A Priest's Life as a Villain Chapter 32

Chapter 032

"It looks like soone is very pleased to see you."

"?"

Ran raised his eyebrows. Bern's face hardened as he looked at him.

"H... huuuh?"

Fine wrinkles creased around the man's eyes. A stifled chuckle escaped from the hand covering his mouth. Soon, a faint, groaning sort of laugh echoed through the torture chamber.

Bern pointed at Ran with a finger.

"Amazing, truly amazing. You really are a mad dog through and through."

"Care to explain? What on earth is going on here?"

As he spoke, Ran looked around. The inquisitors were radiating an atmosphere of hostility. For a mont, Ran imagined taking them all on at once here.

'Would that even be possible?'

Ran swallowed hard.

"Mad Dog Ran! I'm Jose! In the Gerinhild, I'm known by the nickna Black Wolf."

A man suddenly stepped forward to introduce himself. True to his nickna, he wore a black wolf mask.

"I take pride in my job as an inquisitor. But a while ago, I heard sothing shocking— is it true that you colluded with heretics and stabbed the Special Unit in the back?"

Before Ran could reply, soone else interjected.

"It never made sense that the Grand Cathedral of Gerinhild was attacked! That would be impossible without inside help."

"If this gets out, we're all finished."

"Our honor is on the line, Mad Dog Ran!"

Bern had turned his back completely. Felix, visible from the front, circled around Zilla with a sly smile on his face.

Tsk, clack.

Suddenly, a clear, sharp sound rang out. The commotion died down at once. Everyone's eyes, Ran's included, turned to the source.

A woman stepped out from the dim shadows. There was dignity in her gait. Her form-fitting, neatly pressed Special Unit uniform accentuated her toned physique.

She stood and faced Ran head-on. There was a solid difference of a head or two in height.

Ran lifted his chin, trying to look down on her more imposingly. He clenched his jaw to hide his discomfort. He hadn't expected a woman of his own age group to be present. But above all, her eyes were too clear.

"My na is Tessa Dergagne, of the forr 2nd division of the Special Unit. I know you well. My grandfather also liked you."

His molars ground together.

Lucus Dergagne. The na of the forr Special Unit commander Ran had assassinated.

"My grandfather was a devout priest of the Lord and a loyal soldier. He was eccentric, but also gentle—especially to ."

Ran rembered the smile the forr commander had shown when holding his late-born grandson. It seed Tessa was reminiscing about that smile.

"If you really did collude with that woman, then I'll be the one to kill you."

The mont she finished speaking, Tessa spun on her heel. A subtle fragrance wafted in the air.

Ran had imagined his end before. No ideal image ever ca to mind. Every ti, he died alone amid desolation. In so ways, he envied the forr commander. Maybe it was he, after all, who was blessed.

Ran approached Bern calmly.

"Is what they're saying all true? Who is that woman?"

Bern forced a neutral expression. Internally, he thought, what a brazen bastard. That nonchalant face felt disgustingly shaless.

"Zilla, revolutionaries' second general branch manager. She's a pretty high-ranking officer."

"She said she knows ?"

"Ask her yourself."

Zilla looked as though lifting her head took everything she had. She barely managed to open one eye, but it was so swollen that the white was more covered than not; she couldn't focus.

Ran grabbed Zilla by the chin and lifted her face up.

"Spit it out. You're going to die by my hand today anyway."

"? Uh... uuh."

Only a foamy, incoherent sound ca from her mouth. Ran's pupils trembled slightly. A cold chill ran down his spine.

Felix, who was standing off to the side, muttered,

"She bit her tongue off with her front teeth. Tough bitch."

Ran let go of Zilla's chin. Her head dropped limply.

"Isn't this going way too far? Commander."

"You say that even after seeing all your comrades here?"

"Did that woman actually say so? That I joined hands with her?"

Chains clattered loudly behind them. Zilla convulsed, wringing out what life she had left.

Ran turned to look. He locked eyes with Zilla. Over her bloodied face, he saw the fierce spirit she once had. Zilla shouted in near agony.

Ran was sure she had not betrayed him.

"That's not it. But all the circumstances point to you. I'm not comfortable with this either. Frankly, I've always trusted and admired Mad Dog Ran as a comrade."

"Then you need to explain it so I can understand."

He glanced around at the surrounding inquisitors as he spoke, mapping out in his mind how to react if things turned catastrophic.

One person in particular presented himself as the largest obstacle.

Zima was sitting with his arms crossed and legs splayed wide.

"The Special Unit's unprecedented string of defeats recently was thanks to that bastard Dante, the local branch manager you killed. Rember him, don't you?"

Ran and Bern each recalled different mories.

Ran recalled Dante's face; Bern, the strange halo he had seen over Dante at the mont Ran killed him.

Bern continued quickly.

"That woman was Dante's superior. Everyone here must be wondering—Revolutionaries don't even know each other's identities, so how would I know this? There was an informant in the Special Unit. Regal, the 4th branch manager. He, too, belonged to Zilla's general branch. He's dead as well—the sa way, by your hand."

Chill hung in the air of the torture chamber. Bern lent weight to every syllable.

"Regal told himself. He said there are probably Revolutionaries agents inside the Special Unit itself. I had suspected as much. I just didn't want to admit it, so I ignored it."

His steps stopped in front of Ran.

"Explain, Ran: Why do the actions of Dante—such as the assassination of High Priest Boras and Martin Sergio, or the destruction of the Brinhill Church—coincide with your own movents?"

"Do you really suspect just because of that?"

"No. On the day the Revolutionaries all crawled into headquarters and were wiped out, the only survivor was that woman. And the one who chased her last—wasn't it you?"

"That's just baseless."

"Baseless? When even Mad Dog failed in pursuit, that's practically conclusive proof, isn't it? Don't you know better than anyone? This is how the Special Unit operates."

The world was filled with plenty of heretics guilty of cris. No one demanded ticulous evidence for each of them. A single charge sufficed. It was the world they knew. They all understood that any defense was aningless.

The one to break the silence was Zima.

"I can't stand to hear any more."

He stood up. He looked as overwhelming as a bear stretching his shoulders.

"Sit down, Zima. If you truly are Ran's godfather, you should rember the sacred oath sworn to the Lord."

"What are you getting at, Bern?"

"I an even you aren't free from responsibility."

"You're out of your mind."

"I'm not the mad one. It's you, who trample on and disregard the honor of the Special Unit."

Ku-goong.

The iron door swung open and ard Special Unit mbers filed inside, forming ranks. They instantly surrounded Ran and Zima. Silver blades glinted from all directions. At the center, Tessa stepped forward and partially drew the sword at her waist.

"The dishonor brought to the Special Unit ends here."

"Get lost before I split your head open."

Zima's rebuke was seen by so inquisitors as a provocation. Those who'd always viewed Zima unfavorably began to cautiously draw their weapons. So among them had lost family mbers in the Revolutionaries' assault on the Grand Cathedral.

The Special Unit mbers and inquisitors encircling them shifted their sword points back and forth between Ran and Zima.

"Zima! Let's not escalate this! Even for you, you'd better be prepared if you try to face everyone here."

Jose shouted with confidence.

Bern's expression beca more relaxed, as if he'd already won halfway. Zima's agitation had unwittingly helped things go smoothly. If he was lucky, he might resolve everything today. It was as if Lord Asriel himself was finally showing him favor.

Bern slowly stepped between Zima and Ran.

"I've trusted the two of you more than anyone. Ran, let's be honest. All you've done, and this current situation—if I wanted, I could have covered it all up. Why do you think I'm pushing this far?"

Ran's eyes were already on the two swords at Bern's waist.

He asured the ti to snatch and draw them and go for Bern's vital points, the response rate of others coming to retaliate, the best trajectory in dealing with them all while sacrificing an arm if needed.

Mind made up, Ran looked at Bern.

He knew no words would help. He had never intended to beg pathetically for his life.

What remained now was his true calling. As a priest of Quersa, as an agent of divine retribution. Only the obligation to punish true heresy surfaced.

"I wondered, you see. Why would soone who's neither a demon nor has ties to the Liberation Army go this far? Why? What could you possibly gain, risking even your life? Only later did I realize."

Everyone gathered here was a renowned expert from across the country. Fate would be decided in a blink.

?? As Iscarang had said, it had been a lonely journey.

"Maybe you're an enemy on an unimaginable scale. Perhaps, say, the emperor's last obstacle?"

Bern whispered in Ran's ear.

"Or... Quersa."

It felt as if the taut thread had snapped. He had often thought this: If anyone on the mainland were to discover his true identity, it would be Bern.

But sothing was missing. If Bern had truly believed his own words, he would never have left such an opening.

Life is a series of choices. But Bern failed to realize that the man before him had reached such detachnt that he could let go at any mont, without the least hesitation.

He was just about to reach out.

"Ran―!"

A heavy voice rang out as an overwhelming force pressed down on Ran's shoulder.

Zima had approached before anyone realized.

Ran froze, and not only because of that. He felt sothing transcendent. For a mont, it was as if a god had intervened, holding ti still, releasing him only when the divine will lifted.

"??."

Ran saw Zima's sorrowfully sunken eyes.

"Heh, heh... Yes, I must admit. I underestimated you all too much."

Zima's desolate self-mockery instead tightened the tension in the room. Uneasy breaths escaped from everyone watching.

"Bern. Let's respect each other in our own ways."

With that, Zima turned and strode briskly to Peco.

"? I'm sorry, Peco."

Peco's eyes went wide.

Thwack!

Like a wild beast kicking out, Zima swung his arm. Peco's sleeve was ripped clean off.

"Father??"

Peco staggered backward. Even at the desperate call, Zima didn't stop his strange actions. He forcefully rolled up the shoulder of the exposed arm.

"A-ah!"

Peco writhed violently.

Ran, Bern, Felix, Tessa—all of them had no idea what Zima's intentions were. They could only watch, rigid.

Grasping Peco roughly, Zima dragged him over in front of Bern.

"Yes, Bern. The sacred oath. Of course I rember. So allow to personally punish the sin my child has committed."

No matter how Peco struggled, it was useless. Like a beast with its neck caught in a predator's jaws, he trembled all over.

Bern was no different. Even he was caught off guard by the sudden turn of events.

"F-father! W-wait! Please, wait!"

Ignoring the shouts, Zima lifted the collar he held even higher with one hand.

Ran's and Bern's pupils widened in shock.

On Peco's dark skin, the emblem of the Revolutionaries — aning "resolve" — was branded clear as day.

"No! It's a misunderstanding! Please, please! Listen to , father!"

Felix hurried over and confird the truth. The sa mark was on Zilla's shoulder. He and Bern exchanged looks. A sense of emptiness passed between them.

"Ran?!"

Unsettled gazes finally converged on one spot. The single cry held a surge of emotions.

Ran looked down at his wetted pupils. He didn't avoid it. For a brief mont, he wondered how he must look to others.

"Peco. You shouldn't forgive , either."

A cold blade pierced the boy's throat.

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=

Fuck.

【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】