36 - The Victim of the Academy

Judgment (4) The plan has commenced. Tilith will chase after me, the one carrying the Lemegeton. An invitation has been sent to Cult. The plan is to drive Koran Lekias to his most confident realm and leave it at that. The one thing that requires attention is how to involve Cult in this. But I have thought of something for that too. “Hello, Mr. Johann.” “...Oh, yes. Hello.” In a secluded, deep mountainous area exists a small cabin where I have called Cult, and he readily accepted my invitation. Despite the obvious trap, he showed no concern. He must have even managed to dodge Lobelia's surveillance to walk into the trap willingly. Of course, Cult might feel confident escaping any trap due to the bait I dangled being worth the risk. “What do you need me to do? Judging by the situation, it’s either the saint or Ex Machina, right?” “...Exactly.” Cult, always smiling brightly, extended his hand to me. He saw through my plans precisely. As expected of a prophet. It spared me the trouble of explaining—convenient given the time constraints. “Yes, there is someone stalking me recently. I would appreciate it if you could take care of that.” “Well, it must be unsettling, considering even Her Highness recently returned to the royal palace.” “...It seems.” What’s with that? I hadn’t noticed Lobelia’s absence, thinking she went back to the palace. Has it really been that long already? Being swept up in a whirlwind left me unaware of how time has flown. Once this current matter is resolved, I’ll need a period of real contemplation. “Great. The information you provide is crucial for us, Mr. Johann.” Cult’s smile lingered before he unwrapped the bandage concealing his eyes. Revealing his blue eyes, mirroring the clear skies, with irises that displayed the symbol of Eden. This is the evidence of a prophet—a sign of miraculous power bestowed by the divine, seeing through lies and fate. “But before the task, how about receiving an advance payment? You promised a hint regarding the whereabouts of Elysium’s relics.” Cult is indeed no pushover. He even resorts to divine powers to guard against any possible deceit from me. Certainly, I had no intention to lie, yet witnessing such a sight is chilling. “If you're aware we are seeking the relics, then I trust you understand their significance to us.” The relic of Elysium. It is one of the essential conditions for fulfilling Cult’s desires. The issue is, though Cult is the leader of Eden, he has no ties to the Elysium Church, Eden’s predecessor. Cult merely bears the qualifications, but even he doesn’t know what form the relics of Elysium take. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind revealing it right away. In fact, knowing in advance might even be favorable. "Alright, but..." Click! The sound of gears interlocking echoes. Bang! The wooden chair I sat on shattered, ejecting intricate machinery that shackled me. The entire sequence unfolded in an instant. “There’s no time. Let’s chat if we survive.” “Huh...?” Cult surely prepared countless scenarios for my possible actions. He must have had responses ready, calculating various outcomes and solutions, no doubt. But that’s irrelevant here. No matter how wise Cult is, there’s no predicting how unseen mechanical devices operate. Unknown elements remain unpredictable. “Oh, I’m not escaping. I genuinely don’t have time.” Whrr! The floor below me collapsed, and the mechanical apparatus pulling me along at incredible speed dragged me away. Who could have anticipated that this small cabin in a secluded mountain area was, in fact, a colossal mechanical structure in itself? I had selected the optimal location with Koran Lekias. Koran Lekias chose this site for Ex Machina, his secret lab. As is typical of such secretive places, emergency escape mechanisms are a given. The chair that bound me served exactly this purpose—a contingency escape mechanism. “Huh...?” Unable to comprehend the phenomenon, Cult merely stared blankly as I vanished from sight. Despite being smart, he falters in unexpected situations. Well, given his lack of experience, there’s no helping it. Consumed by backdoor schemes, he missteps in real confrontations like this. “Then, best of luck, Adios!” As Cult vanished from sight, I closed my eyes. The mechanical apparatus subjected me to an immense load due to the rapid movement. Now, all that remains is to watch and see. * * * Cult stared blankly at the spot where Johann had disappeared. 'Did this bastard just...?' Regardless, Cult hadn’t anticipated Johann's move. Since when had Johann been a coward? The idea that he’d smack and bolt never crossed his mind. Has he no fear of repercussions? Screech. Yet, at that moment, the cabin door opened, and someone walked in. “My, my.” “...?” Cult, who had been mindlessly looking at the now-closed floor, and Tilith, who had walked in through the door, locked eyes. “Hello.” “Yes, hello.” Both exchanged bright smiles while facing each other—both inclined to smile when encountering potentially suspicious individuals. No awkwardness existed between them. An outside observer might even think they were acquainted. “You're from Eden, I presume?” “And you’re the currently buzzing saint, correct?” Despite sharing smiles full of warmth suggesting an amiable tea session, both internally concluded on each other. “What brings you here?” “Oh, a friend invited me. And you? What business brought you to such a secluded mountain?” “I’m searching for someone. There’s a pressing matter I wish to inquire about, yet I haven't seen them.” “I see.” Both, accustomed to dealing with people, found an unexpected harmony. Amidst a seemingly polite farewell and going one's way— Boom! Cult made the first move. A radiant burst followed his hand gesture, occupying the space where Tilith stood. It consumed everything. ‘Given the circumstances, the enemy is definitely on this side.’ Unlike Tilith, Cult had a clear understanding that the adversary was indeed on their side. Hadn't he anticipated Johann would offload such troublesome matters onto him? “…Indeed.” Yet, Cult realized the true reason behind Johann's hasty escape a bit late. Wasn’t he afraid of repercussions? Surely he was. However... ‘If that’s the adversary, it all makes sense.’ To put it simply, Cult wasn’t aware of Tilith’s true identity. He merely perceived her as a hypocrite, called by an unfathomable title. Her actions themselves were quite irreverent, weren’t they? However, Cult saw something translucent floating in the air—entities the world knew as spirits—through the prophet’s eye. “Ah, should I be grateful to Mr. Johann for this?” Everything he saw was demonic. Realizing this, Cult let out a dry laugh. How could one be so audacious? “To openly command demons, while everyone remains oblivious.” She didn’t hide the presence of demons. She simply referred to them as spirits and made no effort to conceal them otherwise. Thus, no one suspected her. Whir! A mass of wings floating mid-air flapped, and the radiant light Cult had unleashed began to dissipate. The light itself was fading. One by one, the wings unfurled, revealing what lay hidden within. “Mastema.” At Tilith's call, the demon hidden by the wings opened its eyes. Eyes resembling pools of blood, enormous and filled with malice. The malevolence concealed by pristine white wings began to reverberate across space. “It’s time to fulfill the contract.” Mastema’s eyes dripped tears of blood. The blood-tears trickled down the immaculate wings which pulsed like veins. The blood eventually dripped from the tips of the wings, forming drops. “The balance of the world has collapsed, and evil overflows everywhere.” The otherwise translucent entities in the air, upon contact with the blood, gradually assumed distinct shades. Once referred to as spirits, they reclaimed their grotesque demonic forms. “Elves are annihilated, while most other nonhuman races have sunk into seas of blood.” Drip. Drip. As if this display wasn’t enough, Mastema’s blood drenched Tilith. Her silver hair, which once gleamed like starlight, was stained a dark crimson. “What do good and evil mean?” Tilith slowly unsheathed her sword. The blood running down her wrist coiled around the blade. “When good encounters good, they expand together. When good meets evil, they clash, diminishing each other’s strength.” Tilith was smiling. Confident she wasn't wrong, she declared. “But evil consumes evil, growing in size.” This was what she believed. The foundation of her ideology. “In that case, I shall become the greatest evil and purify this world. I will judge all evil.” This was the method she chose to save the world. Malevolence overflowed, sweeping over not just the small cabin but the entire mountain range. While Cult marveled at the might of the Judge, he concluded with a sneer. “She’s a madwoman.” “Isn’t that the same for you, Prophet?” Tilith responded to Cult’s sneer with a smile, aiming her sword at him. * * * At the point where Cult and Tilith were presumably about to clash, I, having escaped from Koran Lekias’s emergency device, had one immediate task at hand. “Ughhhhh!” First, I had to vomit. The ride quality was horrendous. At first, it felt like being on a roller coaster, slightly dizzying, but midway through, there wasn't even time to feel dizzy as I was tossed around in all directions. I was unable to conjure up any future plans, thinking I might die here. After expelling everything I had eaten for lunch and even breakfast, I finally assessed the situation. “Wow, what a spectacle.” Even from the foot of the mountain, one could see the explosion of reddish energy and radiance intertwining above. An unexpected observation was Cult holding his ground more impressively than anticipated. Indeed, it seemed his divine power was a favorable match. “Is the other side ready by now?” I sat down for a moment, gazing up at the mountain. As planned, I had pitted Cult and Tilith against each other. They were entities that could not tolerate each other’s existence, even without my interference. One could say I played the role of a proverbial bridge between these two adversaries. Now, I awaited a third party to interrupt this clash of two similar yet oppositely aligned forces. Yes, the one who orchestrated and awaited this chaos alongside me. The protagonist of this vendetta. Boom!!! Koran Lekias made his move. To be fair, I didn’t have high expectations. Compared to the stature of Cult and Tilith, Koran Lekias wouldn’t even warrant a mention. Even if he fought within his territory, as a non-Ex Machina executive, how good could he be? “Hah...” Still, there was something I had overlooked. I hadn’t imagined the synergy between Koran Lekias’s technology and Maxwell’s demon would be so impactful. “Wow, he really left nothing behind.” Despite my warnings, Koran Lekias poured everything out as if not to leave anything in reserve. The mountain began to crumble. The machinery Koran Lekias prepared was not just sizable—in fact, it was massive enough to level a part of the mountain, emerging from the ground. A colossal mechanical entity, with hundreds of arms, grasped the earth and opened its enormous jaws. A gigantic centipede crawled along the ground. Upon its appearance, an immense heat engulfed the entire mountain. "The reason for choosing the mountain as the location... could it be?" It wasn't simply because of the lack of people, nor was it a lukewarm reason like not wanting to harm anyone. Koran Lekias intended to set the entire mountain ablaze using the power of Maxwell’s demon, converting all that heat into energy. Perhaps, surprisingly, it might actually be feasible. “This much should be enough.” The deal with Koran Lekias was already concluded the moment the battle began. I had provided him with the perfect environment in exchange for synthesizing materials and even added Cult as an ally. Our deal ends here. It was at the moment I was about to dust off my hands and get up that I noticed something. "......" A peculiar gaze from Emily, who was standing behind me, caught my attention. Oh dear, seems she's here to escort me. “...Alright, I get it.” Indeed, unfortunately, my dealings with Emily were not over. I didn't even want to imagine what consequences might follow if I tried to ignore this and escape. “Damn old codger, he should’ve listened when I warned him.” I turned around. “......He’s always had a rigid streak.” “I noticed. It seemed that way.” Damn old man. If he had just taken my advice, I could've skated by easily without all this hassle.