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“Proving existence is the most challenging task humanity has been given.”

With theism affirming the existence of God and atheism denying it, and with agnosticism claiming that human cognition is incapable of determining whether a deity exists or not, the struggle for proof of existence manifests clearly in theology and philosophy. Nowadays, even the scientific and magical realms are exerting great efforts to prove it.

To be honest, I personally think such proof lacks any real significance.

Though it may sound absurd coming from someone living in a neighborhood brimming with the mysterious power of the divine, what does it matter to me whether or not a god exists?

Even if an omnipotent being is watching over the world, it won’t change the fact that I have to go to work tomorrow morning.

In that sense, I was an atheist.

To be precise, I believed a god might exist, but not one that is omnipotent, as the priests claim.

If someone from the cult hears this, they might be quite offended… but what can you do about the truth?

If an omnipotent divine being existed, just like the celestial deity they speak of in their cult, then when I did those things with Veronica in the confession booth (not suitable for anyone under 19 years of age), I would have been struck down by lightning at least a hundred times already.

Or perhaps when Veronica and Lucia held hands simultaneously (same age restriction applies) back then.

For that reason, I did not believe in the existence of God. I was never a religious person, after all. My family wasn’t particularly deeply rooted in faith either.

But—

No matter how you look at it, this feels—

“‘I’m stronger than you,’ you say? Knight, do you have no shame?”

“Is it not true that I won?”

“After a thorough beating of 4 to 1? Shouldn’t that be a bit embarrassing?”

“Regardless, I won, so it doesn’t matter. What’s important is that I won.”

“…Ah. Yes. Truly impressive.”

Seeing the so-called angel maintain his proud demeanor despite the fact that a number of us had just beaten him up, I thought to myself:

Nietzsche was right.

God is indeed dead for sure.

—

Episode 17 – The Tree That Drinks Blood

—

Not stern enough to be called an angel, yet lacking the sanity to be called a demon, the knight in plate armor, Ramiel, aptly referred to himself as an “angelic claimant.”

“What does angel claimant even mean? Why are you calling yourself that?”

“Does it offend you? Is it blasphemy?”

“No, it’s a well-formed title.”

Veronica surprisingly accepted the term “angelic claimant” positively. To be precise, she seemed to like it.

Her reaction was fitting, considering she had just faced demons sealed away after being betrayed by a knight, and now stood against a first-time angel. Perhaps in her mind, Ramiel was not being classified as a fraud.

Of course, Ramiel was no great hero either.

After all, didn’t he steal items from the supply room without permission?

The Holy See probably just suggested he take a few useful relics. They never would have guessed he’d pilfer cursed weapons or even split demon soul-infused weapons (some principles are unclear, but it seems like a game-like enhancement).

Such conduct was far too disgraceful for a saint. Not just a mere exaggeration; it was truly that way.

As a result, I intended to dub her with the grand title of “Saint Claimant,” but due to her strong opposition (she said something about wanting to be led around with a collar in the heart of Lateran), it never materialized. Unfortunately.

Veronica sighed in relief, her face weary and stained with blood.

“Anyway, I’m glad it worked out. But what are you doing?”

“Tying him up. We don’t know when Nathaniel will wake up.”

The knight in plate armor, otherwise known as the angelic claimant, Ramiel, replied while clinking chains.

He was binding Nathaniel with a long iron chain, which he must have acquired from somewhere. While it wasn’t surprising that he possessed the ability to summon weapons from thin air, it remained an astonishing feat.

What a shocking act it is to bind an angel with chains! This is pure blasphemy!

Even those uninterested in religion might have heard of Cain and Abel from the Earth’s scriptures.

These two, siblings, were high treasoners plotting against the Roman Empire, presenting offerings to Yahweh, who bore Jesus. Unlike Cain, who favored a vegan lifestyle, the violent Yahweh devoured only the well-fed cattle sacrificed by Abel while turning down the carefully cultivated salads of Cain.

Driven by jealousy, Cain, demonstrating psychopathic tendencies, struck down his brother Abel with a rock, marking the first murder inscribed in the scriptures (which only Christians claim to be true).

While the interpretations from the local Holy See and Roman Catholic Church differ, the context regarding the first murder mentioned in their scriptures is roughly similar: fratricide, murder committed among kin.

From a theological perspective, Ramiel’s actions could be deemed sheer sacrilege.

When it was sisterly love, he struck down his kin. Now that he’s binding her with chains, is that not a form of hypocrisy?

“Knight, were you not trying to persuade him until just now?”

I asked Ramiel with a question tinged with skepticism, to which he nodded without hesitation.

“Indeed. I am yet to give up. I will surely persuade her.”

“And now you bind him with chains, twisting them tight.”

“If I could persuade Nathaniel with mere words, that would be wonderful. However, he won’t easily relent. Surely he will attempt to escape. Thus, this measure is necessary.”

No, subduing him is fine, but why chains? Are we going to sell him as a slave?

If Camila had been present, it might have reminded her of her ancestors who bought and sold slaves.

With her red flames, reminiscent of a colonial power, if she had awakened the spirit of her lineage in her veins, she might have even changed her occupation to that of a slave trader. Perhaps she would have turned the Mauritania Continent into ‘Afghanistan.’

(It’s common knowledge from a look at the map of the African continent that Britain, alongside France, was instrumental in much of Africa’s exploitation, and, as a state, supplied African slaves to North America and the West Indies. During conflicts with Imperial Russia, they invaded Afghanistan three times. Of course, mentioning this in front of Camila would provoke her fury—real flames!)

—

“Goodness, this is unbelievable!”

I covered my mouth with my palm, hiding my shocked expression as I blatantly stared at Ramiel.

“To bind your sister in chains! I have never seen such a depraved crime in my life. They say the first murder was a tragic tale of a brother stabbing his sibling in the back. Now, thousands of years later, we see her bound with chains after being knocked out!”

“Were you faithful?”

“Isn’t this common sense?”

Not only those who believe in a religion memorize the scriptures.

Take, for example, the selection process conducted by the Information Command when they send staff to the Middle East—they test both Modern Arabic (Fus’ha) and local dialects (Ammiyah), and inquire about cultural knowledge, including Islamic topics. After traveling to the Middle East and Israel, one inevitably memorizes some content from the Quran or the Old Testament to pass the examinations.

The habits ingrained during my time at the Information Command continued once I entered the Military Intelligence Agency. Although I didn’t have to study for an exam, it made sense to memorize some aspects. Nothing proves to be more effective for a religious person than to be well-versed in religious matters.

I had relayed that it was absurd for an angel to commit sacrilege from the scriptures, but Ramiel continued to hold his ground resolutely.

“I am not committing a sin. I am acting to protect you. If Nathaniel were to revive, you too would be in grave danger!”

“A polished excuse for chaining someone like a slave.”

“Do not worry. We are not hurt by chains of this sort.”

Ramiel responded defiantly as if there was nothing to worry about.

No, the real issue isn’t whether we’re injured or not; it’s the fact that you’ve chained us! No one should be bound in chains. Even if you’re an angelic claimant, it doesn’t matter!

His argument seemed utterly devoid of persuasive power, yet it appeared not to be a mere boast either. After a short time, Nathaniel began to regain consciousness.

“……”

The head, which had been drooping, slowly lifted.

As the chains rattled, the awoken angel started to survey his surroundings.

While the interior of his cloak remained hidden, it was easy to guess where his eyes landed. Like assessing faces, he scanned one by one until he finally settled his gaze on Ramiel.

“…So you all won.”

“Indeed, Nathaniel. I claimed victory.”

He expressed “you all,” but clearly emphasized “I.” What a display!

Veronica shot the knight a glance that conveyed disbelief and irritation. Quite the irreverent gaze.

The angel, who was surveying the surroundings with a look of pride, expressed surprise at whom he encountered next. Feeling somewhat awkward, he scratched his helmet as he opened his mouth to explain.

“…Ah, yes. We won.”

With that, Veronica’s expression brightened. Her triangular eyes morphed into round shapes, and the previously chilly demeanor melted away.

Seeing her grin was so absurd; I couldn’t help but let out a sigh of disbelief.

“So then?”

Meanwhile, Nathaniel spoke, clearly at a loss to decipher the situation.

The knight responded.

“I proved my strength through victory.”

When Veronica’s gaze turned back toward the knight, he quickly corrected his statement.

“I meant we proved our strength.”

“Uh-huh.”

The saint’s satisfied smile continued to linger.

Finally, the angel felt relieved, showcasing a demeanor that truly deserved the title “angelic claimant.”

In any case, now in high spirits, Ramiel asserted his rightful claim. Since he had proven his strength through victory, he expected commands to be followed. Yet Nathaniel displayed no intention of submitting.

“You say I must obey your commands simply because you defeated me? That’s nonsense.”

“The right to command is granted to the one who proves their strength, Nathaniel.”

“That only applied when you were the Burning Blade. No rights are extended to sinners, and you surely know that, Ramiel?”

“……”

“You are a being that has no right to command. And neither do I. That is the law set by our Father, and the law both you and I have violated. Do not forget that, Ramiel.”

The coldness in Nathaniel’s voice rendered Ramiel speechless. The triumphant demeanor he had held earlier vanished completely. He could not muster a single word.

A heavy silence enveloped the air until a blunt voice shattered it.

“Ah—what an annoyance! Yapping noisily.”

With a casual manner, Veronica scratched her head and spoke toward both angelic claimants.

“If you lost, just accept it. Why yak so much?”

“Like a foal, barking nonsense. You possess neither dignity nor grace. It’s annoying to listen to; be quiet.”

“What nonsense! Who do you think you are, calling someone a fallen angel?”

“Utter nonsense! Who says such things?”

“Who else? Our great Father in Heaven, of course.”

As the chains began to clatter loudly, Nathaniel twisted his bound form and glared at Veronica.

“You wretch! Dare to blaspheme the divine?”

“I’m merely stating what’s damn well in the scripture!”

“You humans have altered the story countless times, yet dare to blaspheme! You truly seek death!”

“Enough.”

The stern voice, laced with rage, cut through the blasphemy. Suddenly, the chains that had been twisting began to tighten dangerously.

One sharp command sufficed to calm the thrashing angel. Ramiel, now composed while speaking, directed his gaze towards Veronica.

“No matter what you say, I will disregard it. But I ask you to refrain from calling me a fallen angel.”

“Why is that? I merely spoke the truth.”

“Because what you say is false. It is true we were punished, but we are not fallen. Thus, I would appreciate it if you would refrain from making illogical statements.”

Considering that he bound his sister in chains, this sounded outlandish. I leaned closer to Veronica and began to whisper.

“So what you’re saying is that even though you drank, you didn’t drive drunk?”

You’ve committed a crime, so you must be punished. If you’re a sinner punished outside of heaven, aren’t you fallen?

While I’m not a theologian, those well-versed in theology would know this well enough. A saint of any religion would have to know their theology inside out.

Veronica nodded vigorously, supporting my assertion.

“That isn’t incorrect. Setting aside the fallen angel debate, isn’t it about time you explained everything to us?”

The saint urged the knight to unveil the truth.

“What explanation do you seek?”

“Everything. Who are you, what brings you here, what have you done till now, and what on earth is this tree that drinks blood…?”

“Such curiosity indeed.”

“If you had just been honest from the start, we wouldn’t be asking in the first place. Now, let’s start with this: The reason for hiding the coffin.”

Veronica began to interrogate about the reasons behind concealing the coffin.

More specifically, she asked:

“Why hide the coffin in Mauritania?”

That was what she wanted to know.

She queried, “Wasn’t it Shamir, that man called Akande? I heard he was assigned that role. I’ve also heard that the person you entrusted the essence to went by the name Shamir.”

“That is correct. Shamir is a sort of title. Just as you are known as the owner of Altiora, Akande and his father, as well as his forefathers, have been called Shamir for generations.”

“So the Shamirs protected the coffin you were sleeping in, right?”

“To be precise, it could be said they safeguarded me. It was my request.”

Ramiel revealed Shamir’s identity, showing there was nothing left to hide.

He explained that the man who protected him while he began to sleep was Shamir.

“800 years ago, I met a man named Shamir in this land. I asked him for protection, and he cheerfully agreed. There was no set term for that agreement.”

Ramiel had implored him to guard the coffin until he awoke. Despite having no deadline for their pact, Shamir had readily accepted.

Had he not awakened by the time Ramiel’s strength failed and his life ended, he’d had plans to pass the coffin to his most trusted child.

“I opposed placing the burden on my child, but he was adamant. I made every effort to break his stubbornness but ultimately failed. So I gifted him a power.”

“And that power is the essence mentioned by that angel known as Nathaniel?”

Ramiel quietly nodded, affirming my question. His demeanor conveyed a sense of regret.

“I bestowed the essence to him. The one who guarded the coffin passed it down to his child. And while I slept, it continued through the generations, which is why you and Akande have met today. He is the Shamir of this era.”

“That does sound rather bittersweet, doesn’t it?”

“How could it not be bittersweet? Because of my request, his descendants now carry the burden.”

“Hmm…”

Veronica subtly cast a glance towards Akande. The fellow, lounging around carelessly, was idly enjoying some jerky.

Having assessed Shamir, the saint turned her attention back to the angel. Now that she had heard the circumstances, it was time to inquire about the reasoning.

“First, I understand the relationship between you and Akande. But what I really want to ask is why you entrusted the coffin to this Shamir individual.”

Exactly why did he entrust it to Shamir? At this moment, Veronica was keenly questioning that aspect.

To put it more directly, why did he trust an outsider instead of a faithful servant of the cult enough to give him the coffin?

“Then why him? This is the Mauritania Continent, right? Eight hundred years ago, the prevailing religion here was Al-Yabd. Why hand over the coffin to a pagan devoted to the Earth God rather than someone who follows the Heavenly Deity? You’re unrelated to Al-Yabd; isn’t the deity you serve a celestial one?”

“……”

“In the same vein, why did you deceive us? What’s the reason for hiding your identity as an angel?”

The saint of the cult addressed the servant of the celestial deity, asking why he concealed his identity.

If he had revealed it, they would have readily offered assistance. Why go so far as to lie?

“You had shown us that red ring earlier. That’s a halo, right?”

Veronica explained, hands at her hips, leaning slightly.

“That’s a halo. Humans have never been granted such a thing since creation, but anyone from the cult knows what it symbolizes—the sign of divine grace mentioned frequently in the scriptures.”

“I am aware of it.”

“Honestly, I don’t quite understand. If that was all you had shown, the folks back at the Holy See would have given up their lives to help you. So why hide it?”

This perplexity was something I felt too.

As Ramiel had shown us, if he had displayed the halo before the priests of the cult, everything would have been resolved effortlessly. Proving the existence of God is a fundamental task of any faith!

The existence of an angel equates to proof of a deity’s existence. Proving that alone would have compelled the Holy See to assist, even if it meant selling their souls to a demon.

But he refrained.

Ramiel had maintained his silence amid all the suspicions surrounding him, and even the Grand Priest, who was somewhat aware of the Knight of the Cedar Coffin, remained silent.

That was odd.

“You mentioned you would seek out an angel. If there was such a purpose, shouldn’t you have sought help from the cult? After all, this isn’t merely an affair of outsiders.”

Veronica demanded answers, stating that something felt off, yet the angel steadfastly held his silence, furthering his initial intent of concealing his identity.

Nevertheless, he did delay the answer with an enigmatic response.

“…It is not the right setting to discuss that. It is quite a lengthy tale. It would be better for you to hear it later.”

An ambiguous answer. It sounded like something straight from a character in a poorly translated video game.

Interesting… is that so? Perhaps we’re still oblivious? Then it’s not yet time! I won’t provide you with the answers you seek now. We shall talk later…

That speech pattern makes one’s hair stand on end. Ugh, damn it!

While Veronica glowered at the knight, I decided to shift my focus to the next target: Akande, who had inherited Shamir’s position.

He appeared blissfully engaged, chewing on dried meat. I approached him, ready to confront.

“Hey, muscle pig.”

“…Pig?”

Akande’s eyes widened, half-chewing, suddenly confused if I was referring to him.

“I’m not a pig! Pigs are unclean animals! I’m not filthy.”

“Well, put on some clothes, dude! You’ll be in trouble with the religious police for indecent exposure… Anyway, why were you guarding the coffin?”

“Coffin?”

“The Cedar Coffin. The one your tribe possessed.”

Nathaniel was persistently refusing to listen, but Ramiel was fervently trying to convince him. Pointing toward the knight, I asked about the coffin, and Akande seemed to finally comprehend.

“Protection… important… duty… must keep.”

“I get it. So under whom’s command were you keeping it?”

“Command? No. A request.”

“So, who’s request?”

Suddenly, Akande’s expression soured. What’s up with that? It’s like the moment when you forget a word in a foreign language while speaking.

Seemingly struggling to dig up the right term, Akande squinted deeply in thought, continuing for a while before an unintelligible sound came out.

“Umm… Sr.”

While I couldn’t interpret what he meant, his pronunciation was fairly on point.

“Sr?”

Akande had unmistakably stated “Sr.”

“Who’s ‘Sr.’ then?”

“Sr… person from above… but not human.”

A visitor from above, yet not human? Could that mean an angel?

I pointed to Ramiel, repeating, “Sr? Sr?” but Akande shook his head vigorously. Not an angel? Or is Ramiel a heavenly claimant because he’s pretending?!

“Knight… no, Sr… comes… to the tribe’s land… periodically.”

“Comes to visit, you say? This ‘Sr.’?”

“Not human… concentrate and listen… don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Hey, what the hell….”

If someone comes periodically, then what—

“He’s a beggar, what are you scoffing at, you punk? As if it wasn’t already a pain that Akande can’t even speak the common language, and on top of that, his pronunciation is terrible. I was struggling to interpret it, and now he’s starting a fight.”

“Should I really smack him one? Though I have a feeling I’d get twice the beating for it.”

At that moment, as I was having a hard time decoding the confusing conversation, a soft voice interrupted us.

“It’s a term derived from ancient language.”

It was Veronica.

Leaning against one of the pillars of the tomb, she began to wave her fingers like a conductor as she added her explanation.

“It’s a word that means celestial being. In the Al-Yabd scripture, it’s usually interpreted to refer to angels. It’s considered a dead language now, as there are no native speakers left, so Colonel, you probably haven’t heard of it. Most people wouldn’t know the language unless they were theologians or archaeologists.”

“Oh….”

In that instant, I let out an involuntary exclamation. It was genuine admiration.

Indeed, it was true.

“You’ve been the most intellectual I’ve seen so far.”

At that, Veronica beamed with pride, smirking and shrugging her shoulders. However, a puzzled expression quickly crossed her face, and her head tilted in confusion.

“…Wait a minute. The most intellectual? Are you saying I looked stupid until now?”

Did she just insinuate that I was calling her stupid? Veronica pressed for a clarification.

To that, I answered firmly.

“Yes.”

“Hey, you—”

She picked up a stone from the ground and threw it at me in protest, but I felt incredibly wronged.

Logically speaking, wasn’t her behavior until now far from intellectual? Gambling, drinking, smoking, swearing, espionage, crime, blasphemy, theft….

No matter how much I looked, there was no way to give a positive review of those actions. Veronica had never been a person of intellect or dignity. So here I was, giving her a rare compliment, and she was causing a fuss like a thief caught in the act.

Veronica, all riled up, squinted at me with her triangular eyes.

She could endure cursing God, but not cursing herself. Isn’t that usually backwards?

“Why is this intellectual? All the scriptures are written in ancient language, so someone studying theology wouldn’t be able to avoid knowing it! No, beyond that, what the heck do you mean I’m stupid!”

“Stupid? Honestly, if you had shown even half of what you’re showing now, you wouldn’t have received all that criticism from the Holy See. Why get mad at me for your own mistakes?”

“Blasphemous wretch!”

Thud! Veronica slammed her fist on the top of my head.

The shock was so intense that I nearly had my eyeballs pop out. Akande, chewing on beef jerky, burst into laughter at the sight.

“Heh heh. Ignorance. No shame. Dignity. Mustn’t lose.”

“You should focus on wearing proper clothes instead of saying that—ack!”

“Did you get hit?”

“Ugh, yes….”

“Then take another hit.”

A saint hitting someone, and a diplomat getting beaten by that saint. A semi-nude muscular pig scratching his belly while gnawing on beef jerky. It was truly a ridiculous combination.

As Veronica was calling me a blasphemer and beating me, the gaze of two angels began to pour onto her. Nathaniel, who had been silently watching Veronica, turned to Ramiel and asked.

“Are those truly the humans you chose?”

“Indeed.”

“…Those pathetic beings?”

“…….”

The knight silently averted his gaze.

*

There was an unfortunate incident where a cleric from the Holy See, who preached love and peace, resorted to violence against an innocent human, but the matter was amicably resolved through mutual agreement between the parties.

“Ugh… my head hurts.”

“Hmph.”

While I was checking if my skull had cracked, Veronica was snorting with dissatisfaction.

“Why are you still sulking? I apologized.”

“Is that all it takes? Forgiveness is important! Repentance comes from heartfelt remorse and the victim’s forgiveness, don’t you forget that, Colonel?”

“But… you’ve never apologized either, have you? Have you ever said sorry to the cardinal or the bishop for the trouble you caused them?”

“Apologize? Me? There’s no reason for that!”

What kind of fresh nonsense is this?

“Why not?”

“Because I’m a saint!”

“…….”

That was a statement that raised serious concerns about the Holy See’s personnel verification process.

Anyway.

Veronica, Akande, and I gathered together and exchanged a casual conversation. The lantern provided a romantic glow.

I didn’t know, but I heard this lantern was brought from the Holy See’s treasury. It supposedly belonged to a bishop from some village 400 years ago who carried it while passing through a forest ruled by evil spirits to summon an exorcist.

“The ‘Sar’ that Akande met is a term derived from ancient Halenian.”

Veronica, filling the oil in the cult’s sacred artifact, the lantern “Spectrum,” opened her mouth.

“As I mentioned before, most religious scriptures are written in ancient languages. The writing period was at least thousands of years ago. The scriptures we have today are all modern translations of the ancient texts.”

So, the clergy and theologians had to teach themselves the ancient language. Just like a monk studying heresy must know Sanskrit, a priest reading the Bible must learn Latin, and Muslims reading the Quran must learn classical Arabic.

“In the Al-Yabd scripture, ‘Sar’ can be interpreted in two main ways. The first means celestial being. This interpretation is usually taken by angels as mentioned in the cult.”

“And the second?”

“A priest serving the Earth God. Among them, high-ranking priests are often called ‘Sar’. So, it encompasses both angels and high-ranking priests.”

Hmm. Angels and high-ranking priests, huh.

We kept two possibilities open regarding the being known as ‘Sar’ that Akande had encountered. One was that he met a priest of Al-Yabd, and the other was that he was an angel of Al-Yabd.

“Out of the two hypotheses, the more likely one is the former. It’s hypothesized that a priest of Al-Yabd visited the tribe periodically.”

“However, the latter isn’t entirely far-fetched.”

Veronica replied while drinking some water. Indeed, there was some merit to that idea.

After all, we had examples like Ramiel and Nathaniel. If the angel of the cult existed, then logically, an angel of Al-Yabd could exist too.

With my arms crossed, I spoke up while gazing at the lantern.

“That’s true, but realistically speaking, the hypothesis about the priest carries more weight. The idea that there are multiple angels is….”

Is that even conceivable? I kept that thought to myself.

Veronica stared right at me. Then she cautiously asked, sounding a bit incredulous.

“In that case, you do realize that those angels right there don’t make sense either, Colonel?”

“…….”

“When judged by the standards of science or magic, determining the existence of angels is not an easy thing. It may be easier than proving God’s existence, but it still isn’t simple. It’s funny that I, a saint, am saying this, but…”

“Still, isn’t it more realistic to say that there was a high-ranking priest who visited Akande’s tribe than to suggest there’s a third angel we know nothing about?”

“That’s true.”

We decided to interrogate Akande to find out who that being ‘Sar’ was that he claimed to meet. However, it seemed Akande was clueless about ‘Sar’s’ identity.

“Sar? Identity. I don’t know. Probably a woman, I think.”

“Her gender is female. Okay, alright, is there anything else? Just say anything you remember.”

“Song. Very wonderful. Music. Good.”

According to his claim, the being ‘Sar’ was presumed to be a ‘woman with excellent musical talent’. However, whether she was human or an entity like Nathaniel still remained unclear.

Naturally, nationality or ethnicity was equally a mystery. Akande had always been dressed head to toe in traditional Mauritanian attire, so he couldn’t say where ‘Sar’ came from. However, since the attire was of a kind that only women could wear, it was easy to deduce her gender.

“Dressed in traditional Mauritanian attire from head to toe… then the possibility of her being a foreigner is low. Foreigners usually don’t dress like that.”

“So, you mean you think there’s a high probability she is a local, given the premise that she’s human?”

“Exactly.”

“Got it. So, based on the definite information we’ve gathered….”

The information we acquired through Akande was as follows:

1. Female, presumed to be a local.

2. Possesses exceptional singing and musical talents.

3. Visits the tribe approximately every three years. Accompanied by no one.

4. Wears traditional clothing that covers her entire body.

If she’s indeed human, then this ‘Sar’ must be quite a unique individual. The kind of attire that covers the whole body is typically worn by married women, yet she was making long-distance outings without any husband. If caught by the religious police, she could very well be harshly punished.

I muttered in a calm tone.

“That’s quite daring. Even a priest wouldn’t easily do that.”

“Even high-ranking priests?”

“Well, that’s the thing… High-ranking priests are still bound by the law. It surely would raise eyebrows….”

While Mauritania’s nations were more proactive about women’s social involvement compared to Arab states due to population issues, it still wasn’t easy for women to roam about freely here.

Setting aside the religious issues, Mauritania was a place where one could end up getting mauled by a monster or killed by bullets from rebels or government troops.

Being able to move around freely in the city was only achievable in countries managing order through a strong central government and military like Abas, Kien, or Patalia. In places where rebels occasionally bombard the capital with mortars, travel could often be impossible.

Severe corruption stemming from delayed salaries also involved the Border Guards, who weren’t receiving support and couldn’t adequately fend off the monsters. That’s why Camila and her crew were dealing with the monsters instead of the government army.

“Hmm….”

Veronica let out a subtle hum, looking contemplative.

“Regardless of whether Sara is human or an angel, it’s evident that Ramiel and Akande are linked to Al-Yabd. After all, both hypotheses are linked to Al-Yabd in some way.”

“Yeah. Unfortunately.”

“Well, it’s not surprising for someone to say something that discriminatory against a religion…. or maybe it’s understandable when you think about it.”

The saint sighed deeply, covering her forehead.

“Perhaps what the Inquisition stated might be correct. The hypothesis that Al-Yabd is connected to the cult that stole Lucia’s blood.”

Indeed.

During the investigation of how the saint’s blood was stolen, the Inquisition raised the possibility that Al-Yabd might be linked to Al-Kair. Specifically, it was an allegation.

At the time, there was a lack of evidence to support the hypothesis, so both the upper management of the Inquisition and the Holy See viewed it with skepticism. However, if Akande met Sar, then the scenario changed. It meant someone related to Al-Yabd had been periodically contacting the tribe that possessed the Cedar Coffin.

If the cult organization Al-Kair received help from Sar while stealing the Cedar Coffin, this wouldn’t just be a religious dispute. With the slightest misstep, the Holy See could very well draw their swords.

In other words, it could be seen as a crusade.

In an era where holy wars were dismissed as jokes, crusades were a topic only discussed among those knowledgeable in history, but the issue here was that the current pope was a former Inquisition Director.

“Do you think Raphael would mobilize a crusade if things went awry?”

In response to the diplomat’s question, the saint of the cult replied with a teasing tone.

“He’s more than capable of it. That old man.”

“It’s downright maddening.”

We agreed to remain silent about this matter until we had solid information. After all, it’s possible that this Sar had nothing to do with Al-Yabd and could very well be a third party.

Even while we were having a serious discussion, Akande was mindlessly chowing down on food. The sight of him happily devouring beef jerky and a thick bread was reminiscent of a pig. His denial of being a pig mirrored someone from England I couldn’t quite place.

“By the way, where are our angelic advocates?”

“Predictably, they’re over there trying to persuade him.”

When I turned my gaze to the direction Veronica pointed at, I spotted the familiar backwards posture in armor.

Ramiel was still doing his utmost to convince Nathaniel. He was imploring for Nathaniel to come along to slay demons. Of course, Nathaniel’s response was unchanging.

“I refuse.”

“Nathaniel.”

“Is there any reason for me to follow your orders? Quit your senseless persuasion.”

“Don’t be stubborn, sister. No matter how much you refuse, I shall not give up.”

“Your stubbornness remains the same even after thousands of years have passed. Do as you wish. My answer shall not change.”

To think those were angels? It truly made my heart sink.

What in the world is God? An African-American prisoner handing over power to a man being watched his whole life? Both were masterpieces that still lingered in my mind, yet I couldn’t recall the actors’ names. They were genuinely good movies.

As I watched the bickering angel advocates, our gazes met, and I let out a deep sigh without anyone saying a word.

“Are they really angels…?”

“I think they probably are angels… but honestly, I don’t want to believe it.”

“How can you say such a thing? You’re a cleric!”

“Let’s not just call them angels, let’s call them angelic advocates like the Colonel suggested, shall we?”

“So they are angels. We consider them divine beings, but saying that feels like pure blasphemy.”

“Eh, what’s the big deal? I can always make a confession right before I die.”

Is that what confessions are for?

I yearned to leave this place as soon as possible, but I knew I needed Ramiel’s help to do so. After hastily tidying up, we walked towards the not-so-reliable angel advocates.

“Shall we stop this and leave? It doesn’t seem like we’re reaching a resolution today.”

“…Hmm.”

As I poked the shoulder armor, a groan escaped.

The nuance of the voice seemed to resonate straight to my brain, ignoring my eardrum. No matter how many times I heard it, I couldn’t get used to that sound.

Ramiel, letting out a sigh that conveyed his frustration, placed his hands on his hips. Then, he straightened his upper body and took a deep breath.

“Huh. I understand. As you say, it seems persuasion will not bear fruit.”

“Right. Wise decision.”

“But what now?”

Veronica pointed at Nathaniel and questioned. For the moment, he was bound in chains, so he couldn’t do anything, but if freed, he would immediately bolt.

It felt strange to free him just like that. Yet, it also felt odd to leave him behind. What should we do about these angel advocates?

I briefly discussed the matter with Veronica. Although no clear solution emerged, the idea of taking him along seemed the most favored. However, our hopes were betrayed.

“Oh, were you worried about that? There’s no need to take him. Just leave him here.”

“Eh? Leave him behind?”

“Correct.”

No.

Why would you even suggest something like that…?

“We are beings who do not need food or sleep. Although we are bound by chains, there are no demons in this place. There’s nothing here that could threaten Nathaniel even if you left him.”

Ramiel casually stated that we could leave Nathaniel behind. It contradicted his earlier words about being siblings, tossing out an incredibly outrageous comment.

I was so baffled that even Veronica, known for her bad personality, and Akande, completely lacking in discretion, were left speechless. Even Veronica’s eyelids were trembling.

Despite the piercing stares, Ramiel confidently planted his hands on his hips and opened his chest proudly. It seemed he was either senile or completely lost his mind.

I was stuck in a dilemma about whether to kick him in the chest or slap him across the face.

“…….”

The chained angel cast a puzzled glance towards us. His head tilted slightly, reminiscent of a sibling looking at a sibling they had no desire to engage with.

If that angel had a mouth, I wager they would be saying, “Get that punk away from me, please.” Even if they didn’t have a mouth, they likely still could’ve made that sentiment known. Nathaniel seemed utterly astounded, rendered speechless at this incredulous behavior.

Veronica seemed intent on dragging the angel advocate away to a quieter spot for some words. However, the unabashed advocate of angels didn’t respond to the saint’s call.

Instead, in a tone that suggested he understood everything, he babbled on.

“There’s no need to worry. Really, it’s nothing. Nathaniel will be safe. Wouldn’t you agree, sister?”

“…I have never felt so ashamed of you in my life. Don’t go around telling others I’m your sibling.”

“Hah! Don’t take it to heart. Just ignore it; I say it all the time.”

In response to Nathaniel’s chilling rejection, Ramiel quipped dismissively, as if stating that this is just par for the course. It seemed that this angel really was that much of a fool.

“Honestly, when I see you, I find myself wanting to hit you.”

The bantering and caustic atmosphere between the angels felt bizarre; it was as if the divine was playing tricks.

Just then, the sound of something collapsing echoed from one side of the chamber with a loud rumble. The pillar—the very one the knight was leaning on—had fallen.

Whether it was due to the aftermath of the battle or the passage of time causing fatigue, the pillar toppled over with a sound like dominoes falling without anyone having touched it. Crash, thud, boom! It was quite a racket.

“Cough, cough…!”

“Ah, damn…!”

Thanks to that commotion, we got a mouthful of dust and sand.

Amidst the choking and coughing, affectionate praises and exclamations erupted. There it goes, I knew it. Who needs an angel when this is what happens? Are they trying to get someone killed? Did someone forget to wake up? Are they senile or what? Blah blah, what a calamity.

As the pillar collapsed, the knight, in a fit of panic, tried to prop up the falling debris. However, it didn’t stop the collapse; instead, he ended up embracing useless rocks, getting dust all over himself.

“Ugh, ugh….”

With a somewhat embarrassed voice, the knight hesitantly spoke up.

“My apologies. That was unintended.”

He sounded sincere as he offered his apology, but frankly speaking, the reaction wasn’t too favorable.

Veronica shot him a death glare while Akande was coughing and rubbing his neck. Nathaniel, still chained, was breathing heavily in despair.

“…What are you doing?”

“Ugh. There should be some leftover explosives around here….”

And here I was, searching for explosives. It was quite the scene.

Despite Ramiel’s heartfelt apology, the atmosphere was as uneasy as can be. He couldn’t hide his surprise as the gaze upon him became increasingly hostile.

“Even so, nothing was harmed, how fortunate. Besides, it was merely one pillar that fell.”

Surely, there’s no way this place would collapse entirely, right? Just as I thought that, a foreboding sound began echoing from above, and something started to fall from the ceiling. Dust and stones.

The ground felt like it was trembling, and the pillars seemed to sway side to side, with debris rolling around at our feet amidst the grim foreboding.

Oh, for crying out loud.

Damn angel advocates…!

“…Everyone, run!”

I shouted, and everyone quickly turned and started running back.

It was a retreat!

 

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