Chapter 120 - Burnt Offering (2)

“Well, now I've seen everything.”

At Elisha's derisive snort, Morrigan went rigid where she stood.

“You're walking his dog for him now?”

“... It just worked out that way.”

At the very least, Morrigan clearly hadn't intended this encounter. Elisha had obviously come looking for her, while Morrigan was visibly tense, as though this were the last thing she had expected.

Their contrasting demeanors were enough to make Reaver, wearing a dog collar, look back and forth between them, wondering what was going on.

... Though the fact that a Top-Tier Magical Beast had grown accustomed to going on walks in the guise of an ordinary dog was a glaring anomaly in itself.

“Well, you belong to that man now, not me, so you're free to do whatever you like.”

Yawning, Elisha swept her languid gaze over Morrigan from head to toe.

“Just don't forget what you really are. Understand?”

“...”

“You haven't forgotten what you were born for, have you?”

Morrigan briefly clenched her teeth at the chill running down her spine before finally forcing out a reply.

“... What brings you here, Athena? If it's about your orders—”

“I'm sure you're handling those just fine. I know you. And it's Elisha here. Someone might hear.”

Watching her joke like that gave Morrigan a headache. She would never have approached in the first place if anyone had been nearby.

“Anyway, we're going to have invited guests coming from outside the island soon. There's something I need you to do then.”

“Guests from outside?”

“Yeah.”

Elisha scratched her head vigorously and scowled.

“... I made a deal with a certain obnoxious bastard, so I have to accommodate his side a little. Normally, this person should never be allowed to meet the Omnipotent One.”

The problem was that she had already agreed to turn a blind eye to such actions during her recent encounter with Varga.

One of the highest beings among demons. The damned bastard gave her a headache just looking at him.

“What do you mean—”

“It's nothing complicated.”

She sighed.

“You know the man you're serving now? I mean, he—”

“...?”

“—just keep a close eye on him so he doesn't go around seducing people for no reason.”

“...??”

“... Otherwise, we might end up with yet another bizarre problem.”

“...???”

Morrigan had no idea what she was talking about, but she could just about grasp the gist.

Having served Elisha before, she had developed a knack for making sense of utter nonsense.

“So, a woman will be coming to the island soon, and you're telling me to keep Mr. Aiden from unwittingly turning on his ladies' man charm?”

“Exactly!”

... Had Aiden heard that request himself, he would have reeled in disbelief and demanded to know what the hell they were talking about.

▣

Every high-ranking priest in the Holy Kingdom possessed such uncompromising stubbornness and exacting standards that grass would scarcely dare grow where they sat.

And that fastidiousness was unmistakable in their appearance. Immaculately pressed vestments without a single crease, neatly groomed beards, stern expressions. And anachronistic parchment and quills.

Xeros, a priest attending the burnt offering rite at the Grand Temple, was rigid enough to be the very stereotype of such a high-ranking cleric.

“Incorrect number of steps. Five points deducted.”

“You poured the anointing oil in the wrong order. Fifteen points deducted.”

“Your offering is of insufficient quality. Thirty points deducted.”

As those pronouncements came one after another, the royal performing the rite turned to him in bewilderment.

“What? What on earth do you—”

“You have made an unnecessary movement during the rite. Fifty points deducted.”

“...”

“You have failed. You may leave.”

The evaluations came in a rapid barrage, delivered in a polite yet icy voice. The royal, who had stepped onto the altar platform barely thirty seconds earlier, went blank.

What was this about failing already? All they had done was set down their offering...

“W-wait. My family devoted all its resources to obtaining this offering for three whole years. And you're dismissing it for such trivial reasons—!”

While still speaking, the royal was hurled off the altar platform with tremendous force.

They flew as though an elite shot-putter had grabbed their entire body and thrown it, vanishing in a rush of air without even time for a parting scream...

“Hmph.”

Xeros's quiet snort fell among the stunned onlookers.

By all appearances, he was the one who had done it using divinity.

“Next.”

... Of course, his next remark suggested it wasn't worth so much as a second thought.

“...”

Everyone watching probably had much the same thought.

Ah. This man really didn't have a shred of mercy.

Already, Xeros had failed dozens of royals this way almost as soon as they began.

And that was precisely why faces filled with disbelief all around when Xeros announced his score for Alester's subsequent burnt offering.

“There were minor flaws... but your total is ninety-five points. The god of purification is pleased as well. Well done.”

Xeros spoke matter-of-factly as he scribbled various observations onto his parchment with his quill.

Indeed, warm waves of colorless divinity were spilling from the altar that had accepted the Thousand-Year Bird's Feather Alester burned.

Good heavens. Ninety points.

Considering that no royal before him had managed a total above ten, it was an overwhelmingly high score.

“... Well, this is my first burnt offering rite. Is that a sign that the god of purification is pleased?”

“Gods cannot communicate directly with humans. Instead, they imbue objects with their will to convey their intentions. The mere fact that divinity emerged from the altar means that she is pleased.”

And surely, that was the greatest response humankind could receive from a god.

There were accounts of people who had seen the god's form when they first received divinity through The First Vow, but those appeared only in ancient texts and myths. They were far too outlandish to consider genuinely possible.

It was safe to assume that the reaction Alester had elicited was probably the best one could achieve. Xeros hadn't awarded him such an overwhelming score for nothing.

'Her Highness Mylène, eighty points. His Highness Julius, eighty-five...'

The other frontrunners alongside Alester had also received scores in a similar range.

The Mandragora Mylène had brought and the Fire-Eating Bird's Heart Julius had supplied were undoubtedly precious objects, even if they didn't quite match Alester's offering.

While the other royals could barely scrape a pass, these three stood head and shoulders above the rest.

As Xeros recorded every last detail on his parchment, the murmurs of the royals around him began to die down.

He looked up to see why, and the reason required little thought.

... The man who was the talk of the town was making his way straight up onto the altar platform.

Xeros's eyes immediately narrowed.

'... So this is him.'

He looked Aiden up and down with an openly unfriendly gaze.

As befitted an elderly, unyielding high priest who revered tradition and propriety, Xeros loved the Holy Kingdom's culture more than anyone.

And in that regard...

'... What was Her Holiness thinking, bringing in a man like this?'

The rumor that an Imperial named Aiden Kellermain was enjoying the Pontiff's protection in the succession ceremony had already spread far and wide.

Most of the high-ranking priests had long since petitioned the Pontiff in near-apoplectic, frothing outrage, but she had stubbornly exercised her authority, as always.

... In other words, she had treated their complaints as bullshit without even bothering to snort at them.

'Let's see him try his best.'

Xeros ground his teeth and fixed Aiden with a venomous glare.

He deeply resented the very fact that an outsider was participating in the succession ceremony. If he spotted even the slightest flaw, he would deliver a judgment so harsh it would rattle the man's bones.

With those thoughts in mind, his first impression of Aiden was, quite simply...

“...?”

No.

What was this man playing at?

His hands were empty. It was basic procedure to enter while respectfully supporting the object to be burned as an offering in both hands.

He wasn't even wearing the Holy Kingdom's traditional vestments. The angle of his head and his movements suggested only fatigue, without the slightest respect for the rite—

'... Th-this little shit...!'

The vulgarity slipped unbidden into Xeros's mouth as he picked up his quill, so furious that his vision seemed to swim.

Not even the royals he had mercilessly failed had behaved with such utter disregard. Yet the man who deserved the strictest scrutiny had the gall to...!

“Y-you! What is the meaning of this outrage—”

Xeros's jaw dropped before he could finish.

Utterly indifferent to his protest, Aiden strode straight along the path across the altar platform.

Of course, this too was supposed to be a solemn part of the ceremony governed by dozens of rules.

“Y-you... you blasphemer...!”

He was practically struggling to breathe now.

A thick vein bulged on Xeros's forehead. He had been gentle enough to fling the previous candidate off the platform with divinity, but he was beginning to think this man deserved some pain, even if that meant risking burning him.

... Yes. Those thoughts had certainly crossed his mind.

But wasn't what happened next taking things far too far?

“...?!?!”

Xeros sprang to his feet, his mouth hanging open.

And he was hardly the only one.

Everyone who saw what Aiden did with his divinity upon reaching the altar reacted much the same way.

Aiden calmly climbed onto the altar himself.

... Then he unleashed his divinity and began burning his offering.

His own body.

“A-aaaaaah—!”

“That c-crazy bastard! What the hell?!”

Naturally, chaos erupted around him.

It was only to be expected when someone suddenly attempted to burn himself alive without warning.

No.

No...!

“M-medics! Call the medics!”

Xeros screamed urgently.

He might have been furious enough to feel his blood boil, but he wasn't so deranged as to stand by and watch this insanity unfold.

Whatever else happened, they had to save the man first...!

“...?”

But before that thought could go any further, Xeros froze, suddenly noticing something strange.

First of all, Aiden Kellermain, the man committing this act, was simply standing bolt upright and staring at the altar.

That he treated his entire body being consumed by flames as nothing of consequence was the first strange thing.

Second, he looked as though he were waiting for some response to emerge from within it.

And clearly, he hadn't taken that stance without reason.

Something burst out of the altar.

A human-shaped figure, swathed in golden energy, rushed frantically toward Aiden as flames raged over his body.

[“D-don't burn it! No!”]

... Accompanied by a voice that thundered through the surroundings.

“...?”

At that voice, imbued with an overwhelmingly divine presence, Xeros dropped his quill, looking utterly out of his mind.

“Father Xeros.”

Alester, as half-dazed as everyone else around him, spoke up.

... His voice sounded even more unhinged than before.

“Was that the god of purification herself speaking?”

“...”

In a world where accounts of seeing a god's form were treated as myths, the god herself had spoken.