The Regressor and the Blind Saint

༺ Gathering (1) ༻

“The end of false freedom.”

“Tr-true freedom!”

Inside the castle’s corridor, Vera walked with five souls.

He had a deep frown on his face.

‘How terrible.’

The stone corridor was smeared with blood and flesh in various places.

The stench filled the air, and the dim candles that illuminated the dark corridor only intensified the eeriness.

‘There are no guards.’

That was the odd part.

There were no guards in the inner castle, which should be protecting something important.

All that was there were apostates in robes, just as he had seen from the outside.

As his thoughts progressed, an apostate looked at Vera.

Unfazed, Vera spoke.

“The end of false freedom.”

He bowed his head deeply as he spoke.

Shortly after, a reply came.

[True freedom!]

The apostate raised both hands and answered, then passed by Vera.

Whooong—

The Holy Sword wailed in discontent.

Vera caressed the Holy Sword and spoke to himself.

‘Hold it in. It’s for a greater cause.’

Whooong—!

The Holy Sword wailed even louder.

Vera felt troubled.

‘It’s becoming more willful.’

Compared to when it was first created, the change was dramatic.

Its growing consciousness was now even throwing tantrums at Vera.

While it wasn’t a bad thing, it became annoying at times like these.

‘Who did you inherit this stubbornness from?’

The sword should have been more flexible, but it seemed to dislike anything related to blasphemy. Vera sighed deeply at the unyielding Holy Sword and stroked it again.

‘It’s almost time. There will be a time to act, just bear it a little longer.’

Whoong…

The Holy Sword’s protests subsided.

Vera smirked.

It wasn’t until much later that their journey, accompanied by minor mishaps, finally came to an end.

“Here… here it is.”

Camilla, the woman with straw-colored hair, whispered to Vera.

Vera looked at the iron door before him and responded.

“Is this the prison?”

“Yes. I definitely saw this door when we were moved to the altar.”

Vera nodded.

Then, he knocked lightly on the iron door.

A voice flowed from the inside.

[What is it?]

In response to the inquiry of a dark tone, Vera replied.

“One has died. We came to get a replacement.”

According to the information he had previously gathered, it wasn’t rare for a sacrifice to die during the ceremony.

Vera took advantage of that point, and the apostate accepted it without suspicion.

[Tsk, come in.]

Clang—

The door opened.

Inside were cramped iron cages and sparsely scattered humans.

Vera’s brow furrowed slightly at the sight, as if he were looking into a menagerie.

Yet, his senses sharpened.

‘There’s only one of him in here.’

The visibility was blurred due to the surrounding negativity, but Vera was fortunately able to grasp the situation inside the prison.

‘Is only one person managing this?’

After all, if the job was more about surveillance rather than caretaking, then there was no need for more than one person.

Vera stepped inside.

The five souls followed him in.

Thud.

The iron door closed.

Immediately after, Vera’s hand reached out toward the apostate.

Crush—

He crushed his throat.

Vera grimaced as the splattering blood stained his arm, and the souls with him gasped.

“Let’s start by releasing the remaining people. I’ll take care of cutting the iron bars, so you should all look for your family.”

“Ah, yes!”

Camilla and her group passed by Vera.

Vera wiped the blood off his robe and grasped his Holy Sword.

The Holy Sword trembled.

“Yes, it’s time to work.”

His divinity layered over the blade, sharpening it further.

Then, Vera swung his Holy Sword right where he stood.

Clang—

He executed a flurry of strikes at such a high speed that his arm blurred.

The metallic sound swept through the prison, and right after, all the locks on the cages were severed.

Vera sheathed his Holy Sword and surveyed the prison.

‘It’s mostly empty.’

Too many cells were vacant, even if they were emptied for the ritual in the hall they just came from.

There was only one reason that came to his mind.

‘Did they also take people to the other side?’

It must’ve meant that people were taken not only to the altar in the previous hall, but also to the altar behind the door at the far end.

Vera let out a long sigh.

He headed towards the faint presence that he sensed nearby.

He faced the dying soul.

Like the others he’d seen, this young boy was all skin and bones.

‘Even kids like this…’

It was only human to feel rage.

Vera knelt in front of the boy and gently brushed his head with his divinity.

The boy’s eyes slowly opened.

“Shhh… it’s okay. Take it easy.”

The boy’s shaky breathing gradually stabilized.

His eyes, once again closed, now seemed to be at peace as if he had just fallen asleep.

The child was already dead.

Although Vera knew that, he couldn’t bear to see him in pain.

Brushing off his rising bitterness, Vera moved on to another cell.

One by one, he stabilized the victims, and some of them even recovered enough to walk.

Then, Camilla and her group approached Vera.

“Did you find them?”

At Vera’s question, everyone except Camilla nodded.

Vera’s gaze turned to Camilla.

Her anxiety-ridden face and her action of biting her nails clearly indicated that her sister was not here.

Vera reached out and placed his hand over Camilla’s.

Flinch—

Startled, Camilla looked up at Vera.

Vera spoke.

“Let’s go deeper. You will be able to find her there.”

Camilla’s expression clouded over.

She looked as though she was about to burst into tears at any moment.

Her head creaked, and Vera withdrew his hand with a bitter expression.

‘All these people…’

They were the victims here.

Lost in a time they couldn’t turn back, they were still writhing in agony.

Woong—!

Suddenly, the Holy Sword wailed loudly.

***

Vera entered the depths of the interior.

The four who had found their family and the fallen victims were waiting in the prison.

Camilla was the only one who continued to walk beside him with a worried face.

“My goodness…”

Camilla covered her mouth with her hand.

Her widened eyes expressed her shock. Vera’s reaction was no different.

‘…This place is already close to the real world.’

No more stone buildings were in sight.

All that came into view were walls and floors partially buried in flesh.

Protruding from those spots were human corpses.

They were the elderly people.

The sight raised a question in Vera’s mind.

‘Where are the children?’

Thinking about Camilla’s sister and the child in the prison, there should certainly be a separate place where children were used. However, he hadn’t found any related clues so far.

Vera reviewed the knowledge he already had.

Fortunately, he remembered what the chatty Miller had taught him about sacrifices.

That annoying chatter was finally useful.

— What’s important in sacrifices is symbolism. What meaning the offering holds! That’s the focus. For example, see this bone necklace I’m wearing? It overlaps the symbol of a ’bird’ with that of ’death’, forming it into a necklace and imbuing it with the quality of ’shackles.’ Shackles from which not even death can free you, or wings that can’t fly.

— Hmm, I don’t really understand.

— It’s understandable if you are the Saint. Symbolism is often tied to visible characteristics… To put it simply, by using this necklace in a ritual, I can control beings from another world. I bind their free will and keep them under my control.

Useless stories were attached to the explanation.

The main point of it was one thing.

‘Symbolism.’

The important thing in a sacrifice was symbolism.

Vera approached the problem from that angle, thinking about the qualities of a child.

‘Innocence, potential, ignorance…’

Going through each word, Vera’s expression grew serious.

‘…Purity.’

He also remembered something Miller had told him.

— Purity is one of the most unusual symbols. The concept of purity itself acts as a ’vessel.’ It is often used to summon something or for possession.

— Hmm, this is also difficult…

— Actually, you don’t need to know this. After all, it’s almost impossible to use the symbol of purity.

— Why?

— The most representative sacrifice that embodies purity is a young life. There are also many ethically questionable options. Thus, those who use purity as a sacrifice are often special sorcerers. Due to its history, we have to go through more than five evaluations to tackle the symbol of purity.

He immediately had a hunch.

‘Summoning.’

If Alaysia’s ultimate goal was the manifestation of the Tenth, and if all of this was the groundwork for that…

If that was also the reason why the children were yet to be seen.

Then, one thing did not make sense.

‘The destruction of the Age of Gods was clearly caused by the Demon King.’

Moreover, the period this castle seemed to represent was the end of the Age of Gods.

Given that, what should be here was the body of Ardain, but the traces they had seen now suggested that the one who destroyed the Age of Gods was the Tenth.

This point was suspicious.

Vera let out a long breath.

‘…I’ll find out when I get there.’

There were no longer apostates in the hallway.

Tensing his body, Vera spread out his senses and said.

“Let’s go inside.”

“Yes…!”

Vera began to walk through the corridor that no longer even echoed footsteps, but only emitted the squelching sound of flesh.

***

While Vera was just passing by the prison, Miller spoke with a serious face.

“His arm…”

“Yes, it’s decaying.”

In front of their eyes, one of the arms that had been tormenting them was melting away.

So far, they had discovered about ten.

Trevor asked Miller.

“What do you think of this situation?”

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing. There’s no drop in deathly aura.”

Miller stared at the spot where the arm had decayed, and finally spoke.

“Perhaps the others have found some way…”

“His Holiness? Or maybe Sir Vera?”

At Trevor’s question, Miller shrugged.

“Well, what’s certain is that things have started to move, so we should start moving too.”

“Right! Are you ready?”

From inside the doll, Trevor asked.

Miller nodded and loosened up.

“Yes, I think this much preparation is enough.”

It was complete chaos around Miller.

There was a stake jammed into the floor, and strange markings were drawn on his skin.

He had a bone necklace around his wrist, and accessories were floating around him.

Miller looked forward with a tense face and smiled faintly.

“I didn’t expect to see that here…”

Far away, at the end of the corridor, was a room much larger than any they had passed through.

At the center of it was the figure of a woman drenched in blood.

“…It’s the Mother Spirit, the Spirit Queen.”

At Trevor’s words, Miller tensed up.

“The rest of the spirits will quiet down if we seal that, right?”

“Yes. If the Spirit Queen being bound was the cause, then it makes sense that the other spirits went wild.”

“Good, good. Let’s go.”

Miller’s hand pointed forward, muttering in a language that didn’t seem to be from this world.

Trevor unleashed his own divinity to assist Miller, and blue divinity overlapped above the purple smoke.

It began to condense at Miller’s fingertips and soon started to glow intensely.

“Let’s start with the first beating.”

Following Miller’s words, a sphere shot out.