Among the mountains that ran through the center of the continent, dividing east from west, the tallest and most beautiful was Spirit Mountain. There was no shortage of tales about the place—legends said that a dragon had dwelled there in ancient times, that the holy sword that had slain a diabolical witch had been forged upon those heights, and plenty more besides. The summit remained covered in snow year-round, and the mystical mountain attracted large numbers of travelers. The Church, hoping to make use of that reputation, had constructed the Spirit Mountain Temple—a fortress city at the base of the mountain, with dormitories and training grounds for countless priests and pilgrims.
“Welcome, welcome. We’ve been expecting you, Sir Hero Elcyon.”
After we’d received word of the attack on the saint, we’d left the encampment before sunrise and managed to make it to the fortress within the day. Out in front of the gate, we’d found a middle-aged man waiting for us. He introduced himself as Archbishop Yosephon; he had a creepy, fawning smile plastered onto his face as he approached us, rubbing his hands together.
“What brought you out here to greet us?” I asked. “Did you receive a report from your scouts?”
His plastered-on smile refusing to budge even a fraction, the archbishop briefly glanced at me before turning back to Elcyon. “The Gods granted me a prophecy,” he said, rubbing his hands together once again. “They proclaimed that the Hero who vanquished the Demon Lord would arrive soon, bringing a bride with him. And thus, as Their humble servant and keeper of this temple, it was only proper that I should be prepared to greet you.”
As we talked, he led us into the fortress. We left our horses at the stable and walked along with him.
The fortress was surrounded by stone walls; I had no clue what they were meant to defend against, exactly, but they were obviously sturdy. Inside was an intricate temple complex, with a gentle upward incline following the slope of the mountain. This was the City of Trials—a grand, imposing place with a sense of long-accumulated history, perfectly in keeping with the atmosphere of Spirit Mountain.
But as we proceeded, one overwhelming note of dissonance seized our attention, drowning out everything else. All along the streets, demon corpses were on display like medals of honor.
“Do those have some sort of ritual purpose?” Cion asked, looking not to me but to the archbishop.
Still smiling, the archbishop shook his head no. “However, the Gods informed me that these would ward off evil—yes, They delivered a commandment. Soon, a large force of demons shall attack our temple, and so we must display these remains to keep them in check. ‘Show them what becomes of those who transgress against Our children,’ say the Gods...”
“So do these Gods of yours stand by your bedside and whisper to you?” I cut in. This all sounded like a load of bullshit.
“A bride ought to know better,” he replied, visibly annoyed. “The Gods are with us always, in all times and all places.”
His sermonizing tone rubbed me the wrong way; I thought about sniping back at him, but I didn’t want to stir up unnecessary trouble. I gave a polite apology and turned to look at the bloodstained roofs and walls around us.
There were no Gods. They were just a fiction created by the leaders of the Church who claimed to speak their words. So this gruesome sight was undeniably something that humans had willed into being—either the archbishop himself had wished for it, or someone else had made him do it. That was all there was to it.
“Everyone looks really busy,” Cion said, narrowing her eyes at the priests frantically dashing around. She’d picked up that I was in the archbishop’s bad books, so she broached our main topic in my place. “Why did you deny the mercenaries’ request for aid, Your Excellency? I believe you received word from them. You’re not going to say that the Gods commanded you to refuse that too... Are you?”
The archbishop replied with a slightly uncomfortable smile. “All will become clear once you see it. This— This is a special place...”
As he spoke, he led us through an underground tunnel a little ways away from the gates. We passed through a secret door, down a hidden staircase, and behind countless more layers of camouflage. Finally, we arrived in a large open space.
I slowly took it all in. “What on earth is this?”
“This is our anti-demon research facility!” he declared proudly. “It was established by High Cardinal Kyrius himself...”
I vaguely processed the name of the torture-obsessed pervert who’d governed Arshelm until Veiss had assassinated him, but my focus was drawn to the underground chamber around us. The facility was packed with priests, clustered around countless altars with things tied down onto them. As I watched, the priests recited incantations and stuck implements into their subjects’ flesh.
“What do you think? Magnificent, is it not?” Even as the archbishop fawned and groveled, I could hear the confidence in his voice. It was skin-crawlingly clear that he was eagerly anticipating our response. “Following His Eminence’s untimely passing, it has fallen to me to carry on this work! No longer shall we be forced to rely on mercenaries. From now on, we ourselves shall lead our divine soldiers to purge those monsters from the face of the earth! Our long battle against that race of darkness shall soon be at an end!”
The archbishop orated loudly, filled with an unnatural elation. “The time is close at hand!” he called out to the priests as they worked. “Now, let us complete them, just as the Gods have instructed! Let us imbue them with the pulse of life!”
“Yes, Your Excellency!” the assembled priests called out in perfect unison.
“When you say ‘divine soldiers’...are you referring to those disgusting things?” I asked with a grimace.
“I will admit their appearance still has room for improvement...” he replied. “However, their capabilities are indisputable. Perhaps the Noontide Lantern’s lover would care to test them for herself?”
An insult for an insult was his policy, apparently.
“It looks as though they’re made from demons...”
“Well spotted,” he said sarcastically. “I see your title as a bride isn’t simply ornamental.”
His gaze stuck to my body, practically licking me. If we hadn’t been here to ask for his help, I would’ve loved to drop-kick the old creep.
“So they are demons?” Cion asked, trying to get him to explain further.