<92. Hell of Distrust (20)>
While Ha Eun-seong was thrown into confusion, those who caused it were equally disoriented. The heretic inquisitors stared with wide eyes.
'A black magician? And a dragon?!'
Min-jun was cloaked in shadows, his face and body obscured. He was clearly one of those sinister spellcasters who used human sacrifices.
But why was there a dragon with him?
'So, the Committee is involved.'
They weren't naive enough to think Min-jun was just a human from Earth. Despite the smokescreen laid by the headquarters, it was evident that the Committee had decided to interfere and snatch their target.
'They probably have no solid evidence, just suspicions. They've sent a convict to harass us. That means... this guy's a prisoner.'
Meanwhile, Min-jun was observing his opponents.
'The head is still in Joachim's hands. Why haven't they taken it?'
His gaze shifted slightly to the priest whose arm had been severed. The bleeding had already stopped. No incantations for holy magic had been recited.
For a skilled priest, even an injury as severe as a severed limb would quickly heal. They had internalized healing magic. While the arm wouldn't grow back, this level of recovery was sufficient for battle.
=Why is the Committee interfering with our rightful actions? Haven't you already granted us permission to cross dimensions?=
In response, Min-jun pointed a finger at the head, which was emitting a brilliant light.
"I'll be taking that."
The convict didn't explain that the Committee had placed a massive bounty on the head. Nor did he mention the orders to avoid any confrontation with the heretic inquisitors, and if unavoidable, to eliminate them completely.
Because he didn't plan to follow those orders.
"If you cooperate, I won't kill you. I also have some questions."
The inquisitors couldn't hide their growing displeasure. Their gazes turned harsh, as they felt utterly disrespected.
=Has the lockdown been that long? Has the Committee forgotten the power of our church?=
Blood trickled down their foreheads, and a fierce holy aura radiated from their bodies.
Min-jun narrowed his eyes.
'Religious fanatics... my worst match.'
Their healing abilities could even repel curses. He would have to use tactics similar to those he would employ against a dragon.
One of the inquisitors spoke in a slightly dazed mental voice.
=Joachim, please wait a moment. Let us deal with these intruders before we continue our conversation.=
As the three aliens closed in and attacked, the convict's body grew larger.
Joachim watched the unfolding battle with a dazed expression.
A brutal clash of monsters he had never imagined.
'Isn't that… the Korean agent?'
Though his face was hidden, Joachim knew no other black magician who used shadow creatures like that.
The shadows enveloping the agent shifted forms several times each second, launching attacks. Surprisingly, the three aliens seemed unable to overwhelm the lone agent.
Min-jun's movements, though seemingly wild, followed a precise and controlled pattern. His attacks combined animalistic savagery with calculated precision. The inquisitors narrowly avoided having their limbs severed multiple times.
The aliens, having been caught off guard at first, now focused with extreme caution. The shadows that flew at them managed to graze their skin, but inflicted no serious wounds. However, the small injuries still drained their holy energy as they healed. Despite the 3-on-1 battle, it appeared the agent had the upper hand.
'He's… not trying to kill them!'
Joachim realized something.
'I might not know all of their vital points, but decapitation or a blow to the head should kill them. Like it did my father. But Min-jun is avoiding those critical spots.'
One of the inquisitors, perhaps growing desperate as the fight wasn't going as expected, gathered holy energy for a powerful attack.
Fwoosh!
A blinding light shot out from the alien's hand. It lacked heat, but Min-jun instinctively twisted his body to dodge. The holy beam grazed his shoulder, and shadows shattered like boiling oil splashing into water, scattering in all directions. The exposed skin beneath was raw and bubbling.
Kwaaarrr!
The holy magic, with its healing properties, hyper-activated the cells, causing a harmful effect on unharmed areas. A large, tumor-like mass swelled on Min-jun's shoulder.
But.
Shlunk!
Without hesitation, Min-jun plunged the ritual dagger into the tumor.
Pop!
The swollen flesh, larger than a watermelon, burst, spraying blood and tissue. The crimson remnants quickly evaporated in the air. Despite having just torn apart a chunk of his own body, the agent resumed his assault without so much as a groan.
Joachim thought the shadows around Min-jun seemed to darken further, though he couldn't be sure if it was just his imagination.
'Who is he? Why has he come all the way from Korea to fight the inquisitors?'
In his current knowledge, Joachim couldn't link the agent's identity to the Committee.
'No, what does that even matter right now?'
Joachim had to make a decision. Contrary to his expectations, the fight didn't seem like it would end quickly or decisively. The agent and the inquisitors were fully engrossed in their battle, or so it seemed.
Now, he had to decide what to do.
He thought about the inquisitors' proposal.
'They want to take me to their dimension?'
Should he go?
They had said he would participate in the final ritual, help awaken the gods from their slumber, and be marked with an indelible scar that would grant him eternal life.
The answer came quickly.
'I can't trust them!'
Even after hearing the church's secrets, which he had persistently demanded from his adoptive father.
Joachim couldn't trust what they had told him.
Especially the shocking tale of the primordial beings. Those who dream this world into existence. The ones who would someday destroy the false world and grant eternal life through memory.
The gods Joachim had worshipped and served with pious devotion.
Were such beings...
'Lost in a blissful dream... unaware that blood is pouring from their necks? Just sleeping through it all?!'
The idea that the beings living in the false world collected divine blood as currency was something Joachim couldn't accept. It was beyond sacrilege—it was repugnant.
When Joachim heard about the beings being drained of their blood while still alive, the image that came to his mind was that of an African tribe. Primitive people who continued practices even vampires had abandoned.
A scene he had seen somewhere. People piercing the necks of emaciated cattle. When the blood spurted out, they quickly placed filthy plastic containers to catch every drop. Bloodletting didn't necessarily mean slaughter. They would draw just enough to avoid killing the cattle, then smear the wounds with mud or hot ash to coagulate the blood. And then they would wait until the blood replenished. After that, they would pierce the necks again...
'This is absurd! There's no way the primordial beings could be consumed in such a manner!'
Joachim's thoughts became frantic.
'That's not divinity… That's more like… livestock!'
It was revolting. Even attempting to accept it as truth was revolting and nauseating.
'It's all lies.'
Like many, Joachim had clear criteria for what he chose to believe. He believed what he wanted to believe and disbelieved what he didn't want to accept.
Just as he had once refused to accept the reality of the world, deeming it false in his childhood, he now chose not to believe the inquisitors' words.
Because those livestock were not the gods he served. They couldn't be gods.
So Joachim decided to run.
=No, you can't!=
Joachim fled, carrying his adoptive father, leaving the heretic inquisitors in shock. They hadn't anticipated this reaction. They had revealed the truth he so desperately sought and offered him a chance at eternal life—why would he run away?!
They attempted to chase after Joachim immediately, but Min-jun didn't allow it. The inquisitors recoiled in fear as shadows wrapped around them, shaking them off.
In the end, it wasn't the inquisitors who stopped Joachim's escape; it was someone they had completely forgotten about.
=!=
Ha Eun-seong, who had been momentarily dazed, snapped back to reality at Min-jun's shout in his mind.
His initial shock and fear quickly turned into anger.
'These aliens... they're connected to the bastard who killed me!'
No matter what happened, he couldn't let the aliens get what they wanted. He couldn't let that familiar glowing object fall into their hands.
'Where do you think you're going?!'
Min-jun had clearly instructed him: 'If someone tries to run, just breathe fire on them! They won't die from it anyway!'
Taking a deep breath, Ha Eun-seong recalled the practice he had done before. Though he had never actually breathed fire, he had trained up to the brink many times.
He compressed the air within him to its limit.
Fwooooosh!
As he exhaled with all his might...
"!"
The night over Bremenhaven was momentarily split apart.
A searing beam of heat shot up from the ground, piercing through the darkness. The black sky cracked open, letting daylight seep through. The city, devoid of shadows, glowed a fiery orange. At the center of it all, a raging firestorm swirled.
Kwaaaaarrr!
Though unintended, the flames tilted slightly upward instead of staying level with the ground. This was fortunate for the city's residents and for Ha Eun-seong, who had unleashed the breath. Instead of engulfing the city, the flames shot harmlessly into the sky, sparing countless lives and leaving the intended target's head unscathed.
Nevertheless, everyone was left in a state of shock.
The attacks from Min-jun and the inquisitors came to a temporary halt. The agent looked at the dragon with a bewildered expression. But the most surprised person was Ha Eun-seong himself.
=Wh-what... is this...?=
He hadn't meant to release such a powerful blast, yet half the building had been completely obliterated!
The walls crumbled, and flames flickered along the curved outline of the breath attack. Inside, steel beams melted and slowly dripped down.
Joachim, clutching his head, sank to the ground. His escape had been thwarted, but the process had been overwhelmingly excessive. Missing his aim had been a stroke of luck.
Min-jun clicked his tongue inwardly, his grumbling mixed with emotions that were not entirely his own.
'This brat hasn't even lived a hundred years and his fire is this intense? He's going to cause a disaster if we combine forces.'
His thoughts quickly returned to his convict persona. As the inquisitors froze in place, Min-jun lashed out with a shadow whip aimed at the kneeling Joachim.
=What?!=
A scream followed.
"Aaaargh!"
The sharp shadow severed the bishop's arm, sending the head he had been holding flying into the air.
It made a short arc...
And rolled across the ground.
One of the aliens lunged forward—not to save Joachim, but to snatch the rolling head. However, Min-jun blocked the way, and another inquisitor intercepted the shadow tendril aimed at the head.
The battle resumed, with no one paying attention to Joachim. In fact, it seemed they implicitly welcomed the current situation. A high-ranking bishop wouldn't die just because he lost an arm. His movements were now restricted, and the head had been taken from his grasp.
Or perhaps, his life and death simply didn't matter to them. Maybe.
"······!"
Joachim, struggling in the pool of his own blood, suddenly realized something was wrong.
'······Why am I not healing?'
A cleric of his caliber should have seen the usual signs of recovery by now. Though his arm had been severed, the wound should have closed quickly. Min-jun knew this, which is why he had cut it off.
Yet the wound remained severe, blood gushing out continuously.
Only then did Joachim start chanting a holy spell. But...
'?!'
The power that had always been present within him since he first awakened to his abilities was now absent. Joachim couldn't comprehend what was happening.
After several more failed attempts, he began to feel his mind growing heavy.
'Cold...'
A massive amount of blood continued to pour from the unhealed wound. His body started to feel as cold as ice. His vision blurred, and a chilling cold crept in from all directions.
Through his wavering sight, he saw the discarded head of his adoptive father lying on its side, its cheek soaked in red blood.
Amidst the overwhelming pain, the priest thought:
'It's all lies, isn't it? Father!'
The Patriarch had killed the bishops he raised as his own children with his own hands—brutally.
Joachim had always believed this was an irreversible mistake made by someone driven mad by insanity.
But what if it was done with a clear purpose? What if the compulsion to return to their homeland wasn't the delusional obsession of a madman, but the religious zeal of someone desperate for eternal life?
What if his father had killed them in his quest for immortality?
'If what they said is true... were you truly mad?'
No, it couldn't be true.
He desperately denied it. It had to be all lies.
Meanwhile, the pain gradually faded, growing duller, until finally, it enveloped Joachim in a warm embrace.
Only then did he feel an overwhelming sense of exhaustion.
In his mind, he muttered:
'I want to sleep.'
He didn't want to do anything anymore. He just wanted to sleep deeply, without any dreams. And if he did dream, he wished he could fall asleep again within that dream.
He just hoped it wouldn't be a nightmare.
Darkness welled up from beneath his eyes, slowly rising. Joachim didn't resist it.
<92. Hell of Distrust (20)> End