Chapter 49: The Goddess’s Will (2)

The room looked as if a storm had swept through, leaving nothing but ruins behind.

“Cough!”

Clemens grasped his dizzy mind and checked his body.

There were no major fractures. He had likely barely avoided a direct hit.

Paladin Francis entered the devastated room.

Flanking him were two guard knights.

Unfortunately, there was no sign of the mage.

He must have realized that the more elusive he remained, the more threatening he became.

“No matter how much I think about it, I just can’t understand.”

Francis frowned as he surveyed the scattered torn documents all over the room.

They were all evidence of Clemens’s corruption and treason.

Among the papers strewn at his feet was a thick diary.

He skimmed through it roughly, and his frown deepened further.

“Hmph.”

He let out a dry sigh and quietly asked,

“What’s your reason? There can’t be anyone who’s treated you better than I have. Don’t you think so?”

Treated well— it wasn’t entirely untrue.

If not for Francis, Clemens would still be a low-ranking paladin.

It was rare for high-ranking priests of the Empire to personally select and assign new paladins directly under them.

The Empire and the Order had no shortage of better knights.

But Francis had recognized Clemens immediately when he was still a novice and had scouted him out.

“…On that point, I am truly grateful as well.”

That was sincere.

The treatment was no less than generous — perhaps even a little excessive.

The regular, timely rewards were more than adequate.

Not to mention the servants and residence, the custom-forged longsword, and the fine bloodline steed.

He had refused some of the armor and horses, but the gratitude was genuine.

“I wish you had stayed silent. You stubbornly refuse to lie no matter what. I’ve known you long enough to understand that much. I suppose even what you just said is sincere… so I’ll ask again—”

Four years.

It had been four years since he had served High Priest Francis.

Even if they disliked each other, there was no way not to know each other to some extent.

Francis’s lowered gaze flickered with unease.

“Why? Why did you betray me? You who have received my grace and who actually seem grateful— for what exactly?”

“…It has been four years since I began serving you, Vicar. Long, if you will. Short, if you prefer.”

Clemens slowly rose from his seat.

He opened the eyes he had been closing tightly and met Francis’s gaze.

“During those four years, not a single moment passed when I didn’t regret it. Not once did I doubt myself.”

His clear eyes showed no trace of regret.

Only a sacred fury burned within.

“…What did you say?”

Francis’s eyes flickered.

“You said it was the Goddess’s will. That everything you do and everything I command is the Goddess’s will.”

Swish!

Clemens drew his sword and aimed it at Francis’s heart.

“Slaughtering the innocent, stealing the possessions of the weak, assassinating those who don’t obey, casting out those who refuse to believe—”

Hatred filled his throat, choking him.

The one who gave those orders and those who obeyed were both loathsome.

“That is what I have done following you. No matter how you try to sugarcoat it— it’s an unchangeable fact.”

Francis’s expression darkened deeply.

“Surely, you’re not doing this now because of that? There are things in this world you must do even if you don’t want to.”

As if scolding a child, Francis spoke, but Clemens shook his head firmly.

“Don’t dress it up like a sacred book. I ask you: was that truly the Goddess’s will? Were the things I did truly what She desired?”

“I am a High Priest. I am the one who tells Her story—”

“No. Those vile acts could never be Her will. They are only yours, the will of High Priest Francis who borrows the Goddess’s name. Yes, you are not Her voice.”

The High Priest’s eyes flickered again.

Clemens bowed his head briefly before raising his gaze once more.

“It took me four years to realize this. How foolish of me.”

“Are you sane right now? I am a High Priest. I hear Her voice and speak on Her behalf. The will of Namur Nikerba the Wise, the Goddess—”

“If you were truly Her voice, She would remain silent her entire life.”

Yes, She would certainly do that.

Without a shadow of doubt, She would.

“What did you say?! How dare you spout such nonsense in front of me?! Are you trying to blaspheme the Goddess?!”

Now only raging fury remained on Paladin Francis’s face.

What Clemens had said was a denial of Francis himself.

“You are not the one blaspheming; it is you. Stop using the Goddess’s name to blaspheme Her.”

“You brat! Seize him! Break a single bone if you must! Subdue him immediately!”

The two guard knights slowly approached.

They were familiar faces.

Not only those two, but every knight targeting Clemens was someone he knew.

Hence, the tension was palpable.

They knew Clemens was also a paladin.

A tangible tension like a drawn string filled the room.

“…Namur Nikerba the Wise, how dare a blade following your name—”

Gripping his sword tighter, Clemens swept his surroundings in an instant.

His cold gaze sent chills down the knights’ spines.

“I will hold the Blasphemer accountable.”

Clemens quietly finished a short prayer— then charged at the knights.

His eyes shone with unwavering faith and vitality.

More than ever before.

***

Clemens fought cleverly.

He ruthlessly exploited the narrow room’s constraints, constantly guiding his opponents’ movement paths to overlap.

After bringing down two knights inside the room, Francis sought the mage again.

At that moment, Clemens dashed toward the window and jumped from the second floor.

“You fools! Seize him! I said seize him!”

Francis shouted frantically.

The mansion was already surrounded, so there was no chance of escape.

Still, wasting time on such a traitor was no welcome matter.

Francis’s gaze shifted toward the mage.

“Sir Tunetoris, you must assist as well.”

The stern-looking old mage cast a displeased expression.

“Is this not a contract? Didn’t you say only one or two spells a day would be enough?”

“Damn it, can’t you see the situation? I’ll pay whatever extra fees you want!”

At the mention of extra fees, the old mage’s expression quickly brightened.

Such a damn greedy old geezer.

“Heh heh, in that case— ah, have you assigned lodgings? The research schedule is backed up today.”

At most, two spells per day.

And a guaranteed minimum of four hours of research time daily.

That was the contract with Tunetoris, a mage from the Magic Duchy.

…What kind of insane contract was that?

Of course, given the urgency of the situation, the contract had been accepted.

Four-star rank but always a powerful card when it came to mages.

How many letters and gifts had been sent to that arrogant junior for that to happen?

“…Understood. Capture that one immediately! And of course, you will receive the bonus and research time.”

“Understood, heh heh.”

After releasing the leash, the junior was a bit irritable but undeniably skilled.

Since he was from the Magic Duchy, his abilities were natural — but a tough servant to handle all the same.

“Vicar, there’s a serious problem!”

“Damn it, what now?!”

Francis scowled immediately at the urgent call from the lookout.

There were already enough troublesome matters to deal with.

“The Lion Knight Order has launched an attack!”

Francis suddenly staggered, feeling a wave of dizziness.

***

Clemens frantically searched for the narrow path.

He knew he was surrounded and vastly outnumbered.

Even now, dozens of knights from the Luiten Knight Order and paladins surrounded him—

But no more than two fought him at once.

Thud!

“Gah!”

He struck the nearest charging knight with a pommel blow.

That one would probably be down for a while.

Following the fallen figure’s momentum, Clemens moved with the same steps.

He used his body as a barrier.

Lowering his upper body, slipping into his opponent’s blind spot— and launching a surprise attack.

“Kugh!”

He tripped his foe and kicked him in the head.

Two knights collapsed.

As soon as he confirmed it, he rolled on the floor.

Whoosh!

“Damn bastard!”

Another knight’s sword sliced through the air.

Clemens barely dodged and immediately recognized the attacker.

The rough tone and vulgar voice were familiar.

A known face.

“Huff— Sir Loric.”

“Yeah, Clemens, you bastard — you should’ve just surrendered earlier.”

“…Ha ha, who? You? As if.”

A clear sneer.

Normally, Clemens wouldn’t stoop to such cheap provocations.

But Loric had always envied him, so it might work this time.

“Die, you bastard!”

Loric’s flushed face charged again.

Feeling the effectiveness, Clemens met him head-on.

His sword’s blade shimmered faintly with aura.

Whoosh! Screech!

“C-Crazy— you’re using aura?!”

“Shut up, you talk too much. Also—”

“W-Wait— cough…!”

The blade sliced through Clemens’s throat without hesitation. — Three.

They exchanged cold, piercing gazes as Clemens awaited his final moments.

“Your spirit is too cheap. Go apologize to Her.”

After confirming the kill, he pushed Clemens’s body aside.

Simultaneously, he charged another knight before him.

The sword’s blade, infused with faint aura, flew in an instant —

Clang!

Amazingly, Clemens blocked the blow horizontally.

His reaction was impressive, but what surprised him more was that the opponent was also wielding aura, albeit weakly.

Without hesitation, Clemens counterattacked, but that was also parried.

He then decisively widened the distance.

Familiar white armor and a familiar face came into view.

A paladin, and one of the strongest, second only to Clemens himself.

“…Sir Clemens, must it come to this?”

Clemens, highly respected among paladins, was in an unpleasant situation from his perspective.

“Huff… Sir Rentholl de Sain.”

Rentholl de Sain.

Like Clemens, a high-ranking paladin of the Order.

Their levels were comparable.

Clemens caught his breath and scanned his surroundings again.

Three fallen figures lay near his feet.

Behind was a dead end.

To the side was a window of the mansion’s first floor, beyond which more knights could be seen.

Confirming he was completely surrounded, Clemens spoke slowly.

“To this extent? This is how it must be done, then.”

“…I understand your sentiment, but Paladin Francis is someone the Order has entrusted. Yet this—”

“Do you believe the Order’s will is the Goddess’s will?”

“The Order does not always speak the truth. If there is a fault, it should be fixed properly through formal procedures. Your actions are too extreme!”

Rentholl’s familiar face showed frustration.

He was probably worried as well.

But Clemens let out a crooked smile at those words.

Formal procedures?

“Hmph, procedures— do you think I haven’t tried that?”

“…Even so, this is wrong. You are pointing swords at your brothers!”

“What do you mean by brothers? If they stray from the right path, they must be beaten into their senses. Isn’t that what brothers are for?”

“You have betrayed us.”

“Better that than betraying the Goddess.”

“You’re impossible to reason with.”

The paladin had forgotten one thing.

That Clemens was unexpectedly eloquent.

He usually didn’t say more than necessary, so people often forgot this.

“If you continue like this, you will never survive. Don’t you truly know that?”

Rentholl de Sain asked again, exasperated.

But Clemens only smiled quietly.

“Thanks for your concern. But— you’re mistaken. Do you think I truly want to live?”

“…What nonsense is that?”

“If Francis is a vile hypocrite, then I am a dog begging beneath him. It’s just as disgusting. Ah— ‘dog’ is a poor metaphor.”

Dogs at least are loyal.

But what am I? Something less than a dog?

Unintentionally, a bitter self-mockery slipped out.

From the others’ point of view, that sparked a burst of anger.

“That’s nonsense! Who said you’re like that? You are the most conscientious and faithful believer of all!”

Clemens’s eyes widened.

Rentholl was no one to joke about such things.

A serious man who was meticulous and knowledgeable when needed.

A wry smile crept onto Clemens’s lips.

“A passionate confession. But I already have someone in my heart.”

“…Words won’t get through to him. Beat that stubbornness out of him if you must.”

“By all means, try. If you can.”

Just as the two paladins gripped their swords and faced off—

Clank!

“Woah—”

Clemens felt a sudden shiver run down his entire body.

Reflexively, he raised his head and saw something pale and hazy.

Magic!

“Kugh!”

Almost simultaneously, Clemens lunged—

“Furor Caeruleus, strike down!”

Zap! Crack!

Savage blue lightning flashed.

A current surged through his entire body.

That was his final memory.

Clemens’s consciousness snapped.