The Archbishop, Gregor Medvedik, strided across a ridiculously large corridor, led by his fellow Archbishop, Earl Ezekiel, and the Holy Paladin, Illya Ezekiel.
As they walked, there was nothing on Medvedik’s face but concern, concern, for a few days ago, a couple of weeks after the summoning, he had received from the Archbishop of Ainsley, after his return to the human continent, a package containing the dismembered corpse of one of Medvedik's subordinate bishops in the city of Beaufort, along with the severed arm of one of his fellow archbishops, special envoy to the Edouard family.
The package came from one of his fellow fourteen, the Holy Paladin Armand Aubrecht, but from the letter he received alongside the package, he understood clearly who had sent that package over.
The faceless one.
After eight years, he was back on the human continent. And, aside from the package sent to Gregor Medvedik, they were already receiving both his whereabouts and word of the chaos he was already causing.
So far, they have already lost one of the fourteen, the Lady Archbishop, Karen Caelus.
The Archbishop, Medvedik, recognized the Bishop who had been killed and dismembered and had been casually shipped to him. That man was the one who had been sent over that night to chase after the Faceless One. That man was the only one who had survived the Faceless One and his butler.
Medvedik knew what the Faceless One had against that person. It was for him a personal vendetta, and from the letter he received from him, he understood clearly that the Faceless One would come for him. He had already come for one of their fellow fourteen. It was clear to Medvedik that it would only be a matter of time before it would be his turn.
"Do you two think the Holy Aubrecht turned on us? It is without a doubt that he was the one who sent that package over to me. Did he betray us? " The Archbishop Medvedik asked his two fellow Fourteen.
"I would not be able to tell," simply answered Archbishop Ezekiel.
"Aubrecht is a taciturn man, but he does care for his family. There is no doubt that with his family in Beaufort, he would do anything to avoid harm being brought upon them," supposed the holy paladin Ilya.
"But the Faceless One is no longer in Beaufort, yet he never forwarded a single word. Wouldn’t that simply mean that he did betray us?"
"What if he did? What would you do if he did? " Then Archbishop Ezekiel asked back.
"I…"
"We all understand the current situation he is in. There is no doubt that he was in one where he was against a wall. I do not condone nor forgive his alleged treason, but, for the time being , we have no time or energy to dedicate to that matter," eying back at Medvedik, the Archbishop asked, "unless, of course, you want to go to Beaumont on behalf of the Church to enforce justice upon them? Together you and your cousin?"
It was impossible for Medvedik to not notice sarcasm in his fellow Archbishop's voice.
How could he forget what happened the last time he visited Beaumont with his cousin?
Medvedik spoke no words and shook his head.
"Fine, then don’t bring that up again."
It was impossible for Medvedik to not notice sarcasm in his fellow Archbishop's voice.
How could he forget what happened the last time he visited Beaumont with his cousin?
Medvedik spoke no words and shook his head.
"Fine, then don’t bring that up again."
They continued walking silently until they reached a giant room entrance. The door opened, or to be exact, magically unsealed itself. A radiant pattern on the gate before it opened, on its own, to their presence.
Medvedik had no idea where the siblings were taking him; he was just following along, but when he entered the massive room, he immediately realized.
"This room is…"
The entirety of the room was covered from the ceiling to the ground in a blue crystal-like matter. Upon entering the room, he understood that this place was just like his own family’s, a noble sanctuary.
"This place is where all the Pontifex of the church come for their final rest."
Majestically slumbering in their crystal coffins were the remnants of men who each, in their respective times, once ruled the church and, along with it, the world.
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After walking for some time into the room, they arrived at a corner of the sanctuary where Medvedik recognized, trapped inside his crystal coffin, the only man he had ever and only admired.
Getting on their knees, the Archbishop and Holy Paladin Ezekiel simultaneously and ceremoniously greeted, "It is an honour and pleasure to be granted audience, Your Grace the Holy Pontifex of the Church."
It came so unexpectedly that the Archbishop was at a loss for words until he heard a familiar voice call out, "Earl, Ilya, and... Gregor."
The Archbishop, recognizing whom the voice belonged to, went to his knee, "Your grace, it is an honor for this humble to knee in front of you. I apologize for my previous offense. I was unaware of the fact that your grace was still among us. "
"It is because I am not."
Confused, Medvedik asked, "Your Grace, I'm not sure I understand."
"It is not for you to know. Simply understand that as my time has already come, I am already slumbering, I am merely and simply partially awake. "
"Understood."
"Now, explain to me what you stand before me for, disturbing my slumber."
"Yes, your grace."
With these words, the Archbishop Ezekiel explained what they had come here for: to inform him of the Faceless One's whereabouts.
It was only while doing so that Medvedik dared to glance up, lift his eyes from the ground to discreetly glance at the Pontiff’s remnant. He saw nothing but just the Pontifex frozen in his crystal coffin, displaying no sign of life, yet the voice somehow came from somewhere.
"I see. I understand," the Pontiff said, having been explained the situation by Archbishop Ezekiel.
"Your Grace, please do guide us, what course shall be taken?" Both siblings asked, yet no answer came out, for a moment.
But when the Pontiff spoke again, it did not directly answer the sibling’s question, "Earl, Illya, explain to me his presence?"
Though the question was vague, Medvedik understood from the gaze he felt from every corner of the room that the Pontiff was referring to his presence. A question Medvedik couldn’t but understand was asked for, for from whatever had been explained earlier, his presence was completely unrequired.
"He–"
"Your Grace, I have a question I wish to have an answer for," Medvidik said, even cutting the Archbishop.
"Medvedik, restrain yourself!" Both siblings shouted at Medvedik.
"If you order me to lay down my life, it is imperative that I know before I die."
"Ask it," the voice plainly answered, yet unveiling with it the pressure he remembered being unleashed by no one else but the Pontiff himself.
Bearing through the intense pressure, Medvedik, having made up his mind to know the truth, asked, "Why was that Aubrecht child the one having Faty Adidy under? What is the Faceless One?"
Some time after Medvedik's question had been asked, the pressure vanished, and with it, the voice answered.
"Do you want to know the truth? Do you Gregor?"
"I do, Your Grace."
Having received Medvedik confirmation, the voice explained.
"Look around you," the voice first ordered, and Medvedik executed himself.
He looked around and saw nothing but the crystal and the remnant deep in their slumber.
"Nobles are born imperfect, but compared to commoners, we are closer to perfection than they are," the voice first explained, then, "When we die, we enter a death-like state knowing no decay while also, in the meantime, still continuously producing. Why do you think it is so, Medvedik? Why is it different for monsters and for us?"
"I would not be able to tell."
"It is because we, humans, were never meant to have magic."
"What?"
"It is because monsters, unlike us, who are born with flawed bodies, are born with a body accomplishing perfectly the duty magic exists for: to breed and expend."
"We, nobles, simply enter the state known as "Remnant" to compensate for the flaw we were born with, nothing more, nothing less."
Medvedik felt himself shaken to the core by this revelation, yet still ventured the question, "Why is it that way?"
"It didn't take us long to realize that by inheriting this thing called magic, we had become a part of something bigger, something, for us humans, of strength beyond the realm of our comprehension. What do you think that thing is, Medvedik?"
Medvedik thought and promptly answered, "a God."
Indeed, a "god", to be exact, a dead one, a perfect being, that yet still died. Humans, by becoming noble, become an extension of that "god". It has been thousands of years since the first of us discovered that truth. "
It was at that moment that something clicked inside Medvedik.
If breeding and expanding duty mana existed, there had to be something else it should have accomplished or aimed to accomplish over thousands of years.
"It can be!"
"Yet it can. By becoming magical beasts; by becoming nobles, we've become an extension of a godly being. A kind of being that, like its kins and brethren, merely considers death as a temporary state. Those who came before us understood that one day in the near future would come the day they would awaken from their death-like state, and that day would be the day we would return to them all. That day would be the end of us all because, aside from their disregard for the concept of mortality, Gods and Dragons share one trait in common: they do not feel; they merely see us, the mortal, the finished, the living, as an object for their awakening as it has already happened more than once in the past. "
"It has!?"
"It is to prevent that tragedy from happening that the church was built. We fight not only to protect mankind from monsters but also from the gods. It is for this reason that we kill and lie. To preserve this little piece of paradise."
"Now that you know the truth, what is it that you will fight for? You who call yourselves the sword and shield of humanity."
"To preserve this little piece of paradise." The three of them responded with utmost reverence.
"On behalf of those who came and fought before us, for the sacrifice made, and for those who will come after us, we shall retake the helm of our destiny from the very Gods."