Chapter 95 – Each of Their Suspicions (2)
The priests of the Divine Cult held the sacred relics in their hands. These ancient relics contained pure divine power that could no longer be found in this era, an era tainted by magic in every corner of the world.
Among the relics, the most noble, those imbued most deeply with the breath of the gods, were to be sacrificed according to the Pope’s plan. However, the remaining relics alone could become the new wind for the declining Divine Cult.
It was a sign of a new era.
Yet at this moment, they could not feel any joy. Their comrade, Hyacinth, who had stayed behind in the temple until the last moment, had not returned.
Philoxenon, the high priest of the Aigio Cult, stroked his white beard. He was one of the older generations of priests, along with Hyacinth. Though known for his cold demeanor, it was difficult to be indifferent about the life of a comrade with whom he had spent decades.
Suddenly, the world began to tremble.
This was no earthquake. It wasn’t a physical tremor caused by the collision of the earth’s crust or the aftermath of magical power.
What shook the world was the purest divine power, something no one thought they would ever feel again in this era.
The priests soon realized that the ground beneath them had turned black. It resembled the hue of Pluto’s Grand Temple, where they had been searching for the relics moments before.
It wasn’t just a resemblance. The pitch-black color, darker than shadows, was identical to the walls of the Grand Temple they had witnessed.
From beneath their feet, black rock surged, shaking the earth. It was Pluto’s Grand Temple itself.
“This is…!”
One priest gasped, a mixture of astonishment and joy in his voice.
The members of the Divine Cult no longer felt the sign of a new era.
Instead, they were witnessing the new era itself.
The glory of the magnificent Mythical Era. The ancient temple had returned to the hands of the Divine Cult.
***
Kore concealed Pluto’s Grand Temple within the shadow of the earth and headed toward the Pope’s residence. It was a near-miraculous achievement.
Inside the temple remained a vast number of relics that the priests of various cults had yet to transport. Whether or not it was right to consume these relics for the Pope’s plan was another matter, but for the Divine Cult, it was an unparalleled blessing.
The Pope was holding the most precious relic the Divine Cult had found—one of the oldest and most valuable relics of the various cults.
What he held in his hand was the relic of Elimon, a necklace made of sea pearls. The Pope, kneeling at the altar, raised the necklace with both hands to the sky, like a priest pleading to the gods.
Who exactly this plea was for, and whether it was truly for the gods, was unclear.
The relic began to slowly revert to its ancient form, traveling back through hundreds, perhaps thousands or tens of thousands of years. From dust-covered gray to pure white, to the shimmering glow of starlight over the night sea.
A sacred brilliance flashed from within the white pearl. Yet the Pope did not stop. The pearl kept returning further to its primordial state, as if history itself was being unraveled, back to the fragments of earth and dust before it had become a jewel.
Thus, what remained in the Pope’s hands were the remnants of the sea pearl, reduced to a few grains of sand, along with the primordial divine power contained within.
The Pope gathered the purity of that ancient power and breathed it into the thick darkness behind the altar. In the darkness, starlight flickered.
The cluster of divine power, which sparkled like a comet, soon spread into the darkness behind the altar. It wasn’t “swallowed” by the darkness but rather “absorbed.”
The darkness pulsed with a rhythm, as if it had a heartbeat. From within, vibrant light bloomed like a nebula, only to wither away.
“It’s still not enough…”
The Pope rose from his position and turned to look down at Kore.
“I’ve heard you’ve secured the Grand Temple. Congratulations.”
In those words of congratulations, Kore felt an inexplicable chill. A priest could not “own” a temple dedicated to the gods. To possess it was an act of blasphemy.
How could a servant of the gods covet what belonged to the gods?
From that audacious statement, Kore could infer what the Pope was thinking.
Pluto’s Grand Temple was now another focal point that bound the Divine Cult, and to properly utilize it, Kore, the priestess of Pluto, was essential.
This meant that the long-hidden Pluto Cult and its priestess, Kore, would now be officially recognized as a new center of power within the Divine Cult.
In other words, Kore would become a figure who could stand as a rival to the Pope’s authority.
As the Pope had phrased it, “Kore, who now holds the temple,” could potentially become his only competitor.
“Could it be?”
Kore finally realized why Orthes had “given” her the temple.
From now on, the trust between Kore and the Pope would no longer be the same. No matter what testimony Kore gave, the Pope would now approach her claims with preconceived notions.
The head of the Divine Cult had been split in two.
Originally, the Divine Cult was meant to be the greatest enemy of the Mage King. But the day when the cult’s will would unite had now disappeared forever.
Perhaps if Kore were to fully support the Pope’s plan right now, things could change. But Kore still could not accept the Pope’s plan.
The Divine Cult had grown stronger. With the relics of the Grand Temple and the Pope’s creation, which was one step closer to completion, they might even be able to revive the ancient golden age.
In other words, the cult’s power would grow to the point where they could challenge the Ten Towers, but the cult’s internal unity would never again be achieved.
The phrase Orthes had declared, “the enemy of the Ten Towers,” resurfaced in her mind. Orthes had restored the cult’s power so that they could become the Ten Towers’ enemy.
A dagger aimed at the heart of the Ten Towers, now wholly focused on Argyrion.
Although Orthes had advised the cult to wait until the vanished mage and the Ten Towers fought, did the Pope also share that sentiment?
How did the Pope interpret the prophecy of the vanished mage’s return? Did he believe that his unholy creation, once completed, could even defeat the vanished mage?
Or did he dismiss Orthes’ words as mere speculation?
Whether or not he knew of Kore’s inner turmoil, the Pope simply smiled.
He recalled the flickering lights on the altar.
The flame of Phoibos had gone out, leaving eleven flames on the altar. In Pluto’s Grand Temple, five relics connected to the altar had been found, and just now, he had taken one of them.
Since he had extinguished Elimon’s flame with his own hands, there should have been ten flames left.
Yet.
Only nine flames flickered on the altar.
Someone, somewhere else, had extinguished the soul of an ancient priest.
***
Halto received news that was both joyful and suspicious.
A unit dispatched by Argyrion had clashed with an elder of the Ten Towers.
─There was no choice. The suspicious distress signal was most likely a trap, so only a small volunteer unit was sent.
As a result of the clash, the dispatched unit was annihilated, and even the follow-up unit, which hurried to track them down, could not recover the bodies and had to retreat.
─The Ten Towers had always been absolute powerhouses. Halto, who had once been the vice-captain of Blasphemia, knew their strength better than anyone. The fact that the unit was wiped out, given the opponent was an elder of the Ten Towers, was already more than expected.
However, the elder had also died during the struggle.
─Does that even make sense?
Even if the technique of angelification had performed beyond expectations, the opponent was still an elder of the Ten Towers!
Yet the discovery of the elder’s corpse was a reality.
No one had witnessed the battle directly, which raised doubts about the credibility of the report. At the same time, the battle had supposedly taken place within a barrier created by the elder’s spatial alchemy, so it was only natural that the battle couldn’t have been observed.
The follow-up unit had only been able to observe the massive barrier, and by the time they arrived, the barrier had already dissolved. What remained at the scene was the elder’s corpse.
It was an unmistakable fact. There was no other interpretation than that the elder maintaining the barrier had been killed, which had caused the magic to dissipate.
To ask who killed the elder was a laughable question. The corpses of the angelified soldiers were scattered across the scene.
Moreover.
Who, in this day and age, besides Argyrion, would rebel against the Ten Towers?
It was clearly a miraculous outcome made possible by the soldiers’ desperate struggle.
Still, an unshakable sense of unease lingered. While urging the soldiers not to act rashly, Halto also sought a way to capitalize on the shocking fact of the elder’s death.
“The most effective way is to expose the truth.”
Authority begins to be questioned the moment even the slightest crack appears.
If the fall of an elder, a symbol of the absolute power of the Ten Towers, was made public, more people would turn their backs on the arrogant traitors and awaken to the cause.
Efforts to make reasonable speculations had ultimately converged into chaos.
It was the moment when the seeds of deception sown by Orthes finally began to bloom.