Chapter: 158
The Fake Real Commander and the True Messiah (10)
The end is approaching.
The sky is stained crimson, and the evil god will descend into this world through his apostles. Everyone is set to fall into hell.
Such prophecies echo in everyone’s minds.
As if to prove it, the once blue sky is now drenched in blood. The Empire’s knights are rampaging through, slaughtering people left and right.
Chaos breeds more chaos, and madness begets madness.
Some people are even emerging, trying to assuage their anxiety by falsely labeling innocent victims as apostles of the evil god, killing them in the process. A revival of witch hunts from ancient times.
Yet, amid this situation, there are still those who refuse to give up hope and strive to save everyone.
Indeed, they must have been ordered directly by the Emperor to handle the people, just like the other knights. Yet, three knights stand by the side of the citizens, protecting them.
They’re busy healing the wounded and quelling disputes, referring to themselves as members of the “Enlightenment Society,” a group of mysterious men.
Unlike those, there’s a bunch in black hoods trying to calm everyone down, who clearly couldn’t wield a sword to save their lives.
They’re all strange folks, hard to comprehend.
And the one commonality they share is…
– “The one who has enlightened us is surely striving to prevent this disaster even now.”
– “Don’t worry, the merciful god and his foremost apostle will protect us from the wicked!”
– “He will surely save us!”
The faith in the Black Fangs. Everyone is deeply absorbed in that bizarre cult.
“How foolish.”
However, to the girl, all of this seems just a meaningless struggle. After all, isn’t the very notion of the Black Fangs absurd?
An enigmatic figure whose name is unknown.
The very thought that such a person could overturn the Empire and create a world where everyone is equal is laughable.
Now, those fanatics firmly believe that this “commander” will somehow intervene and save the day.
So, it’s only natural to think they’re foolish.
“Ultimately, it’s just self-justification, isn’t it?”
Nothing will change. We’ll live our lives like livestock, only to meet our fate in the midst of this unknown disaster.
To escape that fearful truth, they turn to blindly trusting that mysterious man.
“Well, I guess that would make you feel more at ease.”
Unfortunately, the girl couldn’t afford such luxuries.
Her parents wouldn’t sell her for just a few loaves of bread. She was certainly kidnapped. Someday, her parents would come to save her.
No way she’d spend her life in this mining camp. Surely, someone will come to rescue her, and she’ll get to enjoy a perfectly ordinary life.
How empty such hopes have turned out to be! She knew this better than anyone.
Without nurturing any hollow expectations, she quietly assessed her own situation.
The ropes were tightly bound.
No amount of strength could snap them.
If only she could shed that label of “apostle of the evil god.” Though, things certainly wouldn’t unravel so easily.
The colleague from the workshop who never got along with her.
That scoundrel had maliciously framed her.
People who had gone completely mad wouldn’t believe in her defense, and the odds of the Black Fangs, who had already fled to another village, conveniently returning are slim.
In other words, she’s going to burn to death here.
There won’t be a chance to confront her parents about why they made that choice—if she heard their reasons and they seemed plausible…and if they were remorseful, she could pretend to forgive them.
Making friends, falling in love, starting a family, quietly reflecting on her life and thinking it was quite satisfactory—all those possibilities would never happen. She’d just meet the typical end—dying in this slum, cursed with bad luck.
Surely, she felt this day would eventually come. So, it’s not that sad, right?
It shouldn’t be sad.
“…Save me.”
For some reason, those words slipped out of her mouth.
Tears blurred her vision, making everything hazy. Her mind seems clouded as if it couldn’t function properly.
“Please, anyone will do!”
Even if someone hears this plea, who would actually come to help?
If they tried to save a witch, wouldn’t they also get painted as an apostle of the evil god, endangering their lives?
No one could survive in this slum who couldn’t even make that calculation. No matter how loudly she shouted, all she received in response was indifference.
Yet, despite it all, the girl shouted. She had to.
So what if the end was predetermined?
If she didn’t care, why would it matter? She’d only get hurt with false hopes, anyway.
Such thoughts, they must be lies, right?
She wanted to live.
There were so many things she wanted to do while still alive.
More than anything, she just wanted to experience an ordinary life, even once. Therefore, she couldn’t just die here.
How could her life be wrapped up like this? The last 12 years filled with sadness and pain could not be all there was!
“Please… save me…”
Normally, these words wouldn’t elicit any response.
Thus, it would seem to be nothing but an empty cry.
But…
[Listen.]
Somehow, a voice reached her.
She opened her eyes once more and gazed at the unfolding scene before her.
White hair. Blue eyes.
A sword radiating a dazzling light that seemed straight out of a fairy tale. The man in the black hood proclaimed boldly.
[The leader of the Black Fangs, Ian Valderich, has come to save you all.]
Accompanying that voice, ever so slightly—the crimson sky regained its original hues.
The man who had been ready to set fire to the pyre she was bound to paused, staring vacantly at that sky.
Of course, it was still red. More parts hadn’t returned than had. The slaughter happening all around wasn’t about to stop now.
Just one declaration from me that I’d save everyone, and that they would believe he would solve all calamities proved to be nothing more than mere escapism wrapped in empty hope.
Yet, still.
—
The girl closed her eyes and prayed, fervently clasping her hands together until her voice could be heard, over and over again, no matter how strained.
“Please…
Grant us peace.
Guide us, who have lost our way.
Our savior.
Our Messiah.”
*
No, this can’t happen here.
Success was so close, after all. Just moments ago, everything was perfect. I can’t just allow everything to fall apart in an instant.
‘I have to take action. As soon as possible!’
Johan rapidly assessed the situation.
The energy that had been concentrated on the former hero was dwindling. In contrast, that blasted boy was gathering more strength by the second.
To top it off, the sky was regaining its original color.
The conclusion that those phenomena led us to was simple.
More people began to believe that this boy would save them than feared destruction. The faith that was supposed to bring about ruin only served to strengthen him.
‘Yes! Then all I need to do is rekindle their fears!’
Taking the form of Heinrich through camouflage magic, Johan quickly initiated communication, issuing orders to his subordinates.
To kill people more brutally.
To spread rumors further, sparking suspicion among everyone and leading them to turn on one another. Make sure they trembled in fear.
Yet… there was no response.
Johan gnawed his teeth, checking on his underlings. Their faces twisted in confusion. There was no way around it.
– “W-wait a minute, is that Sion on the screen? Stop! Stop right there! Do you think our garb will just work without —”
For some reason, the entire 30th Division went on strike.
– “We became knights to protect people, not to kill them! It’s our duty to save lives!”
The three foolish knights under Renya.
Those oddballs had been acting strange since they came back after the order to smash the Black Fang shelter.
A few more knights were siding with them.
– “We can’t place all the burden on the Saint! The time for us to atone has come! Now’s the time to sacrifice ourselves for the Black Saint!”
Even clerics siding with the Black Fangs?
Orders were not being followed precisely. Interference at every turn was slowly unraveling the plans.
The harbinger of disaster that was to rise using the former hero’s corpse could no longer be felt.
And most importantly…
Footsteps. The most fearful footsteps echoed in the air.
Eyes blinded by staggering light.
Eight wings and a white halo.
An entity resembling a god, or rather, one that could only be called a god, approached him.
To pronounce his death.
There’s no way he could accept such an ending. Not when his revenge wasn’t even completed.
He summoned all his strength.
A complete release of every divine relic he possessed. Completing the demonic transformation after years of research. Operating the twisted divine power to its limit. A final, desperate strike employing all measures.
However… it didn’t reach him.
His full power seemed to hold no effect on Sion at all. The strike vanished before it even reached Sion.
“Why on earth…?”
Such words burst forth from his lips.
“Why is this happening!!!”
There was no other choice.
How could he accept such an ending?
Ten years. Over a decade spent preparing. To exact vengeance, to repay humiliation, to drag that damned goddess down into filth.
And this is the outcome?
All it took was one person to ruin everything?
The rush of emptiness and despair twisted his face. Watching Johan’s breakdown, that wretched boy spoke up mockingly.
“Of course, it failed. Your plan was doomed from the start.”
When ruin was right at hand, people would indeed be terrified, but that wouldn’t be all.
While saying that, the boy gripped his sword.
“Humans can’t let go of hope until the very last moment.”
…In an instant, radiant light enveloped the world.
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