Chapter 39

You’re insane, you know that?

In the middle of Sikton’s incessant babbling, I carefully half-opened my eyes to reaffirm his thoughts.

Even with half-lidded eyes, only a bit more of the iris becomes visible.

I didn’t read his deep subconsciousness for fear of raising suspicion if I fully opened my eyes. But even with just the surface consciousness, I could roughly understand the situation.

He was a fanatic who believed without a shred of doubt that he would reach the Garden of Bacchus.

The preparation process was breathtaking.

Originally, Sikton was the trusted subordinate of the Sect Leader of the Bacchus Cult.

Sikton was the first believer to whom the Sect Leader shared the news that the motion ‘to become independent from the gods’ had been passed in the Theistic Order’s meeting.

On the surface, Sikton pretended to agree with the Theistic Order’s decision while secretly preparing a betrayal.

Bacchus is the god of pleasure and revelry. It was customary to hold a festival before convening any meetings.

Taking advantage of the festival, Sikton laced every member’s cup with poison.

The poison he prepared wasn’t of the neurotoxin or bacterial kind, which allowed him to drink it without harm.

Sikton’s poison was magical nanomachines—clusters of minuscule elemental spirits created by dividing a single spirit into tens or hundreds of thousands.

When the festival ended and the sect’s meeting was about to begin, Sikton issued his command to the tiny elementals.

Having rendered the entire sect comatose, Sikton used their divine energy and other lives within their bodies to conduct a ritual.

This cave where the grand assembly of the Bacchus Cult took place was the location.

‘What an absurd human being.’

Though I’ve come to this world and have neither directly encountered nor heard the voices of the gods…

Would a deity really praise someone who sacrifices their own followers?

Anyway, the situation is clear. I should call Neuro waiting above to search the cave.

As professional hunters, they’ll surely find traces of secret vaults better than I can.

At least better than me.

***

Following Ortes’s guidance, Neuro descended into the deep cavern. Though not luxurious, signs of meticulous preparation were evident. The smoothly carved floors and walls testified to the devotion of Bacchus’s followers.

‘Ortes said he settled things with the enemy’s leader here.’

Inside a stone chamber set aside in the cave, there was indeed a corpse—an old man whose head had been severed from his body.

The purple robe soaked in crimson blood gradually turned from lilac to dark violet as the blood seeped through.

Neuro carefully examined the remains of the Bacchus Cult’s bishop.

‘…There’s none?’

No defensive marks existed that usually result from any resistance or struggle.

Neuro swallowed hard and flipped over the bishop’s head lying in the corner.

The severed head wore a smile, similar to the one Ortes always carried.

Seeing that grin hanging on the severed head made Neuro’s heart race.

No. How could this be possible?

Is it some form of mind-affecting magic?

‘Since he knew how to handle brainwashing magic, he probably would have brainwashed Geryon with authority and force rather than using such methods. The probability that this is a form of mental manipulation magic is low.’

Then how could he make his enemy smile while being decapitated?

Neuro decided against further analyzing the bishop’s corpse. Ortes entrusting him with this scene meant they had built sufficient trust.

And this ‘trust’ likely included knowing what to say and what not to say, what to see and what to overlook.

Neuro thought about himself as a hunter. He had always compared Ortes to a beast.

The most enigmatic beast he knew, and its manager.

But upon reconsideration now, it wasn’t something that could simply be called a beast. Neuro confidently believed that with enough time and budget, he could hunt any beast.

From wyverns, rulers of the skies, including flying dragons, desert death worms, to swarms of mutated mosquitoes influenced by magic stones—Neuro enjoyed hunting those notorious foes that claimed many hunters’ lives.

Ortes, however, was too strange to compare with real-world beasts. More like a mythical monster…

‘Aha.’

Indeed. So that’s why Hydra. The multi-headed water snake from mythology, said to possess the deadliest poison in the world.

If Carisia was the immortal head of Hydra, then Ortes was its venomous fang.

There seemed to be nothing worthwhile to retrieve from the bishop’s corpse. A certain power resided in the grapevine staff, but it was faint.

“Not quite a holy relic. It seems to have received blessings from priests.”

Still, let’s take it. Even a small amount of divine energy is better than nothing.

Starting from Sikton’s ritual site, Neuro moved room by room, touching the side of his gas mask near his ear.

“Director of Holy Investigation. This is Neuro. There’s something that needs confirmation.”

It was for communication.

Neuro discovered a room where dozens of people were arranged grotesquely.

They were members of the Bacchus Cult that Sikton had turned into vegetative states.

***

“What do we do with these bodies?”

“Hmm…”

A sigh escaped involuntarily. Strictly speaking, they aren’t corpses. The nano machines… no. The micro-elemental spirits merely ravaged their brains, putting them in a vegetative state.

Their hearts haven’t stopped, so they’re technically alive. Alive.

“They’ve been attacked by clusters of micro-elemental spirits.”

“What? Elemental poison? If they’d had their livers replaced with enchanted wear, or if they had any ability to manipulate powers, they wouldn’t have been suppressed by the ability fields…”

I showed a gesture of prayer with my hands folded. These people are far removed from anything like enchanted wear.

“…I see. They said that if believers use divine power, the Ten Towers will find them, right? Their instinctive way of life must have ingrained in them the habit of reducing their ability fields. Makes sense that the elemental poison worked.”

“If their brains are damaged, the chances of recovery are almost nonexistent, right?”

“I’ve rarely used elemental poison in hunts, but… it’s pretty much impossible. No use for us.”

KELLOCK!

A cough echoed from the corner.

Neuro immediately drew his bow. Shaking and struggling to crawl toward them was a girl.

“You’re going to kill me. Kill…”

***

The girl looked up at the two figures with blurred vision. One was a masked stranger, the other someone she dared not look at directly, someone whose presence felt irreverent to even lift her head to.

She thought she saw a flash of blue light pass by.

“This is interesting. We thought everyone was in a vegetative state.”

He knelt down, lowering himself to meet her gaze. The blue glow emanated from behind his eyelids. His irises glowed faintly like thin blue threads.

His lips curved upward, but his narrow eyes gave no indication whether he was smiling or not.

As the stranger began to speak, he raised his index finger to his lips, signaling silence. The stranger stepped back.

The smiling man spoke.

“Do you remember what happened?”

“Sikton, Sikton…”

“Yes. Bishop Sikton betrayed the Bacchus Cult. What’s your name?”

“Ki…ne.”

“Kine.”

The smiling man stroked his chin.

“Unfortunately, your family cannot return. Sikton’s poison has penetrated too deeply. You must have had enchanted wear implanted in your body before, right?”

Kine didn’t answer. The haze of pain had suppressed her wariness towards strangers until now.

“Look at your right hand. It doesn’t seem to match perfectly.”

However, the stranger wearing the gas mask quickly noticed the prosthetic hand on Kine’s right arm.

Members of the cult generally rejected enchanted wear as wicked sorcery.

But when young Kine contracted an unknown infection and had to have her right hand amputated, even the elders couldn’t deny her the prosthetic.

Due to financial limitations, they purchased the cheapest available enchanted wear, resulting in a left-hand component being attached to her right arm.

Thus, Kine became the youngest and only member of the Bacchus Cult attending the grand assembly with an enchanted prosthetic.

“Alright, Kine. Who did you want to kill?”

Kine didn’t answer again. She didn’t know how these two were related to Sikton, who had killed everyone.

They had all been so kind: Grandpa Teres, Grandma Agave, Uncle Pentos…

“Could it be this person?”

The smiling man placed a severed head in front of Kine. The strange grin confirmed it belonged to Sikton.

Kine understood everything upon seeing the severed head.

Sikton had undoubtedly conspired with Blasphemia, trading the annihilation of the Bacchus Cult for wealth and power.

Following the contract, he tried to kill everyone, but in his triumphant attempt to claim his promised reward, he was discarded.

“You… you Blasphemia bastards—!!”

Shouting in rage, the girl eventually lost consciousness.

***

“What… intention?”

I shrugged. Neuro’s question was clearly asking why I spared the child.

It was because I recognized this Kine.

The girl mage with mismatched prosthetics—two left hands.

Back in the original story.

“She had talent.”

“Talent?”

If left alone, she would have become an ally of the Wizard King.

“Have you ever heard of corporate scholarships?”

Now she’s our recruit.

***