Chapter 037
The holy knight Roger lay collapsed on the floor.
As soon as the battle had started, he had been the first to rush at Ran, only to be struck squarely in the jaw and knocked unconscious.
'Huh??'
A violent tremor in the ground roused his consciousness.
His cheek was wet. It felt like his face was submerged in a trembling surface of water.
His eyelids groggily fluttered open.
"H-huh?!"
Roger sprang up, terrified.
It was a pool of blood. Only belatedly did he see the horribly slain comrades around him. Parts of their bodies were scattered in all directions.
Kugugugung—
The entire area shook as if there were an earthquake. Suddenly, he felt a chill above his head. Roger frantically looked up. His already wide eyes grew even wider. The stained glass ceiling shattered to pieces, fragments pouring down like rain.
Hudududuk!
"Ahhh!"
He crouched low, clutching his head with both hands. After briefly fainting and coming to, he found the area turned into a literal hellscape. A severed head rolled along, stopping right in front of Roger's face as he lay on the ground. He met the vacant, focusless pupils in its eyes.
He thought again: He was truly in hell.
In the midst of the resounding chaos, Roger wailed,
"Lo-lo-Lord?! By Your grace, protect me! Save me, I beg of You!"
The trembling in the ground did not cease. Instead, it grew even fiercer. His feeble prayers seemed to only fuel the wrath further.
Kaang—! Kaang—!
'Clashing metal?'
Roger's jaw trembled as he turned toward the direction of the noise.
Mad Dog Ran and the holy knight Demian.
The two were locked in combat.
"Ah..."
Roger groaned.
It seemed like he was witnessing a scene from a myth, where an archangel and an archdemon fought at the very heart of hell.
Yet Roger found it impossible to tell—
Who was the archangel, and who the archdemon?
Kugugugung—
As the ground shook, cracks spread uncontrollably across the walls. All the sacred relics hanging in the area crashed helplessly to the floor.
Demian, who had been ferociously attacking, paused briefly and widened the distance between them.
"You're really bringing down Brinhill Church by your own hands."
It wasn't entirely false.
But for self-proclaimed archangels of Lord Asriel to commit such blasphemy in the church and then say such things—it was laughable.
Ran twisted his lips in disbelief.
"Did you give up being a holy knight so you could become a butcher instead?"
"Your shamelessness knows no bounds. I already know—the rumor is you're the mastermind behind those heretical Revolutionaries, aren't you?"
There was no need to ask how he came by such rumors.
Tracker Felix.
Now everything made sense—the Templars' deceitful tactics and Demian's knowledge of his whereabouts.
'Felix. So that old fox got seduced.'
A sly smile lingered at the corners of Ran's lips. He found it rather cute.
'Just how desperate to survive were you...'
He adjusted his stance again, lowering his upper body. There was no time for a leisurely fight. The Templars' movement meant Emma was in danger.
"Ran, I feel as if I've been reborn."
Demian, too, had a trace of a smile. It was not an exaggeration—he truly felt that way. Not long ago, he hadn't been confident he could stand on equal footing with Ran.
"Now I understand a bit. You and Zima—both of you have already experienced this. That's why you can imitate something akin to holy power."
"I don't quite understand what you mean."
"That light."
Demian pointed with his chin at Ran's sword, blazing with white radiance.
"But now it doesn't matter. What's important is that I finally have the power to set the world's order right. Come—face me, Ran. I will take your and Zima's heads and prove my worth."
Demian raised his sword hilt up to his face with both hands. The blade pointed at the ceiling, bathed in dark blue light.
"Impressive, Demian."
Ran continued to smile on only one side of his face.
"What?"
"You were not saved by Lord Asriel, but by yourself."
"What do you even know? That arrogance of yours is utterly repulsive. That's what stoked the hatred I feel for you."
"It's not hatred. It's inferiority."
"?? Ran."
"Don't mask it with grand causes, divine mandates, or whatever strange excuses. Only because you honestly admitted it could you move a step forward."
"? Shut up."
"You have no idea how disgusted I was watching your hypocrisy. And when you justified yourself by invoking Lord Asriel's name, I barely held back the urge to kill you on the spot."
"Uaaaaaah—!!"
Kugugugung!
As Demian roared, a thunderous crash shook the surroundings.
At last, a wall that had been barely holding up began to collapse.
Kaang!
Their swords collided. In the swirling dust, their radiance flared brightly.
It is people who move the world, and desire that moves people.
Ran had seen it up close.
Those who burn with desire always live enterprising, passionate lives. The standards of right and wrong for desire are vague. One person's hero is another's villain.
Ran had established his own clear standard.
Overflowing desire must not threaten the lives of others. Whether or not one venerates Lord Asriel is irrelevant.
Ran believed that the will of the benevolent god, Lord Asriel, was no different.
Kwagak!
Their swords, each charged with different light, clashed repeatedly. Sparks of light scattered explosively.
Demian's face was covered in blood. Bits of glass were embedded all over. Despite this, Ran's expression was remarkably calm compared to Demian, who was gritting his teeth.
Ran remained on the defensive, blocking Demian's fierce attacks. He was watching Demian's sword.
'When I said he was impressive, I meant it.'
Ran repeated inwardly. Demian's desire blazed before his eyes.
And here—there was a sword that devoured desire.
Kiiiing!
For a moment, Demian's pupils trembled.
Behind Ran, luminous wings of light appeared.
The holy fire, the aureole he had seen that day.
"Th-this is?!"
"For the sin of blaspheming the divine. Repent, Demian."
A golden flash wrapped around Ran's sword. The radiance engulfed Demian.
At that moment, the ceiling caved in.
* * *
"Ah, Lord...?!"
Watching the collapsing church, Ortolio fell to his knees.
The old priest wept.
The holy knight who had personally dragged him outside stared in shock.
The two of them were a fair distance from the church.
'What...? What on earth happened?'
Sweat chilled his back. Strangely, it looked like only the area around the church was shaking as though struck by an earthquake, and the building eventually crumbled.
Watching the billowing dust in the distance, the holy knight let his arms fall limp. He even forgot he had his blade pointed at Ortolio just moments ago.
"Sir Brahms!"
A boy's voice rang out behind him. Brahms flinched at the unexpectedly clear tone and turned his head.
A young boy clad in silver-white armor was running toward them.
"Alvin?"
"Sir Brahms! Is Sir Hildebrandt still inside?"
Alvin said that and cast a furtive glance toward the church.
The boy's jaw dropped.
"Th-that's—wh-what? It collapsed? The church...?!"
"??."
Silence fell. Only the old priest's cries echoed in their ears.
With a trembling voice, Alvin asked,
"Th-the Mad Dog Ran, was he by any chance an elementalist mage?"
"I didn't hear anything like that."
"S-shouldn't we get Sir Muradin right away?"
"Wait. No."
Brahms placed a hand on Alvin's shoulder. He was staring intently in a fixed direction. Alvin's gaze followed.
A road stretched straight ahead. At its end was the ruined church.
'...?'
Brahms and Alvin's eyes narrowed.
One person was walking toward them along the road.
"... Alvin."
A chill swept over Alvin's whole body. Alvin was a green apprentice holy knight—barely half a year since induction.
Even so, he quickly sensed that Brahms' mood was off.
"Don't interfere, no matter what."
"Huh? Wh-what's going on, all of a sudden?"
"Just do as I say, idiot."
The unknown figure did not appear intent to stop walking. No doubt, he could see them as well.
Still, he kept walking at a steady, unhurried pace.
Kwagang!
Suddenly Brahms drove his sword into the ground and knelt on one knee to Ortolio.
"High Priest Ortolio. I am Tom Brahms of the Gerinhild Holy Knight Order. I am the son of a minor rural lord in the Cornellie region."
"To-Tom!"
"Quiet, Alvin."
Ortolio continued to stare at the ground. His tears had dried a little while ago.
"Forgive the rudeness I just committed—no. Actually, do not forgive me."
Brahms bit his lower lip hard.
Flustered, Alvin looked from Ortolio to Brahms and back.
The word among the apprentices was to apprehend the inquisitor Mad Dog Ran inside Brinhill Church.
That was everything the rookie had been told of the operation. With the intact church now in ruins and this entire situation, nothing made sense anymore.
"Alvin. Listen carefully."
Brahms stood up, draping an arm across Alvin's shoulder.
Meanwhile, the stranger had drawn even closer.
With a dazed expression, Alvin looked back and forth between Brahms and the stranger.
"That man is Mad Dog Ran."
"Huh? Th-then?!"
"Shh. Don't make a fuss. Looks like all our companions inside have been killed."
Alvin's face went pale. Just hearing about it made him feel like he would wet himself.
"S-shouldn't we call Sir Muradin?"
"It's too late to call Sir Muradin. You think that guy would wait for us?"
"So what on earth are you planning to do?!"
"We can't just let Mad Dog Ran walk into Gerinhild unchallenged. And news that the holy knights fought each other inside the church must never be known."
To a rookie, such a weighty and secret matter seemed overwhelming.
Alvin frowned, his eyes stinging. He thought he understood what Brahms was getting at. To him, Brahms was a cheerful, good man. When alone, they even addressed each other with casual names.
Brahms always said he would retire and return to his hometown to live a peaceful life.
"Brother, don't tell me... No, right?"
"Yes. That's right."
"But you're almost up for discharge. Rethink this. There must be another way."
"Hoo... Alvin. Quit acting like a kid. We're holy knights, members of the city defense order. Keep your eyes wide open. If I die to him, take the High Priest and run, right away. You must survive no matter what."
Otherwise, the deaths of their comrades would be meaningless. Even if it meant sacrificing himself, they had to pin the crime of killing holy knights on the inquisitor Ran, to prevent him from crossing the capital's gateway.
Demian Hildebrandt was the Order's brightest prospect. Yet he had failed—bringing even ten others couldn't apprehend a single man.
Brahms glanced to the two who would testify to his death.
"Alvin. Did you say you wanted to be a righteous holy knight or something? Heh, you damn fool."
"Why say things like that now..."
"Yeah, idiot. Make sure you do. Become a righteous holy knight."
He could say no more. He had more to say, but was choked up.
Before he knew it, the distance had closed—he could make out the features on the inquisitor Mad Dog Ran's face.
-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=
It's really infuriating seeing clergy hypocrites.
【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】