Chapter 241

SCRITCH, SCRITCH.

Countless quills floated in the air, writing across sheets of paper.

"..."

At last, their owner, Bishop Bae Seogyeong, sighed.

"Haa..."

At her sigh, the floating quills descended one by one to settle on the desk. As long and enormous as a banquet table, it easily accommodated them all.

'The answer isn't coming easily.'

The papers lay thick enough to form a cushion, each densely covered in writing. They described the relationship between humans and Divinities. There were accounts of human limitations, and of humans becoming Divinities and Divinities becoming human.

"..."

Bae Seogyeong stood silently, gazing at them.

'The saintess's condition has stabilized considerably.'

Hunter Seo Jio had said he had balanced her mind and body. That meant her fate would be decided when the scales tipped toward either humanity or mystery.

'... But not yet. A little longer... There is still so much the saintess hasn't learned...'

No. That wasn't true.

'... Those are all excuses.'

The saintess was the most knowledgeable scholar in the Moon Cult. She knew how hard the girl had worked and what she had achieved. She must not disregard that. Doing so would mean disregarding the saintess herself.

"... This is not a matter I have any right to deliberate over."

Ultimately, every choice belonged to the saintess.

'I must trust her judgment.'

Whether she honed her abilities once more and became the Moon as a Divinity, or pursued learning, content with her peaceful life as it was. Even if she chose some other path, it had to unfold as she wished.

'And yet, why... why am I hesitating like this?'

She didn't even know what she was hesitating over.

'Why? Over what? What do I hope to accomplish?'

Was that why she still hadn't gone to sleep, though the moon was about to set?

"..."

It was all futile in the end.

"An insignificant creature like me..."

However hard she tried, her knowledge could never equal their teacher's. She could never be wiser than the Moon, nor accomplish as much as a saint. Behaving so foolishly despite knowing that only showed how lacking she was.

And yet, she couldn't help thinking.

'... If I could become just a little more perfect.'

Then.

'Could I stay by that child's side?'

The question the saintess had asked one day, seated in her place as saintess. When she asked whether it was this frightening inside the Moon too, the bishop had merely chided her. Called her foolish. Told her she had to become more perfect.

That this was why she had to make the Moon warmer.

"... Urgh."

The hand braced against the desk trembled.

"Urrk, keh, khhk..."

She clutched the desk and sank to the floor.

'How many times must we repeat this?'

Revulsion choked her.

She had already seen three saints pass on in Korea alone. Some had become Divinities; others had remained human. Some had been publicly acknowledged, others kept hidden.

Through them, Bae Seogyeong had learned that even "providence" could be horrifying. When providence and humanity finally met, that is.

'How many times must we repeat this before the world gets better?'

Horrifying as it was, she could not even conceive of breaking this cycle. Having begun it, she could only desperately hope that somewhere, an end existed.

The bishop had been born before the Great Catastrophe. The worst she had known then had become the best they could hope for now. If only they could restore things to at least what they had been before the Great Catastrophe. If that were possible, she wanted to achieve it even at the cost of everything she had.

'If only I had the makings of a saint instead.'

She was not alone in that thought. The Moon Cult was a gathering of people who thought the same way. Let us mend the world with the vast knowledge of the universe. Make it better. Even a little sooner.

'Not them. Me... Me...'

Only then could they avoid passing this horror on to their descendants. The sacrifices of the present were for the future.

"..."

She steadied her breathing, her expression turning cold again.

'... It's all futile.'

Bae Seogyeong rose. She straightened her rumpled clothes, cleared away what she had soiled, and set her wretched appearance to rights. The bishop was the one who coaxed and comforted her brothers in discipleship. Her position demanded that she be the most perfect of humans.

'This research is all meaningless.'

Without even a suitable vessel, Bae Seogyeong could not become a saint. Nor could she become a Divinity. She could hold only so much mystery. However hard she tried, she would remain human. She could not become a star to remain beside a saint who had become the moon.

'The saintess is doing wonderfully. She has confidence in her path, and pride in it. Revealing my human attachments now would only displease her. What good would it do to leave some clumsily, forcibly fashioned star beside that lofty moon?'

If she could not offer real help, she should at least stay still. This was the Moon Cult. It affirmed all knowledge and emotions. They had a duty to acquire knowledge and wisdom of greater diversity.

'Above all, this is ultimately for my own satisfaction, not out of respect for the saintess. I cannot let my pathetic selfishness ruin things.'

Bae Seogyeong looked at the research materials strewn across the table.

"..."

All around her lay the filth of her own blood and pieces of flesh.

"... Yes, I should clear this away."

None of it was any help.

Once she finally reached that conclusion, exhaustion washed over her. She would probably have to recuperate tomorrow and would be unable to see the saintess. With a wave of her hand, the bishop gave the laboratory a light cleaning. She would sort out which materials to burn tomorrow.

'I should rest as soon as I've offered my prayers.'

In her anxiety, she had foolishly overexerted herself.

'How foolish, when fate will decide the saintess's path.'

The Moon Cult respected the freedom of its brothers in discipleship. Even relinquishing the priesthood was permitted, provided their memories were erased. One of the few rules they observed was to report their day's activities to the Moon before going to sleep.

The bishop made her way to the prayer chamber.

"..."

Like an enormous pupil, the prayer chamber seemed to look out onto the night sky. Its dark ceiling stretched beyond all reckoning, while a clear lake lay across a floor whose very existence was difficult to discern.

A pitch-black night without moon, stars, or clouds. This mysterious space had been created for communication with the Moon. With luck, they could sometimes encounter their teacher floating above the lake.

'Absent today, as expected.'

The saintess's recent poor condition would have played a part. Without her help as an intermediary, they found it difficult to catch even a glimpse of their teacher's face.

The bishop knelt in a space shaped like a terrace.

'May this paltry knowledge I gained today also find a place within the Moon...'

A long while passed before it happened.

"..."

"..."

"...?"

The bishop opened her eyes at the light seeping between her eyelids.

"... Ah."

The pure white, round Moon.

And she saw "something" else.

* * *

It was half a head.

The places where its brain, eyes, and ears should have been were missing. It was like the bottom of a shattered porcelain bottle, all that remained. An entrancing golden liquid flowed out from within. Like a slender stream, it ran down, brushing past smiling lips.

It had three pairs of hands and arms.

The uppermost pair held a sheep's skull with geometric horns above the half-head. The middle pair cradled the sacred Moon like a child. The lowest pair extended to either side, surveying the world below through the golden eyes embedded in their palms.

A tail curled around its leg.

Fine fur fluttered like a silk curtain. The red tail resembled a beast's, yet also a crafted ornament or an aurora in the sky. It seemed tangible, yet perhaps illusory. It rippled around the left of two legs that seemed to be holding a tree pose.

"..."

The radiance it wore was a mass of crimson wings.

They were drenched in blood, which dripped down, falling into the lake below. Or seeping into it. Countless wings, their severed edges ragged, as though mercilessly torn from birds. Too many to count, they shuddered in pain, or perhaps twitched and trembled as though laughing.

"..."

Its voice... Neither its number nor its time could be distinguished.

"Little beast."

Who was speaking? How many? In the past, the present, or the future?

"I who sleep in the final coffin speak."

"How pitiful." "Whose convictions are yours?" "You do not even know your own feelings." "Are you angry?" "How sad." "You have been tamed." "Were you never taught?" "Make your plea to me!" "Is what you believed to be conviction truly that?" "You are afraid." "Were you not born human?" "What are you doing?" "Enjoyment alone is enough!" "It seems you were never taught." "How can you be human if you cannot feel anger?" "It is attachment, not conviction." "You cannot even harbor malice." "Look at the world." "Rejoice!" "Be angry." "And if not even that, little beast." "What can you do?" "Tiny, tiny thing."

"... The dream has been long."

"I shall speak with your teacher a little longer."

"Now wake."

"The moon has set."

* * *

"—Bishop."

"..."

"Bishop?"

The bishop opened her eyes at her fellow disciple's call.

"..."

"Why are you in such a cold sweat?"

"... Just now, I..."

"Did you perhaps see our teacher?"

"I..."

Her breath trembled.

"..."

The world came into view.

The pitch-black prayer chamber, with nothing floating in it even now. The fellow disciple who had come to check on her when she failed to return so late into the night. The clock hanging on the terrace. She seemed to have dreamed while praying.

But had it really been a dream?

"... What did I see?"

And what had she heard?

* * *

"I understand."

"What do you understand?"

"I understand everything the Moon Cult has done."

"But that's..."

Ju-hyeon tilted his head as he looked at the portrait.

"Horrific human sacrifice, isn't it?"

"I affirm what you say."

"I thought you wouldn't be particularly fond of that sort of thing, Jio."

"I do not affirm the practice itself."

"Aha."

"I am setting aside my personal likes and dislikes to acknowledge the reasons for its existence."

There was no right or wrong in the world's fate. Did its countless branches consider human ethics and morality as they spread?

"People are diverse. Their limits vary enormously as well. Beings capable of thought constantly create variables. Everyone calls that fate, but I consider it merely the natural course of things."

Fate was nothing grand.

"If a child who loves cake grows up somewhere they cannot eat it, they are more likely to become obsessed with cake. What do you think of that, Ju-hyeon?"

"You're right."

"Everything in the world follows the same pattern."

"I understand that too."

"The Moon Cult is no different."

Jio deemed it regrettable.

"They do not even recognize sin as sin."

It was only natural. The Great Catastrophe had stripped away all preexisting ethics and morality. Now they could do little more than imitate them. Even now, people were abandoning so much to ensure their own survival and that of what they cherished.

Personal likes and dislikes, the good and evil of convictions, and every other concept in the world—there was not a single one people truly understood. They were like newborns. Though that was hardly true of the Moon Cult alone.

"During the Great Catastrophe, the Moon Cult found a way to bring these countless tragedies to an end even a little sooner. Its first saint became a Divinity and made the Moon warmer. What do you think of that, Ju-hyeon?"

"... I want to end the countless tragedies of our time as soon as possible too. But that doesn't mean I want to offer perfectly healthy people as sacrifices like the Moon Cult. That's too revolting."

Ju-hyeon gave a hollow laugh.

"Peace obtained that way has no meaning."

"No one told the Moon Cult that."

"At their age, shouldn't they have figured it out for themselves?"

"Since no one told them, they would have had to realize it themselves. Quite a few people failed to do so, and that is how the world became what it is today."

"... Yes. The Association's research labs are no different."

"Far more people than that live without recognizing sin as sin."

Even though it was the very road to ruin, people were too busy looking only a step ahead. And those who looked far ahead looked so far that they could not even see their own surroundings.

"The sinners are clear, but the origin of the sin is obscure."

Who had been the first to do wrong?

"The Great Catastrophe, which was merely a natural disaster?"

Or the Moon Cult's first saint, who had sought to save the future even at the cost of their own life?

"The saints who recognized the sin within their insular culture, but mistook even that for sacrifice? The Moon Cult's priests, steeped in the immorality hidden behind noble sacrifice, who affirm both their own sacrifice and that of others?"

"... I don't know."

"Precisely. Everyone in the Moon Cult is both a sacrificial lamb and a sinner. They sinned within all those strands of fate. People commit sins great and small throughout their lives."

"Aren't the Moon Cult's sins far too great?"

"Sin can only be eradicated by rooting out its beginnings. What do you think of that, Ju-hyeon?"

"But... this is a situation where we can't find the roots."

The priests who joined the Moon Cult each year were all different. For shelter and food. Because they did not want to be alone. For honor. Because they wanted greater wisdom. They joined the Moon Cult because they wanted to become perfect beings.

Most of them were children. Every priest of the Moon Cult had grown up there from childhood. And the children who longed for supreme wisdom and honor grew into the Moon Cult's adults. The beginning and the end. Whose fault was it?

"And so, two possible fates now remain for the Moon Cult."

"What are they?"

"Learning, or punishment."

"And you can give them either, can't you, Jio?"

"I can give them neither."

Arjio had merely opened a channel for it.

"For now... start with the head."

The waters upstream had to be stirred before those downstream would stir.

"I consider 'a priest of the order succumbing to an evil god's whispers' quite an interesting trope."

"I don't know the details, but I suppose I'll bid farewell to the Moon Cult bishop's fate..."

(To be continued)