Chapter 177: Gap (2)
You shall now beco the executors and instrunts carrying out the will of the Holy Sun Church.
That day, soone whose face was covered with a veil had indeed said this to the children gathered at the Cathedral.
An instrunt does not require free will or conviction.
It simply moves according to the will and command of the one who holds the handle.
There is no mission or responsibility within that.
Because the one who holds the handle is none other than the Holy Sun Church, the representative of the rciful Ilionel.
The mission and responsibility belong solely to them.
Therefore, we were also told to be infinitely grateful for being allowed to act as the Church’s agent.
A world where Ilionel’s will is evenly spread, where only His words and laws beco the rules that govern.
To be used as parts in the grand plan toward that overwhelming utopia—be proud of being consud for that cause, and be so moved by the opportunity that we ought to weep with gratitude and sob uncontrollably—that person had indeed said so.
Your sole purpose is to burn fiercely, using yourselves as firewood.
Do not forget—even if you turn to ash, the warmth gained from burning your body will serve to spread His will far and wide.
It is right, and again right, to willingly and properly throw your body onto the pile of firewood.
You are torches and soon lighthouses.
Your fire and light shall brightly illuminate the world.
You shall beco the blade and the tip of the sword to rewrite the perception of this rotting world—of the foolish ones who cry out the nas of ancient heroes rather than Ilionel.
Thus, you must beco tools that are hotter, more radiant, and sharper than anything else.
With those words, he had ended, exhaling a breath as if to calm his excitent.
…Then, may I dare ask?
A world where His will is thoroughly spread.
A world where fire, light, and even swords are no longer needed.
If such a world were to co, what would beco of us?
…Lancia had ultimately not spoken that question aloud at the ti.
Not only because one boy who had voiced a similar thought had been dragged away and never returned.
But also because of the faith that had firmly taken root within her—
The village where she lived as a child.
The demons who burned it down and massacred everyone except her.
The cursed beings she couldn’t kill enough tis to be satisfied—such beings, of course, would have no place in a world governed by Ilionel.
That belief had been immovably embedded within her.
And also...
“Miss Lancia?”
At the voice calling her, Lancia quietly broke from her thoughts and lifted her head.
Across from her, Archbishop Onni sat and was quietly watching her.
“You seem very tired. Have you not been able to rest properly?”
“……”
Lancia didn’t answer.
Instead, as if to gather her mind, she slowly turned her gaze and looked around.
Archbishop Onni’s office was modest in every way.
Whether it was his title as archbishop or his position as a professor of the Academy, the space matched neither.
There wasn’t a single ornate decoration or expensive piece of furniture.
Just a neatly arranged desk, a few chairs, and so bookshelves.
Only the cross of the Holy Sun Church hanging on the wall emitted an antique glow, silently illuminating them.
“How is your wound?”
“It’s fine.”
“Don’t overexert yourself. If you wish, I could exclude you from this mission.”
“It’s fine.”
“Then would you care for a cup of tea? It’s good for relieving fatigue and tension.”
“It’s fine.”
Faced with her string of cold, firm refusals, Onni gave a small shrug.
He silently stared at Lancia for a mont.
Officially, this was counseling ti with a dormitory student, but the air between them felt nothing like that.
Onni, a forr Inquisitor.
Lancia, a mber of the Executors.
Though they belonged to different departnts, they had worked together several tis before, and had long since beco familiar with each other’s faces.
“……”
“……”
A faint, yet taut tension lingered between the two.
“…The reason you called .”
Lancia spoke first.
“May I ask what it is?”
“Hmm… I was curious about how you were adjusting to life at the Academy, so I thought we could have this ti to talk.”
Onni replied blandly.
It was an utterly mundane and formal remark.
“……”
Lancia stared at him in silence.
Her eyes said plainly: Enough with the nonsense. Just get to the point.
Onni gave a faint smile.
“…If I said that, you’d look extrely uncomfortable, so I’ll get to the point as you wish.”
He shook his head with a wry smile.
Still not soone I can joke with at all, he thought. Yet sohow, even if it’s all an act, she blends into this Academy rather well.
“I’ll get straight to it. I’m sure you’ve already heard, but because of the recent incident in the underground aqueduct, there’s been a lot of talk within the Church.”
“I’ve heard.”
Lancia replied.
At that, Onni’s voice dropped slightly.
“Yes, still, I’ll explain a bit more. I’m sure you’ve heard that the cultists of the Evil God ended up annihilating each other in an internal clash... Perhaps because of that, it seems the higher-ups are viewing this incident with grave seriousness.”
“……”
Onni paused briefly and observed Lancia’s reaction.
She remained still, silently staring at him.
“And so... perhaps as a formality, an official notice just ca down—two Cardinals will be personally visiting the Academy for the upcoming Departure Festival.”
He cautiously nad them.
“Cardinal Bruyant and Cardinal Bernard. Those two, apparently.”
“……”
At his words, Lancia’s shoulders flinched ever so slightly—but noticeably.
Onni pretended not to notice and continued.
“How troubleso. Things are about to beco even more exhausting than they already are.”
Cardinal Bruyant.
The man who secretly oversaw the Executors, known as the shadows and blades of the Holy Sun Church.
To Lancia, he was practically a direct superior.
And Cardinal Bernard—
On the other hand, he was the one who oversaw the Inquisitors.
In other words, he was Onni’s superior.
“……”
It was by no ans a light matter for the heads of both militant factions of the Holy Sun Church to visit.
Even so, Lancia remained silent.
Onni, who had been waiting for her to speak, finally opened his mouth again, as if raising a white flag.
“By any chance… do you have anything to say? Thoughts, perhaps?”
“Nothing.”
Lancia answered his question in the sa dry, hard tone.
“They say a soldier should never speak of politics.”
Lancia spoke quietly, almost like a whisper.
“Likewise, what we Executors require is obedience to orders—personal convictions or sentints are aningless.”
Her reply was textbook-perfect, a model answer for an Executor.
As if he had expected it, Onni nodded once or twice.
“I see.”
Cardinal Bruyant is still as formidable as ever when it cos to commanding people.
Muttering this, Onni gave a slight shrug.
“Well, I suppose it's ridiculous for
to bring this up with you, Miss Lancia. You and I both simply follow orders, after all.”
He tapped the empty teacup in front of him with his finger.
“To be honest, during the upcoming Departure Festival… well, even if attending the banquet with the distinguished guests is asking too much, I had hoped you might hold your place for a short while. As you know, it’s an important occasion for us as well—a ti for etings and interactions.”
Onni trailed off mid-sentence.
Because he had felt the sudden chill in Lancia’s presence, which just monts ago had been flat and indifferent.
It wasn’t a mistake—though it lasted only a mont, he had clearly seen sothing sharp and murderous flash through her eyes.
And Onni could easily guess why she reacted that way.
Demons.
Whether it was to flaunt the Empire’s dignity or for so other hidden agenda, a few Demons had been invited to the Departure Festival.
And not just invited—they were to attend as distinguished guests.
“……”
Onni knew all too well how deeply Lancia loathed Demons, just as much as she despised the cultists of the Evil God.
Given her past, it was only natural.
To her, Demons were beings whose re presence in the sa space was intolerable.
Let alone a mission to protect them.
…Well, of course she would react that way.
He hadn’t expected her to agree in the first place.
Onni quickly cleared his throat once or twice, as if to shift the subject.
“…But, of course, there are plenty of others who can take that role. The real reason I called you here is sothing else entirely.”
“What is it?”
He leaned forward slightly, gazing at Lancia.
His eyes, as devoid of emotion as hers, settled on her.
“Have you ever—”
Onni whispered quietly.
“…heard of sothing called a Brand?”
Again.
Lian murmured the word without thinking.
The sight before his eyes made him realize it instinctively.
That where he was now… wasn’t the real world.
This feeling… it's the sa as what I felt in the underground aqueduct back then.
His whole body felt vivid, and yet there was an unsettling sensation, like sothing was subtly off.
A hazy awareness, like in a dream.
How should he put it?
Yes, it felt like being suddenly thrown onto a well-staged theater set.
And Lian was honestly relieved to realize this wasn’t reality.
Yes—it had to not be real.
“……”
Because the street in front of his eyes was burning.
This is…
A familiar street.
Near the Academy’s shopping district, perhaps?
But the usual liveliness was nowhere to be seen.
The buildings lined along the street were half-destroyed, engulfed in crimson flas that belched black smoke into the sky.
From all around, faint noise echoed—whether screams of people or the sound of fire devouring everything, it was hard to tell.
The scorching heat pricked at his skin, and the acrid smoke stabbed at his nose and eyes.
“……”
If hell existed, would it look like this?
No—if he were being honest, hadn’t he seen similar sights in his previous life?
Lian stared blankly at the burning street.
It was then—
Thunk.
He felt sothing catch beneath his foot.
Slowly, Lian lowered his head.
And without realizing it, he stopped breathing.
“Ha.”
Soone lay at his feet.
A familiar figure.
A familiar outfit.
Familiar blue hair.
“……”
The mont he saw the fallen person’s face, a sigh—almost like a groan—escaped Lian’s lips.
“…Lancia.”
Lancia Jintia.
It was her.
She was lying at his feet, a cold corpse.
Even knowing it wasn’t real, Lian felt as if all the blood in his body had turned cold.
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