Chapter 30
"It is a tool to prevent calamity."
The tracker Felix widened his eyes.
Bern, who had spoken in a dull voice, remained absorbed in nothing but polishing the holy relic in one corner of the Special Unit commander's office.
Felix, who had been staring blankly at Bern's back, soon scoffed.
"That child? And what do you mean, calamity? What sort of absurd nonsense is this? Are you saying the continent of Astana will turn into a sea of fire? If that's so, it's not much different from how things are now."
The stench of blood still filled the continent. The scars of war ran deep. Even if peace was declared, chaos would not easily disappear. Felix had witnessed too many horrors to bear. Just a little outside Gerinhild, it was nothing short of a living hell.
"Ha, yeah. It does sound out of nowhere. It was hard for me to accept at first, too."
Bern crossed his legs as he took a seat in his leather chair.
"Are you saying Lord Asriel is suddenly furious enough to bring down the sky?"
"That may be."
Sllrrp.
Bern savored the aroma of the wine in his glass.
Felix had remained at headquarters instead of joining the Haskinderun expedition. There were too many suspicious elements. The sudden urgent summons and the attempt to merge the Holy Knights with the Special Unit could be understood as a desperate remedy for the two factions under the Church, both destabilized by recent events.
'The girl Zima brought.'
Bern and Gordon referred to her as the 'vessel', casting unusual glances her way.
Felix had carefully observed the suspicious behaviors of these two faction leaders and of Zima.
"So, the prophecy about the coming destruction was written in the Apocalypse, and the vessel to seal this calamity is the girl Zima brought. Is that right?"
Again, Bern gave a nonchalant nod.
Felix was left speechless. The story was absurd to the extreme, and the bored manner in which Bern answered left him dumbfounded.
"Felix."
Bern called out quietly as he set down his glass. The two of them had never been particularly close. Not that their relationship was bad—just that their interests had always diverged.
Bern was a man blinded by ambition for status, while Felix was fascinated only by tracking and killing humans.
"How many people in the Empire do you think know about this?"
"Well. Before that, is there even anyone who would believe this at face value?"
Bern spread out his five fingers and held them up to Felix.
"His Majesty the Emperor, me, vice-commander Gordon, Zima, and you."
"N-no, don't joke like that."
"Hehe. Half serious. Because most of those who knew died during the war."
A chill ran down his spine. He felt as if he'd misstepped and fallen into a swamp.
Bern looked at Felix, still relaxed. A cynical smile played about his lips.
"Why so serious?"
"Why are you telling me this? I don't want to get involved in something like this."
"Don't want to get involved, huh. Huhu."
"In any case, if what you say is true, isn't that girl supposed to save the world? Instead of whispering like this in secret, shouldn't everyone be celebrating?"
"I feel the same frustration; I can't tell you more. But you're sharp, Felix. Now, listen."
Bern put down his glass and pointed at Felix with the finger he'd been tapping against his temple. His voice dropped to a chilling murmur.
"Finding the vessel. That is the true essence of the Special Unit and the reason for the inquisitor's existence."
"What? I've never received any such mission."
"And do you know why? Only Zima and Zima's hunting dogs were assigned that mission. The rest of us were just accessories."
"That's ridiculous. Was it the doing of the former Special Unit commander?"
Bern closed his eyelids slowly in reply. A silent affirmation.
Even someone as informed as he was had not known. He only found out after accessing the annals upon becoming commander. He had no idea why the assassinated former commander gave Zima that secret mission. The dead do not speak.
But he felt a conviction that bordered on certainty.
"His Majesty the Emperor was directly involved."
Felix's pupils trembled. Before he could speak, Bern continued.
"There are two things I know for certain. One, inquisitors in the Special Unit are now obsolete. Two, his Majesty does not want this secret to go public."
"??."
"Now you're starting to realize the situation."
"? What do you want me to do?"
"That's the Felix the tracker I know. For now, let's go confirm something."
The two moved together.
In the Special Unit headquarters, deeper underground than even the underground city itself.
Screams and groans leaked from behind the iron doors lined up along the walls of the long corridor. There were so many voices mixed together that you couldn't begin to count them all.
This underground torture chamber was the naked face of the Special Unit.
'So the real mission of the Special Unit was just to find a single girl? Ridiculous.'
Striding at the front, Felix ruminated.
It was hard to understand why the emperor would bring in the Special Unit even at the cost of the Church's reputation. The Special Unit had become a source of public fear, supposedly to eradicate the subversive demons responsible for the civil war. The distrust was spreading through the entire Church. If the purpose was simply misdirection, there were far simpler ways.
The people were suffering from the ravages of war. No matter how refined the political system, it couldn't make up for their wretched lives. This is when religion shines. The emperor had no reason to sabotage the Church's function.
'Unless he intends to make the Holy Church collapse.'
Screams still erupted from all directions. Felix shook his head, his stray thoughts scattering at the chilling cries that seemed to come from the dead.
The pair stopped before an iron door on one side of the corridor.
Creak.
Felix shoved the door open hard. The dank smell of mold and blood filled the room.
A woman was tied to a chair. Whether she had fainted or not, she didn't lift her head in response to their presence.
"Self-proclaimed Astana Revolutionaries 2nd general branch manager Zilla."
Muttering, Bern dragged over an empty chair, sat facing Zilla.
Zilla's whole body was covered in bruises; she'd clearly already been tortured.
Felix grabbed Zilla by the hair and yanked her head back. Her battered face was laid bare. Still, she didn't open her eyes, only letting out a faint groan between her lips.
"No matter how much you beat them, they don't talk."
"Most of those Revolutionaries bastards are tough as nails."
"Really? That this woman teamed up with the mad dog?"
"It's just my hunch for now. But my hunch is usually right."
"Hmmm."
Felix let go, and Zilla's head slumped forward again.
"All right, Bern. That's fine but there's something I just can't understand."
"Hmm, I don't expect you to."
"Stop dodging and give me a real answer. If, as you say, the Special Unit has completed its mission, then why are we still checking up on Zima and prying into his closest associates like this?"
Felix tapped Zilla's crown.
"Checking? That's pretty romantic of you, Felix. Offering the vessel directly to His Majesty—that's the only way I, no, we, can survive."
Bern's gaze lingered on the Revolutionaries symbol tattooed on Zilla's forearm. He had heard it meant "resolution" in their now-dead language. It looked almost like hieroglyphics.
"Dog seller Zima. Now we have to fight the Empire's best mercenary."
Bern caressed Zilla's blood-soaked thigh.
He looked back on his life.
It had been an unending struggle. To survive, he'd always had to trample someone's life. Each step forward forced him to face the lives crushed beneath his feet—always a torturous ordeal.
He had endured that hell.
He'd gotten into the habit of attaching a value to human life. It was a survival skill learned unconsciously.
The next target was clear.
Dog seller Zima. Kill him, secure the vessel, and catch the Emperor's eye. Commander Gordon of the holy knights was nothing but a senile old fox.
The dreams and ambitions he'd held since the bottom were no longer vague. They finally seemed to be turning into reality—so close he could almost touch them.
"Before that, it'd be wise to chop off Zima's arms and legs."
He pushed his finger into the pus-filled wound. Zilla screamed and lifted her head.
Bern twisted his lips. He'd long since become numb to screams.
* * *
The suppression force returned after nearly a month.
There was no victory celebration. As their departure had been, their return was quiet.
'Things have gotten complicated.'
Ran scratched his head. Until now, everything had gone smoothly. There had been a few ups and downs, but he'd made internal progress.
'Even if the blade has rusted, the shield remains strong. In an emergency, strike at the enemy's rotten heart.'
Iscrang's last advice came to mind. At first it only made him feel skeptical, but now the situation had changed.
He heard the whole story from Zima.
'Did Iscrang know everything when he said that?'
The rotten heart pointed to the Emperor. Ran mulled over theories all the way back based on Zima's story. The Emperor was always at the end. The root of the grand conspiracy.
'Of course, I can't be fully certain of Zima's words yet.'
Whether or not the Apocalypse was genuine, one didn't need to leave the capital long to hear doomsayers everywhere. As people's lives spiraled into ruin, the Holy Church grew ever weaker. More and more cultists were raising their heads.
Above all, Ran knew Emma. Aside from being a human-demon half-breed, she was just an ordinary child. The talk of her wielding holy power was pure fiction.
"I should get some real rest for once. I don't recover from fatigue as fast as I used to."
Zima shambled past Ran, stretching his body. Turning around, he closed one eye and grinned.
Ran remembered the awestruck looks Bern and Gordon had given Emma. It was why he couldn't just dismiss Zima's stories as nonsense.
"We'll be heading back now."
Demian bowed deeply to Zima. His face was ashen, defeated. The few remaining holy knights followed behind him.
"I need to go report to our commander myself. You two get some rest. For the time being, be ready to reconvene at headquarters at a moment's notice."
Zima waved at Ran and Peco.
He had not told Ran about Emma being the substitute vessel.
"Hmph, I know we won, but why do I feel so unsatisfied?"
Peco grumbled at Ran's side. It was understandable; at the senior's order, the faces of the disbanding Special Unit members showed a mix of relief and sadness. They looked just like mercenaries who, after a big score, had returned only to quietly mourn lost comrades.
Ran watched them from afar.
"The Special Unit isn't meant for war. These kinds of experiences must feel alien to them."
"Haaa. Brother, I really hate war."
"Me too."
"So let's go rest too."
Even if he trusted Zima, there were still too many doubtful points. More importantly, iscrang needed to be notified right away. New orders might have arrived by now.
"All right, go on, Peco."
"Huh? Aren't you coming with me?"
"Coming where?"
"Since I haven't received a house in Gerinhild yet... To your place?"
Ran shook his head immediately.
"Sorry. Find yourself an inn. I prefer to be alone."
"? O-okay."
Even when they'd all lived together, Ran hadn't been the type to fit in closely with his brothers. He always drew a clear line.
Ran turned to leave first. Peco made a sad face under his mask, shoulders hunched like a scolded child.
"Uh, hey, Ran! Actually, I have something to say?!"
"Does it have to be right now?"
"It's something I need to tell only you, brother?."
Ran secretly sighed and gently patted Peco's shoulder.
"Sorry. I don't have time. How about tomorrow evening?"
"S-sure! Let's do that. Make sure you have time. It's pretty important."
The end of the world, a girl who must become a sacrifice to stop it, the struggle surrounding her.
He had to step into the center of it. Nothing else mattered.
"I'm heading off."
Peco seemed reluctant, as if something was left unsaid.
Ran turned away first.
-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=
Peco will die, I call it. He probably wanted to say that the girl he found was not Emma, but Zima or somebody else will kill him to keep him quiet. I call it now. If I'm wrong, then I will say sorry.
【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】