Chapter 272
[The ‘Eye that Oversees All Chaos’ is absolutely delighted by your hug with Bianca.]
[The ‘Eye that Oversees All Chaos’ is touched, saying that with the obstacle gone, Bianca is rightfully claiming her place as the heroine.] As soon as I heard the Eye’s words, a question popped into my mind. I asked Bianca.
“Oh, right. Where’s Terry?”
“……”
“Now that you mention it, Iphail and Hestio aren’t here either. I wonder what they’re doing, not rushing over when their commander has woken up.”
Was the last thing I added a failed joke?
The quality of the air in the room changed. Heavy, cold.
What is it?
Why are they acting like this?
‘Voice-Spirit, why is everyone like this?’ [The ‘Voice-Spirit that Constructs the World’ remains silent with a serious expression.] At this point, my ignorance of the situation began to feel frightening.
I sent an earnest look to Bianca, hoping for an explanation. As expected, my friend did not abandon our friendship.
“Sir Iphail and Priest Hestio are currently isolated.”
“……”
“And Sir Tesillid is…… waiting at the Pontifical Palace. He’ll be there until he receives deployment orders.”
“……”
The kind explanation only added to my confusion.
My knight order comrades are isolated?
And Tesillid, who went to the Pontifical Palace yesterday, still hasn’t returned?
What’s this about deployment orders?
After a long moment, I could finally utter a question that encompassed everything.
“Has something…… happened?”
Bianca took a deep breath. It seemed as if she was taking the deep breath I should have taken.
“Aillet, don’t be shocked, but listen.”
It was the moment Bianca opened her mouth. [
The quest appeared before my eyes. [
The time has finally come.
The time to bravely and proudly declare the Incantation Cult against the Order Religion!
As the cult master, widely proclaim the divine name of the ‘Voice-Spirit that Constructs the World’. Let the ‘Voice-Spirit that Constructs the World’ officially assume its post in this world.
Achievement Condition: Proclaim to 1,000 or more people that your god is the ‘Voice-Spirit that Constructs the World’ (0/1,000)
Success Reward: Your world transitions from ‘God-Abandoned World’ to ‘God-Present World’
Failure Penalty: World Annihilation] Bianca spoke.
“They’ve declared you a heretic and issued a kill order.”
“……”
My entire body turned cold. But it wasn’t over yet.
“The Inquisitor chosen for the dispatch is Sir Tesillid Argent.”
Chapter 43: The Inquisitor
33 hours before then.
“I’ll be back, Aillet.”
The darkest hour before dawn. Tesillid kissed the forehead of the sleeping Aillet and left the room.
After repeatedly asking the maids to look after her, he returned to his room prepared in the Duke’s Castle and straightened his attire.
The unrealistically handsome man in the mirror was now impeccably dressed in his Holy Knight uniform.
After gazing at his emotionless reflection for a moment, he promptly crushed a Spatial Teleportation Stone. A brilliant light enveloped his vision.
The winds of space and time carried his body to a beautiful white triumphal arch.
A replica of the Gate of the Pantheon that had swallowed his Aillet Rodelain and, surprisingly, returned her.
‘Was that god truly Strict Order and Goodness?’
Doubts he hadn’t fully shaken off once again filled his mind.
After briefly looking up at the triumphal arch, Tesillid shook off his thoughts and lowered his gaze.
“Gasp!”
“S-Sword Master of the Holy Sword……!”
He met the eyes of two Holy Knights on guard. Somehow startled, they cleared the path before Tesillid even came within five steps.
Thanks to this, Tesillid was able to enter the Pontifical Palace without exchanging a single word with them.
He was about to step into the main building, crossing the restored courtyard, when Holy Knights swarmed out from both sides, surrounding Tesillid.
‘What a luxurious welcome this is.’
Just then, a blond man who seemed to be their captain stepped forward before Tesillid.
“Are you Sir Tesillid, Master of the Holy Sword?”
“Yes.”
“I am Magram Werrix, Servant of God. I am from the Holy Sword Inquisitorial Bureau.”
“Pleased to meet you, Sir Magram.”
“Well, you shouldn’t be pleased to meet me.”
“……”
Hostility was evident in his meaningful words. The next moment, Magram raised his chin and his gaze became insolent.
“Tesillid Argent.”
“……”
“By the command of Saintess Muriel Philise, I arrest you on charges of heresy.”
Tesillid was not particularly surprised.
“……Heresy, you say.”
Suddenly, he recalled what he had done before the Gate of the Pantheon that swallowed Aillet.
At that time, he had unleashed an unruly roar towards ‘Strict Order and Goodness’.
‘I recall saying, ‘Damn god.’’”
It was clear blasphemy, even to himself looking back. With hundreds of witnesses, there was no room to deny the act. But.
‘Blasphemy and heresy should be different.’
Even with the extremely inflated charge, he showed no signs of panic or agitation.
He was a regressor who had lived for a long time and experienced all sorts of things; the current situation was not new to him.
So he thought.
‘It’s the same as the 88th regression. That means……’
It seemed Muriel Philise had made up her mind to kill him quickly.
His eyes froze as cold as the Arctic Sea.
‘What should I do?’
Naturally, he had no intention of dying. He also had enough power to resolve the situation.
“Sir Tesillid Argent……?”
“……”
“Ahem, cooperating willingly would prevent any awkwardness between us……”
Even if the Holy Knights who were now stealthily observing him formed not just a knight order, but a legion, and surrounded him, it would pose no problem for him whatsoever.
Nevertheless.
The reason he hesitated was entirely because of Aillet Rodelain.
He was currently being held hostage by the god for her.
There was a fear that if he didn’t play along with the charade his god desired, she might never wake up.
He wanted to get back not only her body but also her soul. He wanted to see her verdant eyes again and hear her clear, resonant voice.
To do that, he would have to appease the god.
“……I will comply.”
Tesillid, as if throwing himself away again, extended both his wrists.
The place he was dragged to in chains was the dungeon of the Holy Sword Inquisitorial Bureau. It was also the place where the Glorious Knight Order, who had previously sold Tesillid for a single gold coin each, had been taken.
Tesillid was thrown into a dark, damp corner of the dungeon. The solitary confinement cell, specially built to block the Three Great Powers, was sealed on all six sides.
The only means of obtaining information about the environment were hearing and smell.
Screams and moans pierced his ears, seemingly from ongoing torture disguised as interrogation, and an unpleasant odor stung his nose.
An ordinary person would go insane just existing in such a space.
However, like one who had lived many lives, he was immune to violent stimuli.
With eyes devoid of light and a face drained of expression, he merely waited for his turn.
Time died in his dulled senses.
Before long, the sun sank below the horizon. Only after night fell upon the Sanctuary did the door to his cell open.
“Follow me.”
He thought he would be dragged to some musty, damp place with a strong smell of blood.
However, the place he was escorted to was different from his expectation.
The destination was the main building of the Pontifical Palace, the Cardinal Council Chamber.
Cardinals, with long crimson stoles draped over their shoulders, filled the seats densely. It seemed everyone had been waiting for Tesillid alone.
Tesillid stood solemnly in the center of that hallowed place.
“The Saintess enters.”
The moment Muriel, lifting her long ceremonial robes, floated in, the council chamber door closed.
They say the protagonist always appears last. She stood rigidly, looking down at Tesillid, as if she were the representative of this assembly.
He too raised his indifferent eyes. Muriel Philise and Tesillid Argent.
The two beings, one favored and one abused by ‘Strict Order and Goodness’ respectively, held each other’s gaze from a distance of five or six paces.
Tesillid thought to himself.
‘It seems they intend to hold an immediate trial here.’
Defense wouldn’t work anyway. The heresy charge was merely a pretext Muriel had concocted to kill him and maintain the regressed world.
He expected to be sentenced to burning at the stake, just like in the 88th regression. However, his prediction was wrong.
“Rejoice, Sir Tesillid. The investigation has cleared you of the heresy charges against you.”
“……”
All his senses rang alarm bells.
In his long experience, optimistic beginnings always led to greater negative conclusions.
Indeed, Muriel had skillfully exploited Tesillid’s weakness.
“However, the Holy Saint has been identified as a sinister heretic. Therefore, our Elfenheim Cardinal Council has decided……”
“……”
“Unanimously to excommunicate the Holy Saint, no, the ‘heretic’ Aillet Rodelain!”
“……”
The declaration shook the council chamber.
While the unnecessarily resonant echoes faded, Tesillid’s gaze froze solid.
Beneath eyelashes white as if frosted, chilling aqua eyes stared into thin air.
Now, his entire body emanated a chilling aura, as if even his breath would exhale the air of the Arctic Sea.
“Heretic.”
“……”
“A heretic, you say.”
“……”
“Aillet Rodelain?”