WETRIED TRANSLATIONS

Is It Bad That the Main Character’s a Roleplayer?

[Translator – Aren]

◈ Chapter 308 Make it Stronger (2)

"The purification of the plague is more urgent right now than treating those in critical condition. May I ask you to handle that?”

"Yes, yes!”

The Bishop pointed toward the place where the plague patients had been quarantined. “Miss Hero?” However, some of those carrying out their duties there recognized the Hero.

"...Madam Archmage, Inquisitor Daniel.”

“Did you… Did you kill him?”

Well, those few were people the Hero herself had brought along, so that in itself was nothing unusual. Though the Hero’s face stiffening at one of their questions might have been.

"Later. I’ll explain later. Right now, we have to save people……”

"...Understood."

But the Hero, awkwardly changing the subject, the person who accepted that answer wearing a gloomy expression, and even the Archmage caught between them flinching before ultimately focusing back on her work.

Considering the situation as a whole, all of that amounted to nothing more than minor details. The Bishop and the others began moving busily to carry out the duties that took priority.

"Bishop, are you truly going to just leave this be……?”

Only during that process did the priest who had practically served as his right hand quietly approach and ask him. There was no need to ask what he was talking about.

The Bishop briefly gripped his empty shoulder. Blood was still seeping from the arm that had received only temporary treatment with bandages and hemostatic agents, steadily gnawing away at his remaining life.

"Do you wish to do something more here?”

"Pardon?"

"Is there anything more you actually can do?”

But when he looked around, most of those surrounding him had already reached the end of their lives. Unlike him, who was still breathing despite losing an entire arm, the area was filled with people who had died without ever even receiving a chance to survive.

"Keep the priests’ mouths shut and have everyone do what they are capable of doing. Just as we always have.”

How could he attempt anything beyond that in front of all these people? How could he stubbornly insist that they must treat someone as an enemy simply because he was a Demon’s vessel?

"Do you mean……?”

"And by ‘What can be done here,’ I mean treating people or comforting them. I don't mean going out to hunt down a Demon.”

As far as he was concerned, there was nothing particularly wrong with what the Bishop of Bemurchen had said. Rejecting Demons was something sanctioned by God, and it was also true that the existence outside the walls was too dangerous to simply ignore.

But if asked whether he wanted to follow that reasoning, the answer was also no. He was someone who believed saving people took greater priority than executing Demons. If executing a Demon would require dozens of sacrifices, he could postpone it until later. If compromise was possible, he was willing to accept that as well.

"Were you not wary of him yourself, Bishop? Wasn’t that why you remained here until now……?”

"It’s true that I stayed behind out of caution, just in case. But hasn’t it now been shown that our fears were unfounded?”

Of course, after spending his entire life opposing Demons, it was impossible for him to completely lower his guard. Humanoid or not, he could feel Demonic Energy inside the man. What exactly was he supposed to do about that?

To him, the situation was rather like an enormous cockroach showing up with a cleaning rag, scrubbing his house squeaky clean while shouting, ‘I’m not your enemy!’

It was unquestionably doing something helpful and showing no hostile intent, yet on a visceral level it was still revolting. All the more so because, immediately beforehand, a swarm of other cockroaches had invaded his home and trashed the place.

"If you still wish to say something about it, do so after all the immediate fires have been put out. Once that’s done, I won’t stop you.”

But, as hard as it truly was to believe.

That giant cockroach, no, that being harboring a Demon, was clearly friendly toward them. Far from harming humans, he only ever helped them, to the point that both the Hero and the Grand Master were taking such a firm stance in his favor.

"Though I’m not sure whether the Hero will agree with it.”

If that was the case, then shouldn’t they somehow endure it on their side as well? It wasn’t as though they even possessed the strength to subdue him anyway.

"That’s only because the Hero is still young……”

“Being young doesn’t mean one is ignorant of compassion and justice.”

More than anything, the Bishop had rather liked what the Hero had said.

To say that she would save a single person even if it meant surrendering her title... wasn’t the headstrong idealism peculiar to young, and a goodness that had yet to be worn away, shining through all too clearly?

"Sacrificing the few for the sake of the many may certainly be efficient, but it would surely be a tragedy for the Hero to be someone so cold-hearted as to take such sacrifice for granted. How fortunate it is that she is someone capable of saying what she did.”

There was benevolence within the commandments God had given humanity, so perhaps it could only have been inevitable that someone who understood that well became the Hero.

"The justice and compassion spoken of by the Representative surely don’t differ from what God Himself proclaims.”

* * *

"Your Holiness, you must take shelter immediately—!”

"God’s sanctuary has been violated, and the lambs of this land continue to die. Where exactly would you have me go?”

Meanwhile, around the same time that one person spoke words destined to become a jinx, another pushed a ticking bomb as far into the future as possible, and yet another found reassurance in the Hero’s humanity, a certain woman clasped her hands together upon the western lands, where the world’s second-highest and longest mountain range stood.

"Evacuate the deacons and younger priests first. This old woman has lived long enough. I’ll die here together with the Demons.”

The Temple that Dismas, the repentant thief, had devoted his entire life to building embraced her like a cradle.

Prepared for that cradle to become her grave, she recited a prayer. Every time a pillar of light surged upward, new wrinkles carved themselves into her cheeks and neck. They were wrinkles far more shriveled and sagging than anything the passage of years would ordinarily bring.

"Good grief, you turned into an old hag in no time at all.”

But before wrinkles could completely cover her face, the doors flew open with a boom. The several figures entering through them were all fairly advanced in age themselves.

"Why are none of you gone yet?”

"If we leave, who’s supposed to buy those youngsters enough time to escape?”

"We thought Her Holiness might get lonely dying all by herself, so we came to keep you company.”

"Tsk, take your time getting there. Take your time.”

Without a single Holy Knight accompanying them, they entered and each took their place as though they had arranged it beforehand. The circular formation created by the Pope and 12 Cardinals began shining even more brightly than before.

"This is…quite a burden.”

Yet the stronger the light became, the worse their expressions grew by the moment. More people were sharing the burden now, but the total load had also increased, so there was no helping it.

Their muscles began to cook, their flesh blistered, and their organs started drying out. The outward aging was merely a side effect of that. They were beginning to rot and die from the inside out.

"I’ll go on ahe……”

Thud.

And finally, one of them died, reduced to a mummy without being able to spill even a single drop of blood.

"I’ll be going too……”

That person wasn’t the last. One died, then another. In an instant, five places in the formation stood empty.

"Demon, what do you hope to gain by targeting those who have yet to fully grow? Come here. The old ones you seek are here.”

Even so, they didn’t stop. They continued reciting prayers, calling upon God and drawing down the light.

Each time, the darkness that had been surging toward them was pushed back and shattered. It was like waves along a shoreline. Powder scattered from the collisions between light and darkness, flying in every direction like sea foam.

Thud.

In the meantime, another Cardinal collapsed. Watching that, the Pope lowered her eyelids. Far away, she could feel the waves of light that had been pushing back the darkness being crushed beneath something’s forepaw.

Craaackle. Each time it took another step forward, a bitter chill came with it. Its harsh breath was white, not because it held light, but simply because it was cold.

[You who do not fear death, what value do you imagine your sacrifices possess?]

A beast with the elongated face of a wolf, the mane of a lion, and the cold of a snowfield stared toward the Pope while breathing out strands of frost. Its eyes seemed to pierce through the white-stone Temple building and look directly into her heart.

[The true God has now manifested upon this land. If you desire an end without suffering, bow your heads at once and pay homage.]

"The God I serve is not your master, and your master is even less deserving of being called the true God. Why, then, should I bow my head? Take back the ruin and destruction you brought with you and begone.”

[With mercy cast as the sea, I offered you counsel, yet you reject it and drink from the poisoned cup. How foolish.]

But they were beings standing at opposite poles, incapable of ever mixing.

At the Pope’s rebuke, the blue wolf opened its long maw wide. The instant its breath burst from the pitch-black mouth, two Cardinals who had barely been holding on collapsed, and the light itself froze.

Crack!

Then, over that frozen light, a bird with black-and-blue wings came flying in. Its wings were made not of feathers but of membrane, and every flap brought a rumbling sound as fire ignited across the ground. It was a flame that burned without heat and made things decay without leaving ash.

Cough. Along with the sound of coughing, another Cardinal crumbled away into dust.

Now only two Cardinals and the Pope remained.

[You still persist even now.]

But the moment the white-legged one widened the road of its master, the remaining two also dried up completely and died. Cough. Even the Pope doubled over, hacking out a dry cough.

[Remarkable. I thought you would be crushed underfoot like insects. It seems I underestimated humans far too much.]

"Ugh, cough."

While she clutched her throat and wheezed, the one with crown-like horns came walking down the path with measured clicks of its footsteps. Nothing remained to stop them. Human beings and walls alike had all been annihilated by their loyal lion and peacock.

[I praise you. Your desperate struggle forced me to make one extra gesture.]

Even the deacons and young priests who had been fleeing under the protection of Holy Knights and Inquisitors.

[But, oh, struggling soul, all your efforts have come to nothing. Your thrashing held no meaning whatsoever.]

At that realization, tears streamed from the Pope’s eyes. They weren’t clear, but tinged red.

"How could you kill even those children?!”

[Hmm?]

"How can one who calls themselves a god be so cruel?! How can you be so cruel?!”

[Cruelty. Cruelty, is it?]

Eyes like gemstones, neither the green of foliage nor the gleam of the sea, tilted beneath long, lowered lashes as Pride cocked their head.

[You say strange things. Your god, too, is a being who reigns through compassionless severity and indiscriminate equality, so why direct such condemnation at me? Is it simply because I exist wholly outside providence and order?]

"My God and you stand in different positions!”

[What a ridiculous thing to say. That some cruelty is permitted merely because it belongs to a god.]

Swiiish. The veil swaying with the movement of Pride’s head glittered in myriad colors wherever the light touched it. Like a fragment of the rainbow said to be worn by God.

[In the end, that is no different from saying that position determines qualification.]

And the scepter held in Pride’s slender hand struck the earth with unfading light and unbreakable gemstones.

[If that is the law, then naturally, I shall aim for the highest place.]

Drip. Droplets rose upward from beneath the earth, gathering into a puddle and then became a lake.

The land where the Great Temple stood began floating upward as it sank into an inverted lake.

"No! Prideful one, you shall fall without ever reaching the heavens!”

From within it, the Pope, barely managing to keep herself breathing, cried out one final act of defiance. [Insolent creature.] The lion that had remained quietly behind its master secretly bared its teeth. White breath froze the Pope’s body solid.

[I could have burned her.]

[Cremation is a funeral rite that sends humans away with proper dignity. Why should we show such courtesy to one who has violated the order of Heaven?]

After saying that to the featherless bird, the lion bowed its head toward its master. [I acted without your command. Please bestow upon me the punishment I deserve.] Only then did Pride, who had been smiling like a figure in a painting, open their mouth.

[Enough. How could I punish loyalty directed toward me?]

Rather than punish the lion, Pride lightly tapped the surface of the lake with the scepter in their hand. Beneath the inverted lake, from the empty space that had once been the sky, a pitch-black shadow began descending. It was a long and enormous dragon.

Graaah!

The dragon, falling downward as though surging toward the water’s surface, opened its enormous jaws. Splash! And at last, with the frozen body swallowed whole, it passed through the surface of the inverted lake amid an enormous spray.

Only the ripples and foam spreading across the lake slowly bore witness to what had just happened.

[This is as far as the conquest goes.]

Within it, Pride quietly lowered their body. Swish. An enormous scale slipped through the waves and spread beneath them like a throne, supporting their body.

[Then, you who were fashioned from snow and fire, prove your devotion to me. Whoever brings me more blood and flesh shall receive my favor.]

[We humbly accept the command of the one and only Heaven.]

[We humbly accept.]

Those who had been granted the reason and wisdom to discern right from wrong spread their wings and stretched their legs.

[With this, I suppose the West has reached its end.]

Yet even as everyone else moved out, there was one who didn’t join them.

The blindfolded shepherd wiped the blood from around their mouth and planted a wooden staff against the ground.

[Have you accomplished everything you desired?]

[As for the fall of the West, yes. But a foolish beast has betrayed my expectations.]

[...They failed?]

[The objective of fixing the enemy forces in place was achieved, but the thing died. So I cannot say we came out ahead in the exchange.]

[Oh dear.......]

While expressing regret at their master’s words, the shepherd bent at the waist toward something. His robes slid down with a rustle, briefly brushing the ground, and his empty hand picked up something that had fallen there.

[This is……]

[A scripture.]

[Haah. So it is. What lawless creatures. They could at least have left the books alone instead of burning everything indiscriminately.]

[Every book in this place would be devoted entirely to the god of this land. Why are you interested in them, my shepherd?]

[My Heaven, I chose knowledge as the offering with which to fill my emptiness. Even if it’s heresy, how could I possibly suppress the desire to put it into my head?]

Saying that, the shepherd opened the scripture he had picked up. In place of the eyes wrapped in cloth, his fingertips meticulously swept across every page of the scripture.

[But, my Heaven, if the god of this place knows neither benevolence nor generosity and functions only through cycles and order, then why does this scripture say that God bestowed commandments?]

It was undoubtedly an overstepping of authority, but one that continued under tacit permission.

[Why did he command that parents be honored and family cherished, and why did he order people to show mercy to their neighbors? Murder, adultery, and theft are nothing more than trivial occurrences to nature, so how did the god of this land command such things without possessing benevolence?]

The shepherd, Abel, committed yet another excessive overstep with his closed eyes.

Pride’s eyes narrowed, and their smile deepened slightly.

[Because it was mortals who wrote the scripture.]

[?]

[To claim the words of a god in order to establish law, were the first mortals not remarkably arrogant?]

Whether Pride smiled at the overreach of being questioned or at the substance of the question itself, there was no way to know.

[In the end, the self and justice are born not from the heart of a god, but from the mortal heart. Thus, the right and wrong of mortal affairs can ultimately be decided only by mortals. Not by gods. By mortals alone.]

But Pride’s eyes, like gemstones gleaming like the Morning Star, gazed steadily upon their shepherd as they extended their winged mantle. Rustle. The first feather forcibly lifted Abel’s chin. It was a chin that still bore faint traces of blood despite how often he had wiped it with his sleeve.

[And so, my shepherd, why did you hand over your life to a mere doll? For what reason did you dare break the leash I had fastened around it?]

The shepherd, who until then had held himself stiffly as though fear were beneath him, trembled for the first time.

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