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“Do you think you can escape?”

But even with all these methods, the cultists could not escape. Bishop Andrei and his inquisitors were skillful and quick to catch them. If they showed signs of turning into monsters, they killed them; otherwise, they cut off their limbs and bound them.

“Stupid bastards….”

One cultist, whose left arm was severed and spilling black blood, grunted and laughed, causing more blood to flow from his mouth. His battered face was disfigured beyond repair. Andrei laughed nonchalantly and tugged at the man’s hair, pulling his head back.

“It’s too late, it’s already too late…There is a reason that everything comes to an end. If it doesn’t happen naturally, then we have to use force.

“It would be nice if you could tell me specifically what we’re late for.”

Andrei enveloped his dagger in a warm yet eerie aura. He brought it to the cut on the cultist’s arm without hesitation.

“Aaahhhhhhhhh!”

“Don’t just scream; say something. The longer you wait to speak, the more pain.”

The cultist’s eyes then rolled to the back of his head, the white slowly turning black. Andrei clicked his tongue and decapitated the worshipper. The decapitated corpse of the worshipper wriggled on the floor, growing limbs like an insect’s. Andrei kicked the corpse, sending it flying into the corner of the building.

“It’s so annoying how they choose to die during interrogation.”

Arjen stared at the pile of corpses, wondering why he had accepted Andrei’s offer back then. Maybe it was because staying there would make him think about the past. ‘For what am I doing this now?’ Arjen shook his head, trying to clear it of the confusion that kept consuming him.

A request. Just a mission.

“I don’t see any of them being as convenient as they were then.”

“They weren’t human in the first place. What do you expect from a landfill?”

Andrei grimaced, and Arjen nodded. Most of them had been marked by a fragment of the Disaster as a last resort. An escape by turning into a monster to escape capture. They were narrowing their search based on the information the Bactin’s cultist had given them, but nothing useful was coming in.

“Let’s take a break and search the building. They must have tried to do something here.”

Andrei pulled a cigarette from his coat. With a cigarette in his mouth, Bishop Andre suddenly looked at Arjen and offered him a cigarette. Arjen took the cigarette and put it in his mouth. The Bishop drew his dagger and lit it. It had been a long time since Arjen had smoked. He took a long drag, and the smoke caught in his throat, causing him to reject it. Arjen coughed once, a slight cough, and blew out the smoke.

“How’s work?”

“…Work is work. I get paid and do what I’m paid to do.”

“Is there any other reason you thought of leaving Iris’ side?”

Arjen’s brow narrowed, and he took another drag on his cigarette.

“I couldn’t have stayed with her. It would have only led to conflict. Maybe if I just obeyed Iris, it would be the end of it….”

Arjen shook his head. That would need to solve the underlying problem. It might quell the chaos in his mind, but it wouldn’t give him answers.

“Well, I see.”

Bishop Andrei replied dryly, taking a drag on his cigarette before reaching for an ashtray and tossing the butt into it.

“That’s for you to think about. If you need help, I won’t say no, but I’m not going to pester you for it as long as it doesn’t interfere with your work.”

“I know what I’m doing, and I’ll do my best to keep it out of the way, so don’t worry about it.”

Arjen sighed and flicked the butt to the ground, and Andrei dutifully picked it up and placed it in an ashtray. Arjen snorted at the Bishop’s odd habit.

“You’re so careful to collect cigarette butts when cutting people to pieces.”

“Just because you don’t mind killing people doesn’t mean you can throw cigarette butts everywhere.”

Andrei rose from his seat, spouting his usual “righteous sophistry.” Arjen watched him in disbelief, then shook his head and followed him to his feet.

“Bishop.”

One of the inquisitors walked toward them.

“We’ve found a door that looks like an entrance to the basement. When we pulled back the rug in front of the fireplace, we found a trapdoor, and the energy leaking out is quite strong.”

Andrei looked back at Arjen and shook his head.

“Let’s go; maybe we’ve found a good lead.”

The inquisitors each took out a lantern and lit it. When they couldn’t find the key to unlock it, Andrei stomped on it until it broke and pulled out an elixir.

“…The smell is this strong without even entering. There must be a lot of dead people down there. What the hell are they doing….”

The inquisitors charged in, weapons drawn and ready. The smell worsened as they descended the stairs. The same peculiar aura of the cultists grew stronger until it blurred into a black mist.

“…What kind of basement is this?”

Arjen muttered. It was a large space, with a cool breeze rising up the stairs. The lantern’s light illuminated the stairs and walls. Stains of what appeared to be blood smeared them. After a long descent, they reached the cellar, and when they saw what the lantern’s light revealed, they all froze at once.

“What the hell is this….”

A large space. It was so large that it could have been called a cavern. Inside it, the walls had all been painted. No, it had been dug and built using unorthodox materials.

“Those are… people.”

People and naked corpses made up the great space in a systematic manner. Andrei approached the pile of bodies with a confused look on his face. He remembered the man he had just defeated.

‘It’s too late… It’s too late….’

What in the world was he referring to?

“Something like a ritual….”

Andrei muttered, frowning. A ritual. The kind of ritual they would perform worship. No, a simple worship ritual could not produce this kind of energy.

“…Summoning?”

Andrei looked up, his face contorted. Arjen’s icy eyes met his. Something was about to happen, something they couldn’t comprehend.

***

Arjen had once said.

“Do you think a man who would defend another’s world when his own is unstable?”

It wasn’t that I didn’t know. I knew what I could and couldn’t do. How could a man with something valuable not be afraid to lose it?

“…I feel like shit.”

I muttered to myself as I rose to my feet. The weather was getting colder by the minute. As winter approached, so did the Disaster. I kicked my blanket off with my feet. Resisting the urge to pull them back on immediately, I sat up, the cold air spreading from my chest, legs, and toes.

“It’s snowing.”

I muttered, staring blankly out the window. The first snowfall was early. It was early December, and the snow, barely enough to be called a flurry, was falling in tiny flakes and piling up on the roof.

“….”

I glanced at the Holy Sword leaning against my bed and sat at the desk in my room. It had become difficult for her to read my thoughts lately, but she could if she tried. I’ll have to talk to her about it someday, but not now.

“So…let’s see.”

I opened my notebook. There were notes in the notebook I’d started writing as soon as I fell into this world. The story of this world. How the original protagonists behaved, and how they fought against the Disasters.

“This one is for me to figure out.”

I frowned as I looked at the record of the Fifth Disaster, the Mist. My trials had changed and progressed based on my actions, but this one was even worse. A muffled grunt escaped my mouth, and I tilted my head back.

“…Not that I can think of any countermeasures now.”

I sighed. The best thing to do is to get stronger, of course. I’ve been training a lot on my own, and I’ve dueled with Marianne, Daphne, and Georg. However, dealing with a Disaster is impossible with superficial strength.

“I’ll succeed.”

I muttered and closed my notebook. I woke up earlier than usual today. I sat still in bed, closing my eyes and meditating, then gripped the hilt of my Holy Sword.

(…You’re up early, Elroy.)

The Holy Sword felt like she was getting a whole night’s sleep these days. Her voice sounded half-awake.

“It’s gotten quite cold, and it’s snowing outside.”

(It’s early this year.)

I picked up my knapsack, leaning against the side of my Holy Sword. ‘I need to take a short walk.’ It seemed Marianne was still sleeping. I pulled on my coat, wrapped my shawl around me, and opened the door. The sun hadn’t risen yet. I could see the snow falling on the streets. No one is walking down the street.

(You haven’t used me in a while.)

“It’s a good thing.”

I shrugged my shoulders and strolled toward the gates. I exchanged a quick greeting with the guard and headed out. It had been a long time since I’d been in the woods. A snowy forest is different from one in the summer. The snow cloaks the trees and hides monsters. The snow crunches and crumbles beneath my feet.

Ashen Bear. It was a roar I hadn’t heard in a long time. A sound that made me feel nostalgic. I watched the bear’s front paws fall like a guillotine toward me.

The snow around me disappeared. I threw my hands up as if to high-five the bear. The bear stared down at me, a small whimper escaping its mouth in panic. I slightly brought my hand back, and the ashen bear put its front paws down, looking at me warily and growling.

The bear decided to change tactics and lunged forward. I looked at the charging bear and clenched my fist. I stepped forward and threw a simple straight.

With the sound of crunching bones, the bear fell forward. It died instantly. I stomped my foot on the ashen bear’s body, pushed it away, and then sat on a tree before the carcass. ‘I guess I’m a bit stronger. I blinked and sighed, the sigh dissipating into steam.

(Is this what you call a one-hit wonder?)

“Is this how a cheat character feels?”

I glanced at the bear.

(You aren’t bragging about being strong. Is there something going on?)

Holy Sword asked. I shook my head and stood up.

“No, no. Nothing’s wrong. I was just bored and stopped by.”

(…There’s no reason to hide it from me.)

The Holy Sword sounded worried, but I waved it off with a wry smile. After taking down the bear, I returned to the city walls. The snow had stopped falling.

“…Hmm?”

I frowned as I spotted a man pacing distractedly in front of the headquarters like a puppy needing to go potty. Judging by his attire, he must be from the Holy Land.

“What business do you have at our headquarters?”

“Hero.”

The person who appeared to be a priest swallowed dryly and spoke tremblingly.

“We need you to come to the Holy Land.”

“The Holy Land? What’s going on in….”

‘No way.’ I stiffened as I spoke, and the priest nodded.

“The signs are ominous, and as I’m sure the Queen will tell you, the Holy Land has found signs of the Disaster within our borders.”