Chapter 273

The world’s malice and hatred, which had been directed at me, now turned towards her. The rules that had bound him fell away. His gaze and tone became unruly. He asked. “What is your basis?” He didn’t even expect proof. Could they truly offer any basis? “Because she underwent Demonization? Just for a brief deviation?” “……” “She saved the world. Furthermore, her becoming a Demon King was a sacrifice she bore as a price for cutting off Inferinos’s breath. Yet now, despite owing her your lives…….” “……” “Are you using that sacrifice as an excuse to brand her a heretic?”

The more he continued his defense, the angrier he became. Tesillid felt a surge of rage, a feeling he had thought had been extinguished within him. When he had endured it himself, it had crumbled and scattered like white ash, but now it seemed to become a spark, then a flame, burning fiercely.

But then. “No.” “……” “The reason is not as the Holy Sword’s Master stated. There is clear evidence of the heretic.” “……!”

Evidence. Words Tesillid hadn’t expected. Muriel, who uttered them, was brimming with confidence. Even the cardinals were nodding, as if this gathering was truly legitimate and justified. “Evidence?” “Yes. The Holy Sword’s Master must have seen it too.”

At this point, even a regressor living their 117th life couldn’t help but feel confused. Was this talk of heresy not just a cunning fabrication after all? The accusation, which he had considered a mere facade, suddenly gained weight. Was there really evidence? Evidence that Aillet was a heretic. If so… “……”

Tesillid took a deep breath. His greatly expanded chest showed no sign of deflating. In that state, he waited for Muriel’s words. Tesillid’s appearance, desperately asking with his eyes what he couldn’t bring himself to ask aloud, pleased Muriel. The merciful woman decided to bestow an explanation to enlighten his ignorance. “We all saw the Gate of the Pantheon on the Litniel Plain, did we not? Then, Holy Sword’s Master, do you perhaps know the name of that gate?” “……” “It is the ‘Gate of the Pantheon’.”

Tesillid’s eyes widened. Something Aillet hadn’t particularly noticed. But for those who lived in a ‘monotheistic’ worldview, the sense of incongruity would be immediately apparent. Muriel pinpointed it precisely. “The divinity felt within the gate was not uniform. It meant that the powers of multiple gods were combined.” “……” “All gods, you say.” “……” “Is it not clear heresy to acknowledge gods other than ‘Strict Order and Goodness’? Therefore—” “……” “Aillet Rodelain is a heretic.” “……!”

The moment the verdict was pronounced, Tesillid’s inflated chest deflated. The breathless handsome man stood motionless like a statue. It was as if time had stopped. No emotion or thought could be read from the expressionless Tesillid Argent. A peculiar tension seemed to weigh down the air around him. The cardinals didn’t notice that they were breathing cautiously.

Then, at some point. “Ah…” A low voice, whether a sigh or an exclamation, finally released the stagnant air. He slowly ran a hand over his face, stopping midway. Everyone thought the handsome man’s expression, hidden by his hand, would be tinged with despair. And so it was, after Doomsday, it became a well-known fact to the whole world that he had a deep relationship with the Holy Saint—no, with the heretic who had been the Holy Saint.

The final judgment hall, where hundreds of citizens of the Holy Theocracy were dragged in. There, her desperate cry, echoing when the Holy Sword’s Master was about to sacrifice herself, was tantamount to an announcement of their relationship. The Litniel Plain, where hundreds watched the disaster. It was none other than the Holy Sword’s Master’s kiss that restored her corrupted mind there. Furthermore, what was the Holy Sword’s Master’s reaction when she entered the Gate of the Pantheon? The perfect Holy Knight, who usually showed no trace of disarray, was nowhere to be seen. Tesillid Argent, at that moment, had pounded the wall and wailed in agony, as if he had lost everything. Anyone with eyes and ears couldn’t help but know. To him, she must be an extremely precious lover. And that preciousness must be, at the very least, above his own life.

Traditionally, a faithful follower beloved by ‘Strict Order and Goodness’ is bound to face holy trials. And among them, the most common trial is determining the priority of what is precious. Indeed, his god did not forget to reveal sadistic love towards him, through Muriel’s mouth. “Sir Tesillid Argent, you have another title besides the Holy Sword’s Master, do you not?” “……” “In the name of God, I command you. As an Inquisitor of Heresy, personally execute Aillet Rodelain.” “……!”

‘Strict Order and Goodness’ demanded that he prove his faith by killing the one he held dearer than his own life. In the suffocating air, countless gazes fixed upon him. Some pitied his unfortunate predicament, others expressed punitive sadism, claiming it was the price for falling into the heretic’s temptation, and still others held a fanatical, masochistic envy at the sight of his faith being publicly tested. Everyone watched Tesillid with their own unique sentiments. In reality, it was no different from the gaze watching a clown show from high up in the heavens. If Muriel served as God’s mouth, the Cardinal Council seemed to serve as God’s eyes. “……”

Under the gaze of the repulsive onlookers, the most beautiful clown in the world slowly removed the hand that covered his face. His face was expressionless, like a plaster mask. However, his two eyes trembled helplessly with an undeniable tremor. Muriel pressed down on his shoulder with a solemn and earnest tone. “Condemn the heretic and prove your faith.” “……” “Only you can do this.” It was true. ‘May you perish together with the heretical Holy Saint in this life. Then this world will avoid destruction.’

Now it was his turn to answer. As if he had steeled himself, a deep voice soon reverberated through the air. “When should it be carried out?” It was no different from an intention to obey the command. Everyone thought, “As expected of the faithful and noble Holy Sword’s Master.” Muriel, as if she had expected it, replied with satisfaction. “Noon three days from now. Go to Peronsa.”✠“…Grandmother told me that’s what was decided yesterday. A day has passed, so it will be in the morning two days from now.”

Bianca’s calm explanation made my head ring and my stomach churn. So the Gate of the Pantheon skill was a hidden danger. Unable to bear the throbbing, I pressed my hand to my forehead, and Bianca tried to lay me back down. I waved away her considerate hand and took a deep breath. Everyone in the room focused on me. I met their gazes, one by one, their eyes seeking clarification or explanation. Grandfather, Mother, Father, Hilde, Ash, Edgar, and the servants of the Duke’s Castle… Hmm, they’re all Incantation Cult members. “Child.” My grandfather’s call, echoing in my ears, was heavier than usual. His eyes seemed to say: It’s okay. That he would be on my side no matter what. The will to be an absolute pillar of support was conveyed through his gaze. Like a lie, the overwhelming feeling of helplessness that had filled me was replaced by a sense of relief. Yes, it’s just that what was bound to come has finally arrived. I steeled my resolve and opened my mouth confidently. “Everyone, I am the Holy Saint. A Saintess chosen by God, capable of using Divine Descent.” “……” “I don’t particularly intend to reject other religions. But if we’re to strictly define heresy, wouldn’t the ‘Strict Order and Goodness’ denomination be considered the heretics?” “……!”

Gasps of shock echoed simultaneously in a chorus. They would need time to process the shock. I watched their reactions, feeling secretly nervous. “Th-then truly…” “The god Your Grace preached was not ‘Strict Order and Goodness’……” “It was a d-different god.” “So that’s how it was…”

In fact, I was a little surprised. Because their reaction was calm, considering I had confessed to being a heretic. Honestly, I expected at least one or two of them to shout “heretic!” at me and cast condemning glances, but there was nothing of the sort. On the contrary, some people were even nodding as if they understood something. “Ah, no wonder.” “Every time I heard the name of the god ‘Strict Order and Goodness’, I felt a discomfort.” “There was a reason for everything.” “Mm-hmm!” Grandfather expressed strong agreement with the words that Ash, Aide Edgar, and Bianca had collectively concluded. There was even a confession of conscience. “I… had a vague feeling about it… When I prayed and called out ‘Strict Order and Goodness,’ it felt like it was blocked…” <Wow, Hilde. As expected of the Vice-Archbishop.>

Overall, it was an unexpected atmosphere. I blinked and then asked. “Uh, excuse me, is this all?” “What do you mean, Your Grace?” Aide Edgar’s gentle gaze, as usual, made me feel strange. “Your reactions.” “Do you wish for a different reaction?” “Not that… Uh, hmm, oh! If you’re hesitant because of me, it’s fine. Those who wish to leave the faith can do so comfortably…” “Why would we leave the faith?!” The servants, who had regained their composure, burst out. “As you said, Your Grace is the Holy Saint, Your Grace!” “That’s right! Isn’t Your Grace the more certain proof of God?!” “We are the true faith, and they are the heretics!” Their loud cries conveyed their sincerity. After a moment of blankness, I cautiously decided to go along with the mood. “…Right? While I’m at it, ‘Strict Order and Goodness’ abandoned this world a long time ago. We should believe in a god that exists, not one that doesn’t.” “Yes! We believe!”[‘Voice-Spirit that Constructs the World’ is greatly moved.] Privilege for Possessors