“Listen, Your Excellency. The prophecy you gave us led the Hero directly into an ambush. He very nearly lost his life. Just who have you been receiving these messages from?”
I’d never believed in divine revelations to begin with. Someone was manipulating him to advance their own schemes. At first, I’d suspected it was one of the remaining members of the Seven High Cardinals. But if this temple at the foot of Spirit Mountain were to fall, the people’s faith in the Holy Church would decline as well. The Gods have forsaken us, they’d say. That would give the Church of the Hero more momentum too; none of the Holy Church higher-ups would want that to happen.
“Just stop and listen to me!” I shouted, grabbing him by the shoulders. “You’ve met a man with burns on his face, haven’t you? Has he been putting you up to this?”
Even then, I couldn’t see a trace of doubt in the archbishop’s expression. There was nothing there but absolute blind faith.
“I have heard the voices of the Gods! Now get out of my way!”
He roughly shoved me aside—but there was no hostility in it. He was just a pitiful believer, trusting in his revelations from the Gods.
“Fine, then just tell me—where are the demon prisoners of war?”
I got no answer.
“Aside from the prisoners you’ve used for these experiments, you still have the ones who were brought here from Arshelm somewhere, don’t you? The demons’ goal is to free their comrades! If we release the prisoners right now—”
“Alicia!”
I hadn’t even needed Cion’s warning. As the knife came flying at me, I blocked it with the cover of my bible and glared back at the archbishop.
“Their comrades?” he spat. “So that’s where your sympathies lie, Sister Snowell. The Gods weep to behold your treachery!”
“I’m saying that I don’t trust your so-called Gods! Are the Gods’ voices really what you’ve been hearing?! Are you certain those are the voices of the Gods we serve?!”
The archbishop’s faith was utterly unwavering, though.
“Oh, you pitiful, faithless bride. The Gods have bestowed Their blessings upon you, and yet you dare to question Them! Such astounding arrogance!”
As he theatrically prayed, the divine soldiers behind him began to pulse; from the looks of it, they were already on the verge of awakening.
“Just forget it, Alicia. This is a waste of our time.”
“Wait,” I said urgently.
No matter how dire the circumstances, if the Hero brandished a sword at an archbishop of the Holy Church, there’d be serious consequences.
“Please, Your Excellency. Just tell me where the prisoners are.”
The archbishop didn’t say a word. He just glared at me, then turned back around to continue preparing the divine soldiers. As I watched him work, understanding dawned on me.
All of the prisoners are already...
“You idiot...”
“Nonsense,” he shot back. “There is only ever one path we need follow!”
Once the demons learned the truth, we were done for. All that awaited us was a brutal, blood-soaked reprisal. Maybe we were just reaping what we’d sown, but there were countless people up there who hadn’t been party to any of this; we couldn’t let them get swept up in the violence.
But, wait. Even if he was just following his prophecies, he did send Cion out to intercept them—so was he trying to prevent the worst from happening? But then, why...?
“Why didn’t you flee? You abandoned the people back in Arshelm, didn’t you?”
“The Gods... The Gods spoke to me. They told me that They would be with us!”
This was just getting pathetic. He wasn’t even sacrificing his life for his faith; it felt more like clinging desperately to faith was the only way he could maintain any vestige of sanity.
“There’s no point in saying anything more...” I sighed.
I was already worried about the innkeeper and the others aboveground. At this point, all we could do was force our way—
“How long are you gonna keep hiding there like a coward, Mr. Right Hand?”
“Cion?”
She’d suddenly turned in a completely different direction and started speaking to thin air. The archbishop and I both followed her gaze, but I couldn’t sense any sign of anyone there. She just kept on going, undeterred.
“What’s wrong? Too scared to come out unless you’ve got your buddies to hide behind? I heard you were a raven, but I guess you’re just a chicken, huh?”
Cion gave an uncharacteristically mocking laugh, almost as though she could see that hooded man with the burned face hiding right there.
“Cion, there’s no way he’s really here...”
“Yeah, it was just a shot in the dark. But, looks like I had the right idea after all.” Cion casually drew her sword and turned around. “I’ll at least give you credit for not attacking me from behind, Slaven Raven.”
Her killing gaze stabbed through the empty space, and suddenly a man was standing there wreathed in black smoke. Beneath the hood of his dark red cloak, there were burn scars on his face.
“You will not mock the name my Lord bestowed upon me.”
“Raven, right hand of the Demon Lord...”
While he’d been hiding, he’d managed to keep his murderous rage concealed, but now it poured off of him in waves as he faced off against us. The blood vessels in his forehead bulged with anger, and his sharp canines were bared at us; he had the otherworldly ferocity of a vengeful ghost.
“You’re the one sneaking around,” Cion shot back. “I wouldn’t have needed to shit-talk you if you’d just come at us from the front.”
“And you’ve grown far bolder than you were last night, haven’t you, O pitiful Hero? It seems you’re the cowardly dog that can’t even bark without its friends beside it.”