Lucian Thorne stood on the execution platform, the coarse wood groaning under his weight.

His hands were bound tightly behind him, yet his posture was calm, almost regal.

Before him hovered a translucent red system window, its ominous text glowing faintly:

[CROSSROAD MISSION]

[You have exceeded all mission parameters, igniting the faith of countless believers.]

[You have proven yourself a worthy vessel.]

[The time has come to demonstrate your ultimate devotion.]

[Now, die.]

[Prove your faith through sacrifice.]

[Clear Condition: Death of Lucian Thorne]

[Rewards: ???]

The herald's voice rang out, amplified by the silence of the crowd.

"Lucian Thorne, exiled bishop of the Holy Church of Rem. You stand accused of betraying your Lord, the Count, by spreading revolutionary fervor among the good people of Kraina.

"For the crime of treason, you are hereby sentenced... to death."

Lucian's gaze swept over the gathered crowd. Their expressions were a tapestry of sorrow, fear, and quiet outrage.

He noticed the subtle tremor in clenched fists, the suppressed sobs, the simmering anger bubbling just below the surface.

Yes. This is how it must be.

His lips curled into a faint smirk.

The seeds have already been sown. My death is merely the sun that will force them to bloom.

Lucian stepped forward, unyielding, as the executioner looped the noose around his neck. The coarse rope bit into his skin, but he felt no pain, only clarity.

In front, Count Kraina watches, smirking in victory.

Faith is a weapon, sharper than any blade, deadlier than any poison.

You may think that this is the end... but it's only the beginning.

The executioner adjusted the lever, waiting for the signal. Lucian took one last glance at the crowd.

Beneath the despair, he saw what he had worked so hard to ignite:

The embers of revolution, ready to explode into an unstoppable inferno.

His heart pounded, not with fear, but with exhilaration.

It's done.

With this act of sacrifice, my plans shall reach their zenith.

Kraina will burn.

*

*

*

And from its ashes,

I shall rise as their Messiah!

The platform gave way beneath him.

The world blurred into darkness, and the system's cold, mechanical voice whispered in his mind:

[You have died.]

[Mission completed.]

[Calculating achievements...]

[Achievements exceeded threshold.]

[Calculating rewards...]

[You have received—]