Let’s Have a Fight Between Broken Ones.

Celia remembered everything that happened that day.

At that time, she had engaged in an armed conflict with the imperial army as a consequence of beheading the crown prince who had tried to rape her.

If the siege had not been successful, she would have been executed in front of the people.

Yes, conversely, it could be said that the revolution succeeded because she had drawn the attention of the elite soldiers guarding the imperial palace, leaving the interior of the palace empty.

“Husband? Did you say it was your husband who took my head?”

“Yes, that’s right. You must remember who he is, don’t you?”

Yes, if the memories of that time still exist, she would surely remember.

That it was Ganian Astora, who was supposed to have sat on the imperial throne originally, who dealt with the leader at that time.

And that it was the man who had gone missing after being branded a heretic and driven to war for treating her, who had personally gone to execute the Pope who had been with him.

“Ah, I see. So you married that heretic?”

Yes, the memories still exist indeed.

But what was drawn on her lips was not displeasure, but a clearer smile than ever.

“That’s truly remarkable. You, who had won victories against all the strong men of the empire, saying you would marry someone stronger than yourself, to find true love and marry at the end… Now that I’ve been reincarnated after a long time, I’m seeing many surprising things.”

A demeanor that doesn’t seem to care about her own death.

Is it because she calmly accepted the final outcome that occurred at that time?

No, that’s not it.

This is what you would call ‘composure’.

Because she’s doing something so important now that her own death from back then doesn’t matter, and because she’s on the verge of achieving it.

“What do you mean by ‘reincarnation’?”

And that composure is probably.

Something she can have because she’s certain that the person in front of her can’t kill her.

In fact, even attacks meant merely as checks didn’t work at all.

“I’m giving you the answer to why I’m alive.”

Ergen spoke without hesitation about that reason.

“Those who still remain in this era have raised me in this time. Because their fervent prayers reached heaven, the Lord sent me back to this world.”

There is energy that can exert physical force in response to will.

Even in a world where there exists the power of miracles that responds to belief and restores the original state based on the records of the subject, these were words too absurd to accept.

“To bring forth a truly great being, worthy of ruling this land, a being even greater than Yeshua in the era we lived in!!!”

But even though he’s speaking at length, it’s not something completely incomprehensible.

Even just considering the followers I’ve encountered so far, they all had fanatical faith.

Creating ‘will’ by forging belief…

That concept certainly existed in this world.

“That’s not reincarnation, isn’t it more like cloning?”

“…Cloning?”

“Yes. If it’s not the person himself, but something born from the longing for that person…”

‘Halo.’

An idol created by worshipping a human as a god.

Followers longing for the glory of the old era brought forth a leader to guide the falling power after the revolution in this era.

Just as Lagrid worships Yeshua, and Cleas worships Asclepius.

“I see, cloning.”

In other words, the opponent is a clone of Ergen Bilstein who lost his life 30 years ago…

Not inheriting the existence itself, but merely a ‘powerful wish’ created by gathering fanatics that forged his existence.

“Indeed, that could be the case, but what difference does that make?”

Despite being confronted with this undeniable fact, the opponent remained adamant.

“…You.”

“It doesn’t matter if I’m not the individual Ergen Bilstein. I’m already aware of that myself.”

He has Ergen Bilstein’s memories. He pursues the same things as him.

But even that might in fact not be what he originally wanted to achieve, but merely the result of trying to fulfill others’ expectations.

It’s painful in itself to have self-awareness but no freedom.

If even one’s own beliefs are actually built on falsehoods, and furthermore if that’s what’s called faith…

“What’s important is that there are those who long for him even in this era.”

Yet he speaks.

“If he was an existence that should have disappeared from this world through death, that should have been the end. That person wouldn’t have been able to evoke enough longing to become an idol.”

The very fact that he has appeared.

Proves that what he wants to do is not wrong.

“But I exist. The fact that I, who shouldn’t exist, do exist has meaning in itself, and it means that there are many who consider the current era to be unjust. It’s because they think the current era is wrong that they want to return to the old era and correct those wrongs.”

A clear light felt from his grip.

Although it’s a Halo created by forging the faith of fanatics rather than humans, will still exists.

Because will exists, he can give substance to his existence through mana. At least to someone like her, everything he shows would be exactly the same as the human ‘Ergen Bilstein’.

“…And the means you chose to correct the wrongs is raising corpses?”

“Yes, just like when that great person tried to unify the continent in the past.”

-Sruuk.

At that moment, presences begin to be felt around.

No, not of living things.

Corpses buried in filth…

Merely memories originating from those fragments responding to necromancy, using the surrounding filth as bodies to raise them.

“Yes, the reason the world is so chaotic is because everyone has different ideologies and sense of justice. Because imperfect humans can’t help but be different from each other, they want to depend on a more perfect being. That’s how loyalty and faith work…”

Two red dots from them are aimed at her.

From one to two, to ten, now to dozens, hundreds…

Consistently to the point of reaching over a thousand units throughout the space.

“But if everyone has the same heart, no one needs to fight anymore. No one needs to suffer anymore. It doesn’t matter how much blood is shed or how much resistance there is in the process. The moment that person’s status is revealed to this world again, any enemy, any sinner, will all uniformly come under that person.”

The old man looking down at the past connection opposing him while overcoming that light.

Even though she knows he’s just a clone, his gaze feels incredibly familiar.

“And after that, it continues forever. A world where there’s no pain, no hatred towards each other, forever…”

Once feared beyond measure.

The profound gaze of the opponent that had only felt like intense hatred when last seen.

“…What nonsense.”

But now it just looked pathetic.

To the extent of wondering if this is what becomes of a stubborn old man who can’t compromise with the world when he obtains immense power and status.

“How annoying. To think I was swayed by such a senile old man.”

Tyranny beyond despotism.

Does such a narrow-minded thought of considering only oneself as the protagonist of this world distort even its followers like this?

If that madness is inherited and concentrated, does only such a filthy result remain?

At that moment when she took her hand off the handle in disgust.

Ergen, still looking down at her from the mountain of filth, asked with curiosity.

“Why are you putting away your sword? Didn’t you come to interfere with me?”

“Interfere? Not at all.”

Celia answered with a shrug to the question directed at her.

That attitude was by no means bravado or a trick.

She was sincere.

At least as long as the opponent doesn’t rush at her, she won’t have to draw her sword against them either.

At least ‘not right now’.

“Whatever reason you came here for, whatever you’re going to do afterwards, none of that was important to me in the first place.”

It’s not a lie.

Even curiosity is ultimately just within the realm of interest.

The opponent’s purpose, ideals, and what they want to do weren’t evoking any sense of crisis in her.

“So do whatever you want here. Enjoy as you please, and at the moment your attempt bears fruit…”

From the beginning, what she was aiming for was one thing.

“I’ll thoroughly smash it to show you just how meaningless and pathetic a dog’s errand it was.”

The moment the goals of those scheming here are realized, to crush what they call their maximum strength without any chance of recovery.

Whether it’s an unfair fight, a surprise attack, deception, or vile tricks.

Even in a war without rules, if there’s something to nitpick about, it’s human nature to have lingering attachments.

If it’s because of such lingering attachments that their insane ideology has continued to this later generation, then it’s just a matter of crushing it so thoroughly that not even a shred of such attachment remains.

Back then, her younger self had no choice but to hand over that role to her husband, but now…

Now, both her resolve and preparations are complete.

“…How arrogant.”

Ergen, who had been looking down at her intently, said in a low voice.

“No matter how much power you have, it’s still just human power in the end. How can you be so confident in defying a god?”

An emotion that could be called amusement rather than displeasure.

But there was a hint of kindness in it.

“But I forgive you. Just as the one everyone has worshipped did.”

As if treating even the individual before him, whom no one in this continent could match in force, as ‘merely a child’.

“Even after leaving paradise, despite the endless mistakes that followed, that person never abandoned those bearing original sin and their descendants, but kept watching over them.”

Yes, the person before him is nothing more than an extremely weak and shoddy existence to him.

What she calls a ‘perfect state’.

For him, it’s bringing the being he worships into this era.

“So do not be afraid.”

Just as those who wanted to resurrect that person brought him to this era.

Even if that being has now disappeared, he should at least be able to affirm everything he has achieved in this era.

“What is about to unfold is merely a trial to repent for mistakes… If you do not resist and accept everything, salvation will exist there.”

-Kiyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!

At that moment, horrific screams begin to be heard from all around.

It’s the undead awakened in the surroundings screaming.

But it was too hideous a noise to have come from human vocal cords.

-Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaak!!!!!!

Is it because their bodies are made of filth?

Is it because even what could be called sound is forcibly created by tearing apart the physical force exerted by mana led by will?

But Celia was feeling at this moment.

That there was a certain flow to the screams being heard now.

‘A prayer, is it.’

Yes, it’s just painful to hear.

The screams let out by thousands of spirits existing here were clearly what could be called a ‘hymn’.

In a world where prayer has power, it is in itself a means of expressing faith. The power derived from it was affecting this space even at this moment.

‘Evoking the emotion of faith from undead, not believers with faith.’

It doesn’t have to be intact corpses.

Just as the gatekeeper played the role of guarding the entrance with just the memory of his father ‘protecting’.

If you read just the records left in the decayed remains in this underground sedimentary area, and strongly amplify and embody just the emotion of ‘belief’ from those records.

-Kyaoaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!

To emotions that are merely fanatical.

Just having the memory of believing in something would be enough.

If you overlay that on the undead embodied by replicating it, their prayers will have power in themselves and perform the role of a single believer.

“Now, all preparations are complete!!”

Finally, when the lamentations of such spirits exceed thousands to tens of thousands…

At the moment when rituals far surpassing that number make the underground waterway tremble by chanting prayer texts in unison.

Ergen, receiving their fervent devotion, shouted with both arms spread out on top of the mountain of filth.

“Oh great ancient being!! Please eat all that makes me up, our faith, and reveal yourself here while drinking the blood existing in this land!!!”

-Kuruung.

The hill that opened with the rumbling of the earth.

What could be called a mouth in itself swallows his body and slowly, slowly begins to rise upwards.

A monstrous creature that grows in size by absorbing all the believers around it and the filth overlaid on its body.

As its scale reaches even the ceiling of this space spread out in the deep underground, and grows in size with the momentum to destroy it, a sardonic smile appears on Celia’s lips.

“…Is this your appearance after becoming a god?”

‘Nero Astora.’

The one who created the start of a war that lasted half a century, and a tyrant who once again revealed his existence in this world while concentrating all the world’s ugliness.

And the ideal of those who want to reclaim the glory of the old era.

“It’s a form that suits you perfectly.”

Stubborn and beyond salvation.

And to symbolize an arrogant bug who thinks he’s the greatest in this world, what better form than a giant made of filth?

“Still, it’s not right for someone your age to show off your strength against kids, is it?”

As the form of that being finally takes complete shape, Celia firmly grasped the handle of the sword she had put away.

And declares.

“Let’s have a fight between broken ones.”

At this moment, in this place.

That she, a mere human, will cut down a being called a god.