Chapter 111

When I closed and opened my eyes again, a lot had changed.

Benaya’s death after fusing with a demon, and the Pope’s escape after his heretical acts.

If the Church was quiet, that in itself would be terrifying. It would mean their information control was just too good.

“What do you plan to do about the basement?“

At my question, Fel smiled enigmatically.

“Well?”

It didn’t seem like he would just bury the truth.

But revealing it would be the same as announcing that the person before me wasn’t ‘Ferdiel Levian,’ who died during the ritual that day, but merely ‘Fel.’

And the group of old-timers known as the Church of Light, which had lasted for a thousand years, would never acknowledge Fel.

In the original storyline, most of the old-timers died thanks to Solomon’s rampage.

For the Church, which had lost nearly everything, there was no alternative to Fel.

But not now.

The variable of the Pope was still alive, and his life wasn’t hanging by a thread, so it would be difficult for the old-timers to acknowledge Fel.

“Hey, have you thought about coming to the Academy?”

“I know what you’re worried about, Young Master, but don’t concern yourself.

You’ve already helped me more than I could have asked for.”

When did I?

I knew there were lines that couldn’t be crossed, even in a relationship of trust.

Lucius would never have crossed this precarious line.

But I wasn’t a protagonist who steadfastly stuck to the righteous path.

“The Pope will try to kill me.”

It was a simple prediction, but I was certain of it.

Right before he escaped using Benaya’s magic, the Pope was dying to kill me.

He was driven from his papal seat, and he sacrificed Benaya, who had always been loyal to him.

The ring that could make him Solomon was in my hands, so he had no moves left.

But the Pope would return somehow.

He would come back and try to kill me no matter what.

That was a fixed future.

“So, I’m asking you to save me.”

As if he understood the true meaning implied in my request, Fel’s eyes widened slightly before he let out a faint sigh.

“Alright, I’ll return as soon as things are sorted out here.”

Hearing that he would return, I felt a strange sense of relief.

The Pope wasn’t dead.

So Fel’s revenge couldn’t be said to be over either.

Rather, the situation had turned into a completely new state of affairs.

“Or should I help?”

“It seems I look like a pretty incompetent person in your eyes, Young Master.”

“It’s not that, it’s just friends helping each other out.”

“Don’t worry.

Showing the basement to others… is something I’ve prepared for my entire life living as Ferdiel.“

How was I supposed to take those words, which sounded like a confession?

“No matter how much you prepare yourself, reality is a bit different.”

Because humans were beings who collapsed like sandcastles before a wave when faced with reality, no matter how many hundreds or thousands of times they steeled themselves.

“Speaking from experience?”

“You think?”

“I’ll take that to heart.”

At my suspicious gaze, which questioned whether he really would, Fel laughed as if he found it amusing.

Right, if you’re laughing, I guess that’s enough. Amidst a strange sense of emptiness, I followed suit with a slight smile.

It was finally time to return to the Academy.

I felt like a traveler on the road home.

Somehow, the Academy had become a home to me. The feeling wasn’t so bad.

* * *

“So why are so many people gathered here?”

“That’s because….”

Hartain subtly cast his gaze somewhere.

A man, a head taller than the average person, was looking down at those surrounding him with a cold gaze.

His name was Evan Lisitoel.

The Empire’s greatest magician, standing still with his lips firmly shut, was a threat in and of itself.

“That’s the look of someone whose teeth are chattering from your incompetence.”

“And why are those people accepting it so meekly, as if they’ve committed a mortal sin?”

“Because they did commit a mortal sin.”

Hartain confirmed their guilt with a gentle voice.

As if they had heard Hartain’s words, the people in the distance were busy clearing their throats.

Evan had been patient in many ways.

Fortunately, there were no idiots who would deny that obvious fact and provoke Evan’s anger.

It even made me wonder if the priests, enduring Evan’s cold stare, would soon beg him to just kill them instead.

Enduring the gaze of a great magician was a difficult task for a person of average mettle.

But there was always someone who would step forward to resolve the situation.

“You’ll eat them up at this rate.”

And the one who took on the role of mediator was, thankfully, Fel.

“⋯⋯.”

It was clear from his face that he was weighing his options.

Expressing his emotions through a poker face was Evan’s own way of being considerate.

A consideration granted to Fel, a student of the Academy.

Fel, who understood the meaning within the silence and gaze, smiled faintly.

Should he really be thankful for this?

“I will re-enroll as soon as things are sorted out.”

“Fine.”

The ones who had questions were not Evan, but the priests.

He had decided to reveal the truth about the basement after Theo left.

No matter that Caelus Levian was a sinner who had committed a great crime and fled, Ferdiel Levian was a saint who absolutely had to exist in the Church, separate from his father’s sins.

Ignoring the stir caused by his words about re-enrolling, Fel beamed at Evan.

“Theo.”

After a moment of whispering with Hartain, Theo strode over to Fel at his father’s call and shook his hand.

“Hey, don’t do anything dangerous.”

“You should be careful too, Young Master.”

“Who do you think is in more danger, me or you?”

“The Academy is a safe place, but you seem to enjoy sticking your neck into dangerous places, Young Master.”

When did I?

Theo, who was about to deny it, quietly shut his mouth when Lucius nodded.

“Well then, we will be on our way.”

Theo, Lucius, and Lerwon approached Evan’s side, and after a brief flash from a magic circle, the four of them vanished without a trace.

People approached Fel, who had nonchalantly stuffed the note Theo had forced into his hand into his pocket.

“Your Eminence, Sword of Doctrine.”

It was to demand an explanation for his talk of re-enrolling.

If he were to bury the truth of the basement in darkness, he could continue to exist as Ferdiel Levian, as His Eminence, the Sword of Doctrine of the Church.

That wouldn’t be so difficult.

He possessed the greatest holy power in the Church, and the name of Levian, which had endured for 1,000 years, was not so light as to be scattered by the corruption of a single family head.

Furthermore, if Hartain, who would succeed Benaya as the head of the Ignos family, supported him, he might even be able to occupy the vacant papal seat, albeit with some noise.

The young Sword of Doctrine, not yet twenty, who had lost his support base.

Greed filled their gazes as they sized him up, wondering how they could use him.

Could they truly be called priests who served God?

It seemed even the gods wouldn’t want the faith of such people.

“There is a place I must take you all.”

At the voice, which held none of its usual benevolence, a slight commotion arose among the priests.

Fel, who could be seen as the cause of the commotion, was the only one calm within it.

“Hartain.”

“Yes, Your Eminence.”

“Let’s go to the basement.”

At the firm voice, Hartain nodded his head as if he had already prepared himself.

As Hartain took the lead, the priests, including a cardinal, scurried to follow.

In an instant, Fel was left standing alone, but there was no change in his expression.

What kind of faces would the priests make when they saw the basement?

How would they react when they realized that Ferdiel was not the real thing, but merely a lucky survivor?

“Ha….”

At the very least, they wouldn’t shed tears and beg for forgiveness before his eyes like Hartain did.

He had thought he might feel unburdened when this day came, but that wasn’t the case at all.

This feels damn dirty. Muttering softly, Fel walked on without a destination.

He headed toward a place he would never be able to go again if he were to be cast out of the Church.

* * *

“Sir Ignos! Please explain!!”

The whining sound from behind kept getting on his nerves..

He wondered if they would still be able to demand an explanation after seeing the tragedy of the past.

They would shamelessly demand an explanation, and at the same time, audacious thoughts would form in their heads.

Thoughts like, would it be alright to keep ‘Fel,’ not ‘Ferdiel Levian,’ as the Sword of Doctrine?

He opened the basement door, which had not been opened for a long time.

The door wasn’t locked.

They had left the place as it was, a place where the evidence of the audacious experiment—offering a sacrifice to instill the power of a god into a single human—had not completely vanished.

No human would have dared to set foot here without the Pope’s permission.

Even if there had been, Benaya would have taken care of them.

“All the answers are in here.”

Hartain declared to them, biting out the words.

He threw the door wide open, and they witnessed with their own eyes the tragedy that remained unchanged even after 10 years.

The blood-stained altar, the distinct stench, and the caked-on resentment.

The one born here was an undeniably holy saint, but the process to create him was nothing but corrupt.

“What in the world is this….”

Those who realized it late let out groans.

As the years went by, the number of people possessing holy power dwindled.

Even among those with holy power, few chose the Church.

It was far more profitable to become a magician.

Who would want to board a ship that was so obviously sinking?

Therefore, this was what they chose.

A man-made saint.

It was blasphemy and, at the same time, a fanatical faith in God.

A certain priest who was silently examining the altar asked.

“Was the saint artificially born here… Ferdiel Levian?”

At her question, a quiet ripple of shock spread among the priests.

A saint with so much holy power that it was reminiscent of the golden age 1,000 years ago.

One day, Ferdiel Levian appeared with overwhelming holy power, as if he had been chosen by God.

Even the priests who had known him from before unanimously called it a miracle.

If that was not a miracle, but something completed on such a cruel and inhumane altar…!

“The one who was to be the beneficiary of the altar that day was indeed Ferdiel Levian.”

“The one who was to be the beneficiary…?”

“However, the sacrifice of a certain female priest changed everything.”

All of the Pope’s plans were perfect.

That is, until that ‘female priest’ appeared.

Hartain relayed to the priests the story he had heard from Fel long ago.

The truth of that day, which had been so painful to even speak of.

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