Chapter 17

His tired hands shook, his tired breaths shallow. Just handling clothing was gradually taking too much out of him. The Pontifex was washing his clothes by hand in a basin, trying to clear his mind to avoid making decisions based on illogical fear.

Nothing had helped so far; the news was simply too devastating to bear for one as fragile as him. Kaire went missing together with all her guards, unable to be quickly found or traced. Only a destroyed building was left behind in the rubble. The monster Gods knew, there was no doubt about it, of her involvement. And they had taken the strongest weapon Slane Theocracy had.

Unless a true miracle happened quickly, the future of humanity seemed to be in its darkest hours. The Pontifex just had no idea of where to go next.

With a tired sigh, he pulled the robe out of the water and walked over to put it on a string to let the warm sun do its job. Even walking, which he preferred to do to meditate on something, was beginning to take a toll on him.

As he reached for the next article of clothing, he was interrupted by a quiet, almost mechanical set of footsteps. Recognizing this, he turned around to greet the person, a tired smile appearing on his face.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice, Raymond."

"While I understand your decision, I can't say I support it, nor do I think I am the best candidate to succeed you," Raymond replied, stopping by his side and reaching down to the water bucket by the well. With a quick but practiced motion, Raymond washed his face and stood back up, facing the old man.

"If I may be so frank with you, no one ever feels truly ready. But I fear the future continues to look more bleak by the second. Our country needs a young and decisive leader in these dark times. I must admit, it shames me to step down, but to put my own pride above the needs of humanity is something no true servant of the Gods should ever do." Pontifex stated this while wiping his brow.

He motioned for Raymond to follow and sat down on a bench under the canopy of an oak. The massive tree has been his trusty companion for many decades, hiding him from his homeland's hot summers and providing tranquility in its rough silence.

"It's clear you have something to say," Pontifex said, seeing a troubled expression in Raymond's eyes.

"My apologies. Forgive if I sound blunt… do you think we have a chance?" Raymond crossed his arms and leaned against the tree, joining the Pontifex.

"The one trait that humans have over all creatures is hope for the future. No matter the odds, humanity will survive even when staring into the face of death itself. It may perhaps be our greatest trial yet," Pontifex replied philosophically.

"It is not like I will be idling by. But still, we need a lot more than hope. If Zesshi is not strong enough to prevail against them, our chances of defeating them become less than slim."

"Evil cannot live in harmony. Sooner or later, they will turn on one another just like the Greed Kings did. Hard choices and unjust sacrifices will be needed to ensure the survival of our kind, to fight tooth and nail against the darkness. And naturally, should you accept this ascension, you shall have my counsel as long as I draw breath."

"For many years, we had followed your example, paying attention to every single word you said. However, who is to say I possess the same admirable qualities as yours? I will agree to my candidacy, but I doubt my peers will take your decision without backlash," Raymond offered a small smile, glancing at Pontifex.

"Whatever opinion you hold of the other Cardinals, I'm sure my decision will be respected. The current assembly is wise and compassionate. You, along with them, are some of the finest that the Slane Theocracy - no - humanity has to offer," Pontifex uttered with another long sigh.

'O Great Six, hear my plea. Guide us through the dark times and fill our hearts with resolve.'

<X >

Yvon read the sacred texts repeatedly, pouring over every detail within them in the hope of finding something. It was only a copy of the original, but it sufficed in the moment when time was slipping away. He hoped there were some hidden instructions on how to stand against the Ruler of Death.

Even a semblance of riddles or anything to decipher, which he excelled at, would be helpful to him. If there wasn't, humanity was doomed, and Yvon could only somberly conclude that no amount of reassuring speeches delivered by the Pontifex would save humanity.

He leaned on the small window behind him in his personal library, surrounded by copies of holy texts and their interpretations. From the early hours of the morning until the depths of the night, sunlight shone through the window, helping to function as a source of illumination for Yvon.

"Have you found any insight that could help us, my friend?" Maximilian had arrived without him even noticing, leaning against a nearby wall.

"Despite my best efforts, I have not been able to find anything that could be of assistance to us at this time. Call me a fool if you want, but I feel our Gods just wanted to warn us about the coming of end times," Yvon responded without looking up.

"It is a possibility. It was and is only a matter of time before the Ruler of Death and his ilk strike again. Though I must admit, I am conflicted," Maximilian grew quiet, uttering the last words with a whisper.

"About what?"

"If we are not to blame for provoking a response. There are lines in Surshana's confessions that he had met the monstrous creature once, and on friendly terms. Maybe Ainz Ooal Gown saved E-Rantel as a sign of his willingness to let humans worship him and the rest of the dark ones without enslaving our kind. I, out of all people, know that there is both light and darkness within us all."

"How could you even say such a thing? Our Gods were engaged in a fierce conflict with those monsters since time immemorial," Yvon reminded him sternly.

"They did, and now history seems to repeat itself. I am beginning to think we will not find answers in the texts left behind by our collective Gods, but in deep meditations conversing directly with the Gods we each worship."

"Deep meditations?" Yvon looked up from the book, surprised. "Both of us stand on the same pedestal, so why are you the only one blessed with divine providence in this moment of crisis?"

"Do not worry, Yvon. I won't be the only one. But know this: the Great Gods are coming to our aid! What was revealed to me will put me on a path to humanity's salvation!" Maximilian exclaimed jubilantly.

"I see. In that case, I should meditate on the matter as well," Yvon agreed, concealing his frustrations with what sounded like boasting from his fellow Cardinal.

Once his fellow Cardinal departed, he left the library and settled down cross-legged on the living floor. It took only a few breaths to reach a light trance. For a while, there was nothing but his swirling thoughts. But as he reached deeper and deeper states of consciousness, a faint voice called out for him.

'Yvon, my child, follow my voice. Come into my light.'

There was a strange familiarity about his voice. He followed its request and instinctively reached toward its source.

A few breaths later, he was standing in his living room, filled with radiant, warm light. A figure stood in front of him.

'Lord Alah Alaf?' He uttered. There was no mistaking it. The handsome elven face was that of the God he worshiped. The outfit he wore was far different, something that was immediately obvious to the Cardinal.

The God was dressed in a white tunic with a striped white and golden cloth headdress, holding a golden staff depicting an attacking snake.

'My child. Be not afraid, for I have come to guide you in these dark times.'

Alah broke into a smile that would have captivated any regular person. For Yvon, however, he had already taken note of several discrepancies in this radiating figure.

There was something wrong. The God's smile seemed…sinister. Only then did Yvon notice that his God's eyes weren't green and brown as depicted in the majestic paintings, but yellow with vertical pupils.

'You…you are not my God! What is this deception?'

'You would denounce me? Only I can lead Slane Theocracy towards the actions that would destroy the monster Gods.' Alah's smile grew even wider, to the point where it was utterly inhuman.

Yvon forcibly opened his eyes with a gasp. Whatever that entity was, it surely wasn't his God. It was something evil, something as monstrous as the Ruler of Death himself. Maybe even worse. His heart choked on the dread he felt, his hands soaked in sweat.

His suspicions only grew worse when an emergency meeting was called. Pontifex was stepping down from his position and appointing Raymond as a successor. All his peers approved of this decision. To not stand out and raise suspicion, so did he.

Yvon's decades-honed instincts told him to play along and listen for clues. This dark entity may have been parading as not only his God, but as the God for others.

He got the confirmation once the rest of the cardinals discussed their visions. All had seen their Gods in the same outfit, which they described as Pharaoh's garbs.

'Something terrible is going on. I fear we are getting roped into a war that isn't ours,' Yvon mused. Just in case he retold his vision, only leaving out the details of how he felt about the said vision.

His thoughts were constantly on begging Alah Alaf for guidance, but already he could feel his devout beliefs being infringed after having met the sinister impostor of his God. His fear of having to encounter the fake God instead of the real one made him rethink twice to seek help from the one source he always believed in.

All he could do in the present moment was wait for the events to unfold and follow his intuition, which rarely failed him. Where it would lead him, however, he remained unsure.

<X >

Acilia Baraja strode through her mansion, overseeing the servants who, in turn, were making the last touches so that everything would look flawless. Her best student - now superior - Remedios Custodio was coming to visit, and she couldn't afford to show anything less than perfection.

Today she was wearing her holy paladin plate armor without a helm, which she had polished all morning. Her golden locks, which reached her shoulders, were meticulously combed, and her piercing blue eyes gleamed with excitement and anticipation at the arrival of her incoming visitor.

Neither her husband nor her daughter were home often, and their jobs prevented them from pitching in. In the end, it fell upon her shoulders to run the household in addition to her duties as the regional paladin chaplain.

Pavel Baraja was the Black Color, one of the nation's nine most established and revered heroes and protectors. He was in charge of a large portion of the Great Wall, protecting Roble from the dangerous demihuman hordes. While her daughter Neia was training to become a paladin at her insistence, to follow in their footsteps.

The girl was always her father's girl and had a somewhat strained relationship with her. She even resembled her father more than her, with both her daughter and husband sharing those dark beady eyes that gave the impression of constant glare. On a man with a fierce reputation, those eyes worked as an additional effect to keep soldiers in line, but on a young girl, it just worked as a deterrent that killed all hopes of a basic social life.

In fact, it was this fierce appearance of her husband she had fallen for all those years ago. But for her daughter, it would be an uphill battle to find a suitor and give her grandchildren.

Acilia suspected her daughter was upset about only partly inheriting her beauty. A silly notion for an upcoming paladin, but an understandable one nonetheless. She did deeply care for her daughter in her own way, wishing her to properly prepare for the hardships of life, but that had impaled a wedge in their relationship. Pavel was thus the one to spoil her to no end during those rare moments they were together as a family.

Finally, the fated knock on the door came, and Acilia rushed over to let her honored guest in.

"My honorable teacher, it is good to see you again." The grandmaster and the paragon of all paladins was a near unrivaled beauty, only overshadowed by her younger sister, the head priest Kelart, and the Holy Queen Calca. Clad in a similar plate set to hers and even sporting the same haircut, she greeted Acilia with a short bow.

"Grandmaster Remedios, it is an honor to welcome you to my home," Acilia returned the bow and motioned for the woman to come in.

Both settled down in the lanai at a small round table, maids immediately serving them wine in traditional paladin mugs made for easy use with plate gloves.

"For what do I owe the pleasure, grandmaster?" Acilia was the one to start the conversation, given her status as Remedios' former teacher.

"Your daughter had a vision of the E-Rantel events a week before news reached Roble. I hope you understand the implications." Remedios spoke with a tint of nervousness in her voice, fingers tapping against the table.

'Neia was given a vision of that entity claiming to be a God? She could be deemed a heretic if she starts to claim her visions as a fact.' "I do. Has my daughter acted upon the vision?"

"Not yet. I am here as a friend, not as the Paladin Order's leader. Acilia, you know what it will do to your reputation if that girl decides to go against the recommendations of the scholars. I wanted to talk with you in private before acting."

"I see. She has her father's unruly temper… I am not one to judge the significance of such events nor what should be done with one who receives such visions. Remedios, what would you do if Neia wasn't my daughter?" Acilia asked. Mother's heart may blind her in this situation, so it was better to let her close friend be a judge.

"I would send her on a pilgrimage to E-Rantel to test her faith. If she returned and were still devoted to the Four, I would consider that as the completion of her trial, meaning she fully joins the order. But if she fails…"

"My daughter would be excommunicated…"

"You see why I was reluctant to send her away. I could just fail her on other charges and write a recommendation for joining the army. Not as honorable as being a paladin, but she wouldn't be seen as a heretic if she babbled about her visions among the regular soldiers. I'm sure her father could tutor her."

Acilia fell silent. The true question was whether she did trust Neia or not. The girl, despite her bouts of unruliness, was a devout believer of the Four.

"Send her on pilgrimage. I cannot deny her such a trial. I trust my guidance was enough to keep her on the right path."

"I hope you are right. If she fails, I can only do so much to cover it up," Remedios stated.

"I appreciate your concern. But if Neia fails, it will be my failure as a mother, and my shame would not be worse by the public knowing it." Acilia took a large gulp of the wine, downing half the cup in an instant.

Remedios smiled and added, "And that's why I strive to be like you, my mentor." while doing the same.

"You flatter me. I know better than everyone else that you surpassed me years ago," She chuckled. "It was a great honor to tutor the greatest paladin this nation had ever known."

Remedios was the nation's champion and arguably the strongest paladin to ever live in the history of mankind. It wasn't a coincidence that her sister Kelart was already a legendary priest, capable of using fifth-tier magic. Both women were in their early twenties and already reached the peak of their respective fields, surely on their way to entering the realm of heroes soon if they continued their splendid deeds.

For a while, they reminisced on Remedios's squire days and her near-inhuman strive to better herself. Those had been far simpler days, days Acilia somewhat wished to return to as her body grew older.

'If only Neia had half of Remedios' determination. She could have a chance to become the next grandmaster.'

Editing by aidan_lo.

Proofreading by Saphire_Drake, clagan, aidan_lo, Sluethen, Zirmeister, Lightflan, x4x, and KieraKieraARTS.

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