“M-Monster!”
Kallau ran.
After months of surveillance and reports, the bishops had finally said they were going to harvest the results of their efforts, so he had escorted them personally.
But what the hell was this?
The child they had believed to be a saint candidate was neither a saint candidate nor a child.
It was a monster.
The moment he suddenly became an adult and slaughtered the bishops, he walked out of the house with an empty expression on his face.
‘I-I need to report this immediately...!’
Devil, Satan, monster, demon...
He did not even know what to call him.
To Kallau, who had played the role of the adoptive father, Su-ho was terror itself.
But Su-ho’s actions were faster than Kallau’s words.
In a world without cell phones, Su-ho’s Cheolma was faster.
Riding atop Cheolma, Su-ho looked down at the headquarters of the Church from the sky above the Central Church building, using Conrad’s memories as a guide.
No one noticed him.
Because Monochrome Solitude was active.
Su-ho had now completely regained his powers.
He did not know why.
They had simply returned.
As Su-ho looked down at the church, Jack spoke.
- Heh heh, you look like you’ve got a lot on your mind.
“...No. Not really.”
- Not really?
Only Jack’s voice had been echoing until now, but suddenly part of his body emerged like a parasite inhabiting its host.
- Why not? If I were you, my head would already be splitting from overthinking.
“Why?”
- Because if you just kill every priest in the Central Church because they disgust you like those bastards earlier, then this trial loses all meaning. Killing people in this trial would just be venting anger. It wouldn’t be the right answer.
That was exactly right.
This trial had begun because Bell demanded to know what he truly understood about her and asked him °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° for a teaching after experiencing her circumstances for himself.
Now he understood her environment and her position well enough.
But what exactly was he supposed to teach her?
From Jack’s perspective, no good answer came to mind.
That was why he said his head would have exploded if he were in Su-ho’s position.
Su-ho agreed with him.
A saint who had spent years surviving among hypocrites while enduring abuse and brainwashing.
He had to show her what he himself would have done in her position, without possessing the power to kill everyone the way he could now.
After all, this was already a past worldline whose time had long since passed. Even if Su-ho slaughtered everyone here, nothing would change.
Jack cackled.
- If I were you, I’d probably just apologize and call it a day.
“How could I? After everything I already said.”
- Then do you have some other method?
“It’s not the correct answer, but I do.”
- You do?
“Yeah. At least by my standards.”
- ...?
Jack tilted his head.
But Su-ho ignored him and dropped toward the Central Church below.
Boom!
Landing lightly in a superhero pose, Su-ho slowly began walking through the Central Church.
The people still could not perceive him.
Thanks to Monochrome Solitude.
He had never once been here before, yet Su-ho knew the place as thoroughly as if it were his own home.
Because he had absorbed all the memories he needed from the blood of the two bishops he killed.
This headquarters of the Church of the Chief God, called the Central Church, resembled a royal palace from the Joseon era.
It was so vast that it looked as though an entire village had been relocated here, with buildings scattered throughout the grounds.
Yet Su-ho did not hesitate even once as he avoided priests, church servants, and believers who had come to pray, heading somewhere with purpose.
The place he arrived at was a massive residence located slightly apart from the church headquarters.
It was the only private estate located inside the church grounds, the home of the highest-ranking figure in the Central Church: the archbishop.
That was why its name was “Great House.”
An unbearably arrogant name.
Su-ho looked up at the Great House and thought,
‘Archbishop Orma.’
The Church of the Chief God was truly a peculiar organization.
They selected saints and saintesses who represented the religion, yet the Popes and Cardinals he had seen in the Pantheon were never selected.
The reason was simple.
Because they believed Popes and Cardinals could only become such beings after dying and entering the Pantheon.
Ironically, that meant the priests of the Church of the Chief God in every worldline could never become Cardinals or Popes while alive.
‘But because of that, they were able to push every excuse onto the afterlife Pantheon and onto Cardinals and Popes who didn’t even exist in reality.’
All while claiming they themselves were nothing more than bishops and archbishops, humble servants of God.
That long history and tradition was precisely why Bell’s way of thinking had formed the way it did.
Su-ho slowly walked around the Great House.
At first glance, the archbishop’s residence appeared modest, but though it only looked simple on the outside, the details were extravagantly luxurious. It had been built with the finest materials in the entire Central Church.
The Great House had not originally been like this.
It became this way only after Orma became archbishop.
In Bell’s worldline, Archbishop Orma had ruled like a king for an extremely long time.
Nearly every troublesome task—especially public appearances and official ceremonies—was pushed onto the manufactured saints and saintesses while he himself remained behind the scenes, endlessly accumulating wealth and pursuing his own interests.
That was why the person who had influenced Bell’s life the most and remained beside her the longest was also Orma.
Su-ho spread out his senses.
There was a heavy presence inside.
That was Orma.
According to the bishops’ memories, unless something special happened, Orma spent most of his time inside his residence.
Of course, not in piety or purity.
Whether it was alcohol or women, he simply indulged himself inside his own home.
After slowly examining the exterior of the Great House, Su-ho placed a hand against it.
Then he began releasing demonic energy, and the bright, clean-colored house gradually became stained and murky from the point where his hand touched it.
Corruption Sorcery.
It spread like a plague, slowly devouring the entire residence. Before long, screams echoed from inside as people poured out.
Servants working within the Great House.
At the same time, another loud scream rang out.
It belonged to Orma.
Soon afterward—
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Heavy footsteps sounded, and an enormous pig-like man appeared.
It was Orma.
Unlike the Great House, now drenched in corruption, he himself remained clean.
Even as an archbishop, he could at least protect himself with holy arts.
Orma rushed outside, looking around in confusion before his eyes met Su-ho, who still had a hand pressed against the wall.
“Who are you?!”
Instead of answering, Su-ho grinned and walked toward him.
At the same time, he released killing intent through his aura.
Startled by the overwhelming murderous pressure, Orma nearly fell backward before barely managing to hold himself upright.
An unbelievable presence.
Never in his life had he encountered such sinister and terrifying energy.
‘A demon?’
The thought came naturally.
Unless it was Satan himself, no human could possibly emit such monstrous killing intent.
‘Dangerous...!’
Though corrupt, he was still a high-ranking clergyman.
In other words, among those who used holy arts, he was considered one of the greatest masters alive.
And most masters could instantly gauge an opponent’s strength and determine the odds of victory.
From that perspective, he had absolutely no chance against the man before him.
Not even enough to compare to dirt beneath a fingernail.
In fact, the crushing pressure was so overwhelming that he could not even think of fleeing and instead froze in place.
Su-ho approached and asked,
“Orma?”
“Y-Yes?”
“Get inside.”
“Ah...”
Smash!!
The bastard was so frozen he could barely speak properly.
But did that matter?
The way he stood there stupidly irritated Su-ho, so he kicked him.
Orma tumbled across the ground pathetically before practically crawling back inside the house.
The interior was disastrous.
True to Corruption Sorcery, the inside was pitch-black and rotten, like a basement overrun by mold during monsoon season.
A long dining table sat in the kitchen, and judging by the spread of food and alcohol, they had been eating moments earlier.
Of course, now it was all rotten.
Letting out a faint sigh, Su-ho looked at Orma, who still sat collapsed on the floor unable to stand, and asked,
“Archbishop?”
“Y-Yes, th-that’s right...”
Without realizing it, Orma was speaking politely.
Those who stood at the center of corruption were often too arrogant to understand their place, but Orma was intelligent enough not to make that mistake.
His ghost-like instinct for survival was precisely what had kept him alive this long.
Which made the conversation easier.
“You send bishops to temples operating like orphanages and have them select the prettiest and smartest children to become saintess candidates, don’t you?”
Though one of the church’s hidden secrets had just been exposed, Orma still answered.
“Th... that’s correct.”
“And though I haven’t gone there myself yet, nearby you’re also raising countless replacement children to eventually substitute for the current saintess. Spares, essentially.”
“......”
Every word was true.
They were memories taken directly from the bishops.
Silence was as good as confirmation, and since Orma could say nothing, Su-ho continued.
“Good. I understand that the Church of the Chief God is rotten and that it constantly parades new saints and saintesses around as figureheads. But there’s one thing I truly cannot understand.”
“W-What...?”
“Holy Power.”
“Pardon?”
“I understand using pretty and intelligent children as figureheads. But these are supposedly children chosen by God, aren’t they? Then naturally they should be capable of holy arts approaching miracles. So how exactly did you manage that? As far as I know, that isn’t something you can simply create because you want to.”
“That...”
Su-ho genuinely wanted to know.
The bishops’ role had only been to scout and select children.
Then how had they produced healing abilities powerful enough to earn the title of legendary saintess?
He had been curious ever since his time at the temple.
Orma rarely appeared during official events.
At Su-ho’s question, Orma swallowed dryly.
Cold sweat streamed down his face.
“Th-that is...”
He struggled to speak.
Instead, only his eyes rolled around nervously.
Right. So there really was something filthy hidden underneath.
“Forget it.”
Su-ho raised his sword.
“W-Wait, I’ll tell you—!”
Stab!
He had given him time.
Orma simply failed to use it.
After killing him, Su-ho absorbed the man’s blood with Bloody Hand and extracted the information within.
An enormous flood of memories flowed into his mind.
And shortly afterward, Su-ho’s face twisted horribly.
The reason the manufactured saintesses possessed such overwhelming Holy Power—the answer Su-ho could never understand no matter how much he thought about it—
Was because, like the methods of black magicians, it relied on sacrificing others.
Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!
Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter