35 – Devotion with the Sword (10)

A commotion ensued. However, Cain only gazed at Malachia. Judge Malachia’s face turned pale, and from the direction of the armrest, the sound of breaking wood was heard. After the inquisitors bowed their heads to recite prayers of mourning, and after Heinrich calmed down a bit, Cain spoke.

“The Demon King cannot draw out what is not within himself. What I saw was like this…”

Even those in despair, those who couldn’t escape the abyss, and those who, like Judge Malachia, looked at Cain with sharp eyes, all listened to his words. Cain recounted as calmly as possible the final actions of the deceased. About the thorn vines of the tongue, the closed monastery gate, the deadlock of the Mercy Knights, and the curse of mockery.

“Father Haspel was said to have fallen under the curse of mockery as the paragon of purity, William. His actions, stripped of their flaws, were lewd and grotesque, exaggerated.

The priest tried to wake William up until the very end, but in the end, that grotesque creature pierced the priest’s body.

‘It’ is not guilty of its own downfall. It proclaimed that all other things had tempted it, and if the priest truly thought so, God would judge it and burn everything with holy fire.”

Cain fell silent. The terrible scenes flashed through his mind again. The expressions of relief on the faces that had been pinned to the stone wall after the long and dreadful agony finally ended.

Lily grabbed his arm and let go. Cain took a deep breath.

“Yes, that’s what we saw.”

“…I sent Haspel there.” The judge’s voice cracked like a dry dead branch.

“When news of the archbishop’s attack reached you, Your Majesty immediately ordered an investigation. You personally ordered the attacked individuals to be moved to the sealed monastery and issued orders for the Mercy Knights and others to mobilize.

I sent Haspel to the archbishop’s diocese. But his report was utterly confusing, and if the one who sent the report wasn’t Haspel, I would have torn them apart long ago.”

The building itself was not the ordinary residence of the archbishop. It was more like a small fortress than the archbishop’s dwelling. Well-trained guards for the archbishop himself. All doors were equipped with locks and mechanisms that could be used in a fortress. They were obsessed with light to an extreme degree.

The archbishop’s own room was chaotic. The floor was covered with melted wax and broken mirrors. William’s large hammer, which was supposed to be splendidly decorated on the wall, rolled on the floor. Haspel, who had been a crusader, recognized that this was the method he used to face the shadow of the demon during the Fifth Crusade.

“The shadow of the demon. Unbelievable.

There was no doubt that the seven heroes defeated the demon. At that time, the nightmares that blinded the eyes and broke the hearts of the crusaders disappeared.

There is no way to explain the brilliance of that sunlight. Even the heretics knelt down, placing their swords on the ground and offering prayers of gratitude.

But now, more than ten years later, someone attacked one of the seven heroes, and the hero treated him as if he were the ‘shadow of the demon.’ It was hard to believe.

Someone imitated the demon’s sorcery. I don’t want to think about it, but the demon must have resurrected. In any case, I sent that report to the Holy See.”

“So what happened?”

“His Holiness the Pope announced that he would canonize all seven heroes.”

A vein bulged on the judge’s forehead.

“To recognize them as saints, a thorough investigation of their entire lives and deeds is necessary. At first, I thought it would be a comprehensive investigation into the dubious actions of the seven heroes.”

Cain was taken aback. Wasn’t that the conversation he had with Lily? Through the judicial process, it was supposed to allow unrestricted and lawful investigations. But Judge Malachiah’s words had a slightly strange nuance.

“But wasn’t it supposed to be like that?”

“…No. I said it earlier, but His Holiness the Pope intends to elevate the seven heroes to a position where they cannot be brought down.

Perfect, flawless heroes who have never made a mistake or, if they have, have overcome it. Stuffed heroes that wouldn’t have a speck of dust even if you shook them. To achieve that, all the trash had to be found and burned.”

Cain gritted his teeth. Malachiah also sensed Cain’s anger. He was also frustrated.

“Yes. His Holiness denies all suspicions, wants to burn them, and make them disappear.”

“Why on earth?”

“Faith.”

Malachiah closed his eyes. He dispersed his anger. In the sudden absence of anger, only resignation remained, like a faint sigh.

“For the innocent faith and everyday life of ordinary, humble people.

The Park of Devotion to the Sword… the numerous rumors and expectations about the seven heroes. Hope. The experience of unity under the same flag, even though everyone fought under it. Even if we fought, we still had a moment when we became one.

If people find out that this dream was a betrayal and deception, what will happen to them? They will crumble, split, fight, blame and curse each other, and eventually stab each other with a sword. A greater conflict will arise than ever before. The feeling of being betrayed, the feeling of being deceived, the doubt that no one can be trusted will swell.

It would have been better if there was nothing at all. The misery that follows a momentarily happy dream is even more torturous. The cruel thing you can do to a thirsty person is not to give them any water at all, but to give them just enough to wet their lips.

And above all, with something that is not certain…”

Malachiah took a breath.

“There is no reason to cause a commotion with something that is not certain. If someone is impersonating the Demon King, we just have to eliminate them.

If it is the Demon King himself who has resurrected, the situation will change a little. People will be shaken, but they won’t lose hope. ‘The seven heroes are still with us.

And since we have defeated the Demon King once, we can overcome anything if we try.’ That’s what they will think. If we’re lucky, they might even gain more motivation by thinking, ‘The Demon King is not easily eliminated after all, so we have to uproot it this time.’

This is the worst-case scenario.

If the seven heroes fall one by one in a miserable way, and their appearance is completely different from the heroes we knew. They were not the heroes we thought they were, but rather questionable individuals who could be called vulgar, dirty, and human, and even their achievements… are questionable.

If the curse of scorn blankets the entire world, what will happen? If the shadow, like the nightmare of the demon king, overturns the entire realm again, what should people rely on to live?

Judge Malachia clearly appeared exhausted. Cain thought he might be trying to offer some kind of ‘help.’ From the judge’s perspective and in front of other inquisitors, he probably couldn’t speak honestly.

Malachia himself knew that the current situation was flowing into the most desperate third, the worst case. Maybe the Pope knows it too. So, the Pope is trying to forcefully push all of this into the first or second flow for the sake of the daily lives and happiness of ordinary people, creating a dramatic narrative for the seven heroes. Burning the shadows, leaving only achievements.

It was an attempt to immortalize history.

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However.

However?

“Then what becomes of Sister Haspel’s sacrifice? The dead members of the Mercy Knights. Those swept away alongside Father William?”

Cain’s breath became heavy. The times when rogue knights used to mock ordinary people freely. The children singing about how only the seven heroes remain by our side, while ordinary people who had abandoned all expectations, and the Empire and the Church were ridiculed.

“Is the Sanctuary of the Sword’s Benevolence really worth that much… truly, is it of that value?”

Malachia did not answer.

“What is Magdeburg?”

“Nothing.”

Malachia sighed deeply.

“Nothing at all.”

He flicked his armrest, thud, thud.

“Also, it’s a sewer. The world’s largest sewer. All sinners in the world come here and deposit the filth of their sins.

All the dirt of the world is thrown here, and people return to their daily lives. Clean. Pure. Beautiful.

What goes into the mouth benefits people, but whatever leaves the body is a way to defile them… Magdeburg and the Sanctuary of the Sword’s Benevolence are the world’s largest sewer.”

Afternoon rays of light piercing through the clouds separated Cain and Malachia.

“The religious tribunal is no exception. Those who have reached this point are likely individuals who have embraced the most despicable and filthy things. Our inquisitors, we merely gather, burn, and devour the filth.

We cannot imagine a better tomorrow. We cannot promise happiness to people. Leading towards a better direction, we cannot do. However.”

The rays of light became even clearer. Malachia’s strength returned to his body. It was his judgment and declaration. The resilience he had maintained throughout his life.

“But we can prevent going towards a worse direction. As we have done so far, we will continue to do so in the future. And that, is the will of His Holiness the Pope.”

“…The clergy never had the intention of supporting.”

Malachia flinched at Cain’s abrupt words.

“Not only support, but there will be only interference and destruction of evidence. The clergy, like us, knows nothing about the detailed truth, but we have no desire to dig it up. Because we don’t want to know.”

“Whatever you think, that is your freedom.”

“Even sending a cooperation request to the Empire is saying, ‘We’ve done all we can. If something is not known, it’s not our fault. It’s the Empire’s fault.’

If I and my fellow agents find out something. And if, by chance, it’s something so horrifying that it shatters people’s illusions, then all the consequences should be fully swallowed by the Empire.”

“Whatever you think, that is your judgment.”

“Does His Holiness plan to ascend to high places with heroes? Dare anyone pull you down to an unreachable place?”

“Just as you cannot speak lightly of the Emperor’s will, I too cannot speak of His Holiness’s will.”

The beam of light disappeared.

Malachia now looked as feeble as a withered tree stump. Once, he might have been the foundation of a giant, but now all that remained was the worn-out smallness of a tired old man weathered by storms.

Even the once imposing judge of the religious tribunal, difficult to even look at, is merely a human being. More things that cannot be done than things that can be done are clear limits,

And throwing away everything just to prevent something worse.

Like Cain himself. A worn-out person.

“Did you plant an apple tree, even?”

A small word. A murmuring word. It was a word so small that it could only be heard by himself. However, Lilly paid attention to his words once again. Lilly once again grabbed Cain’s hem and slowly tilted her head.

Malachia leaned back. He appeared exhausted.

“…I hope you have luck with your investigation. May the gods illuminate your path. But you must hurry. Before sunset. Before everything is plunged into darkness, ignite the spark. Prepare for the night that descends.”

Cain and Lily rose without a word. The inquisitors silently escorted them. But as the door was opened for them to leave,

“…Yet there is one small clue I can give you.”

The unwavering determination in their unbroken branches held onto their hearts.

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