Chapter 309: Chapter 49. The Story of Part 4, Existing in This Timeline

The late spring wind blows.

Near the stream in the lowlands, formed by the meltwater of Mount Eltio’s perennial ice. In the verdant fields, various wildflowers bloomed in clusters, showcasing their shapes and colors.

Among them, a single flower bloomed uniquely, not in a cluster, but alone.

It was a Deadly Bloom, appearing like a delicate and intricate silver ornament that would ring with a clear bell sound if touched. Silver petals and turquoise stamens swayed gently in the kind breeze.

It was a scene of a beautiful and peaceful world, like a watercolor landscape painting. One and a half years had passed since the Last Apocalypse War, Har-Magedon.

Thanks to the combined efforts of the four nations during that time, significant damage to the Serentra Continent was largely restored.

Each country rebuilt collapsed buildings and facilities and held funerals for the victims. People began to regain the peace of their daily lives and live their own lives.

Of course, the void left by cherished lost ones was not easily filled. Memorial stones were erected throughout the Serentra Continent to comfort the still-grieving families.

Obelisks, towering as if to reach the sky, would gather prayers lamenting the departed souls and offer them to the Voice-Spirit that Constructs the World, the principal deity of Serentra.

Meanwhile, around the time the continent-wide ‘Memorial Stone Construction Project’ concluded, another type of monument belatedly began to be erected.

Its location was the ruined Pontifical Palace. The names of two individuals who brought peace to this world and then vanished were engraved on the obelisk erected there.

Aillet Rodelain and Tesillid Argent.

The monument’s name was ‘Hero Memorial’.

“So, it’s finally built.”

“One and a half years, that’s a long wait, isn’t it?”

Rex Easter, dressed in an Incantation Cult Holy Knight uniform, and Cattleya Gillet, also in Incantation Cult Cardinal robes, conversed as they looked up at the tall obelisk.

Having converted to the Incantation Cult, they were now affiliated with Saint Agnes Church and dispatched on a diplomatic mission to the Elfenheim Holy Theocracy.

“I’m surprised the Order Religion ceded the land. After all the times they declared an execution order for heretics.”

“Their power and standing have weakened, so they had no choice. It’s not the Order Religion of old.”

Construction was underway around them.

The Pontifical Palace, which had once blossomed with magnificent sacred art, now laid a new foundation. It was to be redeveloped into administrative buildings and a plaza of reduced size.

Rebuilding the Pontifical Palace to its former scale was virtually impossible.

The Holy Theocracy’s public sentiment, which had entered a decline starting from Doomsday, saw its downturn accelerate with the Holy Saint’s execution order.

Furthermore, it was no exaggeration to say it plunged into rock bottom with Har-Magedon as the catalyst.

Muriel Philise, the 8th Divine Power Tier Saintess, had persecuted Hero Aillet Rodelain and issued an execution order, yet she went into hiding and was not seen after Har-Magedon occurred. It was a deeply disappointing course of action.

Was that all? Pope Benedict Deloard, the head of the Order Religion, was even worse.

It was revealed through survivors of ‘Abyssinis’s Massacre’ that she had actively aided evil. It was a shocking revelation.

Crucially, the divine power of priests who served Strict Order and Goodness began to rapidly wane.

Priests started converting to the Incantation Cult, and the populace lost trust in the Holy Theocracy, crossing its borders.

Anyone could see that the Order Religion had no future.

In such a situation, it was impossible to cover the enormous costs required for organizational restructuring and the reconstruction of the Pontifical Palace.

If things continued like this, the Elfenheim Holy Theocracy would slowly fragment and be absorbed into the borders of neighboring countries.

The name of the Order Religion itself would be fortunate if it merely lingered in remote areas.

“In truth, the Incantation Cult isn’t in a great situation either. Two major pillars have disappeared, and the Pope’s absence continues…”

“Yes…”

“Soon, we must persuade Cardinal Hilde and somehow make things happen. After all, the living are the ones who create the world.”

At Cattleya’s last words, Rex, who had been looking up at the Hero Memorial, made a choked expression.

The living.

Their antithesis was the dead.

Coincidentally, what Rex and Cattleya were now gazing upon was a massive memorial stone.

A memorial stone was inherently for the dead.

Tesillid Argent and Aillet Rodelain, who vanished to prevent Har-Magedon.

No matter how long they waited, the two did not return.

And now, the memorial built after a year and a half seemed to confirm their deaths.

It felt as if this peaceful world had become their monumental遗品.

“Even so,”

Rex clenched his fists and said.

“I believe they will return.”

“Lord Rex.”

“It’s none other than Her Grace the Holy Saint, isn’t it? She wouldn’t have left us so easily. She will surely return with Lord Tesillid. I believe that.”

This bronze-skinned knight’s trust was as sturdy as his honest character.

Cattleya gazed at him steadily with her single eye, which held the wisdom of ages.

A moment later, the normally stern elderly woman rarely smiled.

“That’s good to hear. In truth, I feel the same.”

“Your Eminence…”

“Don’t cry. Stop.”

“Yes, stop.”

They held onto hope. And that hope was not theirs alone. The capital of the Ragneif Magic Republic, Gehennid.

The City of Eternal Night for mages, which had suffered significant damage, was now fully restored and much more organized than before.

The Jet-black Magic Tower, having been restored and even expanded, boasted a much taller stature, looking down upon the city.

The destroyed city center was also filled with new buildings.

Among them, slightly removed from the downtown area, stood a two-story dessert cafe with a pink roof, reminiscent of a gingerbread house from a fairy tale.

The place, renowned as a date spot for couples, was exceptionally bright, fresh, and pretty.

However, this place held a secret. A considerably dark facility was hidden underground.

Shhhhrrk. Slash slash…

Someone was sharpening a blade, their yellow eyes gleaming.

“Good.”

Fliegel Knight, the Night Eagle Guild Master, looked proudly at the dessert knife, which held a keen edge.

The Night Eagle Guild, which had suffered greatly due to the false accusation of assassinating the Tower Master, was able to return to its original base and resume operations after the new Tower Master took office.

However, since their previous headquarters had been exposed to the world, they had no choice but to find a new nest.

The consensus was to camouflage it properly while they were at it, so the guild’s ground floor became a dessert shop.

But it unexpectedly did so well that the auxiliary profits became quite substantial.

Anyway, their main business was assassination. The middle-aged guild master was sharpening his knives as a pastime, waiting for clients today, when the door burst open, and a young man with sky-blue long hair and a leather choker around his neck appeared.

“Fliegel-kun! Fliegel-kun!”

“Please knock, Lord Moriphis.”

“Oh, you’ve taken off your mask! You’re truly handsome, Fliegel-kun.”

“Thank you. But I think it’s time you stopped adding ‘-kun’ as if calling a young friend. I’m over forty.”

“What’s wrong with forty! You’re still at a very cute age!”

Fliegel gave up on arguing. He wondered what he could expect from someone over two hundred years old.

“…Never mind. More importantly, what brings the Tower Master here? Surely not an assassination request.”

Fliegel was confident in his last remark.

Moriphis Marcelion was more likely to be an assassination target than a client.

In fact, rumors circulated that some of the elder mages, overworked by his antics of causing trouble instead of working even after becoming Tower Master, were discreetly seeking the Night Eagle Guild’s location.

Moriphis, as if such circumstances were of no concern to him, shouted cheerfully.

“I rushed here to tell you about the amazing hypothesis I’ve formed, Fliegel-kun!”

“I suppose other mages didn’t listen to you.”

“They were all so impudently busy!”

“They weren’t pretending to be busy; they truly are busy. The mage population has drastically decreased due to Har-Magedon. With post-war recovery duties and being drafted into dungeon subjugation, their bodies must be worn out.”

The war with the Demon Realm had ended after the subjugation of the Three Demon Kings and the eternal sealing of the Chaos Evil God.

If so, the dungeons that served as bridgeheads for the war should have disappeared as well.

Indeed, in the timelines where Tesillid successfully saved the world alone, the dungeons had vanished.

However, this timeline, where Aillet Rodelain existed, was different.

The existing dungeons did not disappear; instead, they were permitted to exist by merging with the human world. That is, the dungeons were absorbed into the human world.

Because of this, bursts and sinks still occurred locally, and subjugation activities continued across the Serentra Continent.

The fortunate aspect was that the danger level of dungeons had generally decreased, with only B-rank and below remaining.

Furthermore, previous dungeon bursts used to start from S-rank due to the escalation effect, but that effect disappeared after the victory in Har-Magedon.

A B-rank dungeon causing a burst would simply remain a B-rank.

Thanks to this, dungeon bursts, which once instilled terror in people, began to be perceived as mere disasters rather than catastrophes.

On the other hand, the continued existence of dungeons meant that valuable resources produced there could also continue to be utilized.

And if all dungeons were subjugated and claimed, a day would come when disasters caused by dungeons would cease.

Globally, when considering the pros and cons, the benefits clearly far outweighed the losses.

This was an unprecedented phenomenon that occurred only in this timeline.

Most people had no way of knowing this anomaly, so they accepted it as the norm, but some were different.

Theologians pointed out errors in the phenomenon based on prophecies, and mages based on the laws and theories of the world. And one of them was Moriphis Marcelion.

“Is subjugation important right now? I’ve come up with an amazing hypothesis about the phenomenon of dungeon-human world fusion!”

“Oh, really?”

“Curious, aren’t you? You must be. Say you’re curious.”

“…I’m curious.”

“I knew it! Listen carefully. The fusion of dungeons clearly signifies a truce, not a ceasefire. The fight with the Demon Realm is not yet over!”

“Hmm.”

This was a statement that completely denied the hard-won peace.

Fliegel’s eyes narrowed, wondering if this madman was trying to mislead people with nonsense.

“Are you saying the Chaos Evil God will awaken again?”

“Not that!”

“Then are you saying a new Demon King will be born?”

“No, no! Good heavens, how frustrating!”

Moriphis looked at Fliegel with a gaze as if he were looking at a failing student, then said:

“There’s already a human who killed Inferinos and inherited the Demon King’s power, isn’t there! The existence of that human became the medium, allowing the Demon Realm to not perish but to parasitize the human world!”

“…”

This time, Fliegel immediately understood what Moriphis was trying to say.

The human who killed Inferinos and inherited the Demon King’s power.

That referred to none other than the Holy Saint, Aillet Rodelain.

“You mean…”

“That’s right! There’s a high possibility that the Pink Holy Saint is alive! Now I can take off this dog collar!”

While Moriphis rejoiced self-centeredly, Fliegel took a breath.

The Holy Saint was alive.

Just because he was the master of the Assassin Guild didn’t mean he lacked respect for the world’s hero.

On the contrary, as an Aura Master, he held a special reverence for her.

To Moriphis, who had unexpectedly shared such hopeful news, Fliegel said in a softer tone:

“If that’s true, I truly hope they return. Both the Holy Saint and the Holy Sword’s Master.”

“Huh? We don’t need the Holy Sword’s Master…”

Any further conversation would only diminish the emotion.

Fliegel began sharpening his knife again.

Privilege for Possessors