Ch.100Podium (2)

As dawn broke, the church became bustling with activity.

Preparations began to bloom a new faith in the world. Priests who had started learning doctrine from the fallen angel gathered in front of the cathedral, dressed in their clerical garments. A black wave rippled.

“Mother, who was pushed aside by the god who deceived the world.”

“Your child has finally come to you.”

The white-haired fallen angel Yursael conducted a solemn ceremony.

He reached out toward Difrine’s wrist, peacefully resting in the sacred reliquary placed before thousands of believers.

A trembling filled with anticipation. For an angel welcoming the object of faith, this was the greatest joy and happiness in life.

Tears flowing down his cheeks revealed his reverence.

“I shall take away all the pain you have carried.”

Death surged. The energy spreading from the severed wrist diffused into the cloudy sky. The tall pillar that rose touched the floor of heaven, announcing that dormant memories had awakened again.

“May you find peace.”

He declared that he would take away all the sorrow she once shouldered. As duty accompanied sacrifice, pain was a companion on the thorny path toward the future. That was what death was.

“We will move forward for that day. Your child will never give up.”

A single shadow stepped forward from the black death. Durin, the Regent of the Demon Realm, stood proudly among the bowing creatures. The divine power surrounding him added to his sanctity.

Unlike the previous church that only cried for revenge, it had changed. It was no longer a fragile organization that could be swayed by a single saint.

The memories of that era, which had endured for nearly a thousand years, were resurrected. Strength gathered in his tightly clenched fist.

Durin was the vanguard. The one who would gather the Mother’s flesh pieces and correct the false scripture.

“Worship death. The misaligned immortality claimed by heaven is a false sweetness.”

“Then what should we look toward?”

“Rest. Peace in stillness. Death is liberation.”

Durin waved his hand. The black death left his hand and formed a single shape.

Saaaa—

The swirling energy became a soul. The face with eyes peacefully closed was tranquility itself. The priests stared at that face, entranced.

In this chaotic world.

In this era where rest had become a ridiculous joke, they instinctively craved peace. From children to the elderly, one by one, they knelt. They showed their sincere hearts.

“Please save us.”

They were tired of war.

They didn’t want to have a severe faith.

They needed somewhere to believe and rely on.

Death. Reverence dwells within the unknown fear.

They dreamed of the peace of the soul that would exist beyond a life writhing in pain.

“My goddess.”

“Receive our prayers.”

Trembling hands reached toward the ground. They kissed the earth, communing with the goddess who would be somewhere in the world, not in heaven.

“Mother.”

Durin murmured softly.

A word he had never uttered in his life. The emotion he had thoroughly excluded from starting as a low-level demon to reaching the center of the Demon King’s castle settled warmly inside him.

He still had his fist clenched. The flowing death enveloped Durin. From the center of the vortex, it embraced the regent.

The scene was just like a rapturous scene from scripture where a god cherishes their child. The believers lowered themselves even more.

“We want your love.”

“Please, to us as well…”

The lost Creator’s creatures cry out.

The beginning of faith. It always blossoms from desperation, apart from greatness and divinity.

Thus, the Dark Church was reborn into the world.

Longing for the embrace of pure death, beyond revenge against heaven and despair about life.

#

“You certainly have the talent of a ruler. You’ve taken control of the church with just one ceremony.”

Upon returning to the office, Ludmila applauded. Satisfaction accompanied it.

“If work progresses smoothly like this, we can easily obtain spiritual power from the human realm.”

“This is just the first step. The humans of the church were able to replace their object of salvation because they had records of the previous era and hostility toward heaven.”

Despite being worshipped, Durin was not optimistic.

“But other humans won’t accept it. Demons are objects of fear, not worship.”

“Despite heaven’s tyranny, they can’t erase the imprint of scripture engraved over the past thousand years.”

“We need to change perceptions. We must act just as we spread to the Dark Church that peace comes to those who believe and follow the goddess.”

“If that happens, fear of death will diminish, and conversely, our demonic power might weaken. It’s good to always keep that possibility in mind.”

“We’ll need mechanisms for that as well.”

Humans couldn’t be ruled simply by liberation and peace. Faith was a power created not only by the grace given by god but also by fear of punishment. The Dark Church also needed to establish rules that would lead to divine anger and instill new fear in humans through them.

“Demons will take that role.”

“Fallen angels will be the path to the goddess, and you…”

“The executor. The hammer that falls on those who commit wrongdoing.”

“You can appropriately redirect and use the revenge the church has been utilizing all this time.”

Ludmila nodded. Make them move forward using anger toward heaven as a driving force, while preventing them from sitting down in despair through the rest that death provides.

Angels for devotion.

Demons for fighting spirit.

Then, for humans, they needed to instill desperation. Free individuals who could thrust a sword toward approaching enemies with their own will, not just beings who follow and believe.

This would be the greatest dagger to angels who thought of the human realm only as a field for faith.

When the horse that doesn’t move as intended tries to bite the nape, they will see the gloomy war situation they’ve been ignoring.

“So that’s how you want to complete your revenge.”

“It’s still a hope. Heaven isn’t a foolish force that will just sit idly by.”

The power that suppressed demons. The might of the supreme god that had pushed them back for a thousand years couldn’t be taken lightly.

Because heaven used devotion and righteousness as its main weapons, even in the dark ages, there were those who tried to light a lamp through sacrifice.

“They will certainly take measures.”

A huge wave is coming.

It will be on a scale that makes past wars seem trivial. Now it was a power struggle for the world, not a desperate defense.

Even if the demon realm was still lacking, its status was such. Fate wouldn’t wait for them. Perhaps it secretly desired the end, trampling on the barely blooming hope.

“So, Ludmila. I entrust the church to you.”

But Durin wouldn’t avoid it.

All the years he had lived had been like that.

“I will shoulder the duty.”

He revealed a blade forged with the will to protect.

#

The age of light has set.

The vanished hero.

The lost crusaders.

The blooming flower of great chaos.

The faith that craved God’s love has disappeared. Survival took precedence before right and wrong. Even the papal territory couldn’t escape.

Heretics who emerged gnawing at the accumulated sins of long years started wars everywhere. Death begot death. Hope was nowhere to be found.

Die following God.

Die rebelling against God.

An era had arrived where one must lose the life that the God of Light so loved. The damage caused by heaven’s lukewarm response spilled blood.

“I will bear all the pain. I will no longer stand by.”

Rupiel, the Celestial Secretary. An angel clad in God’s holy armor descended to the human realm. He couldn’t watch the abandoned creatures while the archangels were obsessed with power struggles.

The authority and duty that heaven had earned long ago through bloody battles with demons.

He inherited the will to protect. While those damned pigs treated divine power like feed, the secretary revered it nobly.

He didn’t avoid duty. If no one would step forward, he was willing to stand at the vanguard.

“Great Archangel.”

“Please save us.”

The clergy bowed their heads toward the last bastion. Look at that desperation. Rupiel faced it head-on.

“Let us advance. Let us sacrifice in place of the unloved ones.”

“I will dedicate everything I have.”

The angels who followed him to counter the demon offensive that had taken over the south were arrogant. All were mounted knights composed of holy knights and priests who could powerfully handle divine power.

Moreover, Rupiel didn’t just bring knights. He brought all available infantry, ranged, and artillery resources to prepare for battle. Compared to the relatively easy heretics, he had to face an opponent strong enough for a full-scale war, so he came down with all available forces.

Of course, it wasn’t all of heaven’s power. It was all the forces he could bring with his authority.

In other words, if he were defeated here, he would fall from heaven and lose all his divine power.

“That’s fine. If it makes the Archangel aware, it will be a great death.”

After making his resolve, Rupiel raised his sword. A desperate holy war awaited him.

“Secretary, it seems the Dark Church is officially expanding its influence in the south. They say they’re putting forward a new god with demons at the forefront.”

A new god?

Rupiel turned his head. A clergyman answered, trembling.

“I-I heard they’re putting forward that forgotten god. Surely the Goddess of Night…”

“So I finally hear that name again.”

The secretary wasn’t surprised. Rather, as if he had been waiting, he gripped his sword firmly.

“Just as they have their destiny, we have our destiny bestowed upon us. This war will be that turning point.”

His eyes were solemn. The angels who had come abandoning all glory steeled their resolve without fear.

“Win. For the unfulfilled duty.”

The declaration of war resonated throughout the papal territory.

The flow of the world began to surge relentlessly.