Chapter 649: The Story

A Pater Church Knight Priest spoke.

He mentioned that God might be wishing for the end.

Depending on how you interpret it… No, regardless of who said it, it was a shocking statement.

It was as if the God who created the world was about to abandon it.

However, Oliver did not show much reaction, even after hearing those words.

He had heard something similar in the past.

He had encountered such conversations through Ewan and Merlin before.

‘…Anyway, the fact that the clock is ticking means that the world is filled with so much evil that God’s patience has reached its limit. It’s like a countdown to the end has started.’

Oliver recalled the apocalyptic discussion he had with Ewan and Merlin.

Their statements were similar.

They spoke of countless sins accumulating in the world, and that God, unable to bear it anymore, wished for the end—a deeply despairing story.

Oliver questioned himself.

Why, even after hearing such stories in the past and now, does he feel so little emotion?

It seemed Roderick also sensed Oliver’s feelings, as he answered without being asked.

“It might be due to a kind of cognitive dissonance.”

“Cognitive dissonance?”

“In simple terms, it refers to a state of imbalance where emotions, attitudes, and behaviors contradict each other. Do you know what kind of emotion people generally feel when such a phenomenon occurs?”

“I’m not sure.”

Oliver, who was skilled at reading emotions but less so at understanding them, responded.

“They feel discomfort.”

“Is that so?”

“Indeed. Most humans are dualistic and contradictory beings, but paradoxically, they desire consistency. Consistency is seen as beautiful since nothing is more pitiful than a human whose words and actions don’t match.”

Oliver vaguely understood what he was trying to say.

“Now, here’s a question… What do people usually do when they feel discomfort? They either rationalize or distort the situation as they please.”

“I understand the part about rationalization, but what does distorting the situation mean?”

“It means interpreting the end, not as God’s wrath, but as a trial. They think God still loves us, and that the end is only meant for unbelievers. They believe that having true faith will mean everything’s fine… Hahaha.”

Roderick suddenly burst into laughter.

The laughter carried with it a mix of irony and ridicule among many other emotions.

“I honestly don’t get it. Seriously. How can you claim to love someone and yet put them through trials? Isn’t that weird? But surprisingly, many people hold this mindset. Do you understand?”

“I don’t really… But what about you, Your Highness?”

Oliver, who didn’t feel much emotion, answered with a question instead.

Roderick paused to think, then answered.

“Honestly, it’s not that I can’t understand. If you don’t interpret it that way, you’ll go mad.”

Roderick injected emotion into his final words, and even Oliver, who was usually indifferent to others’ emotions, could empathize with him this time.

The Father who watches over us from above.

The Pater Church taught that He is the omnipotent being who created the world and humans, and that He loves humanity.

But for such a being to be so disappointed in humanity that He wishes for the end…

Even if one is not a Dark Sorcerer like him, for those who have devoted their life to serving God, it would be a hard pill to swallow.

If an omnipotent God truly wished for the end, it would be impossible to avoid.

No, it might be more than just a matter of life and death.

It could mean the denial of one’s very existence, a fear far worse than death.

Oliver, who grew up in an orphanage, had seen something similar in the past.

He had seen kids abandoned by their parents.

For those kids, that day was like death, maybe even worse.

Oliver could explore the concept of the end from a new perspective.

Though he honestly didn’t want to.

But Roderick’s eloquence and deep emotions had drawn him in without him even realizing it.

Just as Oliver snapped back to reality and tried to distance himself from the topic, Roderick spoke a beat faster.

“Of course, I’m not so different… You remember that I’m not particularly devout, right?”

“…Yes, Your Highness.”

“But don’t misunderstand. Even though my faith is weak, I’m not foolish enough to doubt the existence of God. The evidence is too clear to doubt.”

Roderick spread his hand, summoning Holy Power that illuminated the interior.

Oliver silently watched the light.

The sacred power that weakened magic and rendered Dark Magic null.

“Well, anything you’re curious about?”

“Pardon?”

“You seem like you have a question.”

Roderick read Oliver’s thoughts with uncanny precision.

In fact, Oliver did have something he was curious about.

It was the fundamental question of whether Holy Power was truly a gift from God.

Because in the past, Prince Edward of the Allied Kingdom, whom Oliver had met by chance, had said that Holy Power was not a gift from God.

‘…It wasn’t a lie.’

Oliver recalled the conversation with the prince he had accidentally encountered.

Surprisingly, he hadn’t lied and had spoken sincerely.

At the very least, the prince believed that Holy Power was not bestowed by God.

This naturally made Oliver question as well.

If Holy Power, which weakens magic and nullifies Dark Magic, wasn’t from God, then who did it come from?

Though, given the complicated situation, he was both curious and reluctant to know.

“No, there’s nothing.”

After brief but deep contemplation, Oliver answered.

“That’s fine then… So, how do you think I should respond in this situation?”

“Pardon? How should you respond?”

“If the omnipotent God truly desires the end, what should I, as a clergyman who serves Him, do in response?”

Oliver remained silent. It was too cruel and heavy a question to answer lightly.

“Rationally speaking, giving up everything would be the right choice. Opposing the omnipotent God is impossible, and it would be a sin too. Even if the world ends and all humans die, submitting and accepting it would be the right path.”

“I don’t know. I’m a Dark Sorcerer, after all.”

“Hahahahaha!”

Roderick burst into laughter when Oliver dodged the question.

Oddly enough, Oliver, who usually didn’t care if someone spat in his face, found that laughter oddly irritating.

“…Why are you laughing?”

“Because it’s fascinating. I’m talking about the end that no one could escape from, yet you’re reacting as if it’s someone else’s business.”

“It’s just hard to grasp.”

“If that were the case, I wouldn’t have bothered to talk this much.”

Roderick saw through Oliver’s lie.

“You’re far more human than I thought. You’re dualistic and self-centered. You may move for those you see in front of you or those you know, but you easily ignore larger problems.”

“…”

“Ah, don’t misunderstand. I’m not criticizing you… Anyway, going back to the original topic, if God wishes for the end, should I piously accept it like a true believer?”

Roderick slowly shook his head.

“No matter how much I think about it, I just can’t do that. It’s unfair. That’s why I joined forces with like-minded people to find a way to resist the end.”

“Is there a way?”

Oliver tilted his head.

According to Roderick, the end was essentially God’s will, which meant it should be impossible to go against.

“If we can’t avoid or prevent it, then we’ll control it. We’ll create a savior to save us.”

Roderick’s response, which defied common sense, left his mouth.

However, Oliver instantly understood that absurd statement.

He had heard it from Merlin in the past.

“Are you talking about the Son of an Angel?”

“You know about it, I see. Among the countless variations of the apocalypse, there’s a phrase like this: ‘When the world is filled with evil and the Prince of Hell opens the gate, the Son of the most holy Angel will sacrifice himself to save humanity…’ If the apocalypse has started, and we can’t avoid or stop it, then steering it in a way that ensures humanity’s survival might be the way to go.”

“Controlling the end… Is that even possible?”

“Whether it’s possible or not doesn’t matter. We’ll do whatever it takes to make it possible.”

Oliver had nothing to say. Roderick was right.

Since the end has already begun, and it cannot be avoided or accepted, they have no choice but to try whether it works or not.

“We’ve named this desperate struggle [Deus Ex Machina].”

“Deus Ex Machina?”

Oliver unconsciously echoed. He had encountered that term in a book before.

Literally translated, it means ‘God from the machine’ or ‘the God of the machine,’ referring to a plot device in literary works that resolves all conflicts in one swoop.

Like a character, or a dramatic element.

For example, at the last moment, a god suddenly descends, introduces himself, punishes the wicked, and rewards the righteous.

Roderick savored the word as he said it.

“Deus Ex Machina… Ancient literati defined it as a narrative method that should not be used. But that’s why I like the name even more. To face a nonsensical catastrophe like the apocalypse, we need an equally nonsensical being on our side.”

Oliver remained silent.

“But there’s one more reason why I like the name Deus Ex Machina. Do you have any guesses?”

“No.”

“It’s for the literal meaning—‘The God from the machine,’ or ‘The God of the machine.’ A god created by the hands of man… Isn’t that wonderful?”

In that moment, Roderick radiated a strong emotion.

It was anger at the unfairness, resentment, a will to live, and a yearning for something greater.

From that complex glare of emotions, Oliver discerned what Roderick truly desired.

“You want to control God?”

“Seeing a God who wants to destroy the world simply because He doesn’t like it… doesn’t sound so bad. Do you think it’s possible?”

“I don’t know. To be honest, I think it’s impossible.”

Oliver answered based on his encounters with the God depicted in sacred texts.

That being wasn’t one to be created in such a way.

“Haha, your faith runs deep for a Dark Sorcerer. Seeing it, I suddenly remembered something.”

“What might that be?”

“When you asked about Boniface at the Tower of Magic.”

Boniface. The Holy Knight who had stood in Oliver’s way in Wineham.

Oliver still remembered him.

It was hard to forget, with his wings made of light that allowed him to fly.

Quite a distinctive figure. Maybe that’s why some people were mesmerized by his flashy appearance and called him an angel, the Son of an Angel, or even a savior.

Oliver just referred to him as a man with wings.

Because that’s exactly what he was, a man with wings.

What can I say… No matter how colorful a raven’s feathers are, it’s still a raven.

Of course, that didn’t mean he was disregarding him. On the contrary, Oliver held him in high esteem.

He had demonstrated incredible power, effortlessly neutralizing magic and Dark Magic alike while flying through the air.

But the real reason Oliver remembered him was different.

It was due to an embarrassing memory.

A memory of when, consumed by rage, he beat him mercilessly and ultimately brought harm to people who had nothing to do with it.

Oliver remembers.

Kicking Boniface with his foot and launching him beyond a wall. Grabbing him from behind and smashing his spine with his knee. Tearing off his wings made of light, and mercilessly pummeling him until the building collapsed, until finally, trying to crush both his eyes like grapes.

All of it just to inflict pain.

And then he encountered them. A family trembling in fear because of him.

‘…’

They were all dirty and wore ill-fitting clothes.

It was clear they were barely scraping by.

In a fit of rage, Oliver had intruded into their home and, in that moment, felt shame.

For he had seen firsthand how his rash anger could harm others.

“Are you still curious about Boniface?”

“…Is he well?”

“Not exactly. He’s dead.”

“… How did he die?”

“The injuries he sustained in Wineham never healed fully, and he died because of that.”

Oliver countered.

“Isn’t it possible to heal with Holy Power?”

“Of course we tried. The issue was that it didn’t work at all.”

“Can that… even happen?”

“I wonder about that too. After all, Boniface shouldn’t have been injured like that in the first place.”

“…?”

“He was the first successful product of Deus Ex Machina.”

“Are you saying… he was the Son of an Angel?”

“Exactly. He was so close to being officially declared the Son of an Angel.”

“I don’t really understand, was he truly the Son of an Angel?”

“Do you think he wasn’t?”

“To be honest, he was impressive, but still just a man.”

Oliver’s blunt denial of Roderick’s efforts.

However, Roderick smiled as if he had heard the answer he was waiting for.

“You’re right. He was a man. Nevertheless, we praised him as the Son of an Angel because he succeeded in drinking the Holy Water. Not just any Holy Water, but the Holy Blood.”

“Holy Water? But-”

“-I’m not talking about the replica sold at the temples. I mean the Holy Water created by the angels for the Pater Church.”

“Angels?”

“Ah, you didn’t know? You see, Holy Power wasn’t given by God. Strictly speaking, it was granted through angels; the most beloved, most holy angels of God.”

Oliver’s eyes lit up at the unexpected information.

“This is a tradition passed down in the Pater Church. It’s said that God sent down His most beloved Son to rule under heaven, and that Son blessed a pond. That became the Holy Water and is where the Holy Emperor’s Palace now stands. All Holy Knights gain their Holy Power by drinking from that water.”

“And the Holy Water that makes one a Son of an Angel…”

“It’s a special Holy Water blessed by angels, into which a single drop of the angel’s blood is added. It’s a treasure secretly guarded by the Church.”

The flood of new information left Oliver confused, but one thing was clear.

“Is it okay for you to tell me all this?”

Indeed, what Roderick had just shared was something hardly anyone would know, and it was definitely not something to easily divulge.

If he shared such a secret with Oliver, it must have been for a significant reason.

The real issue was that Oliver didn’t want to know.

Roderick spoke up.

“At first, I couldn’t believe it. That Boniface, who had consumed Holy Blood, was defeated.”

“…”

“It came at a tremendous cost. I’m talking about creating Boniface. A sacrifice that would be impossible under any circumstances other than the apocalypse. There were results, though perhaps not as much as expected. Yet for such a being to be defeated by just a mercenary from a small city…”

“…”

“But what puzzled me further was that the wounds you left on him couldn’t be healed at all—not with ordinary Holy Power, nor with concentrated treatments using Holy Water, nor with exorcism rituals. Because of that, some came to say that you were truly a demon or even a heretic god. Even I started thinking that way.”

“Is that so?”

“Your presence coincided with incidents where fingers were broken and the apocalypse advanced one step at a time wherever you passed through.”

“It’s just a coincidence.”

“When coincidences keep piling up, it’s called fate. If you even gather a bunch of followers, all the more. Throughout the last few centuries, only one person has accomplished that… Pied Piper.”

Roderick paused before continuing.

“Come to think of it, you fought the Pied Piper and survived too?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying that perhaps Boniface’s consumption of the Holy Blood wasn’t a coincidence either. Maybe it was to summon someone to this place.”

Rumble… Rumble…

As soon as Roderick finished speaking, a slight vibration that couldn’t be traced began to resonate throughout the room.

Oliver closed his mouth and silently stared at Roderick, who also silently stared back at him.

It was as if they were interrogating each other with their eyes.

During the long silence, just when someone was about to break it, someone entered the room.

“Father.”

It was Pandora.

Her sudden arrival dissipated the unknown tension that had filled the room, and Oliver turned his head toward her.

Pandora hesitated for a moment upon seeing Oliver’s face, but soon gathered herself and explained why she was here.

“I have something to tell you. Someone just came; they said that the Pied Piper appeared in the town where you were staying and passed through it. He was leading well over a hundred children in the direction of Gallos.”