Chapter 58
Translator: Marctempest
Editor/Proofreader: TempWane
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Chapter 58: The Dead Beneath the Moonlight (4)
Recently, a strange tension had been brewing in Astar.
Swift and radical movements had stirred up various places before reaching somewhere within the Holy Nation.
“An enemy attack!”
It had only been a short time since the undead uprising had ended.
On a dreary day, flickering lanterns illuminated a gloomy underground as the knights stormed in.
The black-robed figures, masters of the underground, could not respond to the sudden situation.
“Argh!”
“Damn it! How did the knights find this place…!”
In an instant, the entire hidden refuge turned into a battlefield.
The screams and cries of the Cult of Saints’ members echoed throughout.
The surprise attack, executed at an entirely unexpected time, proved exceptionally effective.
“So, this is where you were hiding? You little rats.”
Nell Sartilla, her pupils sharper than ever, sneered.
Her crimson hair cascaded down, her fangs bared.
Sssss—
Rising blood spells and blood techniques butchered the loathsome enemies. A barrage of daggers flew toward her, intent on taking her life as she charged without hesitation to settle past grievances.
“Lady Nell!”
In that instant, an attack aimed at her blind spot was intercepted by a trail of light.
Nell reacted immediately, cutting down the black blade with her blood-stained claws. A man fell, and she raised her gaze.
“…Good job, Lucia.”
“We’ll take care of things here. Please proceed further inside as planned, Lady Nell!”
“Understood.”
Though a bit prickly, she wasn’t a bad kid, Nell thought as she pushed off the ground.
It was to fulfill Quellière’s request—or rather, her command.
“…Then.”
After sending Nell away, Lucia surveyed the battlefield with a serene gaze.
The combined forces of the Radiant Knights and Holy Knights were advancing with unstoppable momentum.
Lucia nodded and unleashed a vast surge of divine power.
“The heretics will be purged.”
Her expression hardened as she leapt into the fray, determined to deal with as many enemies as possible.
Under the systematic strategy and formation of the knights, led by High Priestess Lucia, the heretics were utterly overwhelmed.
Of course, some among them fought valiantly.
*
Squelch—
“Argh…!”
A Holy Knight collapsed with his heart pierced.
Adein, not even bothering to wipe the sticky blood off his hands, gritted his teeth and trembled with fury.
“…How did they figure out this location?”
The Cult of Saints’ headquarters, guarded in secret for so long.
Its security and confidentiality were unparalleled, so how? Had someone betrayed them?
“Damn it…”
There was no time to dwell on the question.
As much as he resented it, it was already too late to stop the raid.
The leader was absent, several of the Seven Apostles were away, and they were unprepared to launch a counterattack.
Retreat was their only option.
As he was about to shout the command, someone else beat him to it.
“Adein!”
A man with a grim and eerie face shouted urgently.
It was Judakan, one of the Seven Apostles, his robe adorned with vine patterns.
“Take your men and retreat at once! I’ll buy you as much time as I can!”
“Judakan…!”
“Help the leader! Drag the continent into the abyss of chaos… Our cause must not be extinguished!”
His sunken eyes brimmed with madness.
Adein nodded and turned away, knowing his own gaze probably looked no different.
*
Meanwhile, Nell was exploring the depths of the underground.
“Is it here?”
She entered a nondescript room with an odd pattern drawn on its walls. There was no sign of the item she sought anywhere.
She let out a shallow sigh.
“…No, not here.”
She thought back.
Quellière had identified five possible locations for the Cult of Saints’ headquarters.
There were only five, so finding it wouldn’t take long.
“How did she know…”
She muttered to herself before shaking her head.
There was no point in such thoughts now.
Instead, Nell’s eyes gleamed.
“Impressive, anyway!”
In any case, she needed to find the item.
With a playful monologue, she rummaged through a box in the corner. She even turned it upside down, but found nothing.
“Hmm.”
Quickly, she searched for her next target.
Approaching what seemed to be a sturdy wall, she inspected and knocked on it meticulously for several minutes.
Just as she was about to move on, she discovered a hidden doorknob.
“…Oh.”
Even she was surprised, blinking in disbelief.
The shadowed corner had been so inconspicuous that she wouldn’t have found it without careful inspection.
“In heroic tales, places like this always have something important.”
With reasonable suspicion, Nell stepped closer.
Quellière had specified the item she wanted and its importance.
If she wanted it, there was no question Nell would deliver.
Taking a deep breath, Nell flung the door open.
A blade lunged toward her instantly.
“Die!”
“!”
Maintaining her vigilance, Nell swiftly struck the assailant’s wrist.
She then followed up with a blow to the face, leaving the heretic coughing blood as they slumped to the ground.
“Well, that was a shock.”
Her expression was far calmer than her words as she brushed off her hands.
“I figured someone might be lurking.”
The fact that someone was hiding here only confirmed the importance of this location.
She quickly scanned her surroundings but could barely see a thing in the darkness.
Forced to adapt, she burned her blood as fuel.
In the crimson-lit room, she discerned something at the far end—a pitch-black chamber swallowed by shadows.
The area was littered with traps, its defenses reinforced with multiple barriers.
Nell came to a sound conclusion.
“…Looks like I found it.”
*
While Nell and the knights scoured the underground, Clavia sat in her room, gnawing on her nails in frustration.
Crunch- Crack-
Her venomous eyes were glazed over in thought, so much so that she didn’t notice her skin tearing.
Blood dripped down her fingers.
“…Tsk.”
She realized it soon enough but merely clicked her tongue without much concern.
Whether it was blood or something else, it was hers and yet not hers.
Frowning deeply, she muttered a single name.
“…Quellière. That woman again.”
Her voice carried equal parts hatred and fear.
It was always her.
From the Red Calamity to the true disasters that followed—horrific, relentless ties of fate.
This time, she had effortlessly crushed the grand plan Clavia had spent so long preparing.
The undead amassed since establishing herself in the Holy Nation were lost, as was the loyal Apostle Ubarta, leaving her with devastating losses.
“Is she truly a god…”
Quellière’s deft and prescient countermeasures seemed almost divine.
An unbearable wave of chaos and fear overtook her. To hide her unease, she bit her nails even harder.
Her palms were now soaked with blood.
“…It’s fine. ‘That’ is safely hidden in a secure location…”
No matter how extraordinary Quellière was, she couldn’t possibly know.
Clavia comforted herself as she began crafting her next plan. To carve a new path forward, she first had to deal with that woman—
A knock interrupted her thoughts.
Knock, knock—
“!”
Clavia hurriedly wiped away the traces of blood.
She cleared her throat and spoke.
“Come in.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
The person who entered was someone Clavia knew well—Blefer, the captain of the Holy Knights.
He approached with a deeply apologetic expression and handed her a document.
“High Priestess, this is a directive from the Grand Temple.”
“…The Grand Temple? What’s this about? What’s the matter?”
“You’ll understand once you read it.”
His hesitant demeanor was unusual.
An uneasy sensation welled up within Clavia as she reached for the document.
Her eyes twitched as she read.
“What is this…”
Stripping away the long preamble and formalities, the message was succinct.
―Due to suspicions regarding the Great Undead Uprising, you are summoned to the Grand Temple.
“It must be a misunderstanding. There’s no way someone as devout as you, High Priestess Clavia, could be involved.”
“…”
Ignoring Blefer’s words, Clavia gripped the document tightly, her hands trembling.
The directive had been passed in a council attended by the other two High Priests and senior clerics.
There was no way to evade this.
“It seems you’ll have to go.”
“…I understand.”
Clavia forced a false smile at Blefer’s concerned expression.
The mask she had worn for so long was flawless.
But inside, she was rotting.
“Is this also that woman’s doing…”
It likely was.
But how had she acted so swiftly after the incident? When could she have made her move?
“Excuse me?”
“It’s nothing. Let’s go.”
In times like this, she had to remain composed.
Resolving herself, Clavia left the room.
*
The inner sanctum of the Holy Nation of Astar—the Grand Temple.
I stood atop the podium in its grand Great Hall. Having conferred with the High Priests, entrusted tasks to Nell and Lucia, the plan seemed to be progressing smoothly.
“A proving ground so suddenly! How long has it been since the last one?”
“Do you have any idea what’s going on?”
Enormous pillars, larger than those in any subordinate temple, silently supported the roof above.
The murmurs of anxious voices reached my ears.
“Not a day of peace these days.”
“Tell me about it.”
On both ends of the hall, rows of believers invited to observe had taken their seats.
Perhaps because of the grave nature of the matter, their orderly presence left the center area clear.
At the center stood a silver altar, upon which rested a mysterious orb.
It was a scene reminiscent of one I had seen before.
“Silence.”
The positions, however, had reversed.
At my low command, the noise in the hall rapidly subsided.
As silence fell over the ceremonial space, I turned my gaze to the “prover.”
It was High Priestess Clavia.
“…”
Her expression was devoid of emotion, as if she were a doll.
Netah and Sariel, seated, looked down at her with subtle, enigmatic gazes.
Noticing the undercurrent between them, I spoke calmly.
“In the name of the Believer, the Priest, and the Holy Spirit.”
From what I knew, the Cult of Saints’ leader was inseparable from the Dark Saints’ cult.
Piecing together past memories and current information, I had pinpointed potential locations and left the task to Nell and Lucia.
My role was to see this through.
“Let it be known that this marks the beginning of a sacred and solemn proving ritual.”
The cold tone with which I announced the ritual wasn’t based on any script.
I had simply cobbled together words that came to mind.
It seemed to have had an effect, as Clavia’s composed facade cracked.
Clear humiliation and fury flared in her expression.
“What is the meaning of this?”
Forcing the corners of her mouth into a strained smile, she spoke.
I remained unperturbed.
“Didn’t you hear? It’s a Seat of Proof.”
“…A proving ground .”
“I once stood in that position too, though I’m not the one being tested this time.”
I looked down at her with a crooked gaze, narrowing my eyes.
“It’s you, Clavia.”
“…Ha.”
Clavia scowled and countered.
“By whose authority do you conduct such a ritual? The Seat of Proof is initiated through the candidate’s request and the High Priest’s approval. This violates sacred law.”
“I have the High Priests’ approval. From ‘two’ of them.”
“…!”
“Furthermore, if two High Priests grant permission and a valid reason exists, the candidate’s consent is unnecessary.”
Her head snapped toward the two High Priests.
Neither avoided her gaze.
Clavia clenched her teeth hard enough to grind them, lowering her head.
“…Those wretches.”
Her resentment was so faint only I could hear it.
Clearly furious, her mask began to falter.
I spoke.
“There are too many people here.”
“…And?”
“There’s no time to waste. Let’s begin immediately.”
Despite my subtle urging, Clavia remained frozen in place.
My voice grew colder.
“Grab the orb.”
“…”
“Now.”
Her lips pressed tightly together, she glared at me as though she wanted to kill me.
I did not flinch, and a brief standoff ensued.
In the end, it was Clavia who looked away first.
She clenched her fists, then slowly extended her hand to grasp the orb.
“So it begins, does it…”
“Shh. Quiet.”
The murmurs of nervous believers filled the air.
The moment the “Orb of Truth” was touched by the prover, the ritual formally began.
It marked the start of a battle to discern truth from lies.
The first question should typically be chosen with care.
But I had no reason to hesitate.
“Do you believe in calamity?”
I jumped straight to the core.
The startled believers broke into murmurs, and both Targal and Blefer widened their eyes.
That was how weighty the concept of calamity was in this Holy Nation.
“Clavia.”
Clavia remained silent, frozen with the orb in her hand.
It was only natural—she likely felt cornered.
The Orb of Truth was not merely a relic but a divine artifact.
Though its functions were limited, that very limitation made it harder to escape its judgment.
“Answer.”
“…”
A simple “No” would suffice.
Even a child could say such a word.
How would her inability to utter those words be perceived by the people?
As the silence dragged on, Targal raised his voice.
“High Priestess Clavia! Why do you hesitate? Answer at once!”
Clavia’s gaze shifted briefly.
Standing next to Targal, Blefer chimed in.
“High Priestess! Please provide your answer. Only then can everyone accept your innocence.”
His tone carried an air of trust.
Thanks to her well-worn mask, Clavia had earned his confidence.
He was unaware of the Holy Knights’ mobilization for this purpose.
So, what would she do now?
I observed Clavia with curiosity.
“…Hah.”
She returned her gaze to the orb, her eyes drifting shut.
She appeared to take a deep breath, as if deliberating on her next move. Was she searching for an escape?
My expectations were proven wrong.
With her eyes flashing open, Clavia declared firmly.
“Yes. I believe in it.”
“…!”
Neither denial nor excuse—just affirmation.
The orb shone with a golden glow, signifying truth.
A tidal wave of shock swept through the hall.
The idea that a High Priestess—the pinnacle of the Holy Nation—believed in calamity was unthinkable.
Of course, I didn’t so much as blink.
“I see.”
It was only natural.
With a nod, I proceeded with further questions.
“You’re not human, are you?”
“Yes.”
“You know how to control the undead.”
“That’s right.”
“The recent Great Undead Uprising was your doing.”
“Correct. I put a lot of effort into it, though it’s a shame it didn’t work out.”
Her face no longer bore any semblance of a mask.
She seemed to have abandoned everything.
Everything she had built within the Holy Nation.
The overwhelming astonishment left everyone speechless.
Meanwhile, our dialogue continued in solemn quiet.
“You founded a secret society to help disasters.”
“Yes. The limitations are clear when acting alone.”
“The name of that secret society is the Dark Holy Society.”
“Yes. I remember struggling to come up with the name.”
Clavia clasped her cheeks as if a faint memory resurfaced.
I stared directly at her loathsome demeanor and spoke my final words.
“You are the leader of the Dark Holy Society.”
“······.”
For a moment, suffocating silence gripped the hall.
The frozen gazes of the believers darted wildly.
The faith of the citizens who had praised her all along was shattered by Clavia’s bitter lips.
“Yes. The continent’s worst criminal, who claimed tens of thousands of lives over the years, is none other than me.”
There was no trace of guilt in her cold sneer.
Now, everyone understood and accepted the situation.
In the place of shock, hatred and contempt began to rise.
“─You devilish woman!”
The cry of one believer triggered an outpouring of accusations.
“What makes you so bold to laugh!”
“Even gouging out those eyes wouldn’t be enough─”
“Burn that witch at the stake immediately!”
It was intense criticism that could easily cause trauma.
For them, the betrayal must have been enormous.
To think the leader had infiltrated the very depths of the theocracy.
Clavia, who had endured the daggers of contempt, suddenly burst into laughter.
“─Ahahaha!”
The spectacle of her holding her face and laughing madly was clearly unhinged.
Her frenzied behavior startled the citizens.
As if their reaction was amusing, the leader of the cult clutched her stomach and cackled, her entire body twisting grotesquely.
─────!
Her face melted, and her joints crumbled.
Her bones became exposed as her flesh seemed to dissolve, as if touched by lava.
“Kyaaaah!”
“What is that monster!”
The grotesque appearance and ominous aura made people recoil and scream.
On the other hand, I nodded at the expected transformation.
“······A corrupt wraith, ‘Elder Lich.'”
That was the true identity of the cult leader.
In the future, it was also called the Lord of Bones.
The Lich, having completed its mutation, let out a ghastly screech, as if twisting the throat of a beast.
【Yes······ I serve calamity!】
A deranged light flickered in the sunken eyes.
A foreboding atmosphere enveloped the hall.
【Only He is the truth! Foolishness and righteousness. Everything shall be redefined by Him!】
“······!”
【I will kill you all! Regret in hell forever for not serving Him!】
Repressed emotions erupted, seemingly beyond even her control.
Clavia, pouring out more hatred, whipped around to face me.
【Starting with you! I will not let you live after you ruined everything!】
“···So, it comes to this.”
As expected.
She seemed ready to attack at any moment, and I began gathering my mana.
The Elder Lich, the pinnacle of the undead, was a formidable foe, but its most terrifying feature was its immortality.
【I will kill you and start again from the beginning!】
Though I had prepared countermeasures, judging by the flow, it might take a little more time.
There was no issue.
If I were alone, it might be critical, but that wasn’t the case.
This was the theocracy’s home ground; there was no need to fight alone.
I prepared to stall for time with confidence.
The Lich’s hand began radiating a sinister aura.
“This kind of monster···!”
Targal, drawing his sword, and Blefer, trembling violently, were about to act in the tense moment.
The hall’s grand doors opened, and the sound of hurried footsteps echoed.
“Quellière!”
A voice filled with pride called out to me.
Turning my gaze, I saw vibrant red hair swaying energetically.
Nell, smiling, shouted.
“I brought what you asked for!”
She raised an object high with both hands.
A peculiar, crimson bowl-like item.
The crowd’s attention gathered on it, and upon confirming the object, I smiled faintly.
【······!】
In contrast, Clavia froze in shock.