Chapter 689: Procession

The Holy Capital, the heart of the Pater Church.

Cough… Spit! Spit! Spit!!

All the water there turned to blood.

Croak. Croak. Croak. Croak. Croak. Croak. Croak.

From that bloody water, an endless horde of frogs poured out.

Rumble, rumble, rumble, rumble, rumble.

Before long, lice appeared in pillows, blankets, food, drink, and even on the clothes people were wearing.

Everyone screamed at the unimaginable phenomenon.

From the top of the highest hill in the Holy Capital to the outermost outskirts of the city.

Everyone screamed as they called out to the gods.

But the gods did not respond.

Not even to the prayers from the Holy Emperor’s Palace, the heart and center of the Pater Church.

Correction—perhaps the gods did respond.

But in a different form.

Bzzzzzzzz…!!

A swarm of flies, blacker than the night sky, descended from above and blanketed the Holy Capital.

“…??”

“……?!”

“……!!”

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…!!

The countless flies devoured the screams, cornered those trapped by the frogs, and attacked people as they stripped off their lice-infested clothes.

Everyone—men, women, the elderly, and children—fell into a state of panic, flailing desperately to ward off the flies.

They fired guns, swung lice-ridden blankets, or used their bare hands when nothing else was available.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…!!

But it was all in vain. They were helpless against the flies that darkened everything in sight.

The swarm mocked their desperate resistance by clinging to their bare skin, tearing it open with their long proboscises, and sucking their blood.

“Ah, it hurts…!”

“Mom! Mom!! Oh…!”

“Grrr—Ack! Ack! Ack!!”

Even the temples where the priests lived were not spared.

“God… Please…!”

An elderly priest, not a Dark Priest but respected for his years of wisdom, struggled to escape the flies.

He was all alone inside the temple, receiving no help from anyone.

He had made the fatal mistake of fleeing there, thinking he could escape the disaster in the sanctum where God resided.

And for that mistake, he would pay the price by becoming food for the flies that had invaded the temple.

Sharp stinging pain spread across his aged skin, accompanied by intense itching and, above all, overwhelming fear.

Fear of being devoured alive by the flies.

In his terror, the priest flailed frantically, shedding tears, saliva, and urine in a desperate attempt to save himself from this cursed swarm.

He fought with all his might to survive, to break free from these infernal flies.

In the struggle, a book of scriptures fell to the floor, and a cross toppled over—but those things no longer mattered. Surely, God would understand.

But the flies, unlike God, showed no mercy, clinging even more fiercely to the priest and continuing to drink his blood.

“Hnngh…”

At last, the priest collapsed to his knees, unable to shake off the swarm any longer.

Unable to do anything with his frail body, he clasped his hands together and began to pray.

He prayed to the Father in Heaven to lift this disaster, to protect him.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…!!

But no answer came, just as it never had in the seventy years of his life.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…!!

The only sound in his ears was the buzzing of the flies’ wings.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…!!

The accursed noise not only drowned out every other sound but also seemed to gnaw into his very mind.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…!!

His faith in and devotion to the gods gradually dimmed.

As the priest was about to faint with his eyes closed.

Drip.

A sudden silence fell, as unbelievable as it was.

The buzzing of the flies’ wings.

The skittering of lice across the ground.

The croaking of frogs.

Even the screams from the people—all of it had ceased.

All he could hear was a peaceful stillness.

The quiet helped the priest’s fraying mind regain some composure, and he found the courage to slowly open his eyes.

And he could see.

The once unruly flies, lice, and frogs were sitting in total silence, all looking in one direction.

It was an eerie sight that made every hair on his body stand on end. Yet, at the same time, the priest felt an inexplicable sense of awe as he followed their gaze.

He looked in the direction the flies, lice, and frogs were turned.

The priest knew what he was looking at. He had lived in the Holy Capital his entire life.

He was looking at the Convent on the far outskirts of the Holy Capital.

The place where women who worked at the very bottom for the Pater Church were trained.

Realizing this, the priest felt an odd sense of ecstasy.

As if all these disasters were merely trials meant to awaken their foolish selves.

Moved by the awe, the emotion, the ecstasy, the priest prepared to pray once more.

━━━━━━━━━━━━!!!

Without any aftershock, the ground shook, and with a tremendous roar, a massive cloud of dust erupted from a distance, engulfing everything around it like a blossoming flower.

“Ah…”

The shocking sight left the priest to groan, his pupils dilating to their limits.

But what was even more shocking was that, despite this, the flies, lice, and frogs remained unmoving, still staring at that place.

Chill…!

At that realization, the priest felt fear once again.

But not the same hot, chaotic fear as before. This was cold, rational fear.

It was as if someone was patiently explaining to him just how terrifying this was.

Was it because of that?

Suddenly, the priest had the thought to check his body.

His bloodied, itching body that had been gnawed on by the flies.

He wiped and touched the blood with his eyes and hands to assess his state.

And he realized.

The disaster was far from over.

The boils that had appeared, the worms swimming inside them—this was the sixth sign.

“Uaaaaah!! Aaaaah!!!”

The priest fell into a despair more calm and rational than anyone else.

***

[It feels a bit cramped here, right?]

A woman on a camel said this, pointing upwards with her index finger.

In that moment, Kevin felt it.

An unseen force gripping him, Joanna, the air, and this entire underground tomb.

A force that, although he could sense it, was impossible to avoid or resist.

All Kevin could do was extend his arm to protect Joanna, lower himself, and brace for the impact.

It was only a moment later that the ground seemed to shake, accompanied by an indescribable roar as the surrounding view turned hazy and gray all at once.

“Huff… Huff… Huff…!”

When the view finally cleared again, the air was thick with gray dust, and Kevin instinctively realized they had resurfaced.

Kevin looked at Joanna, whom he had protected with his arm.

She too was in the same state as him.

Her face was pale, cold sweat dripping down her forehead, panting heavily.

Pushed to the brink by extreme stress. But despite that, she was unharmed.

Even though the entire underground had come to the surface, neither Joanna nor Kevin were injured.

Pure chance? No, they had been protected.

The fact that everything around them had turned to ruins while Kevin and Joanna’s surroundings remained pristine, and the occasional remains of nuns in the wreckage, made it clear.

[Ah, refreshing.]

It was clear that the woman enjoying the air on the surface had protected them.

Even while flipping the world upside down, dragging the underground to the surface.

[Indeed, the air here seems better. Don’t you agree?]

The woman on the camel smiled softly in a typically feminine way as she looked at Kevin.

Despite the clear presence of the nuns used as materials on her body, Kevin felt an inexplicable sense of beauty and nobility.

A blasphemous beauty and an unholy nobility.

Even though Kevin said nothing, the woman on the camel continued speaking, as if she never expected a reply.

[But it’s not the view, is it?]

As she said this, the woman on the camel lightly flicked her hand, which was made of nuns’ arms.

Then the gray dust cloud parted as if by an unseen breeze, clearing the view.

“……!”

“……!”

Kevin and Joanna saw it.

The green frogs, red lice, and black flies, filling the area from the beginning of the view to as far as they could see.

Oddly, in that ruined place, the frogs, lice, and flies remained perfectly still, all staring in this direction—precisely at the woman on the camel.

Without making any sound.

The surreal sight and stillness made Kevin and Joanna feel a disturbing sense of dread that froze them on the spot—

“—Why are you here?”

A low voice wrung out from the depths.

An inappropriate sound like ink staining a pure white dress.

The voice was none other than Kevin’s.

The disciple of the Archive, temporarily appointed as Oliver’s senior brother, Kevin Dunbar.

“Is it because of him…?”

He strained to ask the question, and the woman on the camel looked at Kevin in silence.

Her gaze was more terrifying than the most murderous of stares, yet Kevin did not flinch and kept his eyes locked on hers.

Demanding an answer. The woman on the camel responded.

[Hehe, but I never asked you to speak, did I?]

The woman on the camel said, smiling.

Then an unknown cold and heavy pressure started softly but firmly pressing down on everything her sight touched.

Rrrr…r…r…r…r…r…r…!!

Everyone trembled.

Kevin, Joanna, and all the other living beings around.

This included the flies, lice, and frogs.

Tension reached its climax in an instant. Then it happened.

[I’m just kidding. You may speak.]

Just moments before Kevin and Joanna could crumble, the woman on the camel changed her words as easily as flipping a hand.

As if it was truly a joke.

And just like that, the crushing soft but firm pressure lifted, allowing Kevin and Joanna to breathe again.

This made it certain.

This was not an existence Kevin could defeat—no, it wasn’t even something that could be confronted.

It wasn’t something that could be overcome by teamwork or resolute determination. It wasn’t that kind of trivial thing.

This was what Kevin, seeing a devil for the first time, and Joanna, seeing one for the second time, both thought.

Especially Joanna… The Burned One, he had merely been toying with them. All because of Oliver’s existence.

As Kevin and Joanna tried to hold onto their sanity in the face of an overwhelming being, the woman on the camel spoke.

Perched atop the camel like a girl in a petulant mood, yet with the elegance of a noblewoman.

[Hmm, to answer your question, the reason I’m here is because of work. Business, you might say.]

The woman on the camel pointed downward with her finger, as if indicating someone below.

[Yes, I did come to meet someone. It’s a personal matter… Are you worried?]

The woman on the camel asked Kevin and Joanna, despite the considerable distance making it feel as if she was asking right in front of them.

[Him.]

The devil referred to Oliver as “him”. Then, she made an even more shocking statement.

[Thank you. Truly. For worrying about him.]

She thanked them for caring about Oliver.

Kevin and Joanna didn’t know how to respond. What should they say?

[So don’t worry. I have no intention of harming him. At least not unless he wants that.]

“Not unless he wants that.” At those words, Joanna reflexively glared at the woman on the camel.

She was about to ask what that meant, but the words didn’t come out.

When Joanna looked at the woman’s gentle expression, she found herself unable to speak.

The woman on the camel had not granted her permission to speak. She was friendly and kind, but she did not allow Joanna to say anything.

As if treating her like a cute pet.

Grit…!!

Even so, Joanna clenched her teeth hard enough to nearly break them, trying to ask her question.

Even though she had lost her Holy Power. Because she was still a Holy Knight.

“Sister… Delra?”

Just as Joanna was about to ask her question, a third voice was heard.

Only then did Kevin and Joanna realize the existence of others, who had been overshadowed by the presence of the woman on the camel.

Three hundred nuns who had been swept up in the destruction of the convent.

Only about a hundred had survived and were in relatively good condition.

Though covered in dust from the collapsed convent, they showed no signs of being troubled by the toxic frogs, lice, flies, or demonic entities.

Because the omen that had struck the entire Holy Capital had somehow avoided the convent.

The nuns were not particularly surprised by this fact.

Sister Delra had told them in advance.

The one chosen by God to raise the rights of the persecuted nuns.

The one who said that not only would they emerge unscathed from the disaster but that they would also enjoy the honor of sharing God’s word alongside His apostle and receiving His grace before the Prince.

Therefore, they were calm even when the omens struck the Holy Capital.

Waiting for the moment when glory and grace would descend.

But now, that being who had promised them glory and grace had appeared in a new form.

In the form of a necessary ingredient to summon God’s apostle.

The surviving nuns couldn’t cry or laugh as they gazed at the woman on the camel with dazed eyes.

As if they were hoping to wake up from this dream.

But this dream had now become reality, and in that reality, the woman on the camel asked.

[Do you still believe in me?]

The devil, possessing the bodies of the nuns, asked them.

If they still believed in her.

Rrrrrroooooooo…!

The camel, made of the nuns’ bodies, let out a grotesque cry using their vocal cords.

Then the nuns’ intertwined limbs began moving, turning towards the remaining hundred survivors buried in the convent’s ruins.

[Do you still wish to receive the glory of spreading God’s word and the grace of meeting Him?]

None of the nuns could answer.

This was truly the long-awaited moment, but now that it had arrived, they hesitated.

This was not what they had imagined. Not this…!

One nun finally mustered the courage to slowly shake her head.

She no longer wanted to be a part of this.

All eyes turned toward her.

To see what would happen because of her answer.

Surprisingly, and fortunately, the woman on the camel did not seem angry.

She simply nodded with an understanding smile.

But… Squish!

She pressed her finger in midair, crushing the nun who had shaken her head like an insect.

Without any emotion, she simply crushed her.

All that remained where the nun had been was a large bloodstain.

It was similar to when one squashes a mosquito.

Both in appearance and in feeling.

The nuns closest to her were splattered with the crushed nun’s blood.

But they couldn’t faint. They had to respond to the woman on the camel’s question.

The woman asked again.

[What is the response of the rest of you?]

Would they receive the glory and grace, or not?

Thud…

The answer was simple.

Like they had done for the past few centuries, the nuns knelt down, clasped their hands, and bowed their heads in submission.

Only the object of their worship had changed.

“We… believe in you…”

Hearing their response, the woman on the camel smiled just as she had before.

Splaaash!

The nuns gripped their heads with both hands and began to prepare to assist her.

They were becoming the very procession for the woman on the camel.