Chapter 17. The Strong. The Weak. The King. (3) Part-2

3 days after the Golden Cross Army was deployed, Pope Salem also began preparing to depart. His name would be further spread throughout the continent after having participated in the subjugation of the Demon Lord.

Earlier in the afternoon, Salem had ridden on a wagon with Helpharon, the Captain of the Holy Knights, behind him. Salem quickly got off the wagon before they left, calling over a nearby Holy Knight.

"Release the Hero. He can't walk too well these days so doubtless it'll take him a while to reach the abbey."

After relaying his order, he handed the Holy Knight a letter. The knight tilted his head quizzically upon receiving it.

"This is…?"

"The truth." The knight still looked back in confusion, so Salem explained what he meant in more detail. "It's the truth. The truth regarding everything that has happened to Brother Thoma. Leave this in the abbey. Tell him that it is imperative that he read it. You can just tell him it's a letter pertaining to what happened to the 'children'."

As the Holy Knight lowered his head, Salem gave a contented smile before returning to the wagon to wait.

'Ah… I wonder how he'll react after having read the letter. Hero, now would be the time to truly resent me and hate me. I dearly hope that you'll fall ever deeper into a pit of hatred and despair. Struggle with all you've got.'

Nothing pleased him better than defiling those who acted righteously or in the service of others. He had now confirmed with his own eyes that he was not the only one who could fall. It made him feel like his own sins were disappearing. Regret, responsibility. Everything. He thought of only himself and pursued only his own desires.

"Let us depart."

Salem headed toward the allied army of the Hero in order to leave his own mark on this continent.

***

Thoma was released. He was barely able to walk without stumbling as he carried a staff in one hand like an amputee. He couldn't maintain his balance and fell forward several times. His face soon became black and blue with bruises and the side of his leg ran red with blood. His right eye had been plucked and bound. He was disfigured beyond what any normal person could endure.

"So long, idiot!"

"Hahaha!"

Soldiers stationed to protect Lania continued to jeer at him.

"U…ugh…"

Ignoring the jeering, he continued to push on, barely able to catch his own breath. He took one step, then another, fell, and picked himself up again. He walked over unpaved paths and beyond a smattering of brush before reaching the hill. He only barely made it to the abbey after several hours of grueling, unsteady walking. He arrived to find a single letter at the entrance. Seeing it, he dropped his staff and began to lumber toward it as quickly as he could in his injured state. Half-way he fell and began desperately crawling to it. When he held it in his hand, he began to tremble as he tore it open and read the contents.

It contained the truth about all of the circumstances surrounding Thoma and the children. It talked of Kelvin, the pharmacist whom Thoma had trusted, and how he had given drugs to Ellie. It told of how Faron and the other priests had been used to corner him. It told of how all the children were used in Akreal's magical experiments and killed.

Thoma opened his mouth in pain.

"U….uwaaaa…..ah….aaaaaah…."

His eyes shook before a single tear leaked out.

"Uwaaaaaaaack-!"

He thought he could differentiate between fact and fiction, but what he was looking at was not entirely the truth, and the deceptions had been wrapped up so well in truth that they'd deceived him. All that he had believed to be true was shattered in a moment. Everyone he had trusted had betrayed him. There was only endless layers of contradiction, one on top of another.

"Uwaaaaaack!"

His mind, which had been bordering on the precipice of insanity as it was, began to unravel. He felt like he was completely losing his grip on reality. His vision blurred and he felt his sanity draining from him. He could think of nothing but the fact that everything in his world had been polluted and sullied by lies.

Thoma looked down in surprise.

There was blood.

It was leading somewhere. Thoma raised his head once more. Blood had lead him toward the abbey's chapel.

Thoma forced his body to crawl across the ground to follow it and grew stiff when he discovered the slender woman collapsed in front of the building.

"Sister… Ellie?"

Thoma hurriedly stretched his hand toward her. He forced his weakened body to embrace the fallen woman.

"El… Ellie…!"

Thoma shook her, struggling to wake her. There was blood spilling out of her head. Thoma's hand was slick with it.

"H-her bleeding is severe! M-magic…!"

Thoma held the back of Ellie's head and activated his magic, but it was no use. His magic had no effect.

"M-magic isn't working? Why!! She won't wake up! Why..? Why…?"

His mana was lacking. Instead of producing magic, all that came was more blood spilling from every orifice of his body. Red droplets began to fall from his eyes, ears, and nose. As it fell onto Ellie's limp body, she feebly opened her eyes.

Thoma looked up to see the statue of a beautiful woman embracing a cross. It was the statue of the God of the Holy Kingdom, Artarrk. It was the image of the mother of humanity as imagined by people. It was the image of a mother.

"Why…! Why-! God…! Please tell me why you have given me this fate…!"

"This is your destiny, dear hero. You have no choice but to accept. We are all subject to our own destinies."

He recalled the repulsive words of Salem.

'Destiny? This is my destiny…? I don't want it… N…o! Fate cannot be so cruel… Why must I go through this torture…!'

He had only one wish, one thing he burnt with desire for: the salvation of this woman.

'If nothing else, please save this woman!'

Hot tears spilled from his eyes, mixing with blood as he screamed his wish earnestly. His heart full of despair and frustration, he beseeched God with every ounce of will left in his body. And yet, God did not answer. The woman he loved more than life itself was bleeding to death in his arms.

"Ah…Ahh…"

Thoma looked down toward Ellie. Her breath was growing faint. Her skin was cold to the touch. Ellie barely managed to raise her hand to touch his pained face.

"T-Thoma…"

"Ellie… Ellie…!"

Thoma brushed his trembling hand across Ellie's face.

"H…how come? That face… don't be sad. I don't want you to suffer."

"Ah… Ah…"

Thoma shook his head. He didn't want to cry. He didn't want to be sad! But…!

"I-it'll be okay! J-just… wait a bit! I'll bring a mage or priest that can cure you…!"

"It's okay… I'm not in pain. So, Thoma… smile. Smile for me…" Ellie smiled, "… and I will be happy."

Thoma's eyes grew wide at those final words. Ellie's hand trembled and her breathing stopped. Her eyes closed. She no longer moved. Her slack body lay heavy in Thoma's trembling grip.

"Ah… Ahhhh…. Uwaaaaaack-!"

He screamed. He screamed with a ferocity that tore his throat. As he cried in anguish, a single word consumed his mind:

'Salem! Salem!! Salem—–!!'

With Ellie's limp body still in his embrace, he began to rampage. He kicked over a bookcase in the library, sending books scattering everywhere. He smashed the planks that were blocking the entrance to the cellar with his foot. His face, barely recognizable under the bloody tears, was contorted with rage and insanity.

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