Episode 88

The moment Junian looked at us with a puzzled expression, Charon moved. Just as he had when he fought me before, he swung his dagger from a distance.

A blade of wind erupted from the weapon and shot toward Junian, but she showed no surprise. She merely stretched out her hand without even moving.

The wind blade, sharp enough to scar a giant tree, dissipated like a harmless breeze. Not a single mark remained on Junian’s palm.

Insane durability, I thought.

Was it just her palm, or her entire body? Either way, facing her alone would definitely be difficult.

“Hector!” I shouted loud enough to be heard outside before joining the fight.

Was Junian even human? I couldn’t tell, but for now, I used Hidden Steps.

Yet, something felt off. Junian’s eyes never left my face.

What kind of visual acuity does this woman have? I wondered.

The Sun Church’s inquisitors were few in number but elite. Rumor had it their combat prowess rivaled master-level martial artists. Apparently, that wasn’t just a rumor.

At that moment, Junian kicked off the ground and appeared right before me. It was the first time Hidden Steps had been so ineffective, and I was a bit slow to respond.

How would she attack?

I kept my eyes on her every move when Junian opened her palm toward me and uttered, “O’ Aton.”

The instant she invoked the name of the Sun Church’s god, divine power surged from her palm.

I crossed my arms to block the energy blast, but the impact sent me hurtling backward. I crashed through the conference room door and tumbled across the ground outside.

“Luan!” Evan sprinted toward me from a short distance away. “What’s going on?”

“Still figuring it out,” I answered honestly.

I still didn’t know if she was an enemy or not.

Just then, the wall shattered. Charon flew through the debris, rolled to a stop near me, and sprang up, glaring at the wall.

“So short-tempered…” Junian stepped through the hole, scanning the area with a sharp gaze before locking onto a familiar face. “You’re alive, Evan Helvin.”

“Yes?” Evan sounded dumbfounded. After all, he hadn’t expected the theology instructor, with whom he’d had little contact, to call him out.

I clapped my hands, and the dazed onlookers snapped to attention, quickly forming a loose circle around Junian. I didn’t think it gave us much of an advantage, though.

Junian brushed back her hair and said, “I’m not an enemy.”

“Then why did you attack?” I asked.

“You attacked me first,” she answered flatly.

That was true. I’d been the first to doubt her, but I hadn’t expected Charon to charge in like a madman.

I sighed. Among the Dark Church’s powers—or those of the demon kings—was necromancy. They could reanimate corpses or possess living bodies.

Yet Junian had just proven she wasn’t one of them. The divine power of the seventy-two gods was irrefutable evidence.

The saying, “Only baptized church members can claim absolute purity,” referred to the Sun Church’s priests, and the logic was simple: the Dark Church’s members could never receive the Sun Church’s baptism. Even the blessings granted exclusively to the Great Families’ descendants had proven incompatible with curses.

Of course, whether considering the seventy-two gods or the demon kings, also called the gods of disaster, they were after all simply gods beyond the confines of good and evil. Blessings and curses were merely different words for the same divine power.

Thus, the divine power Junian had just unleashed proved her innocence more convincingly than a hundred explanations.

I was the first to relax my combat stance. Gradually, those around me followed suit.

“You’re a church member,” I said, incredulous. “Why didn’t you recite the scriptures?”

It couldn’t be that difficult to utter a few lines.

Junian averted her gaze. “Just as people excel at some things, there are also things they can’t do.”

“What now?”

“Memorization isn’t my strength.”

“The scriptures?”

“What’s the point of remembering them?” She folded her hands, closed her eyes, and assumed a prayerful stance. “What matters is faith in God.”

We fell silent. For a moment, the sight of her praying against the backdrop of a ruined building felt sacred. Honestly, what I had just witnessed was enough to make me believe she was a saintess.

“Now that your doubts are cleared, shall we talk inside? Would you like something to eat?” she suggested.

***

We followed Junian back to the instructors’ building, where we sat at a moderately large table in the cafeteria. Using the communication crystal from the conference room, we shared the footage we had seen.

“The priest is Instructor Juan?”

“That is ridiculous.”

Hector and Evan were visibly shocked, while Saren seemed lost in thought.

Junian disappeared briefly before reappearing and tossing something at us. “Take this.”

One was a water bottle, and the other looked like a hardened block of compressed mixed grains.

“What is this?” I asked.

“It’s called an energy bar. You’ll eat these often once you become official heroes, so you’d better get used to it,” Junian answered.

Although it was tough to chew, I focused on filling my stomach.

Junian studied us. “Are you the only surviving hero disciples?”

“There are a few more,” Hector replied.

“I see.”

Charon gnawed on the tasteless bar and asked, “What happened to the other instructors?”

“They’ve either been killed or subdued.”

“By whom?”

“Instructor Juan. Or should we call him the priest now?”

“Priest.”

I turned to Hector, whose face had gone rigid. “Brother Hector, do you know anything about the Martial Arts Master? What was his past before becoming a Great Master?”

At this point, I wondered what the hell the family was doing. How had a priest infiltrated the main house as a Great Master? Had no one noticed?

Hector answered, “Instructor Juan came from the Vasquez family, a southern noble house. He displayed natural martial talent from a young age and joined the Third Imperial Knights as their youngest recruit. By thirty, he’d risen to the rank of captain. He declined an offer to become an imperial instructor and instead came here as our Great Master.”

“I see.”

He came from a prestigious family with a successful career in the Imperial Knights—nothing about his background seemed suspicious. Given his age, there shouldn’t have been time for him to be involved with the church. So how had this happened?

Evan murmured, “What do we do now?”

Junian fixed her gaze on him, her stare so intense it bordered on unsettling.

Come to think of it, she has been watching Evan closely.

Just as Evan started to squirm under her scrutiny, she looked away. “For now, we can’t expect outside help. The barrier surrounding the Butterfly Forest prevents it.”

We waited for her to elaborate.

“Under normal circumstances, that would make sense. But something feels off.”

“Feels off?”

“Even if this is an Archmage’s barrier, the incident is too severe to go unnoticed. Would the Badnikers truly remain unaware?”

She was perceptive. It wasn’t that her logic was airtight—just sharp intuition.

Hector scowled. “Are you saying the Badnikers condone this?”

“I’m just saying it’s strange. How would I know what the higher-ups are thinking?” Junian remarked. “We’re isolated among enemies with no hope of reinforcements. In situations like this, we should abandon false hopes and strategize with what we have. Most likely, we’ll have to kill the priest alongside the survivors.”

Seren met Junian’s gaze, her clear eyes unwavering. “Even the instructors couldn’t do anything and were slaughtered. What can hero disciples like us possibly accomplish?”

“The priest didn’t kill them,” Junian replied. “The demon king intervened because they gave him an opening.”

“What do you mean?” Seren pressed.

Junian crossed her arms and explained, “You saw the communication crystal’s recording, didn’t you? The priest said it himself—ignorance is a tragedy. They attacked him at the start of the ritual, giving the demon king an opening. So, we must disrupt the ritual another way. Then, the enraged demon king will kill the priest.”

Her words came out in a rush.

The demon king will kill the priest?

I couldn’t fully grasp her meaning, but Junian was an inquisitor. They knew more about the Dark Church than even active heroes.

“How do we disrupt the ritual?” I asked.

“Steal the sacrifices, scatter the forest’s mana, smash the altar—we must do whatever it takes to stop him from completing it.”

I hummed in response.

“Of course, that’s the most extreme approach. There may be other ways, so we should consider our options.” Junian studied us before adding, “For now, rest. Also, Luan Badniker?”

“Yes?”

“Come with me for a moment.”

Just me?

When I pointed at myself, Junian nodded.

With no other choice, I followed her.

Junian led me upstairs to a private room. Its layout suggested it belonged to her.

“Do you have something to say to me?” I asked.

“Yes. Let me ask you. You are their leader, aren’t you?”

Frankly, I wanted to avoid the topic, but I nodded since no one else could take the role.

Junian made a noncommittal sound before opening a drawer and producing a tobacco pipe along with some dried leaves.

Pressing the leaves into the pipe, she said, “Let’s talk about Evan Helvin.”

Evan’s name again. Somehow, I suspected her reason for calling me here was related to him.

“Did you notice anything unusual about him?” she pressed.

I replied, “Definitely not.”

Evan had sealed Raven alone and fought recklessly against monsters, but I doubted that was what she meant.

“Why are you so fixated on Evan?” I countered.

“Hmm. You noticed?”

“You’ve been watching him closely. I’d have to be a fool not to see it.”

“That’s right. But it’s not me who’s fixated—it’s the priest.”

“What?”

Junian suddenly grimaced. It seemed she didn’t have a match to light her pipe.

Unbelievable.

“Here.” I focused Fire Qi on my thumb and ignited the tobacco leaves.

“Oh, you’re pretty good,” she praised.

“It’s nothing.”

Junian took a satisfied drag before continuing, “The demon king’s summoning raises too many questions. The most glaring issue? The sacrifices are insufficient.”

She leaned against the wall, gazing out at the cold, dark forest. “The demon kings—or as the church calls them, the gods of disaster—are demanding gods. Once a priest begins reciting the Evil Scripture, the Dark Church’s Bible, they must finish flawlessly. A single misstep brings mutation or death.”

“Makes sense,” I said with a nod.

“So priests take great care with rituals. If one fails after it begins, all participants suffer the consequences.”

It was interesting information, but what did this have to do with Evan?

“Yet there’s one being exempt from such penalties. A being who can fail rituals without punishment, commune freely with the demon kings, and is favored by all six. The empire’s greatest enemy—the embodiment of evil.”

I knew who Junian meant. The name was infamous across the empire, yet paradoxically, no one had ever seen this shrouded figure.

“The Dark Pope,” I said. “The church’s leader.”

“That’s right. The difficulty of a ritual supervised by the Dark Pope is far lower. The number of sacrifices required will decrease, and there’s no need to chant the scriptures to the end.”

“You’re certain the Dark Pope is here?”

“Not quite. But the sacrifices for this ritual are insufficient, and I overheard the priest’s orders.”

“What orders?”

“Before the ceremony ends, he must secure the Young Dark Pope.”

At that moment, I thought of Evan Helvin from my past life. His downfall had been humanity’s most painful betrayal.

But what if it wasn’t betrayal at all? What if Evan had merely returned to where he belonged?

I sighed inwardly.

Junian exhaled a curl of smoke and said languidly, “Evan Helvin is the Young Dark Pope the priest seeks.”

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