Hieronymus and the two men went out with the corpse.
Judging by Hieronymus’s expression as he left, it might have been a mistake to show him how I take away warmth.
This is better than being discovered in a form of being exposed later.
But I didn’t expect it to change so suddenly like that. Last time, there seemed to be a faint connection, but this time there wasn’t anything like that.
I didn’t see myself through the other’s eyes.
Then I wonder what I am.
Of course, there’s no need to worry about such things. Before worrying about what I am, I need to get more warmth.
This might be the only chance to come out into the world like this.
If I go back to the time when I was just swaying at the bottom like a sea, then I might never be able to come out with a body like this again.
To begin with, this body isn’t me.
It must be because this body exists that Joanna could succeed too. Until now, even when I pushed in just a tiny bit – the minimum I could do – it exploded.
By the way, Joanna is looking at me with a strange gaze. What is it? Has she become afraid of me because of what just happened?
For something like that, she’s still looking at me like a person of faith.
Rather, it seems to have gotten stronger?
I guess it’s because I transformed a person into a monster.
To someone like Joanna, doesn’t it look like a sufficiently amazing power?
Moreover, since she herself changed like that too.
I got up from my seat and looked around. There’s a lot of furniture with extremely luxurious decorations, but there’s no unity.
That’s probably why it can hide the strange device above. The gloomy energy enveloping the entire room.
It seems to be a similar kind to what was smeared on the arrow I was hit with at the altar or on the swords the men were holding earlier.
Meanwhile, Joanna goes out and takes out cleaning tools from a corner, perhaps to clean up the blood that fell when the boy’s neck was cut earlier.
It’s amazing that I can see both simultaneously. If possible, it would be reassuring if I could see the people next to Hieronymus like this too.
Or Hieronymus himself.
But considering how wary he is of me, it would be difficult to make Hieronymus like Joanna.
I’ll watch for an opportunity.
Main goal: Increase harvesters. Since the production plan has been set for this, I just need to set the schedule and quantity.
Next, I need to think about how to get more warmth.
Looking at Joanna, I can see a kind of confidence unique to people with power, but in other words, that’s all there is.
The light has been dyed dark purple, and her skin has turned blue, so a bit more… like this. It seems like there should be some kind of impulse, but there isn’t.
Rather, the warrior of faith boy who was very slightly connected – his name was Cheki.
He changed similarly to me. When he lost his warmth, he felt a coldness that seeped in deeper than bones, like me. And he instinctively realized that the light in front of him was warmth and attacked.
Then the girl named Patricia in front of him was struck by the strange arrow Cheki made and perished.
Thinking about the chain of connections, shouldn’t I have taken the warmth after it flowed from Patricia to Cheki?
But the warmth came directly to me.
Or does only the result occur after all calculations are finished?
What is warmth in the first place?
The light seems like a soul.
Or a container holding the soul.
The warmth is here. The light falls to me from the sky. At first, in the period when I couldn’t even make it explode, I had to just watch it fall like that.
Then a time came when light didn’t fall well, and only after an immeasurably long time for me passed could I obtain warmth again.
So, I just ate warmth. The light shrank murkily but remained.
Then where did the light that fell to me so far go? When I licked the light, I got memories along with warmth.
I licked it now too.
But the light didn’t disappear.
Or maybe the light that fell to me was in the process of disappearing. I judged this warmth to be very bitter because they were all in a state of having taken their own lives or equivalent to that.
And indeed, light from those who lived happily and died sudden deaths had much more warmth.
So warmth must be joy, happiness, expectations for the future, and such, as I thought at first.
In other words, I can only obtain warmth by killing people in good condition as people dyed in my color.
I need warmth.
Then I should do it.
Anything.
Fortunately, Hieronymus hates the current ruling class. Of course, although he expressed it as all kings and ministers, there are probably only a few he actually holds grudges against. At most, it would be someone from one or two countries.
But he cultivated this pseudo-religion with hatred.
Then he has no right to stop that hatred. Because the moment he denies it, someone else will kill him, take the cause, and continue this pseudo-religion called the Future Hope Church.
This is also the reason why any dictator inevitably becomes corrupt. Even if the dictator has pure ideals, those who follow him are not like that.
Especially those with military power need to be well taken care of. If not, the first dictator dies and a second dictator appears.
Hmm. Indeed.
If I just give power, I can maintain the factory. This is a farm designed by someone for people to hate others.
Then I need to increase harvesters.
Looking at Joanna, her physical abilities have increased considerably. She grabbed the opponent, regenerated wounds, and coldly aimed for the light.
It’s a power with good performance.
I returned to the room and looked at Joanna, who was cleaning the blue blood stained on the floor and walls with cleaning tools.
She has the form of a beautiful woman, but she’s originally a woman over 50 years old. She was certainly pure and beautiful when young, but was broken by her husband’s violence after marriage, and her heart completely shattered when she miscarried a child.
So she has no hesitation when doing dirty work.
How will this person change?
I quietly watched Joanna Smith, who was happily touching her waist several times while wiping the floor with a rag.
* * *
Hieronymus. Real name Yasle.
The leader of this Future Church took the corpse to his laboratory.
His subordinates placed it on the operating table. Then they greeted Yasle and left the laboratory.
After thoroughly confirming that those two had completely left, Yasle turned his gaze to the corpse.
It has mutated into a form that no one would believe was once human.
The leftovers after the meal of something wearing Rebecca Rolfe’s skin, which expressed that it took away warmth.
Wearing thick gloves to prepare for any danger, he took a knife and stabbed it into the corpse.
A huge horn grown from the left side of the boy’s face that didn’t seem bruised.
But it was closer to a lump of meat rather than a shell. What he considers important is the skull. Flesh swelling often happens, but truly powerful magic or curses twist even the bone shape.
And when he scraped away the flesh, there were only a few bone fragments left where the skull should have been.
He discovered that this was the result of an extremely powerful force.
It also proved that something wearing Rebecca Rolfe’s skin was more powerful than expected.
At the point where he was about to continue his thoughts from there, the door suddenly burst open.
Yasle looked in that direction.
A person half Yasle’s height was standing at the door.
Further inside than the three circles at the altar. One of the four people who were in front of the stairs going up the stepped pyramid.
The characteristic is that they’re holding a staff larger than themselves with human skulls and spines attached.
That person entered and threw back the cloth they were wearing. Silver hair poured out and a girl’s face popped out. Looking at the shape alone, she could be called a beautiful girl, but she approached Yasle with an extremely wicked smile all over her face.
“Oh ho! Is this the creature made by that monster! Yes, it’s grotesquely twisted just as I heard from those outside.”
“Hyunkeshuni. Don’t come in here carelessly.”
Yasle called her that. Then the girl looked at Yasle with a fresh expression.
“Hey, shouldn’t we look at this together? We need to figure out what it is that readily entered the body we prepared for the god. Hm? Don’t you think so? Yasle?”
Hyunkeshuni called Yasle’s name while giggling with an extremely clear voice.
“Hyunkeshuni.”
“Sorry, sorry, it’s Hieronymus here, right? To think that innocent leader of the Luminous Soul Theocracy of a religious country would become the worst heretic like this, life is unpredictable.”
Hyunkeshuni walked with short steps and stood in front of Yasle. Then she put her hand into the head of the monster he had dissected and rummaged around.
Then after taking her hand out of the monster’s head, she took the staff made of human bones and headed towards where the body was. The twisted body with its head cut off. Hyunkeshuni stuck the staff into the cross-section of the neck.
Squish.
After the staff was stuck into the body, the jaw of the skull attached to the staff opened and closed a few times.
Hyunkeshuni looked at it with a surprised expression, tapped the staff a few times, then placed her hand on the monster’s body. Precisely, on the part where the heart should be.
“Wow, this isn’t human. Was it really human to begin with? There’s no soul at all? Hmm. Hmm. There’s a faintly remaining energy. Is this the energy that something had?”
Purple mist flowed out from the chest, rippled for a moment, then disappeared as if it had never been there.
Soon the smile disappeared from Hyunkeshuni’s face. She brushed up her long, completely untrimmed silver hair with a serious expression.
“Did you figure something out?”
“A little. But this.”
Then suddenly she sprang up onto the operating table and rolled up her sleeves to her shoulders. Then she placed her small, pure white hand on the part where the heart should be.
A dark shadow fell over the hand that looked only like a child’s hand and grabbed the corpse’s chest. But Hyunkeshuni hurriedly pulled her hand back.
However, unable to pull back like Hyunkeshuni’s hand made of black shadow, it was caught in the exact center of the body.
Then suddenly, as if a small black hole had formed, all matter except light within a span-sized area crumpled into a single point and disappeared.
“Magic annihilation phenomenon. Ha. You really called a being from beyond the void.”
“What’s that?”
Instead of answering Yasle’s question, Hyunkeshuni jumped down from the operating table to the floor again. And she grinned hugely.
Then Hyunkeshuni opened her mouth, looking at Yasle with a bright smile.
“A monster called a void being in the Luminous Soul Theocracy. The law of despair where those in extreme despair cause a tremendous explosion, then suddenly suck in everything in that area and disappear. The illusory god Cruxshibal you created. There are many names but they all mean one thing.”
Hyunkeshuni expressed a smile all over her face that could only be described as steeped in madness, and said while raising both arms:
“The Witch of Joy, Hyunkeshuni, declares. You’ve drawn out the real thing, Yasle. The law of sin that all the dregs of heretics and cults so desired, but failed to achieve!”
With a face that could only be seen as rejoicing, stained with killing intent, hatred, joy, mockery, and countless emotions, Hyunkeshuni declared:
“You! Have drawn it out!”
And Hyunkeshuni laughs as if vomiting blood.
Of course it’s funny. Because Yasle, who was in a position to oppress such heretics and cults, became corrupted for revenge, and the god of revenge that those heretics and cults wanted appeared in this world.
Yasle grasped where the sacred phrase of the Luminous Theocratic State that was once above his neck used to be, then put his hand down again realizing there was nothing there.
He glared at Hyunkeshuni, who was once an enemy and still is now, and picked up the knife to finish the analysis he had just started.
And while listening to Hyunkeshuni’s loud laughter, he studied the byproduct left by the subject he would use.