Chapter 819: The Knot (6)

“It’s over.”

The abyssal depths, where one could not fathom the water’s extreme pressure.

A dark, treacherous place where an ordinary human would be crushed and flattened by the water pressure.

A colossal underwater cave existing deep beneath the ocean.

In a dark, secluded sanctuary at its end, a young man with glasses calmly sat, sipping coffee.

“It seems Pandemonium’s war mercenary has made his move. If he acted, the Memorial Tower wouldn’t have kept its form.”

“…Croken Asylus directly intervened?”

An ominous telepathic message echoed from within the cave.

Simultaneously, slippery tentacles writhed before the young man, revealing complex emotions.

The young man chuckled, listening to his interlocutor’s response.

“Camlodal. Why pretend you don’t know? You were the one who accompanied Seina until the very end.”

“…”

“You knew that Seina was heading to Yorta to fulfill her role, didn’t you?”

The young man’s voice was utterly calm, but the emotion beneath its timbre was anything but benevolent. It was less pure curiosity and more a cynical certainty.

The Eighth Apostle Camlodal could not refute the young man’s words, which sounded like an interrogation, and fell silent.

The secret events that transpired in the swamp leading to Yorta.

And the fact that the young man before him knew Camlodal had tried to kill the Priestess to leave no room for doubt.

Camlodal knew all too well that he could do nothing about that fact.

The Cult’s Second Apostle, renowned as the most perfect among the currently existing Apostles, free from the madness that inevitably befalls Apostles, had personally sought out Camlodal.

The fact that he, who spread his influence throughout the entire Cult and handled major affairs for the Papal See on behalf of the Pontiff, had personally come to Camlodal, spoke volumes.

“The position of Priestess, who holds the office of High Priest, must always be prepared for replacement; no one is an exception.” The Second Apostle set down his coffee cup and said.

“Just as the previous Priestess Isel did, Seina also had to relinquish the Priestess’s position when the time came. However…”

The Second Apostle’s aura, as he gazed at the writhing tentacles in the darkness, suddenly turned sharp.

“That time was not now.”

“…”

“The seizure of the First Gate and the war with the Order Alliance. It goes without saying that the Priestess’s role is crucial in simultaneously handling the pacification of the Ascendant Jinwa. But Camlodal, can you truly say you bear no responsibility for Seina’s death?”

When Seina Naydree’s corpse was found in the swamp, Camlodal refused cooperation, citing his distrust of her because she was cursed by Jinwa, and tried to kill her.

But regardless of Camlodal warning Seina about Jinwa’s presence, there was clearly a part where he condoned the danger to her, even knowing her life could be at risk.

Did Camlodal truly believe Seina was corrupted by Jinwa’s Spell-Word, making her untrustworthy, and thus tried to kill her?

Upon hearing the circumstances, the Second Apostle immediately discerned Camlodal’s true intentions and came directly to his hidden sanctuary, where his main body resided, to interrogate him.

“…This is surprising.” Camlodal slowly began to speak.

“You may have cherished Isel Naydree, but you had little interest in the current Priestess. Yet, can you truly be angrier about her death than you were about Isel’s situation?”

“…”

“One could say you strictly separate public and private matters, but for Apostles like us, this is quite fascinating.” Camlodal said to the silent Second Apostle.

“To have lived as an Incarnation for so long, yet still be able to suppress such primal emotions—”

Crunch!!

At that moment, the tip of the tentacle, which had been flickering in the darkness, was crushed.

It was flattened and pulverized as if by an unseen, formless power, scattering its tattered fragments.

A chilling will-thought that utterly tore apart a massive tentacle limb on the spot.

“…!!”

“Camlodal.” The Second Apostle, his face expressionless, spoke to Camlodal, who was faintly twitching his tentacle.

“I am not unaware of your desire to escape the madness.”

“Hmm…”

“You worship a god, yet at the same time, you fear it. Imitating the Ascendants, endlessly fragmenting and dividing your consciousness, must be part of that.”

The Second Apostle slowly tilted his head towards Camlodal, who was writhing in pain.

“But your ambition must not take precedence over the Cult’s deepest desire. It is already wrong that I have to say this myself, but…”

The Second Apostle’s gaze pierced through the colossal cephalopod form writhing in the darkness as if to see through it.

“I would appreciate it if you would help me avoid repeating the foolish act of disposing of a fellow Apostle.”

“…Then tell me how.” Camlodal murmured to the Second Apostle, who was turning away from the half-empty coffee cup.

“How can I escape this terrible madness? How can I awaken from the dreams of the Outer Gods like you?”

“…”

“From the moment we accepted the fate of an Apostle, we could only choose how we would go mad and break. But I did not dedicate myself to the Cult for such an end.”

In the darkness, the Eighth Apostle’s red eyes glinted.

“Even if I am broken and shattered at the end of an eternal struggle, I cannot tolerate the disgrace of self-destruction alone…!!”

Camlodal’s will-thought flared wildly, as if ready to clash at any moment.

But the Second Apostle calmly let the Eighth Apostle’s fierce aura wash over him, then turned his gaze away.

“The Papal See has confirmed the next Priestess candidate. She will soon ascend to the Pantheon, receive its blessing, and formally inherit the authority of the High Priest.”

“…”

“It would be good if Seina’s remains could be recovered and interred at the main temple before then, but even if not, you will be contacted soon.”

The Eighth Apostle Camlodal uses the Apostle Spellcraft ‘Camlodal’s Doll’ to escape the madness that inevitably befalls Apostles, but apart from that, he is a being with a temperament quite different from other Apostles.

He follows the doctrine and serves the Pontiff, but his faith is far from blind fanaticism.

He possesses a strong self-awareness, is highly calculating, and has great intellect, yet as an independent entity, he is quite emotional.

His outward autocratic attitude is far removed from that of a devout believer.

Ignoring Seina Naydree’s request was also a highly self-righteous decision that did not follow the Papal See’s will, wasn’t it?

As an Apostle who follows the Pontiff, disregarding the Papal See, which acts on his behalf, is undoubtedly a grave sin that cannot be overlooked.

However, the Second Apostle, knowing this perfectly well and having directly interrogated him, did not actually try to punish him here.

Judgement among fellow Apostles is reserved only for when the madness has permeated to the bone, shattering them to the point where they can no longer recognize even the master they serve.

Moreover, it was because he knew that Camlodal’s temperament was also a necessary talent for the Cult.

Among Apostles driven mad by their love-hate for the Pontiff, and those still descending into madness, there needs to be someone to maintain balance, even if just like this.

Therefore, the Second Apostle interrogated and condemned Camlodal’s decision, yet did not try to purge him.

“Until the day the Great Cathedral reopens, we must operate under a single doctrine.”

“…”

“Even if, one day, our paths diverge according to the dreams of the gods we have chosen… we must stand together on the same battlefield until the very end.” The Second Apostle said quietly.

“For that is what He desires of us.”

“Well… I still don’t quite understand.” Camlodal murmured quietly.

“Unlike Him, we are far too unstable. Can we truly endure until the day He returns?”

In the darkness, the cephalopod’s eyes gleamed with a hint of sadness.

“Or perhaps, does He wish for all of us to break beyond control?”

“…”

“I cannot refuse, can I? But I am afraid, yet I wish to know.”

Sliiiip…

Casually regenerating the tentacle crushed by the Second Apostle’s power, Camlodal’s presence blurred.

“Whether He still remembers the grace He bestowed upon us…”

Now that his hidden sanctuary, where he concealed his main body, had been discovered, there was no longer any need to remain here.

Of course, the Second Apostle could locate Camlodal’s main body whenever he wished, but that was no reason not to change sanctuaries.

Camlodal’s form, which had been writhing in the darkness, slowly blurred and then completely vanished.

The Second Apostle silently watched the moment Camlodal disappeared until the very end, then turned and walked away.

Stepping out of the hidden sanctuary concealed within the undersea cave, the Second Apostle slowly raised his head.

As soon as he emerged beyond the boundary, immense water pressure bore down on the Apostle, but the Second Apostle, without hesitation from such pressure, began to descend into the heart of the deep sea.

Deep-sea fish and various magical beasts, swimming and glinting their eyes all around, frantically split left and right to avoid him, forming a colossal passage beneath the water.

Without even looking back at the magical beasts desperately fleeing around him, the Second Apostle murmured,

“I thought we had finally filled the vacancy of the Tenth Apostle, but now the Priestess is gone.”

The master of the Cult. The comprehender of all gods.

Everything within the Cult, except for the one who stands at the apex of Guido, must be replaced immediately at any time.

Even if it is the position of Priestess, who possesses the most outstanding talent for a High Priest, the Papal See has already prepared a candidate to replace her.

Nevertheless, it was practically impossible to perfectly replace Seina’s absence.

Seina Naydree was a talented individual who, through her own capabilities, inherited the Priestess’s position from Isel, a position usually passed down through death.

Throughout the Cult’s history, a Priestess with such talent is rare.

Moreover, Seina, with her relatively moderate temperament even within the Papal See, had mediated subtle conflicts between the Apostles and the Papal See multiple times.

No matter how talented the next Priestess is, it will be difficult to demand the same role from her as Seina had.

This was truly a fatal loss for the Cult, which had recently resumed its activities simultaneously across the entire continent.

Even more so for the Second Apostle, who had recently been deliberately reducing his influence within the Cult.

“Where did things go so wrong…?”

Yes, perhaps everything went wrong starting from the tragedy that occurred at the Far Eastern Branch.

From the moment the former Priestess Isel Naydree offered herself as a sacrifice to become an Apostle, leading both Amrita and herself to ruin.

And from the fact that a strong individual capable of single-handedly subjugating those two existed within the Eyes of Blue.

From that moment when he had to face Isel’s corpse, the one he personally cherished, lying at that person’s feet.

“…Evan Martinez.”

Where is that wizard now, the one who imitated Apostles, followed them, and ultimately subjugated them?

Since that day, the Second Apostle had been observing Evan’s movements, but contrary to the Eyes of Blue’s active operations, Evan did not appear throughout the changing seasons.

Whether it was because Evan Martinez himself had circumstances preventing him from moving.

Or if the identity of Evan itself was merely a mask created solely for the Eyes of Blue.

There are circumstances that make him even more suspicious, as a wizard possessing such talent and temperament simultaneously is rare.

Thinking thus, the Second Apostle drew power with all his might from the depths of the deep sea.

Boom!!

As magic swirled and rotated around the Apostle’s body, the seawater, compressed thousands of meters below the surface, rotated simultaneously, following his gesture.

An indigo current, swirling around the Second Apostle’s form, propelled his body upwards with immense speed.

Kwoooosh!!!

With every moment he surged towards the surface, fluctuating pressure bore down on the Second Apostle, and walls of steel appeared from all sides, blocking his path.

But the Second Apostle took no action against the water pressure and barrier interference blocking his path; he simply increased his speed and continued to ascend.

Crumble!!

Shatter!!

Red warning lights flickered from the depths of the sea, and from all directions, magic and will-thought not belonging to the Second Apostle raged wildly.

It was as if someone had just now recognized an intrusion and was frantically moving to devise countermeasures.

The Second Apostle, taking in the human emotions mixed with fear and confusion, tilted his head slightly.

Whoosh!!

The Apostle’s form, having rapidly approached the surface from thousands of meters below, sharply turned at a right angle, then surged forward, tearing through the water’s surface.

Water split violently on both sides, surging up like fountains, and a thunderous roar, like detonating bombs, echoed.

Kugugugu!!

“Stop, stop!!”

“Halt immediately!!”

Innumerable fleets blocking the Apostle’s path, and submarines belatedly catching up from beneath the surface, fired torpedoes simultaneously with their warnings.

But as the Apostle’s form pierced straight through the keels of the warships, the seawater exploded, and all those warnings and resistances evaporated into dust.

“Magic pattern untraceable. Confirmed as will-thought manifestation of extreme-tier or higher. Third Fleet 40% incapacitated!!”

“Contact the Supreme Council. We can’t stop—!!”

“No…!!”

Kwoooosh!!!

Simply by moving across the sea, he annihilated dozens of warships, hundreds of submarines, and thousands of superhumans.

The stench of blood and steel. The acrid smell and smoke of explosives. He engulfed the despairing will-thoughts as if sucking them in, and breached the sea zone.

The Apostle’s form, having wiped out the Third Fleet guarding the sea zone, instantly ascended onto land.

Swoosh!!

Fragments of warships washed ashore on the waves. Piles of corpses, horrifyingly torn apart.

Among them, the Second Apostle’s form, carried in by a wave of death, eerily distorted above the sea surface.

Reflected beyond his water-soaked glasses were mechanical barriers soaring sky-high, and artillery units of mechanized troops fiercely rotating all around.

The Second Apostle nodded, looking at the muzzles aimed at him from the coastline.

“I’ve come to the right place.”

The Second Apostle sought out Camlodal’s hidden sanctuary in the deep sea not merely to interrogate him about his responsibility.

It was because he knew that the sanctuary Camlodal had prepared to conceal his main body happened to be located beneath the sea zone of the city he was headed for.

Machina, the Machine City.

A city that had suffered greatly in the past due to the failure of the Ascension Gate, and recently experienced a major terrorist attack that half-destroyed the entire Meister District.

The Second Apostle had personally come to Machina, where the Supreme Council and underworld kingpins were working together to quell the chaos, by rising from beneath the sea zone where the Heart-Star Vault is located.

“If Pandemonium has turned Yorta upside down, then it is my role to restore balance.”

With a single gesture, the Second Apostle expelled all the water from his body, and as he raised his hand, the waves surging behind him dramatically swelled.

Instantly, the sea level rose, then, riding his will-thought, it swelled further and transformed into a colossal tsunami that engulfed the coastline.

Kugugugu…!!

“Gasp…!!”

The Second Apostle smiled, watching the soldiers of the mechanized troops stumbling backward with pale faces.

“The ‘Forced March’ that the Nether King attempted while traversing the continent… I’ll show you I can do even better than that.”

Whoosh!!

A street so quiet it made his ears ring.

Cold water lapped at his cheeks, faintly tapping his eyelids.

How long had he been unconscious, lying prostrate?

Beyond his body pushed past its limits, his transcendent mental power forcibly awakened his senses and pieced together his judgment.

Beyond Lennok’s vision, as he struggled to push open his eyelids, lay the damp, distorted landscape of the canal.

Thud!!

Before his eyes, a gigantic hammer fell, handle-first.

The hammer, wreathed in pitch-black, shriveled magic, pounded the ground it struck with vigorous force.

As he stared blankly at the hammer imbued with Dorye’s magic, a scale-covered hand grasped the hammer’s handle and lifted it.

Whoosh…!!

Croken’s form leisurely emerged from beyond the wreckage of the collapsed Memorial Tower.

Even after single-handedly smashing the heart of Yorta, there was not the slightest change in his demeanor.

“Your resilience has improved. You used to be knocked away with a single flick of the wrist.” Croken snickered, looking at the fallen Lennok.

“Or perhaps it’s not you who’s changed, but me.”

“…”

The crocodile giant, with the hammer resting on his shoulder, slowly tilted his head, staring calmly at the sky.

“It’ll take a while for the Monk to finish his adjustments. If you have anything to say, spit it out.”

Croken chuckled, gazing intently at Lennok with his bright yellow reptilian pupils.

“Speaking of which, the Director asked me to pass a message to you.”