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“What do you mean by ambush?”

I asked Ian, who was leading the way, but he responded without even turning his head.

“It’s not anything grand. But it is troublesome, that’s for sure.”

Indeed, the people inside the cathedral were moving orderly. Judging by the atmosphere, it seemed like such incidents were rather common.

“Is it an attack from the Demon King’s Army?”

“Not at all. They’re just like us, humans.”

“Humans?”

Having pieced together the clues, I voiced my conclusion.

“Is it people opposing the Church?”

“Just as I thought, my dear Elliot. Your insight is remarkable. That’s right. They are subversive elements who disapprove of our noble ‘hunting’.”

Well, it’s not surprising that such a faction has emerged.

The Tsar seems to be using the Purification Church as a means to stabilize the populace, yet they turn a blind eye to the fact that the possessed are being turned into candy during broad daylight, which is even stranger.

“Then is it something like an anti-oppression demonstration?”

“Not exactly. They are engaging in deeper activities than mere protests.”

“Deeper activities?”

Ian shrugged his shoulders.

“Terrorism.”

“….”

It seems this world is one of extremes.

—

Ian guided us to a small cathedral on the outskirts of the Ice Palace. One wall had already collapsed, and the bell tower leaned in a foreboding manner. Patches of flame flickered below.

“It’s the work of reactionaries. They often use explosives. Of course, they seem to have some sense—otherwise, they wouldn’t strike near the Ice Palace itself. If they had, the Tsar would have stepped in himself.”

With a sigh, Ian overturned some debris.

No corpses were in sight.

A soldier, who was trying to manage the situation nearby, approached and whispered in Ian’s ear.

“Well, fortunately, it seems there were no casualties on our side this time, but it looks like they took a holy relic.”

“A holy relic?”

“The Holy Grail of our leader. It’s placed in each cathedral.”

“….”

“It must be recovered. For the sake of our authority.”

It’s hard to understand how the leader of the diocese could regard his possessions as something sacred, but the fact that it was taken leaves me even more bewildered.

What is this if not a cult?

“Why are they committing terrorist acts? To protect the possessed?”

“If it were simply for protection, they would act more discreetly.”

“Then what on earth…?”

“They aim to dismantle the Church under the pretense of protecting the possessed. It’s an extreme ideology. Above all, the possessed are all affiliated with the Demon King’s Army. If they claim to protect the possessed, it’s not surprising to consider them as factions loyal to the Demon King.”

Ian scoffed and picked up a charred item from the debris.

It was a completely burnt explosive. A crooked cross was etched on its surface, a shape that seemed all too familiar.

So familiar, in fact, that it was as sensitive as frothing at the mouth whenever it appeared on Earth.

Well, I’m not entirely sure if this is a Hakenkreuz or just a Chinese character.

“….”

As I fell silent, Ian smiled broadly and spoke.

“Why the long face, dear Elliot? Your expression is quite unusual. Are you perhaps angry about this horrific atrocity? Truly, you are a Warrior of God.”

I forced a smile at Ian, who was babbling nonsense while clapping, and turned my body away.

“So, the ones who did this serve the Demon King’s Army. Are you sure?”

“Didn’t you witness it yourself, dear Elliot? The territory of God shattered the cathedral and stole the holy relic. One cannot commit such monstrous acts without worshiping the Demon King.”

Ian sighed as he took out a mark of Maleficarum from his sleeve.

“So, they are the enemies of the Purification Church.”

“Correct. Faith exists because there is a great evil. However, we limit that evil to the possessed.”

“…Well, I suppose there’s no other choice.”

Seeing that, I stood up.

After all, they defend the possessed. There’s no guarantee it’s not just to worship the Demon King.

“I’ll retrieve the holy relic.”

Ian’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Are you serious, comrade? They operate from the shadows of the Ice Palace. It’s a place where the light of God does not reach. Our Church has dispatched many agents to track them down, but we still have not properly identified their whereabouts.”

“It’s fine. I have my ways.”

Though it’s labeled as explosives, there’s no powder in this world that rivals the power of dynamite.

This is ultimately just a magical tool using mana, and by tracking the remnants of its magical power, I can find out where their lair is.

“What method will you use?”

“Do you know what the strongest power in the world is?”

“Faith?”

“No, it’s connections.”

“…Connections, you say?”

And whether it’s fortunate or unfortunate, our party happens to have the most talented mage on this continent.

“Emily Barried. I’ll borrow the power of the next Archmage.”

—

“So, you want me to track the magical power?”

“Is that difficult?”

“Not at all. It’s super easy.”

Getting Emily on board was almost too easy.

After spending half a month concocting poison labeled as a Love Potion in the Ice Palace, it must be a refreshing change for Emily to feel the outside air again.

She readily agreed to my proposal.

However, she seemed to be pondering something.

“…But, Elliot, what about the Saint Lady?”

Suddenly, Emily asked a question, causing me to tilt my head.

“Why Ophelia?”

“Are you not going to tell the Saint Lady and just take me along? What about the others?”

“Right. I’ve already hinted at Cecilia, so I’ll let her know later.”

There’s no need to gather more people.

After all, tracking the flow of remaining magical power at the epicenter is something Emily can manage alone, and if a confrontation arises, I can fight.

Moreover, representing the Purification Church, it was imperative to keep the numbers minimal to avoid unnecessary political implications.

Cecilia agreed to that point as well.

“…Hmm.”

Emily pressed her temples as if puzzled, then raised the corner of her mouth.

“Hehe.”

“Why are you laughing?”

“I just had an amusing thought. Just wait a moment.”

With a beaming smile, Emily brought over a quill and some paper, sitting at a desk.

“What are you doing?”

“You’ll find out if you just wait.”

Eventually, Emily slipped the used paper through Ophelia’s door.

“What did you leave?”

“Just… a greeting?”

In response to my question, Emily only gave me a cryptic answer and a mischievous smile.

—

“The art of shield techniques is to….”

When Ophelia returned to her room after a lesson from the old fogey Azar Albrecht, the sun had already dipped below the horizon.

“…I’m going to die at this rate.”

Since arriving at the Ice Palace, Ophelia had been learning shield techniques from Azar whenever she had free time. She thought that whatever she learned would be a help to Elliot, but…

“Ugh. It hurts so much.”

Ophelia grimaced as she massaged her joints.

Certainly, the intensity was lower compared to the training Elliot had led at the Cathedral, but that doesn’t mean it was easy on her physically.

Despite feeling like her body was being torn apart, Ophelia opened the door and dove onto her bed.

Or rather, she tried to dive.

Thud.

“…Huh?”

Only until a note that had been wedged in the door fell to the ground.

Frowning, Ophelia picked up the note.

Only Elliot would be foolish enough to do something like this.

“Love letter… It can’t be.”

That thick-headed guy couldn’t possibly do something so thoughtful.

Having concluded that in her mind, Ophelia opened the note, and there was a single line neatly written.

It was written, and…

“…”

Slowly, Ophelia’s grip tightened around the note.

Thanks to the techniques learned from Elliot and Azar recently, Ophelia’s strength had far exceeded that of girls her age.

With the note crumpled and torn to shreds, Ophelia turned her head away sharply.

Outside the window, darkness loomed. The absence of streetlights left her unable to see an inch ahead, but Ophelia picked up her coat that had fallen off before and slipped it on.

She was feeling considerable displeasure, to the point where she hardly noticed her muscle pain.

“Heh. That sly Emily. I thought she was a meerkat but turns out she’s a fiery fox?”

The note was a message from Emily Barried.

The only person she could call a “same-gender friend” had suddenly declared war on her.

[Sorry. I’ll take Elliot with me.]

The drawing of a dog smiling at the end made her furious beyond measure.

“That damn girl.”

There’s no denying it.

Right now, Ophelia was feeling ‘scratched.’

And quite effectively at that.

 

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