Episode 176: Abduction of the Saint
Unterland is a nation that has developed based on “magical engineering,” which reengineers the knowledge of warriors from a scientifically advanced world in a Paraiso-like style.
The culmination of this collective intelligence is the flying fortress and capital of Unterland, Leviathan.
Citizens living in this Leviathan are considered first-class citizens, while those who remain on the ground, extracting resources or producing weapons to sustain Leviathan, are second-class citizens.
As a country with such distinct features, Unterland has its own unique characteristics that are unseen in other countries.
Implicit conflicts between the heroes and the native inhabitants.
Heroes, for several reasons, holding many high-ranking positions.
The overly concentrated defense system of the floating fortress.
The benefits of technological advancements not reaching the cities on the ground.
The resulting disparity in living standards among citizens.
The deterioration of the ground cities into slums.
And various other known disgraces.
Even as a mere day laborer, I can see that this country is messed up in many ways.
A barren land of nothing but wilderness and deserts. Plus, sporadic appearances of Demon Kings threaten the safety of the citizens, leading to the creation of the aerial fortress Leviathan. Though its original intent was to protect the people, it now seems to only safeguard the elites, showing no interest in the ground-level populace exposed to danger.
All the advanced technologies of Unterland are enjoyed exclusively within the flying fortress, causing a severe technological gap with the ground level.
In simpler terms, it is a Mad Max world with an SF utopia floating above. Unfortunately, this utopia consumes massive amounts of resources, worsening the already tough lives of those living like Mad Max characters below.
To put it harshly, it’s a ridiculous mess, and even putting it mildly, it’s still pathetic.
By now, the ground and the Leviathan of Unterland might as well be considered two entirely different worlds.
Their perceptions, technological levels, and living standards differ entirely in every aspect.
So it makes sense that the second-class citizens of Unterland sometimes engage in unimaginably outrageous behaviors, reminiscent of Mad Max scenarios.
The largest ghetto of Unterland, just near the Valley of the Dead where plagues spread—this is where I am currently staying. In the Gaissers district, such incidents are currently in full swing.
And here’s something even more bizarre: demon worship evolving into Demon King Zadkiel worship.
This is the center of a repurposed, wrecked circus tent serving as a speaking platform.
Murmurs and whispers fill the air.
In front of a giant stage, hundreds of raggedly dressed civilians are densely gathered in the audience.
“…”
Hundredsof pairs of eyes stare at the podium, brimming with both anxiety and hope.
All of them share a common characteristic: parts of their bodies are covered with smooth chitinous scales akin to insects, insect-like limbs twitch, and some grotesquely swollen lumps quiver and twitch.
They are victims of the mysterious plague spreading from the Valley of the Dead, known as the Black Blood Disease.
“Thank you for waiting, loyal believers!”
And then—boom!
The decrepit magic lamps on the ceiling flicker to life. The stage is bathed in pulsing light. The people shed tears of emotion upon seeing the figures that appear under the light, and they clap their hands in jubilation.
“Wowwwww!”
On the dimly lit stage, there is a grotesque creature, looking like a hybrid of insects and men, bound to a chair and writhing.
Next to it, a rotund man in white robes with a clown-like mask stands beside a woman clad in a highly revealing modified nun’s gown who seems nervous.
“Dear fellow believers, let me introduce the one you’ve all been eagerly awaiting!”
The masked man declaims in a solemn voice. The applause from the hundreds of listeners quiets into silence.
Pointing to himself and then the nun, the masked man continues dramatically.
“I am Simeon Birgen Gors, the pastor of the Miracle Sharing Festival. And the person beside me is—!” He pauses for dramatic effect, “The last bloodline of the ancient Saint of Shultez, the reincarnation of the Angel of Salvation and the final prophet, Miracle-Bearing Angel, Lady Yuria Rueva!”
As soon as the introduction ends, thunderous applause and cheers erupt.
This is the most enthusiastic crowd one could call “zealots.”
Though most reactions stem from genuine desperation, there are also occasional glinting gazes of sinister desire.
“…”
Each time that heated gaze lands on her, the young woman shivers as if burned by the touch of a branding iron.
Her eyes are brimming with tears. She seems desperately trying to hold back her sobs, clearly showing extreme discomfort toward this setup.
“Haha! Thank you, my friends! With the grace of Lord Zadkiel!”
In the feverish uproar, the masked man nods contentedly while the nun keeps trying desperately to cover exposed parts of her attire and hangs her head.
“Hm.”
I, standing by the tent’s entrance, observe the scene and quickly perform the Eye of Mimir.
[Name: Simeon Birgen Gors]
[Nickname: Head of Salvation Church]
[Level: 3]
[Health: 180/180 Magic: 100/100 Status: Normal]
[Strength: 13 Agility: 6 Intelligence: 15]
[Name: Yuria Rueva]
[Nickname: Reincarnation of Salvation Church’s Saint, Descendant of the Saint’s Bloodline, The Last Prophet, Miracle-Bearing Angel]
[Level: 25]
[Health: 50/110 Magic: 450/450 Status: Hunger, Thirst, Weakness]
[Strength: 3 Agility: 5 Intelligence: 71]
Now it’s clear.
Here we are at the congregation of the heretical Salvation Church that’s currently popular in Gaissers.
‘The rumors were true then.’
In the southern part of Unterland’s Gaissers region, which was until the outbreak of Black Blood Disease, a critical hub for military supplies and one of the most commercially active areas.
Now, it’s a city of patients where the plague sparsely spreads, essentially a lawless slum.
Anyway, Jung Yong. If you want to kill Zadkiel, you will need the power of my lineage. It’s faster to find my descendant first.
I was about to head into the Valley of the Dead to rip Zadkiel’s head off immediately, but Elder Brother Sooho said this upon my arrival in Gaissers.
Summarizing Elder Brother Sooho’s explanation would be something like this.
Hundreds of years ago, during a dire time when the world’s survival was at stakes, Knight Sooho of the Witch, despite being respected by all, engaged in a relationship with the Saint of Prophecy from Fraisha. And they went all the way.
The Saint bore a child of Hansooho. As a result, the Saint was exiled, and descendants of this lineage have survived somewhere in this Gaissers region.
And also, Demon King Zadkiel is surrounded by illusions and dream barriers. To approach Zadkiel smoothly, it will be necessary to have the power of “The Eye of Insight,” which the bloodline of the Saint holds.
So, finding the bloodline of Elder Brother Sooho, or more precisely, the descendants of the Saint—is my mission.
I’ve spent months gathering information related to Zadkiel and the descendant of the Saint, spending quite some time wandering around Gaissers.
And I’ve finally stumbled upon an unusual rumor.
In the cult of Salvation Church that worships Demon King Zadkiel as a deity, it is said that the reincarnating saint is healing the victims of Black Blood Disease with their insect transformations.
I observed the woman introduced as the Reincarnation of the Saint carefully.
‘That’s the Saint?’
The outfit is simply extraordinary.
A dominantly white nun’s habit, black stockings, and a garter belt that reveals quite much as the flowing fabric barely conceals the curves of her body.
If nothing else, at least the head of the church, Simeon, seems to have a good sense of style.
‘… No. That’s not the point, damn it.’
Other characteristics to mention: a late teenage to early twenties appearance, a slim frame, short black hair.
Interestingly, her skin carries the distinct pale-yellow hue of Eurasian mixed-race individuals, with silver-white irises.
‘That’s it.’
With a Eurasian background, black hair, and silver eyes, it matches the features Elder Brother Sooho had described about the ancient Saint.
That must be the descendant of the Elder Brother I’ve been searching for, the true bloodline of the Saint.
I have no clue why she’s being exploited by this heretical religion.
Tsk. Tragic, isn’t it? How could you end up like this? Look at how they treat her. Has she even been eating properly?
A faint sound of dissatisfaction reached my ears from my waist. It appears that Elder Brother Sooho, witnessing the unfortunate plight of their far-off descendant, sighs.
Judging from the thin build of the Saint, she doesn’t seem to be eating well either personally.
“Dear comrades, the sick of our beloved Unterland! Thank you for waiting!”
Just then, Simeon continued the gathering.
“I will now show you the miracle of the resurrected saint endowed by Lord Zadkiel!”
Simeon motioned with his chin towards Yuria standing stiffly.
Yuria abruptly raised her head and then hesitantly approached the grotesque man bound to the chair.
“Uhh, ugh…!”
Yuria, staring at the man with eyes filled with fear and guilt, is unable to bring her trembling hand close. Her hand shakes like the quivering leaves of a tree.
I immediately realize. Her fear is not directed towards the bound patient but towards Simeon.
“Come on, Saint! Quick! Do the miracle!!”
Simeon urges the hesitating Yuria, who winces as if burned by fire.
She then firmly closes her eyes and places her hand on the shoulder of the man.
Tears roll down her cheeks.
“Please, dear friends, focus your attention on our bound sick friend!”
PAHHH!
As Yuria touches the area, a dazzling light engulfs it, and soon the dim tent is illuminated with brilliance.
And, it happens—just like that. All the insect-like chitinous scales that once clung to the man fall off slimily.
“OOOOOOH!!”
The people witness this and clasp their hands in awe.
Countless individuals prostrate themselves, weeping uncontrollably.
“Dear friends, what is your Lord? The name we yearn and cry for through many long years!”
Amidst the wave of profound emotion, Simeon perfectly timed raising his hands high and raising his voice to the fullest.
In the overpowering silence, the audience’s attention is, of course, at its peak.
“Is your Lord the so-called savior who only mouths salvation? No! Are they the rulers of Leviathan and Unterland who merely oversee and burden you with toil? No!!”
Simeon then grabs Yuria’s hand and raises it high.
The faint tattoo on the back of Yuria’s hand becomes clearly visible under the spotlight.
“Huh. That insignia?”
I open my eyes wide and inspect it closely. I immediately check the saint’s insignia from my pouch.
Indeed, the same insignia is engraved there.
“Your Lord, friends, refers to the paradise of Lord Zadkiel!”
As Simeon finishes his impassioned speech, he grasps the shoulder of the man still bound to the chair. The man, now free from the insect shell, sobs and clings to Simeon.
The cries of joy from the moved crowd echo throughout.
“Wowwwwwww!! Simeon! Simeon! Simeon!”
People’s enthusiasm reaches its highest peak.
The tent interior has heated up significantly. The hysteria level has now even made me wary.
“Hu… uhhh… hhuhh…!!”
Yuria on the stage also seems overwhelmed by this hysteria, shivering continuously.
Her tears show no sign of stopping now. She cries loudly and continuously.
‘Now.’
It’s time to expose the tricks of this heretical cult leader and bring about the end of this absurd performance.
KWAANG! I roll the floor forcefully, spreading seismic waves across.
“Stop your nonsense!”
The atmosphere instantly freezes. All eyes turn to me.
I slowly push through the crowd, parting them easily like Moses’ miracle due to the Shadow Dispersal Technique I’ve used.
“Who the hell are you calling Lord? You’re just making shit up.”
Immediately after my cold remark, shadow chains are launched toward the stage at lightning speed.
The chains slither like an octopus and tightly bind the man in the chair along with the insect chitin he has discarded.
And one more person.
“Uh…? How, how…?!”
I swiftly catch the weak magician hiding behind the stage with the Transparency Spell.
How the fuck you ask? I detected it with attention magic, dumbass. I’m the swift deliverance and justice itself.
“Khuhuh…”
The magician lets out a choking sound as the chain tightly restrains all his joints. The people are suddenly shocked by the mysterious magician’s emergence.
I sneer as I watch Simeon step back.
“Hey. Is this what you consider a Lord? Sneaking around like a thief with transparency spells, faking light magic, and ripping off the fake insect shells—do you think that’s about Zadkiel?”
The people gathered here are all commoners, their levels not exceeding 10. The amateurish tricks of the weak magician easily deceive these uninformed natives.
Therefore, this big-bellied cult leader can perform such cheap tricks while the desperate patients fall helplessly for it.
“Uh… Guaak…!”
I glare at the magician and manipulate the chains.
Floating in the air, the low-level magician’s neck twists as if it were a toy.
“You should go meet your Lord already. I’ll send you.”
As the chains disappear, the magician’s corpse thuds heavily onto the ground.
Chhk chhk chhk. Blood spurts from the magician’s twisted neck like a broken faucet and begins to spread slowly across the floor.
“Uh, Aaaaaaahhhh!!”
“Kiaaakkk!!”
People’s faces turn pale. Chaos ensues immediately, and cries ring out as people flee in disorder.
Meanwhile, I keep walking straight toward the stage.
“I’ve come here today to punish you for deceiving the sick and citizens through falsehoods.”
There are two types of people I dislike most in this world.
One is a sucker like me. The other is scum who takes advantage of suckers.
“I’m Park Jeong-yong.”
In truth, I only need the bloodline of the Saint. Such antics just draw attention and cause trouble.
But using the desperation of people, letting this pot-bellied charlatan get away freely…?
Fuck no. As the representative of suckers from my Earth, I can’t let that happen.
“Advance guard! Advance guard!! Protect me quickly!”
As Simeon shouts, armed forces surrounding the stage rush toward me.
At best just level 100 thugs. They’re so laughable it makes me want to cry.
“Hmm.”
SWISH! The harshly flapping cloak turns into giant crow wings.
I soar through the air towards Simeon’s neck at lightning speed.
“Come for meee!!”
It took about 30 minutes to destroy the Salvation Church.
Finishing up roughly and taking dizzy Yuria with me, I head toward the exit of the tent.
Right at that moment, a woman trying to enter the tent bumps straight into me.
“Oops. Excuse me, excuse me…!”
The woman immediately showers me with apologies upon contact.
She’s a common sight in the slums of Gaissers. Her ragged appearance emits a strong odor, and her overall frame appears frail.
Although she seems intact, the baby she holds has a left eye that resembles a blue compound insect eye, a sign of Black Blood Disease.
I can’t help but frown.
“Oh, that… Hello there.”
The woman smiles awkwardly while bowing deeply, likely mistaking me for a high-ranking affiliate of Salvation Church based on her humble demeanor.
She then peeks over my shoulder at the tent, speaking intermittently.
“I, our baby… A week ago, his eye started getting strange… I heard there’s a miracle festival by the Salvation Church here… Is there such a festival?”
Her eyes brim with desperate hope. Coincidentally, the baby also coos.
It is a scam by Simeon or Sim Yeong, whichever moron it is. Why does it fall to me to tell people the X-rated truth?
My frown deepens naturally.
“It’s not a festival; it’s a funeral.”
I toss aside what I’m holding near the woman. It’s the head of the false preacher Simeon.
Mr. Simeon, why have you returned just your head?
“Hu, hiiik?!”
The woman collapses in shock, hugging her baby tightly and trembling out of fright.
I simply give the slightest bow and quickly leave the scene, dragging Yuria’s wrist who was following quietly from a distance.
“Uh, uh. Aaah!”
Yuria frantically tries to pull her hand away but I don’t let go.
After walking for a while, far enough to leave the congregation tent, I finally release her as desired.
“Whoa?”
Thud.
Yuria falls to the floor, unable to bear her momentum of resistance. She tries to stand while rubbing her bottom but a long gurgling noise echoes from her belly.
Flicking her head upward, Yuria bows while clutching her stomach.
“Let’s get something to eat first?”
I say so dismissingly, but Yuria’s head shoots up vigorously.
Even without words, her agreement is evident.
