Above the stranger’s line-of-sight, the pendants flew straight at him. When it collided with his head, it was lit in flames. He didn’t react as it spread all around his body.

When his body erupted into a single flame, it cast shadows which flickered brightly across the battlefield. Rain poured down on them, but was unable to extinguish the fire.

Instead, the rain evaporated immediately, producing vicious sizzles. This was no ordinary fire — it would not stop until everything was turned into ash.

Beyond the flame’s veil, the stranger’s melting lips curled into a smile.

Shivers ran down Deus’s spine, thinking back at the mother who'd threw her infant and didn't give in, even at death's door. Was it faith or insanity which drove him?

At the same time, his eyebrows furrowed as he noticed a particularity. There was an invisible string attached to his head, exposed only as it caught fire.

No, I’m mistaken! It’s actually multiple strings! Deus’s stomach churned as he noticed the strings were strung into their direction, as well as towards the first wagon.

He gritted his teeth and shouted, “Sir, Brother Zarael!”

Immediately, Brother Zarael’s attention was drawn to the middle-aged man who’d already long been exposed as possessed by Sister Mary and Father Art. It was evident to him he was related to this heretic, possibly directly responsible.

Brother Zarael threw him a bitter look, but listened regardless.

“There’s something seriously wrong, you need to extinguish the fire!”

While eyeing Deus on the edge of his peripheral vision, he glanced back and forth. It took him a few glances before he finally noticed this particularity as well. As he realized the string’s implications, his skin turned visibly pale.

With a limp, he swiftly staggered towards the smiling man. Beyond the blindfold, his eye sockets were completely empty, adding to the terrifying atmosphere. The man’s melting flesh plunged to the ground, exposing his mandible and teeth.

Notwithstanding, Brother Zarael tilted his head slightly in disgust, but kept moving forwards. None of that mattered anymore — all of their lives were on the line.

Brother Zarael arrived in front of the stranger, indifferent to the scorching heat which radiated from his collapsing body. He shot forth his hands and into the flame, clutching his neck tightly.

However, the man’s flesh was extremely tender, falling apart at the slightest touch. In the end, he only took hold of his cervical vertebrae. His hands trembled.

“S-Stop that,” said Brother Zarael, his tone tinged in desperation. He gritted his teeth and raised his voice, screaming, “Stop it!”

His voice echoed throughout the windswept fields. It was too late.

Even if the stranger’s lung was still operating, there was no way for it to supply air to the vocal cords. Above all, Deus seriously doubted his brain was still intact.

Although the fire had now reached the midpoint of the string, Deus had long calmed down. Now that the strings were more visible, it was clear there was no string attached to his head.

It seemed as if only those under the influence of his mind-control were attached to the strings. This much, he had suspected earlier as well. However, although he hadn’t noticed any tampering with his mind, it was possible he’d simply been made to think so.

Now that all connections were exposed and he found none were attached to his head, he’d come to terms with the implications.

All of the sudden, a piercing scream erupted in his head. Similar to when this voice had told him not to abandon that infant, it was neither foreign nor familiar.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

What’s this? Is this [ Fragmented Self ]? He placed his throbbing forehead in his palm.

After what had happened before, he’d concluded this voice was neither malicious nor friendly.

He turned behind. The crowd consisting of the policeman, the coachman, Misses Pinker, Monte and Mariel were all clinging tightly against each other, seeking each other’s warmth. However, it was not the coldness of the damp winter, but of the horrors witnessed.

Monte caressed Mariel’s head as she weeped in an effort to calm her nerves. However, fright was all written over his face, exposing his true feelings. He directed his wide eyes to Deus, seeking comfort from the man who he’d shared a smoking pipe with just a few hours earlier.

Naturally, as they didn’t peek from the wagon, the crowd hadn’t yet caught sight of the string which doomed above them.

Deus averted his gaze. He knew the future which awaited them, what was the use of doing anything?

Meanwhile, Brother Zarael plunged to the ground, fainting. He’d neglected the scorching heat of the flames, causing both of his hands to be charred beyond recognition.

Deus surmised that as he wasn’t directly ‘connected’ to the stranger via a string, the fire wouldn’t directly encroach on his body — despite that, it would still affect the external environment.

Deus took a last glance back at the anxious crowd, then turned to walk towards the pitiful corpse of the officer. Just moments ago, he'd held the authority, upholding their so called 'justice'.

However, what did these concepts, 'authority', or 'justice' amount to? There was only flesh and bones.

He sighed. My situation is quite hopeless… Thus far, only the circumstances paired with some deception have allowed me to survive…

I’ll have to loot him. Otherwise, I’ll be defenseless once the cult or church locates me. It seems like they have the methods necessary.

“W-Wait,” said Monte, grabbing him by the collar. “Where are you going?”

Deus turned, beholding his pleading eyes. However, while exposed to the nature of this world, he felt like straying even further from his past self. By now, it was but a mirage, as if faintly remembering a past dream.

Again, a strange scream erupted, mingling with his thoughts. His head throbbed severely, and he spewed a little blood.

Fuck.

Save them!

He gritted his teeth.

Save them? How?

A strange yet intense sense of despair emerged, and he caught a tear welling in his eye.

Fate doesn’t know compassion. It doesn’t budge to human pleads! What do you intend to do?

Deus mustered his focus, drowning all cries. Despite not being malicious, they could put him in a tough spot, especially if they were to emerge in tense situations that required his focus.

When he returned to reality, he noticed Monte’s hand placed on his shoulder, his expression contorted in concern.

“Are you alright?”

Deus’s gaze lingered in the distance, unfocused. Then, he stared straight back at him. A strand of hair from his balding head had caught fire, but gone unnoticed by him.

“You should return to your daughter.”

“Wh–”

“Do it.”

Monte was taken aback, but nodded. With a queasy mind he turned, disappearing behind the wagon again.

Deus crouched down to the officer who’d shot himself, picking up the percussion pistol which sat in a puddle of rain.

Nervous stammers resounded from behind the wagon, and Deus’s head turned slightly.

They should have noticed by now.

That’s when his gaze fell upon the stranger’s charred corpse, which crumbled slowly and dissolved in the rain and wind.

Before him floated a translucent orb, triggering a sudden flashback of the aftermath of the battle in the manor’s stall. He reminisced of these crooked letters wriggling in the air, warning him of some instability.

Meanwhile, an intense desire to absorb it nearly overtook him. However, he had already experienced this desire, and was more readily equipped to deal with it.

Deus narrowed his eyes. The risks associated with absorbing this orb were far too high. Under no circumstances would he purposefully give in to these desires.

Under utmost focus, he sneaked behind Brother Zarael’s body, attentively waiting for the orb to approach them. Meanwhile, he pulled up Brother Zarael by his curly black hair and snatched his chain. Although the moon-shaped pendants weren’t attached, he surmised they would return after the fire extinguished.

At that moment, the nervous stammers had turned into an intense screaming, piercing both the rain’s splashing and the sky’s growling.

Deus didn’t react immediately, instead waiting for the orb to conjoin with Brother Zarael’s body. When it did, he relaxed slightly.

He followed the screams, turning around the corner of the wagon. There lay the crowd, writhing in agony as flames consumed them. Monte embraced his daughter, Mariel, tightly in her arms.

Deus raised the pistol, lining it up with both their heads.

“Consider this mercy.”

Bang!