Ch.70Business? Meeting (3)

Ortes pronounced doom with a calm smile.

The return of the Demon King was not shocking. It was shock itself.

The nemesis of all religious orders, beyond the Twelve Ministers.

The end of the mythical age.

The only one who ascended.

For those who served the gods, the Demon King’s name was the equivalent of fear.

The Round Table, which hadn’t completely quieted even after Joaquin’s rebuke, fell into silence.

How could a being that should have disappeared thousands of years ago return to this land?

A declaration so intense it bleached one’s thoughts. Even Joaquin himself, who had demanded prophecies of “the greatest calamity,” was no exception.

The doom Joaquin had foreseen wasn’t the Demon King’s return. Though similar in context as a catastrophe that would engulf the entire world…

‘How could he make such an outrageous prophecy?’

What that man uttered was closer to a curse. Joaquin’s foresight was the result of meticulous yearning that wove holy power into thorough rationality and prediction.

But now, wasn’t Utis bringing up the fearsome name of the Demon King without any evidence, simply to make a shocking, blasphemous statement?

Why would such a being—a magician of unprecedented power who toppled countless religious orders and elevated himself to a position no different from a god, possessing such overwhelming strength that his ascension was considered fortunate—descend to earth once again?

That wasn’t a prophet but a madman.

…if that must be the case.

The vision from moments ago flickered in his mind. Something descending from the center of the ominous fog of fate that covered the celestial sphere.

As the head of the Phoibos Order, Joaquin could interpret the components of the vision. The fog surrounding the descender represented fragments of fate that the descender could twist and control.

All gathering fates bowed before him. A scene as if the world itself was created for him.

What else could possess such an overwhelming presence? The departed gods? An extradimensional being reaching into this world?

“Three years at most. The Demon King will regain his body and resurrect.”

“You’ve truly gone mad!”

Joaquin cried out convulsively. Perhaps it was reality denial, not wanting to believe that the scene Utis showed was the coming future.

“My, don’t even you know anything?”

Utis’s smile deepened. It was the bitter smile prophets show to those struggling against fate.

Seeing that expression—one he himself once wore—on another’s face, Joaquin felt an indescribable helplessness.

Demos, who had brought Utis, was equally perplexed by his words. Demos had summoned Utis for the vote on how to respond to Argyrion.

Two positions: either allow Argyrion’s expansion of power or secretly leak information to the Ten Towers to drive Argyrion out.

Currently, the majority favored allowing or even cooperating with Argyrion.

The strategy was to hinder the Ten Towers’ pursuit of Argyrion, letting them grow in strength and then have them fight each other to mutual destruction, which was judged beneficial to the Divine Order.

But Demos thought differently. Most of the grace hosts Argyrion used for terrorism were believers, mainly ordinary followers who couldn’t handle divine power and thus couldn’t resist.

Allowing or even supporting Argyrion meant contributing to innocent deaths. To prevent such evil, he had invited Phoibos’s prophet.

He believed that one who could see the future would testify to how terrible the future born from innocent deaths would be, and advise on how to proceed without sacrifices.

‘But suddenly the Demon King?!’

Demos looked at Phoibos’s prophet in confusion. The smile on his lips hadn’t moved at all.

As if he had predicted even this situation.

***

‘It’s fine, it’s fine, I wasn’t caught…’

I inwardly sighed with relief. Honestly, I was a bit nervous halfway through, wondering if I should have brought Phoibos’s crystal.

But when Joaquin’s task for me was “just say something dangerous,” I was confident in my victory.

Prophecies can’t be cross-verified anyway. Whatever I say, they can claim “that’s a false prophecy!” and I can retort, “Maybe your ability is insufficient to see it?”

Prophecy, from observation to interpretation, depends entirely on subjectivity. If sacred objects or power were involved, the authenticity of prophecies might be determined.

But even including such variables, my prophecy was firm.

‘Because it’s from the original story.’

Though I’ve been blindsided a few times by trusting the original descriptions too readily, the major settings haven’t been twisted so far.

The Demon King returning in 2077 is the most basic setting of the original. It’s both the most shocking future for the Divine Order and an irreversible fact.

Somehow Joaquin’s expression became quite serious—was my statement too shocking? I glanced around.

Ah. The others were covering their faces. Looking briefly at Demos who summoned me, he too wore an expression of shock.

As descendants of those who betrayed the Demon King, being hunted their entire lives, they must be sensitive to this issue. But…

“My, don’t even you know anything?”

It was surprising that even the Divine Order, who considered the Demon King their mortal enemy, hadn’t guessed about the resurrection—though the Ten Towers might not expect his return since they defeated him themselves.

I thought they would have some clues about the Demon King’s resurrection.

I had speculated that the Divine Order disappeared in the original timeline because of the Demon King’s resurrection. That they actively tried to prevent it, easily exposing themselves to Blasphemia’s surveillance network, and ultimately perished.

‘I guess not. Then why did the Divine Order disappear?’

***

A priest who had maintained silence since the visit of the nobody finally spoke.

“…Truly bold, and arrogant too. You act not as a prophet of god, but as if you were a god yourself.”

He was a giant man wearing a white toga with his head covered by an equally white hood. His dignified voice resonated, filling the Round Table chamber.

There was a power in the giant’s voice that overwhelmed the assembly. Even the curtain of fear brought by the terrifying prophecy seemed to retreat upon hearing his voice.

“And you are?”

“I am Philoxenon, who serves Aigio, the foremost among the Twelve Ministers.”

The word “foremost” describing Aigio. Other priests showed discomfort but didn’t object. Aigio was indeed the undisputed principal deity of the Divine Order’s pantheon.

For example, if Phoibos was “the god who sits highest in the heavens and sees farthest,” Aigio was the heavens themselves.

“Master of the sky. Lord of oaths. Earthly representative of the Thunder-Bearer! Pleased to meet you. As I said, I am Utis.”

Utis’s recitation of the grand epithets resembled a jester mocking a king. Philoxenon answered in a solemn voice.

“Indeed. As you say, Aigio is the god who governs oaths. Thus, I have been granted the holy power to discern the truth of oaths.”

Oh, my. Ortes inwardly muttered. Was there really such a holy power?

As Philoxenon raised his hand, a scale made of lightning that glowed by itself formed in it. On one side of the scale lay a single eagle feather.

“This is the holy power that weighs your conscience. If you truly believe what you have said is the truth, place a strand of your hair on the opposite scale.”

***

I plucked a hair without hesitation.

Honestly, I did hesitate a bit. Wondering if I was needlessly losing a hair follicle. But when you’re trying to deceive—no, when you’re trying to persuade others, you shouldn’t show hesitation. I placed the plucked hair on the lightning scale.

Philoxenon asked sternly:

“Where did you hear the prophecy that the vanished magician would return?”

“I didn’t hear it. I saw it with my own eyes.”

If that scale reads my mind as Philoxenon explained, it will judge this as truth. Because I read the original story on Earth.

Indeed, the lightning scale wobbled and then tilted toward my hair. Philoxenon asked again:

“Do you believe in the future you testified to?”

“I don’t just believe that. I also believe in what happens next. The Demon King’s actions will bring catastrophe to our world.”

The scale remained tilted toward my hair, unmoving. A deep sigh escaped from Philoxenon’s lips.

“…My questions are finished. If any fellow priests have remaining questions, speak.”

A moment of silence followed. As the priests looked at each other, a question that had emerged during the earlier commotion surfaced again.

“What’s the secret to passing the Blasphemia interview?”

“I didn’t obtain my Blasphemia status through an interview. If I had to say, it was more like a practical examination. I stood on the same battlefield with Blasphemia agents many times, and earned my current status during a mission important enough to dispatch a secret inspector.”

I answered as truthfully as possible without lying. I was on the same battlefield, yes. Just not on the same side—we fought each other.

When the scale didn’t move, someone clicked their tongue. Did they want to infiltrate Blasphemia?

“What do you think of the Ten Towers?”

Still trying to test my ideology, Prodito. I answered quickly:

“Bastards endangering the world with their pointless actions?”

Seeing the unmoving scale, Prodito stood up and applauded.

“Pass…! He passes!”

Urania, who had smacked the back of Prodito’s head, looked at me with subtle eyes.

“Are you interested in romance right now? If so, how about me as a partner?”

She gently lifted her veil. Golden hair flowing over skin like white jade. It was like a scene from a movie or advertisement.

I struggled to suppress a laugh that threatened to burst out. While the features visible through the veil were undeniably impressive, I was in a position to attend to Carisia most closely.

Seeing Carisia’s face daily made it difficult for me to be swayed by beauty tactics now.

“I’m not interested in romance, nor in you.”

The scale didn’t waver. Urania clicked her tongue once and asked again:

“What’s this? Do you have someone you like?”

It was a simple question.

“Hmph. No.”

The scale wobbled and tilted toward the eagle feather.

No. Why?