Chapter 329

(329)

In the forest cloaked in darkness, an ethereal green light shone.

Amid the broad-leaved trees, the sound of wind could be heard.

Shaaaa-.

Justianus lightly stretched out his arms, welcoming the wind spirit.

Small green lights swarmed his body, swirling around him like a swarm.

They resembled dozens of fireflies gathering in lines.

Eventually, the cluster of lights ascended to Justianus’s eye level, pulsed, and a voice carried by the wind reached him.

“Justianus.”

The sound that came the first time was clear but carried a sharp tone, hinting at deep worry.

“Long time no see, friend! Haha.”

The second voice was rough and filled with a cheerful shout.

“Why are you so late? You didn’t sell us out to those infiltrators, did you?”

The third voice was much deeper, mixed with a growl that seemed almost animalistic.

Even though no one was watching, Justianus smiled kindly.

“Elysia. Garin. Hartshi.”

A different kind of ease graced his expression, one that stood in contrast to the formality of ballrooms.

It was the deep bond shared by those chased by the world, those who had no place to let their guard down.

“I’m sorry, all of you. I had to move to another region, so I couldn’t contact you for a while.”

The three voices responded in turn.

“Even once! You didn’t contact us. We were worried, you know.”

Elven Princess Elysia rarely expressed her true feelings so openly.

“Ho ho. But I’m relieved you’re safe anyway.”

Dwarf chieftain Garin was always sincere.

“Hmph. Do you think I’d care whether you live or die, you little worm?”

The human-naga noble Hartshi was predictably sharp-tongued.

To this, Justianus responded with a mischievous chuckle.

“Hmm. I think you do care?”

“Wh-what?!”

A voice that had been low deepened further as it rose.

“If I die, then who will be the one to release you?”

At his words, the wind spirits fell silent.

Shaaa…….

The wind rushing among the trees abruptly stopped.

Justianus patiently waited, as if he had expected this reaction.

Finally, the cluster of lights shone brightly again, and Elysia’s sharp but clear tone could be heard.

“Jus…tian. Joking like that isn’t right.”

She insisted on shortening his name to match the syllables of her own—”Justia.”

He recalled her small quirk and shook his head calmly.

“You think I’m joking?”

Uuung.

The cluster of lights glowed fiercely.

“I don’t plan to leave you like this forever. A thousand years have passed. A thousand years. Many people now think of you as characters from fairy tales.”

“……”

“I’m not saying the past is just the past.”

Because if that were so, Jeilliris’s coronation would also become nothing but the past.

“But I believe a thousand years is enough time to accept that past.”

Elysia hesitated in her response.

“……We live long lives. Even our elders may fear you.”

“It doesn’t matter. I need to show trust first. I’ll be the one regretting it, but I promise that I will take down the emperor who defiled his bloodline and avenge His Majesty and Her Majesty.”

His voice was infinitely determined and sharp.

“And then I’ll seek your help, and I’ll give the glory of establishing justice in the empire to you.”

It may not be easy, but he was someone who would do it even if it were.

This was the driving force that, in his previous life, made him endlessly challenge the reckless Valenciaunos and tyrant Jeilliris.

He had never once thought that achieving his goal would be easy.

“There will surely be an opportunity. When it comes, I’ll call you to the capital. Until then, stay hidden and build up your strength.”

Silence filled the air once more.

“……”

For the three heterogeneous races, it was like a dream.

The capital Silentalouon.

One of the world-renowned great cities, despite the countless infiltration attempts that thrived unceasingly—due to the absence of autonomous governance—it had not been captured by external forces even once in a thousand years.

It was a story no one wanted to undertake, no one dared to attempt.

The silence was broken by Dwarf Chieftain Garin.

“Yeah! That’s why I like you, kid. Listening to you makes my heart race. I’ll prepare well! So you absolutely can’t die, got it?”

“Right. Garin. I have no intention of dying. I have things to do.”

“If you’re sacrificing our warriors with some ridiculous plan, I won’t stay quiet about it.”

“Of course not. Hartshi. We’re friends, allies. I’ll never consume any of you. If someone has to sacrifice, it will be me.”

“Hmph…”

Hartshi blew his nose lightly, and Justianus, recognizing it as a sign of embarrassment, ended the conversation without pushing further.

“I should head back. The meeting time will be soon.”

Elysia’s voice reached out as though her words could grab his sleeve.

“Right. Justia. Absolutely don’t succumb to corruption.”

Justianus willingly extended his sleeve.

“Naturally. Elysia. I’ll contact you again.”

* * *

The night in the small southern town was pitch black and quiet.

Even the capital Silentalouon had not finished installing streetlights.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Clang! Clang!

The only ones moving through the dark streets were the night watchmen, and the only sound that could be heard was the barking of hunting dogs.

Justianus walked calmly through the dark streets, dismissing both with a smirk.

The recognition-reducing magic attached to his robe was advanced enough that even someone standing right in front of him wouldn’t be able to discern his form.

Of course, a Sword User could probably detect his presence but finding one acting as a night watchman in such a minor town was highly unlikely.

‘In the capital’s Street of Learning, Sword Users would always gather to brawl.’

For a moment, he reminisced about the familiar scenery of his hometown and stopped in front of the back door of a house.

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

He knocked on the door in a set rhythm, and soon it creaked open slightly.

Squeak.

Five tentacles with eyes at their ends cautiously emerged from beneath and checked his identity. Only afterward did the door fully open.

“Please head upstairs.”

“Got it.”

On the wall behind the door was what looked like a patch of flesh. Its role was to pierce the ankles of anyone unrecognized with needles and signal upstairs.

Once, it too was human.

Justianus climbed the narrow wooden stairs without showing any disgust.

Squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak.

‘The network is convenient for maintaining secrecy.’

‘If you have one or two local collaborators, you can establish a stable base and attract faithful followers. If the church discovers the operation, it will only eliminate the relevant branch.’

‘Priests can always be remade, but bishops are difficult to capture unless absolutely necessary. One bishop can manage hundreds of locations with minimal visits.’

Justianus climbed casually to the second floor.

On the second floor, aside from a few hanging candles, there was almost nothing, only a long table stretched out continuously.

At the far end of the table sat his superior, an infiltrator bishop, with eight infiltrator priests in charge of the local congregation gathered around the same table.

All were dressed in thick robes, wore tall pointed hoods, and their faces were invisible.

“The interruption of Cuith Az fragment supplies is catastrophic. Communication and the movement of the bishops has slowed down too much.”

“It was unfortunate that Valenciaunos was the one to take it. If Ensus had moved just a little faster, it would have been better. ”

“If Ranxo had acted timely, it would have been much more advantageous.”

Even as a massive organization of infiltrators, their meeting scenario differed little from that of an ordinary organization.

As the priests listed issues to the bishop, the bishop in turn discussed solutions.

“Changing our system of communication and movement immediately is not easy right now. We must focus on additional resources. We should target the Ivory Tower through Alchemist Vendors. Recruiting a couple of mages as allies won’t be too difficult.”

Their evil didn’t stem from the style of their meetings, but from the content and methods discussed.

“In the process, manpower may be consumed…but our priests have already managed this well.”

“Yes. There are many faithful followers in this region.”

“Surely, One will be pleased to know this.”

The priests glanced at the adjacent tables.

They were tightly packed with hooded infiltrators who were not priests or knights but trainees merely observing the meeting out of respect.

“You are late, Bishop.”

Justianus ignored the trainees and approached behind the bishop.

“To practice becoming an infiltrator? To strive to become a monster who retains sanity?”

Such words didn’t fit into his concept of discipline or effort.

What kind of greeting was this to those who deserved to be fried alive in oil?

“No. You are perfectly on time. Our agenda just ended.”

The bishop answered without turning around, a sign that the meeting wasn’t over yet.

“Now, let’s all pray to the One.”

At the bishop’s words, the trainees visibly brightened.

The gap between priests and knights was immense, and the climb from priest to bishop was even more daunting.

The opportunity to pray alongside a bishop was a great honor.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Knights waiting in the corner carried the day’s prayer offerings onto the tables.

Young people, their wrists and ankles bound, mouths gagged.

“Ugh, ugh!”

The darkness inside the bishop’s hood wavered, and a voice like dozens of people murmuring simultaneously could be heard.

“!”

“!!!”

The infiltrator trainees joined in the chanting.

The 2nd floor filled with a voice that no human could pronounce; a savage and evil voice.

* * *

Justianus struggled to maintain a poker face while they prayed.

His subjects were screaming, white smoke escaping from their noses and mouths, their bodies slowly melting away.

“Ah!”

“One!”

The trainees brought the melted human flesh to their lips.

Justianus desperately wanted to draw his sword and strike the bishop on the back of the head.

“Great One, if you are a deity, do you truly desire the worship of such beings?”

Only the resolve to annihilate Jeilliris and the infiltration sect kept both his sanity and instincts in check.

Crack.

He’d gripped his fist so tightly that his nails pierced his palm.

A few drops of blood hit the floor.

Knights at the corner glanced at him curiously.

Then a trainee named Pol looked directly at Justianus.

“Brother, why don’t you wear a hood or offer prayer?”

Wearing a hood symbolized concealing one’s increasingly inhuman features while simultaneously symbolizing the doctrine of equality among worshippers under One.

Prayer was, needless to say, of utmost importance in the “sect” of infiltration.

That Justianus not only kept his hood off, revealing a handsome face and bright eyes, but also stood there coldly observing without praying was enough to provoke resentment from devout trainees like Pol, a promising trainee nearly ready to become a knight, greatly recognized for sitting alongside the priests, and thrilled by the fact that he prayed alongside the bishop.

“You don’t seem to feel the One’s presence much, do you? Have you really offered your existence?”

Thinking to himself that he’d like to kill Pol, Justianus replied.

“I’m not a member of the sect but its collaborator. If I were to pray and strive for unity to One, I’d lose my ability to work for the sect.”

As Pol grabbed a handful of the victim’s melting flesh, he spoke.

“Hmph. The ones who always talk like that end up as traitors. Could you be a spy from the Church or the Lord?”

Pahk!

Then Justianus threw his gauntlet at Pol’s face.

“You dare to insult my faith?”

The gauntlet clattered to the floor.

Pol glanced at the priest, the priest at the bishop.

The bishop nodded slightly, and Pol began to mutate.

Clack, clack crack!

“You’ll regret this.”

From his body sprouted an exoskeleton, his arms doubled in thickness, and his jaw split and extended outwards.

Swish!

Justianus unsheathed his sword in response.

“Yeah. You’ll regret it.”

He harbored a secret, one he had told no one and could tell no one.

Since the days he began following the bishop, his sword skills had improbably grown rapidly.

Memories of things he definitely hadn’t experienced himself began to resurface sporadically.

It was also due to this that he could maintain contact with the three heterogeneous races and form quick friendships with them.

‘This is going with you. Success or failure, this is with you.’

‘This is the secret only you know.’

‘The shame of bloodlines!’

Alliances of high nobles, military command, long-lasting struggles, magic he had never learned, friendships he had never shared, comrades who were no longer beside him, the forty-year long duel with his reckless elder brother in the imperial family…

It was all becoming clearer, piece by piece.

“You can’t defeat me with your level.”