Chapter 87: Chapter 87

The long story came to an end.

Arcangelo opened his eyes, which had been closed. Though the events were not so distant in the past, they felt remote, like memories from a previous life. The aftertaste still lingered.

"? I only hope that my shameful past was of some help to your decision, savior-nim."

Even in Arcangelo's eyes, Iel was noticeably different from before he heard the recollection.

The girl wore a serious expression, as though she were a different person.

"So, old man, what you want is revenge, right?"

"Yes. Revenge against the world that tormented you."

Arcangelo let out a snort before he realized it. It was a bold impression.

"Keuk, somehow it all feels pointless. To think that my testimony, having overcome endless ordeals and truly been reborn as a seeker, would sound no more than that to you."

"That's how I heard it."

"That's unfortunate."

Iel shrugged her shoulders.

Internally, it was different. When she heard Zima's name, she had to work hard to manage her expression.

Their relationship was complicated.

"In the end, that Zima person turned out to be your benefactor, didn't he?"

"That's an interesting interpretation. Why do you think so?"

"Just from hearing the story, it sounded like he deliberately showed you the Apocalypse."

"Ha ha, how generous a view, just what one would expect from the Savior. However, it's wrong. Zima was a shameless human being who did not hesitate even to plunder the church. The Apocalypse was merely something he acquired by chance and left unattended in the process. The only right interpretation is that my encounter with the Apocalypse was purely God's will—a revelation meant to awaken me as a seeker."

Arcangelo smiled bitterly.

"Zima was probably illiterate. Even if he could have read the Apocalypse, he would have thought it was just a story someone made up."

Zima's light still remained a mystery. Arcangelo never did find out its true nature.

Zima, who possessed a purer light than even renowned priests, was to Arcangelo a paradoxical existence in himself.

With the passing of time, arcangelo's heart grew more filled with denial and resentment toward him.

'It doesn't matter anymore.'

In the end, that person would also not escape punishment and would turn to a handful of ash.

Arcangelo put on a relaxed smile. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ novel_fіre.net

"I'll be going back now."

Iel stood up. The black-clad priest who had been waiting outside entered and escorted Iel out.

Arcangelo received the silent bow of the black priest with indifference.

"? Keuk. Revenge, huh."

He quietly gazed at the spot where Iel had been. A bitter smile tugged at his lips.

"It's not entirely wrong. The Lord's sense of regret, despair, loneliness?."

Arcangelo slowly rose to his feet. Once more, he knelt in front of the small lectern placed at the center of the room. The emblem of the Holy Church was engraved in the center of the stand.

"? May all things be restored through me."

He put his hands together. Tears flowed down his cheeks.

Arcangelo had a restless night. By the time he went outside, dawn was just breaking.

The moist air felt refreshing. The clear sun rising over the horizon was visible even beyond the fog.

Hakon and Hodin, striding over, offered a silent bow. Arcangelo looked at them with gentle eyes.

"Good morning. Today is finally the day."

"Yes, Your Holiness. We came early to consult with you about that matter."

Arcangelo frowned. It was unpleasant to hear negative words on such a holy day.

"The Lycan chieftain's message has yet to arrive, but would it be alright to proceed with the ritual as scheduled?"

Lycan, chieftain of the Snow Leopards.

During the subjugation of Northland's north, he bestowed the title of 'Pontiff' on Arcangelo and was first sent to the south.

Hodin's narrow eyes glinted as he bowed his head to Arcangelo.

'The Lycan chieftain will soon become Northland's high chief.'

The high chief title is given only when all the chieftains of Northland, numbering in the dozens, have formally declared submission.

There had not been a high chief since Mukesh of the Sabertooth Tigers.

"Yes, Your Holiness."

"Are you a warrior of the Lycan chieftain, or a crusader of the Lord?"

A muscle in Hodin's face twitched. With tattoos covering his whole scalp and face, it wasn't easy to notice.

Standing beside him, hakon, amused, let out a brief chuckle at Hodin's discomfort.

Arcangelo sighed as he looked at them.

"That's enough. On a day , we must not utter needless negativity. Hodin, greet the Lycan chieftain's messenger outside Quersa."

"Huh? Your Holiness, what do you mean?"

"We are stretched to our limits, and I worry your concerns or the sudden intrusion of the messenger might disrupt the ritual. From today, quersa is fully sealed. I will send the chieftain a handful of the Savior's bone ashes myself."

It was an open warning not to attend the ritual. Hodin was flustered by Arcangelo's uncharacteristically firm attitude.

Arcangelo walked past him. Hakon looked back and teased Hodin.

Villagers who were already awake put their hands together as they saw Arcangelo. He responded with a gracious nod.

"Hakon, how is the Guide's condition?"

"Ah, yes. Well, last I checked last night, he was still alive?"

"Yes. He was even snoring in his sleep."

Arcangelo came to a halt. His face began to distort.

"? Huh. Snoring in his sleep, you say."

"Kikik. Looks like he's got quite the tenacity, befitting a Guide."

Hakon smiled foolishly. Arcangelo shot him a glare, and then started walking again.

'Is it possible for an ordinary human to last a whole week like that?'

He is not a bearer of the light.

Now, arcangelo no longer blindly assumes that every visible light is holy power. However, it was clear to him that such light, whatever its domain, indicates some kind of potential that exceeds ordinary people.

'Will I have to see blood again?'

He was worried that the young Savior might be traumatized by witnessing the scene of someone being executed while still perfectly alive. That was why he had wanted to reduce the man to half-dead beforehand.

It was not out of consideration for the Savior, but simply to preemptively eliminate anything that might disrupt the ritual.

"How many attendees will there be?"

"By my estimate, about 60 Quersa believers, 20 new family members inducted as believers this time, and 10 priest brothers. It will be just over a hundred in total."

"Make sure not a single one is absent from the ritual."

"Ah, that Tascar fellow, was it?"

Arcangelo asked offhandedly.

"I heard he's of the Sabertooth Tigers chieftain's blood?"

"Hmph, he's just a tiger with no fangs now."

"Did you report to Lycan as well?"

"No. Discovering the Savior and the Guide was a bigger deal, so I reported only that first."

"You did well, hakon."

"On that note, Your Holiness."

Hakon slyly pulled back his hood. Though not as much as Hodin, his face also bore many tattoos. One pupil of one eye was ashen-grey.

"May I cut off his head and offer it to Lycan?"

The Holy Church earrings dangling from both his earlobes swung lightly.

Arcangelo looked away, swallowing dryly. He had sworn to Ran that the others' safety would be assured.

That was why he had not performed the conversion ritual on them.

"? Very well. But only after all the rituals are over and outside Quersa."

"Thank you, Your Holiness. Kiki. I'll make sure no rumors come out of it."

Tascar was subtly on Arcangelo's mind. Had he known in advance about someone like that, he might not have sworn to God.

There were quite a few believers of Sabertooth Tigers origin in Quersa, Northland.

"Has Tascar shown any other suspicious movements?"

"No, don't worry. I've kept a keen eye on that one. All he's done is sleep, really?"

"? Perhaps they were very sleep-deprived people."

Arcangelo walked a while longer. The light of dawn that had filled the sky now faded away.

"May Quersa be blessed again today, amen."

"Good morning, egil. Amen."

As Arcangelo passed, he exchanged greetings with people. He even showed concern for those who looked ill.

In a secluded spot away from the villagers' eyes, terrence watched this scene unfold.

"No different from an imperial lord."

He moved secretly, keeping out of the black priests' sight and together with Tascar.

He was able to grasp the situation in Northland to some extent.

'The Pontiff is little more than a forerunner dispatched ahead of Lycan to make the southern conquest easier before Lycan marches down.'

The more martial and warlike tribes are concentrated in the north. In contrast, the south has more nomadic tribes.

'Winning over the hearts of the people is more important in war than sheer force.'

Terrence had learned much from his experience in the Empire's civil war.

No matter how different their gods, in the end, places where people live are much the same. Northland's civil war was little different from the Empire's.

The model hero that appears in troubled times was the same as well.

'Lycan is a Northman who knows how to use religion as a strategic tool.'

Terrence's gaze became piercingly sharp. As the leader of the safe zone, he felt the weight of responsibility. In a foreign land, he had to lead everyone.

"Oh oh, brother Terrence."

Terrence flinched in surprise. The Pontiff was suddenly beside him.

He forced out an unwelcome greeting.

"? Your Holiness, pontiff."

"Haha, how are things? Is there anything you need, or any way I can help?"

"Yes. Thanks to you, everyone is adjusting well."

"That's good to hear. The Guide asked me repeatedly to make sure everyone is welcomed as members of Quersa's family."

Terrence found Arcangelo's insincere smile repulsive.

In the end, he was no different from the corrupt priests of the Empire. No, he was even more cunning and devious.

It wasn't enough for him to use God as his front for every kind of wickedness; he even twisted doctrine at his whim to confuse the people.

A ruler falsely claiming to speak for God.

'The reason I fought in the civil war was because I hated people like him.'

With the corners of his lips raised, the Pontiff greeted him. Terrence watched the Pontiff's back as he walked away, sighing with worry.

He gazed indifferently around him. The fog was thick—too thick.

Through Rev, he spoke to him.

That this Quersa in Northland would become the new home for the safe zone's people.

He let out a bitter chuckle without realizing it.

Demons shudder at the very mention of Quersa.

The sun was setting low in the sky. The mist soaked in the twilight was thicker than ever.

More than a hundred people surrounded the cross-shaped altar shrouded in the fog.

The Northmen believers each offered their own prayers before the main ritual began. Their low muttering echoed eerily across the whole lakeshore.

"Let this land be filled with peace and safety."

"We pray for eternal repose."

"Lead us into a new world."

"Comfort our weary souls, heal our wounded bodies."

"Mother Asriel, amen."

Iel stood at the back of the gathered crowd. She faced the spectacle before her with a calm expression.

At the very front, beyond her, was the altar where Ran was bound.

A low voice came from her side—Arcangelo. Iel turned to look at him.

Arcangelo's eyes were filled with melancholy.

"Stand at the origin of creation."

Iel slowly began to walk. The hem of her sleeves and robe dragged along the ground. The silk white robe she had changed into was excessively large for her frame.

The Northmen parted to each side. They began to sing a hymn together in their own tongue.

"Hear our prayer—the Holy Maiden, savior, is come—"

"Grant light to the glorious path of your covenant people—"

"We worship the Holy Maiden who alone carries out the work of salvation—"

"Praise the Holy Maiden who sheds her consecrated blood—"

Iel wanted to run away. She did not know the meaning of the words, but the voices ringing in her ears made her feel sick. Instinctive revulsion rose up, almost to the point of retching.

She repeated that name silently to herself. The safe zone people were gathered together on one side of the crowd. Spotting familiar faces gave her some comfort.

Her eyes met Tascar's.

He quietly pulled his chin inward, keeping his gaze on Iel.

Arcangelo, limping after, whispered so only she could hear.

"Thanks to you, savior, this world will not end in misfortune. You will be honored forever. So do not be afraid."

"Did Asriel really say that the Savior's sacrifice would bring the day of judgment?"

"Lies. There's no way Asriel would want such a sacrifice."

Arcangelo answered in an emotionless voice.

"Watch at the Lord's side. See the world that the seeker, saint Arcangelo, will build."

Two black priests emerged from the darkness to stand beside Iel.

Arcangelo leaned close and whispered in Iel's ear.

Iel shut her eyes tightly. She knelt as ordered. She thought she could hear Arcangelo's bitter laughter.

He stretched his arms to the overcast sky.

"The people of the Empire believed they were the chosen, deluded that they would surely be saved! Thus, they sought only the pleasures and prosperity of this world, and in the end, their bodies and souls became corrupt! Even the Lord, who promised justice, mercy, and unconditional love, made it known to us that such sin shall not go unpunished—!"

"Your faithful servant has at last settled in the promised land, so please, make of us a holy nation of priests, and permit us to rebuild your city."

Arcangelo knelt and pressed his cheek to Iel's.

Iel barely swallowed her tears. His breath was nauseating. The Pontiff muttered quietly in the imperial tongue right beside her.

"? Show us the fulfillment of your great design."

Hakon shouted out from nearby.

"Raise the holy fire!"

Flames burst forth all at once from the many braziers arranged around the cross-shaped altar.

A yellowish light instantly illuminated the entire area.

Iel trembled. Her suppressed tears erupted.

She saw Ran, bound to the cross.

Ran slowly opened one eye. In his iris, golden light shimmered.