Chapter 56

“Without even listening to the explanation?”

“It’s to save Anne. Ugh, if I can be of any help…”

“Don’t worry too much. It’s not that difficult.”

056

The Spider’s Web (Part 2)

He couldn’t kill her.

The sweet and thrilling completion of tragedy was right before his eyes. The play he had put so much effort into was finally coming to an end, and Louis was ready to savor the feast he had prepared for himself.

But as he stood before the set table, fork and knife in hand, a napkin around his neck, he stopped.

The Inquisition Judge, backed by Ailim, lay powerless and wretched before him. Louis knew it too. This was a one-time opportunity. If he didn’t kill her here, she would return as his adversary.

From any perspective, killing her was the right choice. A decision with no loss and only gain. But his body refused to obey.

Death.

It stopped before it could reach her.

=Hah… Hahaha. Well, maybe this is better.=

He swung his scythe in the air. He thrust his chin forward as if to bite her neck. Even if he couldn’t decapitate her, he hoped the poison on the blade would melt her weakened body. But the self-proclaimed almighty god couldn’t fulfill even a fraction of his will.

He laughed heartily, but his voice was laced with undeniable rage and hatred.

Her tattered body, the blood already spilled beyond a lethal dose, the muscles torn to shreds—all signs pointed to her death.

Yet Louis, Louis Laube, knew with divine intuition. Anne would not die. Even in such a wretched state, she would claw her way back to life and return to face him again.

Knowing all this, Louis had no choice but to retreat. Like a pitiful villain, he cursed and exited the stage.

The heretics, even the young heretics, froze when he ordered Anne’s death. It was as if ‘he himself’ vehemently refused Anne’s death.

In the end, he couldn’t shake it off. Leaving behind future troubles, he had no choice but to leave the mansion. Louis knew. He would soon regret this choice. Knowing this, yet unable to do anything, he had no choice but to walk away.

A mere human had defied the divine will.

=If you don’t want to kill, then save her.=

Louis Laube muttered to himself. It was a message not to others, but to ‘himself.’

=Save her, let her live, and make her see how merciful my choice was.=

It was clearly mercy. At least, in Laube’s mind.

He understood the ugly nature of humans. Would Anne be happy to survive, not killed by her lover? She was an Inquisition Judge. A judge who had a heretic as a lover, who sent the heretic away with unreasonable demands, and who couldn’t even stop the heretic’s rise.

Such a stain. Wouldn’t it be better to die?

Ailim knows the love and mercy they preach. Boiling the eldest’s thigh to save the starving youngest is love, and mercifully killing the eldest, who would live a painful life with a limp, is mercy.

Laube, too, sought to show mercy, albeit with a touch—or rather, a heavy dose—of personal sentiment.

=The one you love will now be loved by no one, and belong to nothing.=

Even if Anne showed no signs of Laube’s influence, even if Ailim’s blessing still lingered on her, Anne would now be treated no differently from a heretic. Her crime was that grave.

The Inquisition Temple would etch the faded lesson anew. The reformatory might continue to take in sinners, but it would never release them. The other Laubes would never escape.

=What does it matter?=

Louis laughed cheerfully.

Thanks to one girl’s foolishness and arrogance, he was now free.

=Oh, how pitiful your defense of love is. Of course, I can’t shed tears. Kahaha!=

The screams from within his hardened heart only heightened Louis’ ecstasy.

Leaving Anne behind, he stepped out of the mansion. The space that seemed gloomy to other visitors suited him perfectly. This shadowy place was his domain. Laube opened the door with a smile.

The meat lying by the door had long been gnawed away. Only the dark red stains in the hallway remained as evidence of a life once lived. Stepping lightly over it, he moved forward.

=Ah, sweet world!=

His loud voice at the door drew people’s attention. Perhaps it wasn’t the volume, but the inherent repulsion in Laube’s voice.

What they saw was a giant with a shadow as tall as the mansion.

The jaws of a beetle, the legs of a spider, the scythe of a mantis, the carapace of a black beetle, the poison of a venomous insect—a being that seemed to combine all the many-legged abominations of the world into one. And of course, the most abominable of them all: humans.

“Kyaaaaah!”

“It’s a monster, a demon!”

Louis didn’t bother chasing the fleeing people. His six red eyes gleamed as he watched their retreating figures.

Soon, as Louis theatrically spread his six forelegs—or arms—the entire mansion began to shake violently. As if an invisible giant were shaking a toy house, the roof collapsed, and the windows, rattling wildly, were torn off and forced open.

And from the darkness, the horde of heretics, Laube’s minions, poured out.

=Hahahaha.=

The inorganic laughter and the fluttering of insect wings began to fill the quiet neighborhood. The sun still hung high, watching over all, yet somehow the world seemed darker. As if shadows had fallen everywhere.

=What is sin?=

Louis walked leisurely. There were no worthy prey in this city for him to swing his scythe at. After all, he hadn’t even taken a bite of the most satisfying feast.

Since the master didn’t partake, the dishes on the table all went to the servants. Humans, still retaining their former appearances, approached with hunched and creaking steps. Some quickly caught on and attacked, while others, oblivious, allowed the approach.

The result was the same. Crack! Heads caved in, flesh splattered, and beneath it all, instead of bone, shiny black carapaces were revealed. Fangs grew long, turning into stag beetle jaws, and Laube’s minions, with their glittering compound eyes, pounced.

Ordinary people couldn’t handle even the young heretics, let alone the full-fledged ones. Those who had even a fragment of divine blessing, though not at the level of consuming the Holy Body, had gathered at the mansion to monitor Louis, only to end up in his maw.

=Now, don’t look away. Watch closely.=

At least at this moment, in this city, no one could stop the heretics’ advance.

Why were the heretics so reviled? Why had François so vehemently opposed Anne’s decision to let Louis go?

The Inquisition Judges, those who had consumed the Holy Body, were superhuman, but still individuals. They could swing their swords and topple walls, but they couldn’t destroy an entire city. No matter how strong, they were still human, and their influence didn’t extend beyond their reach.

But Laube, even if weaker than an Inquisition Judge, was a god.

=All of this is the result of your love, and your sin.=

With eyes closed, he could see a thousand miles. Even as a cripple, his reach extended to the ends of the world.

From a distant place, the dying child’s last gasp whispered in his ear. The mother and daughter, riddled with holes from the swarm of insects inside the building, were as clear as if they were right before him. The stench of those who had wet themselves in terror and despair hung in the air as if they were in the same room.

He felt it all. Louis chuckled and said to ‘himself.’

=Is it hard? Painful? Suffering? Why are you still holding on?=

No answer came, but Louis heard it. Or rather, the thought arose. After all, he was also ‘himself.’

All heretics were Laube, yet they divided, fragmented, degenerated, and bloomed anew, each with their own independence. Unlike Ailim’s children, who united their strength, the Laubes were hostile even to their own kind. They were Laube, but not only Laube.

Thus, Louis still saw himself as Louis. Not Louis Berge, but Louis Laube.

=Well, I’m even taking revenge for you now. You didn’t even get a chance to make a wish. How generous of me.=

=Huh? What are you talking about? Don’t you remember? The day you walked the path of atonement. The people of this city, what was it called? Dehen? They mocked you, ridiculed you, threw stones and rotten eggs at you.=

=You don’t need to tell me. I am you. I know how angry, how humiliated you were.=

He hadn’t expected an answer anyway. Ignoring the vehement denial echoing within, Louis walked on lightly.

People were dying all over the city. The Inquisition Temple’s influence, the Inquisition Temple’s territory, was being trampled under the heretics’ feet. The child who threw eggs, the woman who threw fruit, the man who threw stones.

Those who, given a cause, willingly expressed their malice, and those who felt guilt but ultimately hid it and didn’t stop their neighbors.

Could they be called good people? It’s hard to say. People are multifaceted, and those who threw stones at Louis were elsewhere loving children, gentle wives, reliable fathers.

But if you asked whether they deserved to die as evil people.

He could affirm it.

=Come now. Let’s take revenge, let’s rush toward destruction.=

You can’t hold a god accountable for sin. But what the god had done had clearly left scars on this world.

To appease the sacrificed, someone had to bear the sin.

He walked out of the city, step by step, as the screams gradually subsided. From the still-blocked holy site, the sound of insects being crushed continued to echo. The lives of the flies, dying by the hundreds with each step, were no different from the lives in that city.

Louis laughed as he stroked his chest, where no heartbeat could be felt.

The touch at his fingertips was hard and cold. Not just because of the carapace surrounding him, but because Louis felt something solidly clumped inside. And that heart was slowly melting, assimilating.

The fate of the insect curled up inside was no different.

How could a mere human defy such a great will?