Hieronymus and two men took the corpse outside. sfx: creak

When they exited, looking at Hieronymus’s expression, it might have been wrong to show the warmth being taken away. sfx: whoosh

This is better than being discovered later on.

But I never expected it would change so suddenly. Last time, it seemed somewhat faintly connected, but this time there was none of that.

They didn’t look at me.

Then I wonder, what the heck am I?

Of course, there’s no need to ponder such things. Before I think about what I am, I need to gain more warmth.

This might be my only chance to come out into the world. If I go back to the time when I was just sinking in the bottom like the sea, then I might never be able to come out like this again.

This body isn’t me in the first place.

Since I have this body, Joanna could have succeeded too. Just a little until now. Even the minimal push I could give exploded.

By the way, Joanna’s looking at me with a strange gaze. What is it? Am I scaring her because of what just happened?

Still, she’s looking at me like a believer.

In fact, she seems stronger.

Presumably, it’s because I turned a person into a monster.

For someone like Joanna, it must look like incredible power, right?

Moreover, since she changed too, even more so.

I stood up and scanned my surroundings. There were loads of luxury furniture adorned with elaborate decorations, but they lacked unity.

That’s why it could hide the bizarre device above. The gloomy energy wrapping around the entire room.

It seemed similar to the arrows hit on the altar or the knives the men held earlier, smeared with something.

In the meantime, Joanna went outside to retrieve cleaning tools from a corner, perhaps to wipe away the blood that fell when she beheaded the boy earlier.

It’s fascinating to see both at the same time. If possible, I’d feel reassured if the person next to Hieronymus also appeared like this.

Or was Hieronymus like that?

But considering they’re wary of me, it seems difficult to turn Hieronymus into someone like Joanna.

I’m waiting for my chance.

Main objective: Increase harvesting period. This is quite predictable in terms of production plans; I just need to set the schedule and quantity.

Next, I need to think about how to gain more warmth.

Looking at Joanna, one can see a confidence unique to someone with power, but conversely, that’s about all there is.

The light was dyed dark purple, and her skin turned blue, so it looks as if it should spark some impulse, but there’s none.

Rather, it’s as if the faintly connected faith of the warrior boy. His name was Cheki.

He changed similarly to me. Losing warmth, he felt the cold seeping deeper than the bones. Then instinctively realized that the light in front was warmth and attacked.

As a result, the girl named Patricia was hit by Cheki’s strange arrow and met her demise.

Thinking of the chain of connection, it seems I should take the warmth after it flowed from Patricia to Cheki, right?

But the warmth came straight to me.

Or was it that after all the calculations were finished, the results just happened?

In the first place, what is warmth?

Light feels like a soul.

Or maybe it’s a container holding a soul.

Warmth is here. The light falls to me from the sky. In the beginning, during the time I couldn’t even explode, I had to just watch it fall.

Then, the time came when the light didn’t fall well, and after a long, lost period for me, I was finally able to regain warmth.

So, I just ate warmth. The light shrunk into a murky form but remained.

Then, where did the light that has fallen to me until now go? By licking the light, I gained memory along with warmth.

I licked it even now.

But the light didn’t disappear.

Or maybe the light that fell to me was in the process of disappearing. Since they all ended their lives in a similar state, I judged that this warmth was very bitter.

And the light that lived happily and met a sudden death contained much more warmth.

So warmth is likely what I initially thought—pleasure, happiness, expectations for the future.

In other words, to gain warmth, I have to kill someone in a good state and dye them with my color.

I need warmth.

So, I must act.

Anything.

Fortunately, Hieronymus hates the current ruling class. Although he referred to all the aristocrats generally, there probably aren’t many he actually has a grudge against. At most one or two countries, I suppose.

But with that hatred, he has built this cult.

Then he has no right to stop that hatred. Because the moment he denies it, someone else will kill him and claim justification to continue this Future Hope Church cult.

This is also the reason any dictator ultimately corrupts. Even if a dictator has pure ideals, the people following don’t.

Especially for those with power, you have to take good care of them. Otherwise, once the first dictator dies, the second one will appear.

Hmm. Indeed.

If I just give power, I can maintain the factory. This is a farm designed for someone to foster hatred toward others.

So, I need to increase the harvesting period.

Looking at Joanna, her physical abilities have significantly increased. She can grab and heal wounds, coldly aiming for the light.

That’s some solid power there.

I looked at Joanna, who was cleaning the blue blood smeared on the floor and walls with the cleaning tools.

She has the form of a beautiful woman, but originally she’s over 50 years old. She must have been pure and beautiful in her youth, but broken by the violence of her husband and completely shattered when she had a miscarriage.

So she has no hesitation when doing dirty work.

How will this person change?

I sat down, watching Joanna Smith, who looked pleased after touching her waist several times while scrubbing the floor with a cloth.

*

Hieronymus. Real name Yasle.

The leader of this Future Church took the corpse to his laboratory.

His subordinate placed it on the operating table. After greeting Yasle, he left the lab.

Confirming that both men had completely left, Yasle turned his gaze to the corpse.

It had transformed into something no one would believe was once a person.

Something covered in Rebecca Rolfe’s skin that expressed having taken warmth, looking like leftovers from a meal.

For safety’s sake, wearing thick gloves, he held a knife and plunged it into the corpse.

A massive horn had grown from the left facial area of the boy who didn’t appear bruised.

But it was closer to a mass of flesh than a carapace. What he cared about was the skull. It’s common for flesh to swell, but truly powerful magic or curses twist even the bones.

And scraping off the flesh, barely a fragment of bone remained where the skull should have been.

He realized this was a result of incredibly powerful forces.

And it also proved that what was covered in Rebecca Rolfe’s skin was powerful beyond his expectations.

At the moment when he was about to continue thinking further, the door suddenly swung open.

Yasle looked that way.

A person half his height stood in the doorway. One of the four that were in front of the stepped pyramid leading into the inner three circles.

The distinguishing feature was a staff larger than himself, connected to a human skull and spine.

That individual entered while brushing the cloth they were wearing back. Murky silver hair cascaded down, revealing the face of a girl. Judging purely from her form, one could say she was a beautiful girl, but she approached Yasle with an incredibly wicked smile.

“Oh ho! Is this the creature that monster created? Yes, it’s as grotesquely twisted as those outside said!”

“Hyunghkesuni. Don’t just come in here recklessly.”

Yasle called her that. Then the girl looked at Yasle with a surprised expression.

“Hey, shouldn’t we see this together? We need to figure out what that which is entered for the god we prepared is. Right? Isn’t that right? Yasle?”

With an incredibly clear voice, Hyunghkesuni giggled and called Yasle’s name.

“Hyunghkesuni.”

“Sorry, sorry. Here you were Hieronymus, right? Who would’ve thought the naive leader of Yeongyang Church Nation turned into this atrocious cultist? Life is unpredictable.”

Hyunghkesuni walked up to Yasle with short steps. Then she reached into the head of the disassembled monster and rummaged.

Then pulling her hand out from the monster’s head, she grabbed the staff made from human bones and approached the body. The headless, twisted torso. Hyunghkesuni inserted the staff into the neck stump.

plop

When the staff was inserted into the body, the jaw of the skull attached began to open and close a few times.

Hyunghkesuni stared at it in shock, then gently tapped the staff several times and placed her hand on the monster’s body. Specifically, on the area where the heart should be.

“Wow, this isn’t human at all. Was it ever really human? Completely lacking a soul? Hmm, huh. There’s a faint energy left. Is this the energy that something had?”

Purple mist flowed from the chest, rippling momentarily before vanishing as if it had never existed.

Soon the smile faded from Hyunghkesuni’s face. She solemnly sweeps up her unkempt long silver hair.

“Did you figure something out?”

“A little. But this…”

Suddenly, she jumped onto the operating table and rolled up her sleeves to her shoulders. Then she placed her small, white hand where the heart should be.

An arm that looks like a child’s, dark shadows cast onto it, gripped the corpse’s chest. But Hyunghkesuni quickly pulled her hand back.

However, unlike Hyunghkesuni’s hand, made of black shadows, it could not withdraw and was caught in the center of her body.

Then a small black hole suddenly appeared, as if a fist-sized area had all the matter other than light being crushed into a single point and disappearing.

“Magic double annihilation phenomenon. Ha. You truly summoned an existence from beyond the abyss.”

“What does that mean?”

In response to Yasle’s question, Hyunghkesuni jumped off the operating table again, landing on the floor. Then she smiled widely.

Also, with a beaming smile, Hyunghkesuni looked at Yasle and opened her mouth.

“The creature known as ‘void existence’ in Yeongyang Church Nation. Those who are extremely despairing causes a tremendous explosion that suddenly sucks everything in their realm and vanishes—a law of despair. It’s your illusory god, Cruxshibal. There are various names, but it means just one thing.”

With a smile that can only be described as soaked in madness, Hyunghkesuni raised her arms and declared.

“The witch of ecstasy, Hyunghkesuni declares. You have drawn out the real one. Yasle. All the remnants of heresy and paganism, the long-desired law of sin that resulted in failure!”

With a face that looked only filled with malice, hatred, joy, ridicule, and countless emotions, Hyunghkesuni proclaimed.

“You! Drew it out!”

And it’s as if she laughed like she was spitting out blood.

That’s funny. The very Yasle, who was in a position to suppress heresy and paganism, fell into corruption for revenge, and the god of revenge that the heresy and paganism longed for appeared in this world.

Yasle grabbed the position where the sacred scripture of Yeongyang Church used to be on his neck, then realizing there was nothing, let his hand drop again.

He glared at Hyunghkesuni, who had once been an enemy, and still was, and lifted his knife to finish up the analysis he just started.

And while listening to Hyunghkesuni’s mad laughter, he studied the remnants left by the target he intended to use.

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