Alon did not know much about the Apostle of Sloth.  

That was natural.  

Apostles were not a concept that appeared in Psychedelia.  

And yet, Alon was able to devise a plan. The reason was simple—he knew what kind of power the sin of Sloth wielded.  

Of course, an Apostle and a Sin were different.  

However, every Apostle he had seen so far had used the power of sin.  

Still, since he knew nothing beyond that, he had to be cautious.  

For instance, while he could speculate why the Apostle of Sloth had taken Sili…  

He had no way of knowing why they were causing such havoc in the jungle.  

Even so, there was a method worth trying.  

“Are you serious?”  

“Yes.”  

Alon nodded toward Deus, whose lips had gone dry.  

Reinhardt, looking curious, stepped forward.  

“So, what’s the plan? Based on what you said, the moment we step into that black magic, it’ll devour our mana, and we’ll all die.”  

And on top of that, this guy won’t even be able to enter, Reinhardt added with a tilt of his chin toward Deus.  

“That’s right. If we just march into the forest as we are, the knights will be wiped out. Unless you two are at an exceptional level, you’ll burn through your mana just trying to resist that black magic.”  

For Alon, this was particularly deadly.  

Although his mana had increased significantly compared to a few years ago, he still had a relatively low amount.  

Since he could only endure by cloaking himself in mana, the time allowed to him would be mere minutes.  

‘Unless divine power could shield me from the black magic…’  

But he only knew that divine power possessed a form of absolute authority.  

Whether it could push back mana corruption was uncertain.  

Unfortunately.  

Alon still did not know how to properly wield divine power.  

Relying too much on an untested force would be foolish.  

“Syrkal.”  

“Yes?”  

“How far is it from here to the ruins?”  

“……At the very least, it would take about five hours in a straight path.”  

Five hours.  

While Alon fell into brief contemplation…  

“But if we don’t start from here and go through the eastern jungle of Kaslot, we can cut that time down by about thirty minutes.”  

Syrkal pointed to another location.  

Alon tilted his head.  

“…Isn’t that still inside the forest?”  

“Yes, but the black magic won’t be able to reach there. That place is—”  

“The Selvanus region.”  

“Yes.”  

Reinhardt, cutting into the conversation, spoke in a slightly disapproving tone.  

“But that seems way too dangerous. Deep in that region are the White Ghosts. It’s practically their domain. They don’t tolerate intruders.”  

Perhaps recalling a past encounter with the White Ghosts, Reinhardt was visibly reluctant.  

However, despite Reinhardt’s reaction, Alon remained silent.  

Then, finally,  

“We’ll go there.”  

He made his decision.  

“Are you serious?”  

Reinhardt frowned, his brows furrowed.  

But.  

“Yes.”  

“………Do you even know what the White Ghosts are?”  

“I do. But don’t worry. What you’re afraid of won’t happen, and we will rescue Sili.”  

Alon firmly held his resolve.  

“So don’t worry.”  

He lightly patted Deus on the shoulder.  

***

The ruins where the Thunder Serpent tribe had once lived.  

The landscape had changed drastically.  

Strange, grotesque eggs of unknown origin clung to various places.  

Veins like crimson tendrils spread out like a net, covering the ruins.  

Thump, thump—  

Like an orchestra playing in unison, the countless eggs pulsated.  

At the center of it all…  

“Hmm~”  

The Apostle of Sloth stood.  

A man with a slightly bored expression, gazing indifferently at the hundreds of pulsating eggs.  

Then.  

Vwoooom—  

“…So, they’ve finally stepped in.”  

A pulse of energy radiated from him. One of the black threads of mana vibrated grotesquely.  

Noticing this, the Apostle of Sloth smirked.  

He hadn’t waited long, yet the prey he had eagerly hoped for had taken the bait.  

No, in truth, they were too weak to even be called prey.  

They were so insignificant that he didn’t even need to go through such trouble for them.  

And yet, he had gone out of his way to set the stage for two major reasons.  

The first was Deus Macallian.  

He had done it solely to push his mind to the very limit.  

‘That’s why I let this one live back then.’  

The Apostle of Sloth shifted his gaze slightly, looking at Sili, who was tightly bound in black threads.  

Her mouth was gagged, and judging by her tattered state, she had been subjected to brutal torture.  

Unlike the other Apostles, who killed everything except their sacrificial offerings, he had deliberately kept Sili alive to provoke Deus easily.  

But there was another reason he hadn’t simply killed Sili in front of Deus and ended it there.  

That reason was none other than Marquis Palatio.  

‘That man is dangerous.’  

Marquis Palatio.  

His true nature was entirely unfathomable.  

There were too many curious things about him.  

Yet, the Apostle of Sloth had never felt the need to investigate him deeply.  

There was only one thing that mattered.  

Marquis Palatio was someone who could greatly interfere with his plans.  

That was the crucial point.  

A memory still vividly burned in his mind.  

The Apostle of Sloth had seen it clearly.  

Marquis Palatio—  

The way he had taken down the Apostle of Greed.  

From that moment onward, the Apostle of Sloth had deliberately kept himself hidden, quietly preparing this setup.  

A scenario where he would undoubtedly emerge victorious.  

Moreover, he had prepared additional forces in the jungle using hidden resources, just in case.  

He had eliminated nearly all possible variables.  

Even if Marquis Palatio showed up, there was no way the outcome could be overturned.  

‘Looks like they’ve figured out where I am.’  

He could sense the knights approaching, now within close range.  

‘Now, how should I handle this?’  

The Apostle of Sloth twisted his lips into a sneer.  

‘Turning their mana on and off in groups of three—looks like they’ve completely misunderstood the situation. Hmm, should I just kill them all when they’re halfway here?’  

‘No, maybe it’d be better to wait until they arrive and then slaughter them all, dumping their corpses where Deus is. That’s not bad. I could kill them all and leave just one survivor—let them go back and pour all their resentment onto Deus.’  

‘Then, once I’ve gauged the situation a little, I can lure Deus here and finally kill that woman right in front of him.’  

He turned his gaze toward Sili once again.  

“Game over.”  

His smirk widened.  

Beside her, the corpses of knights who had entered with Reinhardt lay with their necks twisted.  

But their necks weren’t the only things broken.  

Their bodies were all horrifically mutilated.  

Some had lost their arms.  

Some had no legs.  

Some were missing their heads.  

Others still had intact limbs, but their guts had spilled out.  

As if to explain why—  

Click.  

The Apostle flicked his fingers lightly.  

At that moment—  

Shhh—  

The corpses lying near Sili began to rise, one by one.  

Grotesquely, like puppets in a macabre play.  

And then—  

Slash!  

They started swinging their swords at each other.  

A dead knight’s head was severed cleanly.  

Dark red blood gushed from a sword that had pierced through metal armor.  

Limbs were hacked off and thudded onto the ground, while entrails spilled out in a wet squelch.  

There was no real purpose to this act.  

They were already corpses, after all.  

And yet, the Apostle continued this gruesome display for one reason alone.  

“How do you feel?”  

Sili was the reason.  

The more she broke, the deeper the wound in Deus’s mind would be.  

She clenched her eyes shut, unwilling to witness the horror.  

But—  

“Tsk, you shouldn’t do that.”  

With a flick of his fingers through the air, the Apostle forced Sili’s eyes open.  

“This is all for you. If you don’t watch, then it’s meaningless, isn’t it? The knights who came to save you are putting on quite the show, after all.”  

He chuckled, his shoulders trembling in amusement.

A gruesome hellscape was etched into Sili’s eyes, layering yet another layer of despair upon her.  

***

Sili stared blankly ahead.  

The corpses swung their swords at one another.  

Lifeless movements severed dead limbs, while grotesquely animated arms spilled intestines onto the ground.  

She knew.  

They were corpses.  

Their movements were nothing but a trick of the Apostle before her.  

And yet.  

Sili could not watch this tragic play with indifference.  

They were knights of the Eclipse Order.  

Every single one of them, now cutting each other down—  

She knew them.  

“Mmmpf—!”  

Zan’s arm, the one that always gestured playfully when he told his Sili jokes, was severed in an instant.  

Millin, who used to whisper behind Deus’s back with her in jest, had her head sliced off.  

Mune, who had once watched her magic with fascination and trained alongside her in the practice grounds, lost his leg.  

She—  

Her—  

Sili—  

Because of her—  

Everything—  

Everything was because of her.  

Splurt—  

A spray of crimson blood splattered across Sili’s vision.  

It was Mune’s blood.  

The one who had once praised her magic.  

Once again,  

Despair took hold of her eyes.  

Her stomach churned.  

She felt like she was going to vomit everything inside her.  

A suffocating guilt clouded her vision,  

while a sickening sense of powerlessness dyed her pupils in darkness.  

And yet.  

‘Help me.’  

Sili clung to that last thread.  

‘Help me, help me, help me, help me.’  

She desperately wished for salvation.  

If she stayed here any longer, she felt like she wouldn’t be herself anymore.  

As if she would have to run, to flee to a place where she could never return from.  

As if she might—  

Leap into the abyss.  

That thought terrified her beyond anything else.  

But gradually, a disgusting self-loathing overtook her.  

At the same time, Sili knew.  

Even amidst this nightmare, her sharp mind coolly analyzed the situation.  

Salvation—  

Would not come.  

Through her hazy vision, the abyss loomed before her.  

There was no salvation.  

Then wouldn’t it be better to just let go now?  

To just, to just—  

“……”  

Sili’s pupils began to be swallowed in complete darkness.  

At that moment, as the Apostle’s lips curled into a twisted smile—  

Crackle—!  

A sound.  

A small, almost insignificant sound.  

Yet, it was piercingly clear.  

As Sili, sinking into that thick darkness, absentmindedly lifted her gaze toward the sky—  

A flash of light descended.  

BOOOOM—!  

A golden bolt of lightning tore through the darkness, illuminating the world in an instant.  

Sizzle—!  

The black magic evaporated like mist, scattering into dust.  

Simultaneously—  

The black threads binding Sili’s limbs unraveled and vanished.  

“What the—?!”  

The Apostle’s voice rang out in shock.  

And then.  

As the dust settled, Sili’s blurred vision was filled— With a man.  

Crackle— Crackle!  

A dark coat, flickering with static electricity—  

“I’m a little late.”  

Marquis Palatio.  

“Ah……”  

A soft gasp escaped Sili’s lips before she even realized it.  

From Alon’s body, lightning coiled and crackled like a living force.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep