Muen opened his eyes.
Brilliant radiance gradually took its curtain call before him, like a flower withering away.
The world went from bright to dark. Dust was swept into the sky by a wild gale, vanishing into the endless night.
Broken walls and ruins surrounded him. The grand building that had once been magnificent now had less than half of its structure still standing. The dome with its crystal chandelier and exquisite murals had disappeared as well, and heavy dark clouds pressed down over everyone.
He had returned to that node again.
Muen took a deep breath, adjusting to the humidity, temperature, and aura that were completely different from a moment ago.
The stabbing pain in his body and mind had vanished, allowing him to clearly perceive his surroundings. And at this moment, what was stepping into withering was not only the radiance and the ceremonial hall, but also the old man before Muen.
Archbishop Ision.
Like some unavoidable opening cutscene in a game, one that had to be experienced and could not be skipped, he slowly collapsed before Muen.
Blood flowed from his body, gradually staining the ground red.
Terrified screams and wails rang out all around.
In the distance, the soldiers and horses gathered around the western district received this signal and began to advance rapidly.
The slaughter began.
Flames rose.
Despair descended at this moment, and was about to spread through the entire city.
“Honestly... no matter how many times I see it, I still can’t get used to this scene.”
Muen raised his hand, wanting to touch Archbishop Ision, but his fingers only closed on empty air, let alone trying to save him.
He had tried once, a very, very, very long time ago, but it had been meaningless.
Because although Archbishop Ision looked very close to Muen, so close that it could be called only one step away...
That seemingly short distance symbolized an uncrossable river of time.
Within this severed timeline, the archbishop’s death was already an established fact.
He was the beginning of all this, the foundation for everything that existed, something akin to a stage setting.
Therefore, Muen, who had already become an actor on this stage, absolutely could not change it.
Only by returning to the previous play could he change it. But if he had the power to rewind to such a distant past, there would be no need for him to keep struggling back and forth here.
“In the end, it’s still because I’m weak,” Muen sighed.
“Oh, you’ve finally admitted you’re weak?”
A voice came over, gentle like the older sister next door, yet carrying a certain mocking edge. Muen lifted his eyes and saw the Witch of Repentance not far away.
She gradually approached. The killing intent on her body slowly condensed, and black cracks appeared around her one after another, crushing everything.
As a Crowned, the fact that Muen could actually sense her killing intent meant she was truly furious right now, and truly wanted to kill him.
Here we go again.
The archbishop himself could not be touched, but this one was not fake...
Muen sighed again.
No matter which play it was, no matter whether she was an audience member or an actor, this old woman was never absent... so why was she so damn clingy?
“Muen Campbell, die here. What a pity. You will never be able to witness that great salvation, nor see the arrival of the New World.”
A terrifying aura surged. Even facing an existence like Muen Campbell, who was no different from an ant in her eyes, the Witch of Repentance did not hold back in the slightest.
This time, she would absolutely make this man—
“Hm?”
The moment she raised her hand, the Witch of Repentance’s expression froze completely.
Because... he had vanished.
Muen Campbell had vanished directly.
Just like that, without the slightest warning, with the situation changing so abruptly, in a manner even she had not reacted to... he had vanished.
He vanished without leaving a trace. Even with her perception fully opened, she could not find a single sign of him.
Only, in the place where Muen had been standing just now, the dust on the ground had been written over with some crooked, twisted words...
“Stop chasing me. I know you love me, but sorry, I don’t date old women...”
He had even had time to leave a message mocking her!
“Muen—Campbell!!”
After a stretch of speechlessness, only the Crowned’s furious roar tore through the night.
...
...
“Whew...”
In the corner of some alley, Muen’s figure appeared.
Black flames floated around him, constantly devouring the “aura” he gave off in order to conceal his movements.
“I’m a little more practiced again.”
Muen looked at his own hands and suddenly felt that being relentlessly hounded by that old woman was not entirely without benefit.
At least his ability to flee and hide had improved rapidly once again. It would not be an exaggeration to say he had stepped directly into unprecedented territory.
After all, across the entire continent, the only person who could keep escaping easily from a veteran Crowned with strength that had not yet reached the Crowned level, and with a one-hundred-percent success rate at that, was probably him alone.
His escape record was rapidly catching up to a certain disgrace among Evil Gods. If this continued, even in the humiliating field of escape ability, that god was going to be surpassed.
Hopefully, that god would not fly into a rage from embarrassment after learning about it, because this time Muen really did feel he had not done it on purpose.
If he could win, who would want to keep being chased and keep running away?
He was a man determined to be on top, to become the one holding the initiative!
“But then again, running away won’t solve the problem.”
Muen abruptly clenched his fist.
Yes. Running away was meaningless.
No matter how many chances he had, if he could not successfully complete his objective, those chances were useless.
He had to find the method to clear this stage.
Otherwise...
Within his mental space, although everything about Muen had returned to this moment’s state, with his mind no longer aching and his strength at its peak...
The black sun above his mental space remained enormous. Compared to last time, it had grown even larger, as if it was about to swallow everything completely.
There really was not much time left.
The moment to repay the price was gradually approaching.
When that time came...
Muen hurriedly reined in his thoughts and drove those thoughts he should not have out of his mind.
“In any case, I should organize what I gained this time first.”
Muen took out his little notebook again.
The information he had recorded before was written on it, and now Muen lifted his pen and added several more lines.
[Tyron successfully held out for two hours.]
[Saint Peron V used some unknown method to fuse himself with the grand barrier. Unless he gives consent, he cannot be touched.]
[This condition cannot even be bypassed by a Crowned. Otherwise, as that Donna said, the Salvation Society’s control over him absolutely would not be this gentle.]
[Saint Peron V’s state must be broken.]
[And the method to break it...]
Muen tapped the little notebook with his pen and sank into thought.
A flaw.
Saint Peron V’s method of fusing with the grand barrier definitely had a flaw.
Whether it was his own conjecture about the Salvation Society’s heavily guarded arrangements, or Gaius’s Left Hand Donna’s reaction, both proved this point.
Saint Peron V’s method of hiding in his shell was not perfect. There had to be some method that could completely break it.
That was exactly what the Salvation Society was wary of.
He had to find that method.
“But... how am I supposed to find it?”
Muen frowned and raised his head.
Not far away, firelight burned bright.
From the moment the archbishop died, this slaughter in the western district began again as promised.
Through some of the information he had gathered before, Muen understood that although this slaughter took place in the western district, it was not gradual in nature. From the very beginning, its target had been the entire city.
Because before this incident happened, Liya’s final destination as the Saintess on procession had been in the western district, and the ceremonial hall prepared there to welcome the Saintess and cleanse her of travel dust was also in the western district.
Large numbers of believers had gathered in the western district before the slaughter began. They longed to receive the Saintess’s blessing and the Goddess’s grace, so they desperately approached the Saintess’s carriage, crowding the streets and alleys.
Yet they did not know that longing for beauty and happiness, offering loyalty and devotion, had created the best conditions for disaster and death to arrive.
Around the ceremonial hall, large numbers of believers had hardly resisted before becoming dead souls beneath the blades of those controlled soldiers. And the surviving Church personnel in the ceremonial hall would naturally never abandon the believers.
But their rescue had been meaningless from the very beginning.
That was why, the first time Muen had arrived in the so-called “true royal capital,” the cathedral and the area around it had been so empty.
Death had first occurred in the areas where Holy Light could not shine.
“This is a little troublesome...”
Muen rubbed his temples.
What troubled him most now was that, under such an abrupt and precise massacre, although the soldiers controlled by the Salvation Society advanced gradually, the entire city had in fact fallen into chaos within an extremely short period of time.
Many methods of gathering intelligence had already lost their effectiveness. He had tried and failed to contact the Empire’s hidden lines left here.
So, even though he knew perfectly well that a flaw existed in Saint Peron V, it was still very difficult for him to find that flaw.
There were only two ways to find it. Either he had to start from the source, capture Saint Peron V right now and study him carefully, while slicing him up in detail along the way.
But from a realistic perspective... that method was absolutely impossible.
He could not even kill him. Capture him? Even daydreams would not dare dream that far.
As for the second method, it was to obtain enough intelligence from a third party.
Someone who understood the grand barrier well enough, understood Saint Peron V well enough, and understood the relationship between the two well enough. Only then could he use that information to deduce the flaw.
But as mentioned above, Muen now did not even have many channels left for gathering information.
Who could know information in this area?
The Empire and the Church could not be counted on. The Limping Priest? No, that guy had been a shut-in corpse-lover in the cemetery for decades. Most likely not.
Tyron? Even less likely. In the end, they only wandered around the bottom levels of this city. Their level of contact was not high enough.
Pero? No, no, no, what the hell am I thinking? They’re just a group of orphans.
Muen patted his forehead, trying to make himself a little more clear-headed.
“So I’ve hit another dead end... wait.”
Muen suddenly blinked.
Thinking about it carefully, was this problem really that hard?
No, it was indeed very hard. But hard was hard; did he really need to agonize over it like this?
Hadn’t he known the answer to this problem long ago?
“If we’re talking about who in this world understands Saint Peron V best, who understands the grand barrier best, who understands this city best, and even... who most wants Saint Peron V dead, and started preparing for it a very, very long time ago...”
Then of course, there was only one person.
An outstanding commander of the Kingdom army.
The genius prince who had once nearly broken through the Empire’s fortress.
The good son Saint Peron V relied on the most and trusted the most.
At the very last moment of his death, like some important NPC in a game stage, he had entrusted everything to the “protagonist”...
“Aurier!”
Muen quickly took out an emblem. It was extremely exquisite, engraved with a crown pattern so lifelike it seemed almost real.
At the same time, it also emitted a warmth that absolutely did not belong to metal, as if faintly guiding him in a certain direction.
It was pointing Muen toward the “inheritance” Aurier had left behind.
That “inheritance” Muen had yet to obtain.
In truth, from the very beginning, Muen’s plan had been to receive Aurier’s “inheritance” first.
Only, he had been held up afterward by one matter after another that had seemed more important at the time, and the plan had been temporarily set aside.
And now, when Muen had nearly reached the end of his rope, this still-undiscovered “inheritance” seemed finally ready to play its role.
Because just as Aurier had said back then, what he had left behind...
[Was meant to save this country.]
At that time, Aurier had not yet fully understood the Salvation Society’s erosion of this country.
Therefore, in his understanding and long-term planning, there was only one way to save this country...
“Don’t worry, Aurier.”
Thinking of this, Muen’s expression could not help gaining a few traces of emotion. He gently stroked the emblem, as if comforting Aurier’s spirit in heaven.
“I will definitely fulfill your last wish and let that old father you couldn’t bear to part with even after death... reunite with you in hell!”
...
