Rudell and his companions found themselves in none other than the underground prison of the temple.
“Is there really such a place…?”
The fact that there was an underground prison in a temple symbolizing divine mercy left Rudell feeling an indescribable irony.
Of course, considering the priests of this world treated heresy trials like a meal and all shared a fanaticism, it wasn’t that surprising.
Thus, feeling the damp air thick with moisture, Rudell and his group headed underground…
“Welcome, Saint.”
Amidst the imposing guards, the prison wardens bowed their heads to Eleor and other sect leaders.
With a slight nod, Eleor entered the underground prison, guided deeper by a guard.
Passing through a hallway filled with cells, they arrived in front of a particular room.
Exchanging glances with the other sect leaders, Eleor nodded, and approached the door with her companions.
At that moment, the holy knight guarding the door pulled the keys hanging from his neck and opened it.
With an approaching footsteps sound, Rudell and his companions moved into the room.
What they saw next was a completely unexpected figure.
“You are…”
Rudell’s group couldn’t help but be flustered as they confirmed the identity of the traitor.
There stood none other than the person Rudell had anticipated.
It was not Carvel.
“This is… a misunderstanding… I am innocent…”
A priest with blonde hair and youthful features.
It was none other than Filson.
“What the hell is going on…”
Caught in an unexpected situation, a low groaning sound escaped Rudell’s lips.
Where had Carvel disappeared to, and why was Filson captured here?
Just then…
“Thank you for your hard work, everyone.”
“…!!”
Hearing a voice from behind, Rudell turned his head, and what met his eyes was a priest with black hair and a single monocle.
It was High Priest Carvel of the Gaia Church.
“I heard you’ve rescued the saint from the claws of heretics. You’ve done a great service to the sect.”
“…It wasn’t a big deal. It’s just saving a friend.”
“Please don’t say such things; what you did is a substantial debt to the sect.”
Saying this, Carvel flashed a subtle smile at Rudell.
To an ordinary person, it might have appeared to be a benevolent smile, but to Rudell, it looked like a serpent hiding its fangs.
“By the way, how did you capture the traitor?”
“I obtained letters exchanged among the heretics. Thanks to that, the task became quite easy.”
“Letters…?”
As if to speak directly to Rudell, Carvel produced a letter from his inner robes.
Seeing this, Rudell swallowed hard.
“Isn’t it frightening that such heretics’ minions hide even in the headquarters of the sect…”
The unfortunate tone of Carvel’s voice struck Rudell.
However, in Rudell’s eyes, he appeared to be mocking him.
“Impressive…”
“Thanks to Count Weinstein and his group searching for the saint, I was able to focus on my tasks.”
“…”
What a twist of fate…
This meant that the letter Rudell had found in Carvel’s office was rendered useless as evidence.
In such a situation, carelessly claiming that Carvel was an inside man would instead make Rudell himself be labeled as a heretic.
“But we cannot relax just yet. Many heretics still remain. Do you have any suspects regarding Count Weinstein?”
“I’m sorry, but being an outsider, I don’t know well.”
“I see.”
Narrowing his eyes, Carvel moved in front of Filson.
“So, are you ready to tell the truth?”
“I am… not a traitor… please believe me…”
“It seems you’re not ready to speak the truth.”
Gazing at the struggling Filson, Carvel wore a faint smile.
Just then, a man wielding menacing tools entered the room.
“Repent! All that a heretic need is to repent.”
“I am… not a heretic…”
Filson responded to Carvel, who nodded at the man beside him.
The man then approached Filson…
“This won’t be a pleasant sight for others, so everyone should step back now.”
Carvel grinned as he said this, heading toward the door.
Rudell and his companions also made their way outside the cell…
“AAAHHHH—!!”
A painful scream echoed hollowly down the corridor.
*
A moment later.
“Something’s wrong.”
As Rudell walked down the hallway, he could only say this.
No matter how much precedent of Iandel existed, he couldn’t easily believe that Filson was a traitor.
After all, wasn’t there the letter he found in Carvel’s office?
Carvel was undoubtedly up to something.
“What’s wrong?”
At that moment, Eleor, who had been watching him, spoke with a puzzled tone.
“No, nothing at all.”
In front of the saint of the sect, admitting he suspected the High Priest Carvel might stir up another misunderstanding.
Shaking his head in response to her question, Rudell replied.
“At first, Rudell thought Carvel was the traitor, you know.”
“Hey!”
As if on cue, Leje chimed in, leaving Rudell startled at her remark.
Even so, talking about suspecting the sect’s High Priest in front of someone affiliated with the sect was out of line.
Feeling a headache coming on, Rudell shouted at Leje.
“That’s certainly a plausible argument. No one would be too trusting, after all.”
But Eleor nodded as if she understood Leje’s comment.
And then, in that moment…
“But I still find the High Priest suspicious.”
“Le, Leje?”
Her sudden statement left Rudell with a shocked expression.
Was this recklessness or bravery…?
With those thoughts, Rudell stammered out loud.
“Rudell doesn’t just suspect others for no reason. There must be something behind it. She’s sharper than she looks.”
“Sharper than I look…”
“I fully believe you. You never disappoint me. Right?”
With that, Leje winked at Rudell.
Feeling his heart rate spike and heat rush to his face, Rudell hurriedly turned away.
“If Eleor is okay with it, I’d like to continue the investigation… is that alright?”
“Very well… if Leje says so, I will believe in Rudellheit.”
After a moment of serious consideration, Eleor pondered briefly, then nodded with a short sigh.
“Thank you, Eleor.”
This surely wouldn’t be the end.
With a determined nod, Rudell walked down the hallway with Leje.
*
“That was quite risky, wasn’t it?”
In Carvel’s office, there was another figure aside from Carvel.
A mysterious man cloaked in black robes.
He was a messenger of the Church of the Eaters of Death and Carvel’s collaborator.
“Absolutely. If you hadn’t fabricated the evidence, we would have been caught red-handed.”
“So, what’s the next move?”
“We proceed as planned; in two days, everything will be over. It’s unfortunate to lose the saint, but we’ve gathered enough blood.”
The Hero Selection Tournament would begin tomorrow.
In two days of matches, a rite would be performed to find the Holy Sword’s rightful owner.
He was aiming for the moment the Holy Sword activated upon finding its master.
If all went well, he could eliminate the indifferent Pope, along with the heretics that should have been ripped apart.
The moment when all the sects would unite and praise the goddess Gaia was drawing near.
“What about those unbelievers?”
“After the Hero Selection Tournament, we will label them as heretics and execute them. Preparations have already been made.”
With that, a chilling glint flickered in Carvel’s eyes…
“The plan will proceed as scheduled; see you in two days.”
“Looking forward to that day.”
With the man’s last words, he disappeared into the shadows.
…
In the silent room,
Carvel approached the window.
Below his feet lay a pristine white city.
He firmly believed it should exist at the feet of the goddess Gaia, and a faint smile crossed his lips.
