WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B
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◈ Whispers of a Scheming Demon ◈
Chapter 28: Apostle Beris (2)
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Inside a tent barracks built for four or five people, several female believers spread out sleeping bags to prepare for bed.
Having finished first, Shaperia took out her scripture and opened it.
Ending the day with a reading from scripture purified both body and mind.
It was an old custom of the Church of the Great Saint.
Shaperia read Chapter 8, Verse 7 of the Book of Piromel.
“Saint Marziel declared that the power to carry out justice comes from unwavering conviction.”
Shaperia closed her eyes and reflected on her own conviction.
Protect the weak. Destroy evil.
Back when she had been a homeless child on the streets, Shaperia had once been abducted by a cruel Mage and nearly offered as a Sacrificial Offering in some ritual.
Death had been right before her eyes, yet she survived.
Thanks to the sacrifice of an unnamed Holy Knight.
He had appeared out of nowhere, stopped the blasphemous ritual, and fought the Mage.
After a fierce battle, the Holy Knight won. But he, too, suffered fatal wounds.
Shaperia had asked the dying Holy Knight why he had fought with his life on the line. Why he had continued swinging his sword until the end when he could have survived by running away.
Even as he coughed up blood, the Holy Knight answered with a smile.
‘We do not turn away from evil. No matter how great the evil before us may be, a Holy Knight cannot turn his back on it.’
Even as he died, he shone.
His noble conviction set Shaperia's heart ablaze.
She remained there until the Holy Knight's corpse had gone cold.
The other children abducted with her had fled long ago, but she alone did not leave.
It was her way of paying respect to the man who had given lofty purpose to the life of a homeless child who lived hand to mouth.
Shaperia had made a vow that day.
‘I’ll live like this man did.’
By helping the weak and fighting evil.
At the same time, a Pentagram Stigma appeared on the back of her hand.
Great Saint Marziel had answered her.
From that day onward, she could wield the Appraising Eye and Holy Power.
Shaperia opened her eyes, returning from her memories.
She read Chapter 8, Verse 7 once more.
“Saint Marziel declared that the power to carry out justice comes from unwavering conviction.”
What if, at the lord's castle, she had insisted on branding Ilea an apostate to cover up her own mistake?
Her conviction would have been damaged, and the Great Saint would have taken away her powers and Holy Power.
She had been reprimanded by the Archbishop for correcting her mistake, but she had ultimately preserved her conviction.
They said that preserving one's conviction sometimes brought great trials. This had been one of them.
Shaperia let out a relieved sigh.
It seemed she had weathered her first trial well.
Just as she was about to make the sign of the cross, a question suddenly came to mind.
‘What kind of conviction does the Archbishop have, that he would protect the Great Saint Church's honor even at the cost of creating an innocent victim?’
The answer was simple. It was already in the question.
‘The Great Saint Church's honor.’
The Archbishop would do anything for the Great Saint Church's honor.
That was his conviction, and followers of the Church grew stronger by preserving their convictions.
‘We’re going to clash often.’
Bitterness crossed Shaperia's face. Then one of the female believers suddenly began gasping in pain.
“I, I can’t breathe.”
She pounded her chest wildly as though she had indigestion.
The other believers in the tent showed similar symptoms.
A strange pressure was crushing the space around them.
The situation had come without warning, but Shaperia did not lose her composure.
As she had learned from the manual, she unleashed Holy Power. A brilliant white glow spread outward from Shaperia in every direction.
Those touched by the Holy Power were able to regain a little calm.
“W, what was that just now?”
“I don’t know. I still can’t stop shaking.”
Everyone shuddered at the sensation they had never felt before.
“Some kind of curse or magic... Could this be an attack?”
It was possible that heretics had launched an ambush in pursuit of the Great Saint's corpse fragments.
Shaperia shouted.
“Let’s get outside first!”
Understanding the situation came first.
She threw open the tent flap.
Believers were rushing out from the other tents as well.
Everyone's attention was fixed on the mountain peak opposite them.
Demonic Energy billowed beneath the moonlight.
Perhaps its owner had no intention of hiding, as it continued to make its presence known.
A Holy Knight shouted.
“Everyone, imbue your weapons with Holy Power!”
As the knight unleashed Holy Power, the Holy Soldiers imbued their weapons with a brilliant white light.
This was what they called Consecration. Holy Soldiers who could not emit Holy Power fought by borrowing the strength of Holy Knights or priests like this.
White light spread across the ridge.
Nearly a hundred troops, cloaked in Holy Power, formed their battle lines.
Preparations for battle were complete in an instant.
One Holy Knight approached the Archbishop.
“Your Eminence, do you know what that is?”
Archbishop Hiles, standing at the front, shook his head.
“It is an evil I have never seen before. A monster that should not exist in the south, no, in this world!”
Even the Archbishop, who had attained such a lofty realm, was taken aback. It might have been a Horned Demon with several horns.
The Holy Knight swallowed dryly.
“...Can we face it with our current forces?”
The Archbishop narrowed his eyes.
“If we cannot, will you run?”
The Holy Knight immediately straightened his posture.
“Holy Knight Ailan! Even in death, I will not turn my back!”
A halo rose from Ailan's entire body. The Archbishop nodded in satisfaction.
“Prepare to intercept it.”
“Yes, Your Eminence!”
The Demonic Energy began to move. A darkness deeper than night was approaching.
The closer it came, the more its overwhelming presence pressed down on their entire bodies.
Without Holy Power, they would all have fallen to their knees before that evil.
A Holy Knight shouted.
“Activate the Holy Magic Formation!”
The priests began chanting Holy Chants.
“Archers, forward!”
Holy Soldiers nocked consecrated arrows onto their bowstrings.
The Demonic Energy had already entered range.
At the very center of that writhing mass of evil, the monster's true form must have been waiting.
A Holy Knight drew their holy sword.
“Intercept it!”
Brilliant white flames rose from the ground. Consecrated arrows embroidered the night sky.
The darkness of night was covered in Holy Power.
Like a white night, everything around them grew bright.
The Demonic Energy gradually dispersed.
That was all.
The presence in the darkness remained.
“What a pitiful struggle.”
A grotesque voice fell like thunder. Everyone shuddered at the shriek that seemed to tear apart their souls.
Through the scattered Demonic Energy, the monster's form slowly emerged.
An Archdemon stood with the full moon behind him. Ash-gray robes fluttered as he looked down upon the ridge.
Crimson malice overflowed from vertically slit eyes.
His overwhelming presence ravaged the land.
Everyone had lost their will to fight, staring blankly into the air.
Archdemon Beris wrinkled his nose in displeasure.
How could mere mortals dare look directly at him? It was utterly unacceptable.
“Whether then or now, that blasphemous light remains the same.”
Beris waved a hand through the air.
At once, every trace of Holy Power on the ridge vanished like a mirage.
Without Holy Power, mortals could not resist an Apostle's malice.
Everyone collapsed where they stood. Their gazes were forced down to the ground.
Overwhelming terror had paralyzed their reason.
Apostle Beris moved his small mouth and spoke.
“Surrender yourselves to instinct, mortals. Do not be ashamed to bury your heads and bow before a demon. In accordance with the supreme order, all you need do is beg mercy before omnipotence. I swear upon my name as an Apostle. If you do not resist, I, Beris, Apostle of the End, shall grant you painless deaths.”
Beris meant to kill them in the end. Even bowing their heads would not save them.
They might have thought to fight honorably if they were going to die anyway, yet no one moved.
To them, the declaration that they would die without pain felt like the greatest mercy imaginable.
It was because of the Apostle's Word of Authority.
A single word from a great being had a tremendous effect on mortals. It paralyzed reason and crushed their values.
Unless someone possessed an exceptionally strong conviction, it was difficult to shake off an Apostle's Word of Authority.
Most of those present had already yielded to Beris's words.
Beris smiled in satisfaction. His small mouth split to his ears in an instant.
“Look, Marziel! Your lackeys bow their heads before me!”
The Archbishop, who had fought his entire life for the Great Saint Church's honor, was kneeling before the Great Saint's enemy.
The Holy Knight who had sworn to destroy evil was begging a demon for mercy.
The priests who had vowed to illuminate the world were submerged in darkness.
The Holy Soldiers who had called themselves servants of the Great Saint were licking the demon's feet.
Every sight brought Beris pleasure.
Broken convictions were the finest delicacy.
“A feast after two hundred years! My patience has been rewarded!”
Demonic Energy surged as if exploding.
Malice danced before their eyes, but no one reacted.
Shaperia was the same. Overwhelmed by helplessness, she could only mock herself.
“Is that really an Apostle? Why would an Apostle... No, it doesn’t matter. I’ve already fallen to my knees. I can never stand again. I really am such a worthless being.”
Similar murmurs arose from all around her.
Everyone muttered like people who had lost their minds.
Beris burst into mad laughter.
“Indeed! You humans are insignificant and wretched creatures! You cry out for the illusion called conviction, only to break in the end! Look at yourselves even now! How utterly pathetic!”
No one could deny it. Some even agreed with Beris.
“...That’s right. I don’t deserve to live.”
“Kill me! Just kill me already!”
As only self-mockery and cries of despair echoed, an earnest yet calm voice reached Shaperia's ears.
“Saint Marziel. Master of all Holy Chants, grant your servant leave to borrow a miracle.”
Shaperia turned toward the voice.
Confusion appeared on her face.
The Archbishop was chanting a Holy Chant while lying prostrate on the ground.
‘How?’
A Holy Chant was an incantation used to activate Holy Magic.
In other words, the Archbishop intended to fight the Archdemon before him.
Shaperia was deeply shocked.
He could remain sane even before such overwhelming evil.
‘The Archbishop truly is the Archbishop!’
Until recently, Shaperia had secretly looked down on the Archbishop.
She had thought the Archbishop was a hypocrite who acted kindly on the surface but truly cared for nothing but the Great Saint Church's reputation.
That assessment changed.
‘...He wasn’t a hypocrite. The Archbishop merely acts according to his conviction.’
The Archbishop would do anything to protect the Great Saint Church's honor.
He would preserve the Church's dignity even by framing the weak, and he would not kneel even before an enemy of overwhelming strength.
Because the Great Saint Church could have neither mistakes nor defeat.
His conviction might have been twisted, but there was no hypocrisy in it.
Still facedown, Shaperia clenched a fistful of mud.
‘I’m the hypocrite.’
After acting so high and mighty, she had fallen to her knees before a demon. Her vow to destroy evil had broken so easily.
She could not bear how pathetic she was.
As she blamed herself, Beris's mad laughter abruptly stopped.
Silence descended upon the ridge.
Shaperia raised her head at the sudden stillness.
Beris was approaching the Archbishop with a hardened expression.
“O Evil-Slaying Star ascended to the heavens, by your supreme omnipotence, the evil before us...”
The Holy Chant continued.
‘Damn it!’
Beris had noticed.
The Archbishop would die.
Then Shaperia suddenly remembered her conversation with Johan.
“Correcting one’s mistakes. It is one of the teachings the Great Saint has always emphasized.”
Everyone made mistakes.
But everyone was also given a chance to make up for them.
Even if water was spilled, more could be poured.
With enough will, one could refill an empty cup or restore a lost conviction.
This was that chance.
Shaperia slowly rose from her knees.
‘I’ll do what I need to do.’
She intended to buy time.
Until the Archbishop's Holy Chant was complete.
Shaperia shouted loudly.
“Over here!”
Beris turned his gaze toward her.
Malice fierce enough to burn her soul swept across Shaperia's entire body.
Terrible pressure bore down upon her.
Though she trembled violently, Shaperia did not fall to her knees.
Beris frowned.
“To think I allowed such blasphemy from mere mortals. Is it because I was divided into ten parts? I must retrieve my scattered soul first.”
Shaperia pointed her iron sword at Beris.
“You vile spawn of evil! I will not turn away from you! Even if I die, I will never bend these knees!”
Holy Power surged from her entire body.
Her eyes burned with brilliant white light.
Beris watched her in silence, then split his mouth to his ears as he spoke.
“You red-haired bitch. So you are Shaperia.”
At the same time, Beris waved a hand.
Shaperia's upper body was torn away in an instant.
Her remaining lower body staggered, then collapsed.
“So you bent after all. What a pitiful resolve.”
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