Chapter 148

Demos had returned to the Theistic Order. From his perspective, it had been a highly profitable trip.

First and foremost was the last descendant of the Bacchus Cult. Despite the burden of being the sole survivor of the cult, she was remarkably bold, and her skills matched her audacity.

Suddenly, a mysterious assailant appeared, accusing them of being superstitious followers and exposing them to public scrutiny. At that moment, Demos realized things had taken a serious turn.

There was an intuition that fatalities might occur here. It was inevitable that sacrifices would accompany the escape of priests surrounded by magicians.

However, Kine overturned this inevitability.

Though it wasn’t clear exactly what happened, the hostility of the magicians abruptly shifted. Even Demos himself hadn’t initially recognized the manifestation of divine power due to its unconventional use.

The only thing he could sense was the scent of alcohol lingering in the air—a hallmark of the Bacchus Cult. A remarkable ability to charm groups of magicians in an instant while simultaneously concealing the fluctuations of divine power.

This made Demos question Ortes’s intentions, whether he was trying to privatize the Bacchus Cult under the guise of protecting survivors.

Of course, this wasn’t the case. Even after arriving in Algus City and teaching Kine the use of sacred artifacts himself, he knew her level of skill couldn’t be achieved through just a few days of special training.

Ortes was genuinely doing everything possible to educate the successor of the Bacchus Cult.

Perhaps neither the faction of the Divine Maiden nor the faction of the Pope truly represented the path for the Theistic Order.

Through the excavation of relics within the Pluto Temple, the Pope’s plans were already more than halfway complete. As a cleric, Demos fully understood the Divine Maiden’s aversion to the Pope’s schemes.

But opposing an ongoing plan now seemed like opposition for opposition’s sake. While the temple might empower the sect, they could also receive divine power from the Pope’s creations.

If both sides had strayed from righteousness, why not use both? At least until they could overthrow their immediate greatest enemy—the Ten Towers and the Wizard King foretold by the prophet of Phobos.

At least, that’s how Demos thought as the Sect Leader of the War God. Whether the way of the Divine Maiden or the Pope, all available means should be used to fight.

Satisfied with these thoughts, Demos returned to the order and reported. The extinction of the mental parasite seemed certain.

Rarely did the Pope request a private meeting, but when he did, Demos accepted willingly.

“So, the mental parasite is extinct, you say?”

The Pope asked gently about the ‘parable’ the mental parasite had attempted to enact. Though Demos hadn’t directly participated in the final battle, he answered sincerely with information about magical resonance and spatial distortions.

“Indeed. Ultimately, it distorted space, you say.”

“To be precise, it wasn’t the ‘final stage.’ It was engulfed in an explosion before completing the parable.”

“And what was the nature of that explosion?”

“According to Ortes, it was a result of the mental parasite’s space magic colliding with the president of Hydra Corp’s—”

In that instant, Demos recalled a moment in the garden where he encountered someone. The fear of the Ten Sages. The authority cloaked in human form.

“Are you alright, Sect Leader Demos?”

The Pope’s calm voice snapped him back. After all, Carisia’s identity wasn’t important. What mattered was that she was allied with Ortes, and Ortes was allied with the Theistic Order.

“Oh, nothing. I was just reconsidering. The scale of the explosion seemed too large to simply be a backlash between magics. According to Hydra Corp’s president, some kind of spell was involved. My guess is that two spatial magics clashed, causing an overload.”

“I see. Thank you.”

It wasn’t clear what the Pope was thanking him for. As the Pope rose to leave, Demos found himself speaking without thinking.

“Why don’t we stop now?”

“Stop what, precisely?”

“The conflict between you and the Divine Maiden. In my view, both of you have your own strengths and weaknesses. It’s hard to confidently say one path is correct over the other. Why not take both paths and maximize their strengths?”

The Pope smiled faintly, so subtly it seemed it would vanish at any moment.

“If that child wishes it, I am prepared to end this conflict anytime.”

With that, the Pope stood and gradually disappeared. He must have teleported back to his quarters.

That ability was even mysterious to emissaries of the Theistic Order.

“If the Divine Maiden wishes it…”

As the proverb goes in the forge of the god Poliphron: “Strike while the iron is hot.” With that in mind, Demos moved to meet the Divine Maiden.

It was time to put an end to this meaningless internal strife.

***

In the final moments, Nastiorn lost roughly 30% of his mass to Ortes’ high-frequency blade and barely managed to utter “The name of our adversary is Ortes…” before collapsing upon reaching headquarters.

When he regained consciousness, Nastiorn instinctively realized he would face the wrath and hatred of Haltos and the many officers of Argeyirion.

He had judged Haltos’ decision as irrational and opposed the deployment of top-tier forces. The responsibility for Sprigo’s loss lay squarely on Nastiorn.

Argeyirion would not forgive Nastiorn for failing to suppress the resurgence of their adversary during the initial response.

Once again, Nastiorn had to admit his assumptions were wrong.

Other officers of Argeyirion didn’t reproach him.

If anything, instead of gloating, “See, the adversary really existed!” they merely tapped his back or shoulders in silence, or quietly whispered, “You’re fine,” though it wasn’t clear why he should be.

Each time he heard the unconvincing reassurance that “Anyone could’ve done that,” Nastiorn’s self-loathing deepened.

“All adversaries can do that.” The senior officers of Argeyirion seemed to agree vehemently with this single proposition.

Nastiorn, who had sown seeds of division and delusion, now felt a headache intensifying. His self-loathing reached its peak thanks to Haltos.

At a grand assembly attended by every available officer of Argeyirion, Haltos loudly declared:

“Behold, comrades! Comrade Nastiorn has failed! Alagus City has been devastated beyond the reach of our teachings.”

At this point, Nastiorn prepared for self-criticism, ready to accept blame as the main culprit for disobeying the supreme commander and causing unnecessary losses.

“But he succeeded beyond failure! He accomplished something none of us could!”

While Nastiorn was bewildered, Haltos shouted with fervor:

“He uncovered the name of our adversary!”

Thunderous applause filled the hall. Amid countless handshake requests, Nastiorn’s vision—though he technically had no eyes—went dark.

Just a name. It seemed like common sense and reason had gone on leave, leaving behind this bizarre scene.

“Nastiorn.”

Haltos’ voice interrupted Nastiorn’s thoughts.

“Let me ask again. This is crucial. Is it absolutely true that the superstitious followers were under the protection of Hydra Corporation through Ortes?”

“Yes. If they used the artifact of the Hunting God, there would undoubtedly have been a recharge period. Clearly, there was a group of priests capable of using tracking sanctums powered by divine energy.”

“I’ve reviewed the recorded footage of the situation. Can you explain why the magicians attacked you instead of the exposed superstitious followers?”

“It was… likely due to some spell triggered by the absurd word shouted by Kine, Ortes’ bodyguard stationed near Tavning’s Cnemon. I cannot identify the exact nature of the magic.”

“The magic seems to have acted on the mental plane, based on my assessment.”

“Hmm.”

Haltos frowned. Ortes commanded a powerful magical corporation under his control and had secretly allied with the superstitious followers.

Ortes and Argeyirion were sworn enemies.

“Our enemies wouldn’t be unaware of the rumor that we are allies with the superstitious followers.”

“…Do you suspect the Theistic Order deliberately spread such rumors?”

“No. It must have been Ortes manipulating the Theistic Order. To conceal the sect’s activities under our shadow. And to hide us under the sect’s shadow. We must acknowledge that plan has failed.”

Haltos considered the various peculiar situations surrounding Argeyirion. The leaks and failures of plans. The accusations against tower masters who weren’t even recruited.

Above all else,

“Tarlo…”

The assassination of the elder of the Silver Iron Tower.

All questions unraveled. If Ortes was behind all these incidents, the outcomes became clear.

“Nastiorn.”

“Yes.”

“How far along is our plan to open the dimensional gate?”

“We originally needed data from the mental parasite’s parable, but my defeat prevented proper collection. Considering this, I’d estimate about seventy-six percent completion.”

“Is that so? Twenty-four percent…”

More than enough leeway for Ortes to turn the tables.

“Perhaps this time, we’ll flip the board ourselves.”

Now, they were truly ready to face their great adversary.