Chapter 19
Crackle, crackle.
“…….”
The flames slowly spread throughout the underground area.
Watching the followers of the Black Magic Cult turn one by one into charred lumps of flesh in the fire he had started, Johan fell into thought.
Anton Yates.
Just as he had said at the beginning, even Johan could not defeat him here.
His natural rank was certainly something that could not be ignored, but in the end, what determined the hierarchy among the Inner Gods was influence.
It did not matter if a god was infamous.
Simply being well-known was enough.
The best situation was having a large number of believers, but sometimes a few hundred fanatics with absolute faith were more effective than thousands of half-hearted followers.
And an Apostle was a transcendent being personally chosen by such a god to receive its authority.
An Apostle's power was greatest immediately after appointment, gradually weakened over time, and then rose again as death approached.
In other words, it followed something like a U-shaped curve.
On top of that, Anton had used the extreme methods of martyrdom and mass suicide to raise both faith and fear.
Because of that, his power had surpassed that of most high-ranking Apostles.
However, that was only true while he had absolutely no doubt about himself or Naberius.
The existence of Johan Blake—
A man who could not be killed no matter what Anton tried—
had caused a moment of doubt to appear in his heart.
What if I'm wrong?
What if I lose?
What if the authority of that man standing before me… is actually greater than mine?
That doubt had been about his own strength.
But at the same time, it was also doubt directed toward the demon god Naberius whom he served.
An Apostle's power came from absolute faith in their master or contractor.
The instant even a single crack appeared in that faith…
their overwhelming advantage would quickly disappear.
That had been the strategy Johan was aiming for.
But truthfully, even he had not thought the chances of success were very high.
There was no reason for the faith of a fanatic who had only just become an Apostle to collapse after a single battle.
And yet—
the strategy had worked perfectly.
Almost ridiculously easily.
“…Their level really has dropped a lot.”
[Right? Even if this is only the first floor, who would've thought there'd be an Apostle who couldn't even trust his own god?]
Whoooosh!
It was disappearing.
The kingdom Naberius had built through his followers was collapsing into pieces.
Before the flames could swallow everything, Johan left the underground area and stepped outside the temple.
As he walked, the tentacled goddess clinging to his side continued talking.
[But that's surprising.]
“What is?”
[I thought someone like you wouldn't believe in me at all. Hehe.]
“Of course I don't believe in you.”
[…Huh? Then shouldn't you have been unable to use your abilities properly too? Just like that guy earlier.]
“What I don't trust is your mental state, not your power.”
There was no helping it.
After all, it was her curse and authority that had prevented Johan, who desperately wanted to die, from dying for over six hundred years.
No matter how much he hated and resented her, there was one thing he could never doubt.
Her power.
To Johan, that was obvious.
[Aha… so that's what you meant? As expected of our Johan! You're so cool!]
The goddess spoke in a sweet voice as she wrapped her cephalopod-like legs tightly around his neck.
Johan indifferently tore them away and muttered.
“…I've wasted too much time.”
Finding two sets of Remains on the first floor had certainly been surprising.
But neither had provided a clue about the Great Remains.
It was something he had expected.
And the outcome had been exactly what he had expected.
There was nothing to be disappointed about.
If anything, there was something positive to take from it.
Back in the Holy Land of Karaam, he had fought the followers of Dagon.
Here on the first floor, he had fought Naberius's followers.
Both had one thing in common.
Their overall level had fallen far beyond what he had imagined.
For now, it was only a guess until he reached the true territories of the Inner Gods…
but the struggle for survival currently taking place below might be directly connected to the end Johan had waited so long for.
If that was the case, he needed to descend quickly.
Before even the remaining clues disappeared.
Boom!
BOOOOM!
Rumble—
The temple had been made by barely gathering whatever materials were available and forcing them into something presentable.
And half of it was made of wood.
Naturally, it had little resistance to fire.
The moment the blaze crossed a certain point, the temple pillars were the first to collapse helplessly.
It did not take long for the damage to spread across the entire structure.
Among the corpses scattered near the temple entrance, Danfos Corsi was the only person still alive.
He swallowed hard as he watched Johan calmly walk out through the flames.
“I knew… it would probably end like this.”
Johan silently held out his hand.
Danfos grabbed it and pulled himself to his feet.
Then he looked behind Johan.
“Inside… were they all wiped out?”
“I only dealt with one of them myself.”
Johan did not deny the rest.
Danfos let out a deep sigh and looked around at the mountains of corpses and rivers of blood.
Only a few hours ago, the village had been so peaceful that it was difficult to believe they were inside a dungeon.
The people had seemed satisfied with their lives here.
Small conversations and laughter could be heard all over the village.
Some had even joked warmly with the expedition members.
Now they were all dead.
Killed by the very people they had trusted.
Danfos spoke quietly.
“Yeah. This is the Dark Land. This is the Holy Land. This is the dungeon.”
“…….”
“I know. Massacres and mass suicides are practically monthly events in this world. I know you shouldn't get attached to people who might die at any moment.”
His gaze lowered toward the remains of an old companion, already burned until only bones remained.
“That's what I used to tell every idiot who wanted to join an expedition.”
His voice became bitter.
“Don't dream. Hope is what drives us into despair.”
He continued staring at the corpse for a while before asking Johan.
“But is this really all there is to this world?”
Johan remained silent.
Danfos looked at him.
“You should know, shouldn't you?”
His voice trembled.
“Is there really no choice except accepting this and submitting to it?”
His fists clenched.
“Because we can't defeat those insane gods anyway, are we supposed to be grateful every day just because we're still alive?”
His eyes began to redden.
“Be grateful that we didn't die today… and spend every day trembling in fear until the moment we finally do die?”
Tears had already gathered around his eyes.
The helplessness of having been able to do almost nothing while the situation collapsed around him weighed heavily upon Danfos's shoulders.
Deep down, he wanted something from Johan.
He wanted Johan to tell him—
No.
That's not true.
We can win.
