"......What?"
Northern Federation base, the office.
There, Archbishop Johan — who had been sitting leisurely in his chair, listening to the report from Niina, who had just returned — let out a remarkably flustered voice.
Disbelief, impossibility... as though he had just heard something that couldn't possibly be real.
"...Is that true?"
"It is. You know I can't lie — wouldn't lie. At least, not you."
He couldn't help but ask for confirmation, but Niina replied in a cool, detached voice.
"Just as I said. The reconciliation between the Third Princess's faction and the Harvist Knights has already been settled. I heard it from the Third Princess herself when we encountered her — and judging by the way those soldiers showed up, that's the only conclusion I can draw. Besides—"
Though her tone was flat and matter-of-fact, there was something almost amused in it — as if she were savoring Johan's rare discomfiture.
"The fact that soldiers showed up there at all — that wasn't part of my precognition or yours.
—The future has changed, hasn't it? Archbishop."
"...You're... kidding me."
He stared wide-eyed, forcing the words out, but Niina's words didn't change.
After all—
The constraint
was still in effect, and since he had ordered her, here and now, to "report without falsehood," there was no way Niina's report could contain any lies. At the very least, what she had perceived through her own senses was undoubtedly true.
"Gh...! Understood. Withdraw."
Even so, he formed the hypothesis that Niina might have been fed false information and made to believe it.
Therefore, in order to verify the truth of the matter, Archbishop Johan dismissed Niina, found himself alone, and immediately took a short nap.
What I'll use is—
the Ancient Magical Tool—
Skaldrogea's ability. A power of precognition granted in the form of dreams.
If I take a quick nap and glimpse the near future, I can determine what's currently happening in Harvist territory — whether the information Niina reported is true or not.
And so, the Archbishop dreamt a prophetic dream.
The current state of the enemy...
Just as Niina had described — the soldiers had reconciled with Liliana and her companions, and were now preparing to defeat the Northern Alliance. That much he was able to confirm.
And then.
He threw up.
"Uuogghhh—"
The moment he woke, he clamped a hand over his mouth and retched toward the washbasin.
Even after there was nothing left to vomit, it wouldn't stop — he spat out saliva, clawed at his chest, and still it wouldn't cease.
The reason the Archbishop had this reaction was because he had witnessed a future beyond his expectations —
No.
There was no doubt that what he had seen was the cause, but its target was not the future itself.
"Stop..."
What had caught his eye was the soldiers' expressions — as seen in that vision of the future.
Not the faces filled with deception and suspicion as they had been until now.
There was fear, yes — but beyond that, the conviction that they could protect this land with their own strength. That they could take a step forward, standing on their own feet.
Faces brimming with joy for tomorrow, hope for the future, and passion for glory —
──
Nauseating
so much so
Disgusting
,
an expression.
"Stop it — what is that radiant look, that elated expression? Don't show me any more of that revolting filth...!"
As if Nina had been worn down in spirit by the nightmares of her prophetic visions until now —
The Archbishop, too, had seen through the current prophetic dream the residual traces of that most detested, emotion-filled expression, and it was grinding away at his sanity.
And so, like a man muttering delirium, Johan wove his words.
"Stop it. Don't be ridiculous... I don't need any of that.
Don't be misled by something so vague, so ambiguous, so easily changed and uncertain. That is not what you should be — don't believe in those emotions...!"
Yes, because — and finally, Johan —
spoke his own conviction, his own faith, as though vomiting it out.
"...All you need to believe in... is God...!"
──Johan von Kantabel had a purpose.
A great path in life to walk, a grand objective.
That was — "to create a world where everyone can live in peace."
Born into a family that had produced pillars of the Church generation after generation, he had been taught that this was how it should be.
Johan himself felt not the slightest hesitation in making that his life's purpose.
And so, he began working from the bottom at the Church.
Through interactions with many people. Hearing the troubles of countless common folk. Witnessing how many nobles conducted themselves.
And then, he came to a realization.
In pursuing the goal of "creating a world of peace."
—
Goodwill
,
rather
becomes an obstacle,
it turns out.
Because.
"—We have found true love! If you dare interfere with that, we shall make even God our enemy!"
The ones who always turn the world upside down are invariably those brimming with love and hope.
"—My way is the most correct. God won't allow it, you say?
Then
it must be God
who is
the one in the
wrong.
"
The ones who behaved most selfishly of all were always the ones who let the banner of justice run wild.
Take, for example... well, the former Second Prince we just saw is a perfect case in point.
And people like that are precisely the ones who flip on the very emotions they once relied on most easily. I know that the eloping couple ended up killing each other over a twisted affair, and that Second Prince himself gradually fused selfishness and righteousness into one. I let him be, thinking he would self-destruct eventually — and that's exactly what happened.
— On the other hand, 'malice' is trustworthy.
Malice easily polarizes people's emotions. When directing malice toward someone becomes justified, people display their most magnificent unity.
So I tried it once. Toward a being with obvious flaws — one that no one would feel guilty for condemning. I permitted malice to be aimed at them in the name of God.
The effect was immediate.
Everyone gave thanks to God. All conflict among those who had sworn obedience to God was settled, everyone united, and a 'peace' was achieved — all advancing toward a single purpose: the annihilation of God's enemies.
Seeing that, I thought to myself.
...Ah, so this is how it should be done.
After that, I repeated the same thing over and over.
I placed convenient, suitable targets as God's enemies. The joy of setting out to defeat them, the hope... I controlled it all under God's name.
Because that was the most convenient thing, and the most necessary. People who didn't see it that way... people who didn't believe in God — their goodwill flips and reverses in an instant.
The true nature of humanity is evil.
Suspecting one another, envying one another, spitting on one another — that is what humans truly are at their core.
Goodwill is nothing but a facade. Suspicion, conflict, dragging each other down — that is the essence of humanity.
— And that is precisely why 'God' is necessary.
Believing that, I always prepared convenient enemies for the sake of the people.
And I made it so that anyone targeted by that malice was not truly 'human' to begin with.
And so, he steadily brought about "peace for all people."
He couldn't say when it had started.
It was simply that, as he repeated those actions and consolidated his position as Archbishop…
Hope, goodwill, conscience… every time he saw them, he grew to hate them to the point of nausea. That was all there was to it.
And so, this time as well—
"—I shall deny it."
Archbishop Johann, whose nausea had finally begun to subside, made that declaration.
With an unwavering resolve to press forward toward his goal.
"Very well, I'll concede. …Third Princess Liliana. You are equal to the former 'Sky Witch'—no, you are an even greater threat than she was."
Until now, Johann's precognition had never been truly broken.
The reason lay in the nature of his foresight: "the stronger a person, the easier they are to read." As long as that held true, the more exceptional a person was—the greater their power to interfere with fate—the more readily they could be manipulated to his will.
He had once used that very ability to brand the "Sky Witch," who possessed power that could have destroyed an entire nation, with the label of witch and bring about her downfall.
This time too… Ermes, who would ordinarily have been the greatest threat, was not the most dangerous adversary to Johann—rather, he was nothing more than the piece that moved most obediently to his will.
People he couldn't read simultaneously—people so weak they couldn't be read at all—were incapable of taking actions that could change fate or the future.
Until now, there had been no exceptions. Nina, the irregular of this round, was also on the "weak" side in his eyes. Even if she possessed the same power as him, she had been unable to escape his grasp.
And so, in this moment, Liliana leaped to the top of Archbishop Johann's list of highest-priority targets.
A person his precognition couldn't read, yet who held the power to change fate. Like Rose, she was a top-priority target for elimination—the very existence that had blocked his plan to erase Ermes, which had been proceeding perfectly up to that point.
And at the same time… she was an existence capable of granting goodwill and hope to the people—those very things he despised most.
"I shall deny you… you and every last one of your subordinates. You have no place in my world…!"
One more murmur. The Archbishop smiled ferociously.
As a fierce display of fighting spirit… and additionally, as an expression of joy.
Because he knows.
The expressions filled with the goodwill and hope he cannot comprehend—that he despises. The faces of those who believe nothing else exists.
He knows well that when he has smothered it all in malice and despair with his own hands, his heart is filled with an indescribable ecstasy.
His heart leaps with that anticipation, yet he swiftly and coolly constructs the calculations and plans needed to make it happen.
A plan to cast the Third Princess and those around her into utter despair. From all intelligence gathered thus far, the people surrounding the Third Princess—
—humans—
—and their relationships, along with the countless small and large pieces he has scattered in advance.
He combines them, layers them, and charts a path to drive every last one of those people—
—into checkmate—
—to the utmost, the procedure to present them with the finest—
—endgame—
—as a gift. Pushing his thinking to its greatest speed yet, he continues to think with everything he has—
—and the Archbishop sneered.
"…Good."
At the very pinnacle, at the end of all thought.
Because he found it: the supreme, unprecedented path—the only one there is.
He can hardly wait for the moment it comes to fruition, yet he admonishes himself not to let his guard down until he reaches it.
And so, Johann—the Archbishop who speaks in the voice of God through malice alone—
—set out at full force to deny everything about the Princess he has, for the first time, acknowledged as his true adversary, and all those around her.
That was the Named chapter.
Next time, after writing the Ermes side, we'll finally be heading into the decisive battle.
The Northern Rebellion arc is approaching its climax—I hope you'll continue to enjoy it going forward!