ord as he tried to retort once more.
“It doesn’t matter who’s hiding where—the trembling behind is the same for you and that old fool!”
Her words, laced with open derision, pushed Ord’s patience to the brink.
“…Ariane.”
Ord muttered her name, rising from his place.
The shadow of the short young man suddenly expanded, and the growls of hidden beasts began to echo.
“Did I ever say you could call my name? How cocky of you, you little brat.”
Ariane’s mockery deepened even further. An immense magical power began to ripple around her, distorting the air.
The two core members of the Exorcism Rebellion were on the brink of fierce confrontation.
“Ah, Ariane, Ord! N-no fighting, please!”
The middle-aged man, fumbling with his pudgy arms, stepped between Ariane and Ord, trying to mediate.
“That’s enough. Don’t fight in front of me.”
With his chin resting on his fist, the leader of the rebellion, who had been quietly observing, intervened in an unemotional tone.
“After all, aren’t we all persecuted fugitives? If we create friction among ourselves, only the church will be smiling.”
His tone was incredibly gentle.
However, Ord felt a chilling sensation, as if his own head might get cleaved off, and quickly sat back down.
“No, this little brat started it—”
On the other hand, Ariane pouted with a finger pointed at Ord, arguing that she’d done nothing wrong…
“Ariane.”
“…Tsk. Fine, fine.”
When the leader firmly called her name, she clicked her tongue in frustration yet withdrew her magical energy.
“I swear, you’re such a boring guy.”
Ariane raised her hands slightly in surrender, shrugging her shoulders.
Unlike how she mocked Hugh or argued with Ord, she complied surprisingly well with the leader.
Then again, it was only natural for her; she wouldn’t risk going against someone she wasn’t confident she could defeat, especially not the leader.
“Alright. You all seem to be a bit calmer now… Let’s continue our discussion.”
The leader glanced at the now-quiet Ariane, lightly laughing to ease the mood, then addressed the assembled members.
◆◆
First, the leader corrected Ariane’s misconception. Contrary to her belief that Hugh Casval was slaughtered like a dog by the Paladins and Priests, he actually had a surprising chance of victory.
His unexpectedly immense army of undead, formed from the vast corpses he had acquired, and the Corpse Giant he summoned using Adventurers and Priests as sacrifices, if used well, could have effectively wiped out the Paladins of the Vespians division.
“One of the eight demons, a Jotun, while being a demon, holds a certain resistance to divine miracles. True, he may be weaker now as an undead… but.”
If they utilized the Corpse Giant in a guerrilla tactic, it was entirely plausible to wipe out the Paladins. The leader asserted this confidently.
Though in actuality, there must have been a tactical misjudgment, seeing as the Corpse Giant was quickly killed off.
“Hmm… So, what’s the point you want to make?”
“The Corpse Giant summoned by Hugh was a Jotun resurrected as undead. In other words, despite being corrupted, it should have still retained its heart. Doesn’t that pique your interest?”
The Jotun’s heart.
The source of the unique strength and divine resistance specific to the giant race, a powerhouse filled with the chilling cold akin to the frost of the northern storms.
With the number of hero parties reaching demon territories dwindling to a rare few, the heart had become something immeasurably valuable.
Monetarily and magically.
“I want to eat it!”
“It does sound interesting… but it’s probably already in the church’s hands, right? They’ve either purified it or destroyed it long ago.”
“I suspect those old bishops have probably eaten it for a health boost.”
Unlike the middle-aged man, who transparently revealed his greed, Ord and Ariane exhibited an indifferent response.
It didn’t seem like the church would let a demon’s heart slip through their fingers, after all.
“Usually, that would be the case…but this time, it seems we must make an exception.”
The leader elaborated on the detailed circumstances.
After defeating the Corpse Giant, the Paladins had transported its remains back to the church, extracting its heart. Yet, that heart mysteriously vanished overnight.
“Seems they snuck it out and sold it. Why haven’t they changed one bit? Don’t they fear death at all?”
Ariane let out a hollow laugh, displaying open contempt for the church’s priests.
“So… you’re suggesting we locate and rob that heart?”
“I’m not commanding anything. There has been an incident, and if you’re interested, consider it a suggestion to check it out.”
In response to Ord’s question, the leader shook his head.
What he intended was not a command to fetch the Jotun’s heart, but merely to share information—that such a valuable item had been set loose in the world, and if they were interested, they should take a look.
The Jotun’s heart was undoubtedly a treasure of immeasurable worth, but the leader showed no significant interest in it.
It would be nice to have, but not something to get anxious about if it were gone.
Thus, the leader simply shared information on the heart, leaving the decision to fetch it or not entirely up to them.
Upon hearing the leader’s words, the members displayed varying reactions.
“I’m good. The Paladins would be blazing with anger and searching high and low for it. What fortune could we reap wandering into that mess? I’ll just get some grunts to check it out.”
After a brief moment of thought, Ariane let out a soft sigh, opting to abandon the heart search. It was too dangerous, she reasoned.
Perhaps not wishing to give up entirely, she mentioned sending a couple of subordinates, but her choice of words, “grunts,” clearly reflected her lack of hope.
“Hmm….”
Ord rubbed his chin in deep thought.
A definite danger against uncertain reward—he weighed which side to choose in his head.
“Paladins? No way! I’m not going!”
The chubby middle-aged man whined childishly, cleanly abandoning the pursuit of the Jotun’s heart.
At least that’s what he said outright. What lay beneath that exterior, however, was anyone’s guess.
Who could really know what thoughts linger in the mind of a half-crazed individual?
Even among the Abyss Priests, no one could comprehend the thoughts of a madman.
They were worshipers of magic and sorcerers, after all—not therapists to counsel the mentally deranged.
In any case, that day’s meeting came to an end.
The five Abyss Priests, each harboring different intentions, dispersed from the dungeon, vowing to meet again.
Hilde accepted a request for escort two days after that.
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