Ch.148Intermission (2)

Demos returned to the Divine Order. From his perspective, it had been an incredibly productive business trip.

First to be mentioned was the last descendant of the Bacchus Order. Despite the burden of being the sole survivor of her order, she was remarkably bold, and her skills matched her boldness.

When a mysterious assailant suddenly appeared and denounced them as cult followers in front of everyone, Demos felt that things had gone terribly wrong.

He had the intuition that there might be casualties. It seemed inevitable that sacrifices would be required for the priests to escape when surrounded by mages.

However, Kine changed that common sense.

He couldn’t tell exactly what she did, but the mages’ hostility suddenly shifted targets. Her method of using divine power was so unusual that even Demos himself didn’t initially recognize it.

He was only able to detect it thanks to the scent of wine permeating the scene—a distinctive trace of the Bacchus Order. An extraordinary technique that instantly bewitched the group of mages while perfectly concealing the wavelength of divine power.

Demos recalled the questions raised against Ortes by both the Priestess faction and the Pope faction: “Isn’t he trying to privatize the Bacchus Order under the pretext of protecting its survivor?”

Of course not. After arriving in Algoth City, he had also taught Kine how to use holy arts, but skills like hers were not something one could achieve through a few days of special training.

Ortes was truly doing his best to educate the successor of the Bacchus Order.

‘Perhaps neither the Priestess faction nor the Pope faction truly represents the best path for the Divine Order.’

Through the excavation of the Great Temple of Pluto and its sacred artifacts, the Pope’s plan had already made more than half its progress. As a clergyman, Demos fully understood the Priestess’s disgust with the Pope’s plan.

However, opposing a plan already in motion seemed like opposition for opposition’s sake. While the Great Temple brought power to the Order, they could also receive divine power from the Pope’s creations.

If they had already strayed from the righteous path, why not use both? At least until they defeated their immediate worst enemies—the Ten Towers and the Demon King of Magic prophesied by Phoebus’s oracle.

At least as the leader of the “War God” sect, that’s what he thought. Whether following the Priestess’s path or the Pope’s path, using all available means to fight.

Demos returned to the Order with satisfaction and reported. The psychic parasite’s demise seemed certain.

Unusually, the Pope requested a private audience. He gladly accepted.

“I see. So the psychic parasite has perished.”

The Pope asked in a gentle voice about the “fable” the psychic parasite had attempted to create. Although Demos hadn’t directly participated in the final battle, he sincerely answered with information about the magical vortex and spatial distortions.

“Indeed. So it ultimately distorted space.”

“Strictly speaking, it wasn’t the ‘final stage.’ It disappeared in an explosion before completing the fable.”

“What was the nature of that explosion?”

“According to Ortes, it was the psychic parasite’s spatial magic and Hydra Company’s president—”

Suddenly, Demos recalled their encounter in the garden. The fear of the Ten Towers. Power disguised in human form.

“High Priest Demos, are you alright?”

The Pope’s calm voice brought him back to his senses. After all, Carisia’s true identity wasn’t important. What mattered was that she was Ortes’s ally, and Ortes was an ally of the Divine Order.

“Ah. It’s nothing. I was just recalling the incident again because the scale seemed too large to be a simple reaction between magical forces. So the Hydra Company president also used some kind of magic. My theory is that they caused a runaway reaction by clashing spatial magic against spatial magic.”

“I see. Thank you.”

It wasn’t clear what he was thankful for. As the Pope was about to rise from his seat, Demos found himself speaking.

“Why don’t we put an end to this?”

“End what, exactly?”

“The conflict between you, Pope, and the Priestess. From my perspective, both approaches have their strengths and weaknesses. It’s difficult to be certain that choosing only one path is right. So why not take both and maximize their advantages?”

The Pope smiled faintly—a smile so subtle it seemed about to disappear.

“If that child wishes it, I am willing to end this conflict at any time.”

Rising from his seat, the Pope gradually moved away before vanishing without a trace. He must have teleported to his chambers.

That power was a marvel even to the emissaries of the Divine Order.

“If the Priestess wishes it, huh.”

Wasn’t there a saying from the Order of Polyphron, the blacksmith god, that “strike the iron while it’s hot”? Demos moved to meet the Priestess.

It was time to end this meaningless internal strife.

***

In his final moments, Nastion—having lost about 30% of his mass from being pierced by Ortes’s high-frequency blade—barely managed to complete the sentence “The name of our great enemy is Ortes…” before losing consciousness upon arriving at headquarters.

When he regained consciousness, he sensed that he would face the anger and hatred of Haltos and the other executives of Arguirion.

Nastion had judged Haltos as irrational despite his perfectly accurate assessment, and opposed deploying their full forces. The responsibility for the loss of Sprigo fell squarely on Nastion’s shoulders.

Arguirion would never forgive Nastion for ignoring the resurrection of their great enemy and failing to take initial countermeasures.

Once again, he had to admit that his expectations were completely wrong.

The other executives of Arguirion did not reproach Nastion.

If they had at least boasted, “See, the great enemy did exist!” Nastion might have been able to accept the situation.

Some silently patted his back or shoulder, while others quietly murmured “It’s okay” as they passed by, though he wasn’t sure what exactly was supposed to be okay.

Every time he heard the hollow consolation that “it could have happened to anyone,” Nastion’s self-loathing deepened.

“It’s understandable when facing the great enemy.” All of Arguirion’s executives seemed to vehemently agree on this one point.

Although Nastion was a being who sowed seeds of division and delusion, now his head was throbbing. It was Haltos who pushed his self-loathing to the limit.

In the grand conference hall, attended by all available executives of Arguirion, Haltos declared loudly:

‘Behold, comrades! Comrade Nastion has failed! Algoth City has been reduced to ashes, beyond the reach of our enlightenment.’

At this point, Nastion was preparing for self-criticism as the main culprit who had disobeyed the supreme commander and caused unnecessary losses.

‘But he has achieved more than failure! He has accomplished a great feat that none of us could achieve!’

While Nastion was bewildered, Haltos shouted with passionate fervor:

‘He! Has discovered the name of our great enemy!’

Thunderous applause filled the conference hall. Faced with countless requests for handshakes, Nastion’s vision—though he didn’t actually have organs called eyes—went dark.

Just a name? It was a scene where common sense and rationality seemed to have gone on vacation.

“Nastion.”

Haltos’s voice pulled Nastion from his thoughts.

“I’ll ask again. This is truly important. Is it certain that the cult followers were under the protection of Hydra Company, to which Ortes belongs?”

“Yes. If they had used the hunting god’s relic, they would certainly have needed charging time. It’s clear that there is a priesthood capable of using divine power for tracking arts rather than relics.”

“I’ve examined the recorded footage of the situation. Can you guess why the mages attacked you instead of the exposed cult followers?”

“That is—”

He couldn’t answer clearly. Kine, was it? Whatever magic had been activated by that ridiculous word shouted by Ortes’s bodyguard stationed next to Tabning’s Knemon was certain.

The problem was that he didn’t know the nature of that magic.

“I couldn’t identify it precisely, but I believe it was magic that affected the mental realm.”

“I see.”

Haltos’s expression darkened. Ortes had a powerful magical company under his command. And he had formed a secret alliance with cult followers.

Ortes and Arguirion were mortal enemies.

“The cult followers themselves must know the rumors that they and we are on the same side.”

“…Do you think the Divine Order deliberately spread such rumors?”

“No. It must have been Ortes, who controls the Divine Order. To hide the Order’s activities under our shadow. We must admit that our plan to hide ourselves behind the Order’s shadow has failed.”

Haltos considered the various strange circumstances surrounding Arguirion. The leakage and failure of plans. The denunciation of plans that hadn’t even begun. The verdict that a Tower Master they hadn’t even recruited was colluding with Arguirion.

Above all.

“Talo…”

The murder of the Silver Magic Tower elder.

All questions were being answered. If Ortes was behind all these incidents, the result became clear.

“Nastion.”

“Yes.”

“How far has our plan to open the dimensional gate progressed?”

“We were supposed to collect data from the psychic parasite’s fable, but proper collection became impossible when I was defeated. Taking this into account, I would say we’re at about 76% completion.”

“I see. 24%…”

More than enough margin for Ortes to turn the tables.

“This time, let’s turn the tables from our side.”

Now that they could truly face their great enemy in the true sense of the word.