Ch.6565. People Waiting for Help (1)

Flesh. And black veins protruding like tentacles. But the child’s expression didn’t seem pained. The face that had been contorted with phantom pain from the amputated area now looked extremely peaceful. Like that of someone sleeping.

“How… was this done?”

Bishop Andre asked, not showing his bewilderment.

“He was healed. By the ‘Teacher.’ He said he would make new flesh grow on the child’s arm and reduce the pain. And he told us that this child is proof of the end times…”

The woman said as she placed her hand on the child’s shoulder. Isis couldn’t hear the woman’s words. All Isis could see was the child’s horrifically transformed appearance and the mother’s face, rejoicing that she no longer had to see her child suffering in pain.

“Now, go inside first.”

When the woman patted the child’s back, the child went back inside. Isis followed the child’s retreating figure with her eyes. What did I just see? What have these apocalypse worshippers done to that child? What is about to happen? Have others been subjected to the same thing?

Isis felt dizzy. When she showed signs of staggering, Aryen quickly grabbed her shoulder. Bishop Andre glanced at Isis, then turned to the woman. The bishop’s eyes were emotionless.

“Please come in. I’d like to offer you some tea.”

“No, that’s fine. I need to get back and write my report.”

The bishop made up an excuse. The woman didn’t seem to care much about the reason for the refusal.

“Does the ‘Teacher’ appear in the village often?”

At Bishop Andre’s question, the woman shook her head.

“No. He only appears in the village at midnight, during sermon times. We have no idea where he stays normally. He healed my son’s mind and body simultaneously during one of those sermon times. There was one time he showed himself in the village during the day…”

The bishop frowned. He doesn’t show himself during the day. He can only be seen at night. So the only way to make contact with him is to sneak into that brewery at night? It would be cleanest to just eliminate everyone in that brewery, but that would inevitably cause friction with the Kingdom of Kairos.

“Is attending that sermon at night the only way to see the ‘Teacher’?”

The woman nodded with a gentle smile.

“Yes. Are you perhaps interested in the Teacher’s teachings, Inspector?”

Bishop Andre gave a smile that seemed to reek of blood at the woman’s question.

“I find it very interesting. If I have the chance, I’d certainly like to attend once.”

The woman smiled approvingly at the bishop’s answer.

“Oh my, then… Come to the brewery at the edge of our village at midnight. He said newcomers are always welcome, and he’d be even happier if they’re from outside our village. I wish my husband would come with me like this… He still refuses to go.”

The woman said this as she grabbed the bishop’s hand.

“So many people around us are interested. Surely my husband will understand someday?”

The bishop looked straight into the woman’s eyes and nodded.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Clatter-bang!!

Just then, they heard someone running. A rain barrel that had been standing in the alley was knocked over, spilling black water. The woman’s husband, the man the bishop had first met, was approaching with large strides, his face contorted with anger and fear.

“You-!! How many times have I told you not to bring guests home-!!”

The man saw the open door of the house and immediately fell silent. The color drained from his face, turning a deathly brown.

“I showed them our son. The Holy Woman helped us before. She should see what happened to our son.”

Her voice was incredibly innocent. The man trembled, then slapped his wife across the face.

Crack-!

The woman’s body was too weak to withstand the strength of the sturdy man. She staggered backward, hit the doorframe, and collapsed. But the woman didn’t clutch her slapped cheek, and without changing her expression, she stared at the man with her swollen face. The man, his face distorted like a demon, approached his wife who had fallen by the door.

“I told you. No matter what. That’s not allowed.”

“They understood. They even said they’re interested in the Teacher’s words. Now if only you would agree. Why do you keep refusing when our son has recovered?”

“You crazy woman.”

The man staggered backward. Then, tearing at his hair, he fell to his knees and let out a roar like a sob. Thud. Thud. The man’s hands, pounding the ground, became scraped and torn, stained with blood. The woman looked at him as if he were some kind of animal.

“Please calm down.”

The bishop helped the man up. Staggering as he barely stood, the man grabbed the bishop’s collar with his bloodied hand. The stench of an unwashed person rose sharply. The man led the bishop, stumbling toward the depths of the alley.

“You saw it.”

The man asked, looking around cautiously. The bishop slowly nodded, and the man, with trembling arms, looked into the bishop’s eyes.

“Help us. You said you’re an inspector. This village is getting stranger by the day. All of this started when that ‘Teacher’ character arrived. People are falling for his tricks one by one, receiving strange teachings.”

The man spewed words without pause, then took a rough breath.

“It’s no use now. I simply cannot live here with my sanity intact. My wife won’t even listen when I say we should leave.”

The man looked around again.

“His ears might be listening from somewhere. Everyone in the village is now his eyes and ears. So…”

Heh heh heh.

The man sat down on the ground with a sound that could have been either laughter or crying. Then he raised his head again to look at the bishop and the Holy Woman who had followed him.

“Help us. Please, save us.”

Isis looked into the man’s eyes. They were the eyes of someone lost in the deepest despair. What must it feel like to be the only one clinging to sanity while everyone around you goes mad?

“Holy Woman. Please, deny their words. End this madness.”

Tell us that the world has not yet ended.

The man said in a mournful voice.

==

“…What on earth was that?”

One of the inquisitors spoke up. Bishop Andre looked around at the people gathered in the church. Everyone who had returned from investigating the village wore the same pale, ashen expression. The bishop recalled the shape of the flesh covering the child’s body.

“A fragment of the Calamity.”

The bishop answered briefly as he took a cigarette from his pocket. Then he used a sacred tool to light the end of the cigarette and inhaled.

“Probably from the third Calamity… the Kraken. There are records of evil god worshippers creating monsters by feeding them snake flesh before.”

Whoosh. Smoke escaped faintly from the bishop’s mouth. Even Aryen’s face, which usually maintained an expressionless demeanor, was now contorted with disgust.

“Why would they do such a thing?”

“Some do it out of simple curiosity, while others do it sincerely praying for the revival of the Calamity.”

The bishop took another long drag on his cigarette. The tobacco leaves burned black.

“What happens to the person who receives such a transplant?”

“What do you expect me to say? Either they transform into a monster that has lost all intellect and reason, or they die as a lump of flesh like that. One of the two.”

The bishop exhaled smoke while looking at the downhill path leading to the village.

“What’s the possibility of the Calamity reviving?”

“Approaching zero. The evil god worshippers probably know that well too. But what makes them evil god worshippers is their willingness to sacrifice thousands of people for that near-zero possibility.”

Aryen frowned.

“Is their real goal the revival of the Calamity?”

“I doubt it. No one knows their true purpose. Probably only their leader knows.”

Bishop Andre took out a portable ashtray and put his cigarette butt in it.

“Well, it seems our tasks are becoming clear one by one. Infiltrating their heretical sermon to approach the apocalypse worship. Capturing that ‘Teacher’ character, weeding out the apocalypse worshippers, and…”

“Killing the child who received that trace implant. And finding and killing anyone else who might have received the same, if there are any.”

Aryen said coldly. The bishop looked at Aryen with disapproval but didn’t deny his words.

“Yes. It would be best to deal with the child before it transforms into something strange. It would be convenient for us if it just disappeared by turning into flesh, but given that it has survived this long, it’s much more likely to transform into a monster.”

Bishop Andre and Aryen’s eyes met. Aryen gripped his sword hilt with a bitter smile.

“Is there any need to delay action? Wouldn’t it be better to deal with this as quickly as possible?”

“It would be best to do it simultaneously when we capture the ‘Teacher.’ Since the ones hiding here seem to be quite numerous, we should be fully prepared.”

The bishop took out a dagger from his pocket. Isis watched as the bishop’s dagger was thrust into the chair. As if the chair were the child’s head. The blade of the dagger penetrated the chair smoothly.

Help us. Please save us.

The man’s voice seemed to echo. Isis looked at the bishop and Aryen discussing the child’s “treatment.” Treatment meant discussing how to kill the child.

‘Are you thinking of wasting soldiers meaninglessly, Ilroy? Even if we fight it at the strait, we still have to face the Kraken in the sea. To truly kill the Kraken, we must wait until it comes to the shore, then attack it simultaneously from both land and sea. There’s no other way.’

By agreeing to those words, I had already once forsaken an opportunity to save them. I was afraid. I didn’t yet know what weight saving others carried.

And Isis had witnessed the results of that choice closer than anyone. She remembered the desperate cries for help, the people dying without time for treatment. The vanished city, the broken village. What expression would that man make if his child died?

Tell us that the world has not yet ended.

Isis found herself speaking without realizing it.

“No.”

Aryen and Bishop Andre both turned to look at her. Isis spoke again, clearly, putting strength into each syllable.

“We must not kill the child.”

Bishop Andre frowned at Isis’s words.

“What are you saying, Isis?”

“Exactly what I said. I’m saying we shouldn’t kill him.”

The bishop shook his head and spoke again.

“Isis, didn’t I tell you? There’s no way to reverse the child’s condition now. With such extensive infiltration, the child has only two futures left.”

Either becoming flesh or becoming a monster.

“Dying by our hands would be far less painful.”

Aryen added. Isis shook her head. She couldn’t choose either of those options. This wasn’t atonement but a punishment given to her.

“I’ll heal him.”

Bishop Andre and Aryen’s expressions hardened.

“…Healing is impossible. It’s a waste of time, Isis. We cannot waste your magic in a place like this.”

Isis stubbornly shook her head.

“We can give him a chance. Just once. If it fails, we can do as the bishop wishes.”

“…When and how do you propose to heal him, Isis?”

“We can go at the time they gather at the brewery and heal him then.”

This time Aryen shook his head.

“It’s too dangerous. I’m sure you were told to restrict your activities at night. Isis, I understand your sympathy for them, but there are things that cannot be overcome by sympathy alone.”

“Even if your magic could work a miracle and heal him, the possibility is almost non-existent.”

“I’m going there, no matter what anyone says.”

Aryen frowned at Isis’s words.

“You’re taking on too much risk for an invisible possibility, Isis. Remember that our purpose is to capture the heretics here…”

“To capture the heretics and save people, right?”

“This is childish stubbornness.”

Isis frowned. But there was no one who seemed to support her opinion. Bishop Andre was opposing her along with Aryen, and the other inquisitors also looked uncomfortable, avoiding eye contact with Isis.

At this rate, the child will die before I even get a chance to try healing him.

Then, they will have to live stagnantly like sewage, never receiving salvation.

“Please…”

Tears welled up in Isis’s eyes.

If only I could have one chance…

“I agree with Isis.”

Just then, a voice broke the silence. Aryen narrowed his brow and raised his head at the voice.

“…You.”

The Hero.

Ilroy had raised his hand.

“If there’s a possibility of saving him, even if it’s infinitely close to zero, why ignore it?”