Chapter 81: Living Grimoire (1)

Why do gods obsess over temples?

Why do they insist on spending unnecessary money and labor to build temples?

It’s because temples are tied to faith. People believe in and follow idealized gods.

A god without a temple is seen as nothing more than a monster or a myth.

Over time, such a god’s presence fades, and eventually, they may be driven out of the pantheon entirely as their power weakens.

This is why gods desire grand and magnificent temples.

They dream of their glory shining brightly, passed down through generations, no matter how many centuries pass.

Of course, not all gods rely on the faith of living beings.

The Winter King, as an evil god, overcame this weakness by creating the Wendigos—immortal beings who serve only him.

However, not all gods can use such methods.

The Winter King, as an ancient evil god, existed from the beginning and could ignore the laws set by the Absolute God, the leader of the benevolent gods.

Moreover, he possessed terrifying power, enough to create new lifeforms on his own.

Yet, even the Winter King, who was nearly as powerful as the Absolute God, was defeated by a human.

Of course, gods are immortal beings, so defeat doesn’t mean annihilation.

The problem lies in the fact that the Winter King had used his power to wreak havoc on other benevolent gods.

Until now, he had managed to endure.

After all, he was the Winter King, a being with power close to that of the Absolute God.

But now, the Winter King could no longer even be called a god.

This left the other evil gods who had followed him in an awkward position.

Branded as accomplices, they were now being targeted and attacked by the benevolent gods.

This is why the false goddess was attempting to resurrect the Winter King, and the starting point was the temple.

She sought to gather false faith from the people to bring the Winter King back to life.

“…But something feels off. According to the information Prince Jaiha provided, they’ve been building this temple for at least a year. Does that mean they knew the Winter King would fall a year ago?”

If not, did they have some other purpose?

Wolfgang sensed something suspicious but couldn’t pinpoint what it was. For now, there was no way to know.

She had no choice but to confront the situation head-on.

The temple was surprisingly close to the palace. It wasn’t hidden at all—it stood there openly for all to see.

In fact, people were frequently seen coming to the temple for worship.

It seemed they were living, eating, and sleeping there—voluntarily, not by force.

‘Now, what should I do?’

Wolfgang landed safely on the temple’s roof and pulled out a cigarette, placing it in her mouth.

Part of her wanted to burn everything to the ground, but she had no desire to kill innocent people.

However, Wolfgang didn’t dwell on this for long.

Stealth and infiltration weren’t her style. She always preferred a direct approach, and this situation was no different.

If she had been cautious from the start, she wouldn’t have come to the kingdom to kill the saintess with her own hands.

Resolved, Wolfgang entered the temple.

Her method was rather crude: she smashed through the temple’s ceiling with a flaming fist, creating a hole to enter.

The sudden noise drew everyone’s attention.

“Th-that person…?!”

“It’s the demon the saintess warned us about!”

“So now you’re calling me a demon, huh?”

Well, it’s convenient to create a public enemy to maintain power.

Wolfgang had also united the Vendetta Corps and the Eastern Defense Force by creating the Winter King and the Wendigos as common enemies.

If they hadn’t united back then, they would have been defeated.

But being on the receiving end of such accusations didn’t feel great.

The only silver lining was that the people in the temple seemed genuinely afraid.

Without a word, Wolfgang ignited flames and set the temple’s walls on fire. Just that action alone was enough to make the people inside scream and flee in terror.

“Well, the objective is achieved.”

It felt dirty, but it worked.

At first, things went smoothly.

She didn’t even need to swing her flames—just holding them in her hand was enough to make people run.

But as time went on, fewer people fled.

Instead, they began arming themselves and attacking her.

The sudden change made Wolfgang suspect mind control or brainwashing, but she wasn’t fazed.

Wolfgang had initially tried to evacuate the people in the temple out of goodwill and hesitation.

She didn’t want to kill innocents, so she threatened them and drove them out.

But now, the situation was different.

“You’re the ones who ignored my goodwill.”

The flames she had been using as a threat quickly spread throughout the temple.

Those who had attacked her were reduced to ashes, leaving no trace behind.

But Wolfgang didn’t care.

Through her many experiences, she had learned one thing: there’s no grave without a story.

Those who attacked her likely had their own reasons for being here.

She knew this, and she knew this wasn’t a game world where time could be reversed.

That’s why Wolfgang never intended to kill people from the start.

But that was the extent of her mercy.

If someone drew a weapon on her, she wouldn’t hold back. Others’ circumstances mattered, but her own mattered more.

If she always prioritized others, how could she survive?

Wolfgang’s flames quickly consumed the temple, turning everyone inside to ash.

She had given them enough time to flee. If they chose to stay, they were no longer innocents—they were enemies.

Moreover, Wolfgang had noticed something unusual about the temple.

Her flames were powerful enough to burn through stone and mortar, yet the temple resisted being reduced to ashes.

She had experienced something similar before—in another temple.

[I sense familiar magic. That child is nearby.]

“Are you talking about the Living Grimoire?”

[Yes, that’s right. The child known as the ancestor of all magic towers.]

In the past, the concept of magic towers didn’t exist. To learn magic, one had to seek out a mage, pay a price, and become their apprentice. Even then, there were many frauds.

That’s when the Living Grimoire appeared.

He was said to know every spell in the world, and many sought to become his disciples.

Back then, it was customary for a mage to take only one direct apprentice, but the Living Grimoire broke that tradition.

He accepted all who came to him as disciples.

He didn’t just take them in name—he taught them magic sincerely.

Other mages disliked him, but he paid no mind to their criticism.

[A stagnant pond will eventually rot. That’s why I’m merely creating a path to connect this small pond to the vast ocean.]

He believed magic was for everyone and that only through sharing could it develop healthily.

He was driven more by curiosity than greed, always seeking to reach the ultimate truth.

[How did such a pure child end up like this?]

“It’s because he awakened to the truth, Milena.”

“…So you’ve been watching us after all.”

Wolfgang turned her head. Standing behind her was an old man with a white beard and hair, smiling.

She wasn’t surprised—after all, he was a mage.

To the uninitiated, magic seems like an all-powerful force.

But it’s also dangerous and complex. A single mistake in a spell can backfire, harming the caster or causing unintended consequences.

This is why mages usually rely on grimoires.

Even a slight error in incantation or ritual can cause the magic to turn against the user.

“Are you the Living Grimoire?”

“That’s what they call me.”

He had never failed a spell, knowing every incantation and ritual perfectly.

A genius who was revered as the Living Grimoire.