Chapter 202 - Sloth and Thunder (4)

Alon knew little about the Apostle of Sloth. Naturally so. Apostles had never appeared in Psychedelia.

Even so, he had been able to devise a plan because he knew what powers the Sin of Sloth used. Apostles and Sins were different, of course, but every apostle he had seen so far had wielded the power of a Sin.

Of course, knowing nothing beyond that, he had to be careful. For instance, although he could guess why the Apostle of Sloth had taken Silli, he had no idea why the apostle was doing this in the jungle. Still, there was a method worth trying.

"Really... sir?"

"Yes."

Alon nodded at Deus, whose dry lips moved, and Reinhardt stepped forward curiously.

"So what's your plan? From your explanation, it sounds as though everyone will have their mana eaten away and die the moment they enter that black mana. And this fellow can't even go in," Reinhardt added, jerking his chin toward Deus.

"Correct. If the order enters the forest as things stand, it will be wiped out. Anyone below your level would expend far too much mana merely resisting that black mana."

That was particularly fatal for Alon. His reserves had grown remarkably compared to a few years ago, but they had been so small to begin with that they remained far below average. In a place where he had to keep himself cloaked in mana just to survive, he would have less than a few minutes.

'Unless cloaking myself in divine stature can block the black mana, of course.'

Yet all he knew about divine stature was that it possessed an absolute quality. He was uncertain whether he could use it to repel mana, and unfortunately, he still did not know how to wield it properly. Putting too much faith in something he had yet to finish studying would be foolish.

"Sircal."

"Yes, sir."

"How far are the ruins from here?"

"... Probably at least five hours in a straight line."

Five hours. While Alon considered that, Sircal pointed elsewhere.

"But if we go through the jungle east of Caslot rather than setting out from here, we can shorten that to about thirty minutes."

Alon tilted his head.

"... Isn't that inside the forest?"

"Yes, but the black mana won't be able to encroach there. That area is—"

"The Selvanus Zone."

"Yes."

Having joined the conversation, Reinhardt added rather disapprovingly, "But that seems far too dangerous. The Hundred Demons are deep inside that area. It's effectively their territory. They don't leave intruders alone."

Reinhardt was openly reluctant, perhaps because of his previous encounter with the Hundred Demons. Despite his reaction, Alon remained silent for a moment before making his decision.

"We'll go that way."

"Are you serious?" Reinhardt asked, his brow furrowing.

But Alon replied, "Yes."

"... Don't you know about the Hundred Demons?"

"I do. But don't worry. What you're afraid of won't happen, and we can rescue Silli as well."

Alon calmly stood by his decision.

"So don't worry."

He lightly patted Deus's shoulder.

####

The ruins where the Thunder Serpent tribe had once made its home looked very different now. Bizarrely shaped eggs of unknown origin clung here and there, and red, veinlike tendrils formed a web covering the ruins.

THUMP. THUMP.

Dozens, hundreds of eggs pulsed individually, as though playing in an ensemble. At their center stood the Apostle of Sloth.

"Hmm."

With a somewhat bored expression, the man gazed indifferently at the hundreds of heaving eggs.

Then—

HUMMM.

"... Finally caught them?"

One of the threads of black mana spreading widely out from him vibrated strangely. Noticing it, the Apostle of Sloth grinned. He had not even waited long, yet the prey he had so eagerly awaited had taken the bait.

No, they were far too weak to be called prey. They were weaklings who had never warranted this much effort. Still, he had gone to the trouble of setting the stage for two main reasons. The first was Deus Makalian: to push his mind to its absolute limit.

'That's why I kept this one alive back then, too.'

The Apostle of Sloth glanced toward Silli, who was tightly wrapped in black threads. Her mouth was bound, and she trembled with despair-filled eyes, utterly worn down, as though she had suffered brutal torture.

Unlike the other apostles, who had killed everyone except their sacrifices, he had deliberately kept Silli alive to make it easier to provoke Deus. But the reason he had not simply ended things by killing her before Deus's eyes was Marquis Pallatio—the second reason for this elaborate setup.

'He's dangerous.'

Marquis Pallatio. He could not begin to fathom the man's true identity. There were so many strange things about him. That did not mean he had bothered to investigate the marquis deeply. Only one thing mattered: Marquis Pallatio was capable of seriously interfering with his plans.

The scene still came vividly to mind. The Apostle of Sloth had clearly witnessed Marquis Pallatio disposing of the apostle of Greed.

That was why, ever since the apostle of Greed had been eliminated, he had deliberately kept quiet and prepared this stage in silence—a stage on which he was guaranteed to win. Furthermore, he had used an object hidden in the jungle beforehand to create reserve forces in case of unforeseen circumstances. He had effectively ruled out most possible variables. Even if Marquis Pallatio came, he would never be able to turn the tables.

'It seems they've found out where I am.'

He could sense the knights approaching nearby.

'Now, what shall I do?'

The Apostle of Sloth twisted his lips into a malicious smile as he thought.

'They're switching their mana on and off in groups of three, so they've definitely fallen for the misunderstanding. Hmm. Should I kill them all when they're halfway here?'

'No. Why not kill them all once they arrive and dump their corpses where Deus is? Yes, not bad. Killing them all except one and sending that survivor out would work, too. Let him pour his resentment out on Deus.'

'After that, I can watch how things develop, lure Deus in, and kill that bitch right before his eyes—'

He looked toward Silli again.

"The end."

He grinned once more.

Beside her lay the bodies of the knights who had entered with Reinhardt and died with their necks snapped. But broken necks were not their only injuries. Every corpse was badly mutilated. One lacked an arm, another a leg. One had no head, while another had intact limbs but lay with all his entrails spilling out.

As though demonstrating why, the apostle gave a slight flick of his finger. At that moment, the corpses lying near Silli began rising one by one, moving grotesquely like puppets in a show.

Then—

SHUNK!

They began swinging their swords at one another.

An already dead knight's head came off. Dark red blood flowed along a sword that had pierced plate armor. Severed arms and legs fell to the ground, and entrails spilled out.

There was no value whatsoever in these acts. They were already corpses. Yet the apostle continued for one reason.

"What do you think?"

Silli. The more she broke, the greater the blow to Deus's mind would be.

Silli squeezed her eyes shut, unwilling to see the spectacle. But—

"Oh dear. We can't have that."

The apostle lightly swept his finger through the air, and Silli's eyes were forced open.

"It's all for you. What's the point if you don't watch? The knights who came to save you are even putting on a play for you."

The apostle snickered so hard his shoulders shook. As the horrific scene of hell was etched into Silli's eyes, another layer of despair settled over them.

####

Silli stared blankly ahead. Corpses thrust their swords at one another. A dead arm fell away amid soulless movements, and entrails spilled at the motion of a grotesquely moving arm.

She knew. Those were corpses. Their movements, too, were the work of the apostle before her. Yet she simply could not watch this tragic play without feeling anything.

They were knights of the Eclipse order. Every one of those men harming one another—was someone she knew.

"Mmph—"

The arm of Jan, who had always told silly jokes, fell away with terrible ease. Milin, who had playfully gossiped with her about Deus, lost his head. Myun, who had marveled at her magic and trained alongside her in the practice yard, had his leg cut off.

With her—

Her—

Silli—

With me—

──────

───

─

Everything.

Everything, because of me—

SPLAT!

Dark red blood burst out, covering Silli's vision. It was Myun's blood. Myun, who had praised her magic. Once again, despair settled into her eyes.

Her stomach churned. She felt as though she might vomit everything up at any moment. Horrible guilt wore her eyes dull, and a suffocating, almost hollow helplessness stained her pupils black.

Even so—

'Save... me.'

Silli barely held on.

'Save me save me save me save me—'

She desperately longed for help.

If she stayed here any longer, she felt she would cease to be herself. She felt she would have to flee somewhere she could never return from.

────As though she would leap into an empty, bottomless pit.

She was so terribly afraid.

But gradually, disgust with herself swept over her. At the same time, Silli knew. Even in this horrific situation, her keen mind coldly faced the truth. Salvation could not come.

A dark, bottomless pit began to appear in her clouded vision. There would be no salvation anyway. Then wouldn't it be better to find peace now? Better to... better to—

"..."

Just as Silli's pupils began to turn completely dark, and a twisted smile formed on the apostle's lips—

CRACK!

She heard a sound. A tiny sound, yet so very distinct. As Silli, sinking into murky darkness, blankly looked up at the sky, a flash of light poured down.

BOOOOOM!

A dazzling golden flash rained down, instantly lighting up the world.

CRACKLE!

In that golden light, the black mana vanished along with the dust, as though vaporized. At the same time, the black threads around Silli's arms and legs disappeared.

"What—!"

The apostle's bewildered voice rang out.

Then, once the thick dust had settled, a man filled Silli's vision.

CRACK! CRACKLE!

A man wearing a crackling, ink-black coat—

"I'm a little late."

Marquis Pallatio.

"Ah..."

Silli let out an involuntary exclamation. The lightning bursting from Alon's body, coiling around him, erased the darkness gathered in her eyes.