Chapter 72

I shall return the cornerstone that will restore the glories of the olden days. Let us together reclaim the era when the gods shone brightly.

Utes’s intention was clear.

“The door opens to those who knock, and salvation comes to those who seek. Join hands with me.”

However, the Theistic Order could not but remain silent due to the unholy plan proposed by the Pope and supported by the Order.

Though there were some who cast dissenting votes or priests who couldn’t attend the vote, it was a fact that ultimately the Theistic Order had endorsed the Pope’s decision.

The uneasy silence among the priests might have seemed like thoughtful deliberation over an unexpected proposal under normal circumstances. But Ortes, who had already received hints from Sikton, could sense a certain discomfort in their silence.

‘So this is what you mean?’

Sikton hadn’t been merely spouting nonsense. There was a mixed feeling—a simultaneous welcome and unease—regarding the return of the age of gods.

Representing the silent priests was Philoxenon, the priest with the strongest voice among those attending from various sects who worshipped the chief deity.

“Your proposal is indeed radical. But it’s also perilous. If the Wizard King were to gain control over the Ten Sages, it would lead to a catastrophe far greater than anything the Ten Towers could handle.”

“Exactly for that reason, we must halt the expansion of Argeyirion. The Ten Towers, having exhausted their strength fighting against Argeyirion, would become even more vulnerable to the Wizard King’s arrival.”

“I admit your proposal has merit. However, accepting it would change the policies of all orders within the Theistic Order. We are merely members, not true representatives, so we cannot give an immediate answer.”

“True representative? Do you mean ‘the Pope’?”

Philoxenon’s eyes flickered with interest. It was surprising that a priest who had never visited the Theistic Order knew about the existence of the Pope.

But upon reflection, it wasn’t so strange. Someone infiltrated into Blasphemia could have gathered information about the leader of the Theistic Order.

“We cannot discuss this further in front of outsiders.”

Ortes realized why the Pope hadn’t appeared at the gathering of the twelve orders’ representatives. The Pope couldn’t reveal his face to outsiders.

‘They are quite cautious. Hmm…’

Demanding an immediate decision on the plan would be foolish. Ortes quickly calculated the pros and cons.

Now is the time to step back and observe. A new future has been presented; they need time to reflect on it.

Especially with an event as monumental as the Wizard King’s arrival, they’ll need even more time. The prophecy Ortes delivered would bring great turmoil to the order.

‘The second-best option is if the entire Theistic Order agrees with my plan, cooperates in eliminating Argeyirion, and begins searching for relics simultaneously. The best option is…’

A schism within the Theistic Order—if factions supporting and opposing the plan proceed independently without combining their efforts—that would be the most favorable outcome.

After all, the Theistic Order itself held variables unknown to Ortes.

***

Philoxenon’s words clearly carried an intention to dismiss Utes. Demos looked at Utes.

Despite the seemingly provocative statement, Utes’s expression remained unchanged. Only a subtle smile lingered on his face.

“I see. In that case, I shall take my leave.”

Utes bowed deeply—an exaggerated gesture. Demos once again felt an actor-like aura emanating from Utes.

“But before I go…”

In Ortes’s hand after finishing the bow was a small box he had apparently taken from inside his robes.

“I have a gift for you.”

Ortes opened the box to reveal a few grapes.

As a gift, it seemed too insignificant—just a few grapes rather than an entire bunch.

What’s the meaning behind this?

Among the priests, Philoxenon and Hyacinth, the two most experienced, were the first to recognize the identity of the “grapes.”

“Bacchus’s fruit! So the sect didn’t disappear along with its followers?”

***

This is the critical moment. I maintained a calm smile.

“Reverend Demos must have informed you that I brought a child from Bacchus Sect during my visit to Elysion.”

Silence.

“I was not merely a witness during the final moments of Bacchus Sect. I also acted as a mortician, collecting their remains.”

“You probably mean grave robber.”

Hyacinth’s jibe. I responded with a laugh.

“Perhaps. But isn’t it better than letting Blasphemia take all their heritage?”

“…”

“I have no interest in owning Bacchus Sect’s legacy, including the grapevine. I’m merely holding onto it temporarily until the rightful heir of Bacchus Sect claims it.”

Silence filled the room where Hyacinth had stopped speaking. Philoxenon then asked, his tone less severe than usual and closer to that of a weary middle manager.

“Are you saying you’ve been protecting the sect’s items from Blasphemia’s hands?”

“If you’d like to see it that way, I’d appreciate it.”

“So, why are you showing us this now?”

“While posing as a member of Blasphemia, how many ‘legacies’ do you think I’ve seen and collected?”

Truthfully, I haven’t seen that much. But I know where some sacred relics are buried.

“And how many legacies are stored in Blasphemia’s secret warehouses?”

My ideal scenario involved creating a schism within the Theistic Order. To achieve the best result, simply throwing facts out there and hoping for division wouldn’t suffice.

Heaven helps those who help themselves, doesn’t it?

“If any of you are interested in the sect’s legacies I’ve personally gathered, please contact me through this email. It’s an L13 account affiliated with Blasphemia, so appropriate security measures should be taken.”

I provided the priests with a reason to contact me privately.

They all have the potential to become informants, perhaps even allies in my cause.

Dialogue fosters understanding. The priests who converse with me will gradually learn about the threat of “the Wizard King’s return.” The more they resonate with this threat, the greater the likelihood of internal strife.

Through various channels of conversation, the truth behind the Theistic Order’s supposed betrayal will eventually come to light.

It was Demos who saw me off.

“…You kept a lot of things from me.”

“I tend to keep secrets.”

Demos chuckled.

“After you leave, a meeting regarding that… terrifying news you mentioned will begin. The Pope will likely come himself. I’ll send word once the results are decided.”

He avoided specifics about the Wizard King’s return. Even a priest of the war god, accustomed to combat and violence, feared mentioning that name.

Neither of us was in a position to say much. The Wizard King was a significant variable even to me.

“If there’s nothing else, let’s part ways.”

“Oh, by the way, I had a question.”

“What is it?”

“If the Pope is absent, shouldn’t there be two empty seats instead of one, given Bacchus Sect’s total annihilation?”

***

After Ortes departed, the priests declared a short recess. During this time, Hyacinth led one of the seated priests away.

The space, layered with countless holy symbols, formed a complex maze. With every step down the marble corridor, the scenery transformed dramatically.

The celestial dome of Aegeus, Elimon’s bedroom, Enyalius’s battlefield…

Every step forward through these vibrant spaces was guided by Phobos’s foresight. Designed so that one couldn’t navigate without holy symbols, Hyacinth finally arrived at a chasm-like darkness.

“Pope!”

Under the glow of twelve flames, now reduced to eleven, sat a figure in deep contemplation. Turning his head, he asked:

“Has the visitor already left?”

“He skillfully sowed a precise chaos among us and departed. Did you hear what he said? He claimed that the ancient calamity will return amongst us.”

The Pope sensed fear hidden beneath Hyacinth’s angry words. Gently nodding, he dismissed Hyacinth.

Though Hyacinth felt an uncontrollable anger towards Utes, he faithfully followed the Pope’s request. Escorting the young priest to the Pope’s presence was his duty.

Only the quiet priest who followed remained.

“Come now, Kore. Won’t you tell me what you saw in him?”

As the priest removed her hood, flowing red-tinged hair spilled out. She did not belong to the original twelve orders.

The Pope’s eyes gleamed intensely.

“The ancient prophecy. Passed from Pope to Pope. And only entrusted to the thirteenth divine order. An outsider bearing this prophecy has come.”

To Kore, the goddess of Pluto reigning over the underworld—the thirteenth deity—the Pope asked:

“What color was the soul you saw in him?”