Every god has apostles.
Each apostle possesses a unique authority, a power with properties that cannot be defined by either magic or science.
Nirva ruled over the world of dreams, while Basara wielded a power that shook the human mind and provoked all manner of trauma.
Helia, on the other hand, could create tangible illusions and even manifest the breath of a dragon.
It was enough to show just how extraordinary the apostles’ powers were.
Naturally—
Lumenis also had apostles.
However, the apostles of Lumenis were somewhat different from the rest.
Apostles were, by nature, transcendent beings—no longer human.
Yet among them, the apostles of Lumenis were the only ones who were human.
Human apostles.
Perhaps because of that, Lumenis had not one but two apostles, unlike the other gods.
Unlike others, the apostles of Lumenis aged and weakened over time.
Whenever that happened, the apostle would pass on their power to a successor.
The power was inherited, handed down like a lineage.
And with each succession, the apostle’s power grew stronger.
But disputes over who should inherit that authority were endless.
At times, battles were fought for the right to claim that power—
for the moment one acquired the apostle’s authority, they would rise above all rivals to the highest seat.
Unable to let such chaos continue, the Church made a choice.
They would enthrone the apostle as king and ensure that his bloodline inherited the apostolic power.
The second apostle would serve as his advisor.
The current bearer of that apostolic authority—
was the Holy Sovereign Salesin von Bretus.
And the authority he possessed as an apostle was—
“Brainwashing.”
“Five hundred years ago,” Salesin began suddenly, “the kingdom that would later become the foundation of the Empire dared to defy the Holy Nation and conducted forbidden experiments.”
Ivelon listened to him silently.
“They foolishly joined hands with the heretical elves, secretly cultivated a World Tree, and even delved into relic research. Reckless and dangerous. But, as justice always prevails, they all perished by the very demons they summoned.”
What followed was obvious.
The Theocracy of Bretus immediately dispatched its holy knights and priests.
Even a nation as mighty as Bretus would normally face backlash for unilaterally overthrowing a royal house.
But thanks to the apostolic authority, they could do so.
Brainwashing.
Though it held little power over individuals, its influence on groups was immense.
When a nation’s ruler was replaced and its people didn’t even realize it—
that was the measure of this deranged authority.
An ability to tamper with the memories of an entire country and impose obedience.
For an apostle who led a religion, there was no power more perfectly suited.
That was why Bretus had been able to rule the continent unopposed for centuries.
Was there truly no nation that had ever resisted?
There were.
And every one of them vanished by Bretus’s hand.
A power that could rewrite history itself as they pleased.
Even now, that same power continued to act without filter.
“After that incident five hundred years ago, the Empire was born,” Salesin continued. “And for generations, it has preserved records swearing never to defy the Holy Nation again. Yet as time passes, even the strongest fortress rusts. The Empire of today walks a different path from us.”
“I am deeply sorry. It is all because of my foolish sister,” Ivelon said.
“At first, I considered making an example of her,” Salesin smiled faintly, “but Second Prince Ivelon, after seeing you, I decided otherwise. Thanks to you, the Empire will endure. You may take pride in that.”
Ivelon bowed his head lower in gratitude.
With the authority bestowed by Salesin, becoming the next Emperor would be an effortless task.
Watching him with satisfaction, Salesin nodded.
“Still, it seems other nations have committed far too many blasphemies while we were away.”
“Do you intend to erase them?”
“Haha. I’m not that cruel. Erasing them would be too much trouble for us as well.”
Salesin paused, then smiled faintly.
“But perhaps we can instill a little more reverence toward us.”
The brainwashing authority Salesin wielded was not limited to inheritance alone.
Just as Ivelon had subdued Aileen and Passius,
he could, for a brief moment, grant that same power to others.
And the priests who had received that authority were, at that very moment, meeting the rulers of every nation across the continent.
“We are beginning anew,” Salesin said softly. “Our own paradise.”
* * *
Ludger had spent several days confined within a lightless cell.
‘We’re moving.’
It wasn’t an ordinary prison—it was a special mobile cell built by the Theocracy of Bretus for transporting criminals.
The faint but constant tremor told him he wasn’t imagining it; the prison truly was in motion.
At last, the door opened, and light flooded in.
“Criminal Heathcliff. Step out.”
Ludger glanced briefly at the grim-faced holy knight, then stepped forward with calm, measured steps.
The knight frowned deeply.
‘This bastard.’
Ludger’s demeanor was too natural—unnervingly so.
No prisoner should be able to look that composed.
If he were merely pretending to be fine, that would have been easier to understand.
He had seen many men force composure through fear before.
But this man—he didn’t seem to be acting.
He truly looked at peace.
“You heretic scum! Do you even realize where you are to hold your head so high?!”
“Even so, this place is practically my homeland. Isn’t my reaction only natural?”
A vein bulged on the knight’s forehead.
“You—how dare you! You have the nerve to speak such blasphemy?! Do you even comprehend how many of my brothers and sisters you slaughtered?!”
“Well,” Ludger said indifferently, “I didn’t count. But at least a few thousand, I imagine.”
His tone was almost lazy—too detached for someone accused of mass murder.
“You...!”
Clang!
The knight drew his sword, fury shaking his arm.
But before he could swing, Ludger met his eyes and said quietly,
“If you’re going to strike, do it in a single blow.”
“......”
“Of course, you won’t.”
The holy knight’s lips trembled, yet in the end he could not swing.
Every nerve screamed to strike him down, but he could not.
The criminal Heathcliff could not die yet.
He had to be condemned as a heretic and executed before the entire nation.
“You must have lost someone close to me,” Ludger said evenly. “My condolences.”
“...Do you feel no guilt at all?”
“Guilt?” He tilted his head. “If I were given the chance to choose again, I would make the same decision. Is that enough of an answer for you?”
“......”
The knight, struck speechless, finally sheathed his sword.
“I’ll see whether you can keep that arrogant face when you stand at the gallows.”
“I look forward to it.”
“What are you waiting for?! Take him away!”
As they dragged him forward, Ludger’s eyes adjusted to the light, taking in his surroundings.
Beyond the white-marble corridor, far in the distance, he saw a towering white fortress.
‘So, I’ve finally arrived.’
At the very heart of the Holy Nation’s capital stood the gleaming fortress Galaharad.
Though it looked like marble, it was built from a special mineral with high divine-conductivity—Holy Stone—which emitted a faint, sacred glow.
Tapering spires rose skyward, and from above, the outer and inner walls formed the shape of a hexagram.
Around Galaharad, aqueducts spread outward like the strands of a spider’s web.
It was a beautiful, awe-inspiring structure — like a sacred fortress from myth.
‘If Galaharad is visible from here... then this must be the First Checkpoint City.’
The Holy Nation of Bretus was an island country.
What made this island unique was its jagged shape — bays carved deep into its coasts created an endlessly intricate shoreline.
Because of that, waterways crisscrossed the island like a vast web of threads.
At the center of that watery labyrinth stood the fortress of Galaharad.
Roads and bridges weren’t the only ways to reach it; canals led there as well. The capital, including the fortress, was often called the City of Water.
And the place where Ludger now stood was the First Checkpoint City, overlooking both the capital and the fortress.
According to legend, before a believer could reach the land of Lumenis, they had to pass three sacred steps — this city was built in honor of that myth.
“You’ll be staying here.”
The view vanished, replaced by cold, stone walls — a frigid prison greeted him.
True to its name, the First Checkpoint City was a place meant to repel intruders and imprison the suspicious.
Because of that, its facilities for confinement were far more advanced than even those of the fortress of Galaharad.
‘So, they won’t take me all the way to the fortress. They plan to finish it here.’
Ludger sat down heavily.
Under the watchful eyes of the guards, he remained still, letting time slip by.
But he hadn’t given up.
His mind was turning faster than ever.
‘There’s nothing left for me to be bound by.’
He paused, then shook his head.
‘No. That’s only my wishful thinking.’
There are things that cannot be shaken off simply by deciding to.
The harder one tries to cast them aside, the more tightly they cling.
Ludger quietly closed his eyes.
The guards watching him from beyond the bars sneered, assuming he had surrendered.
“Hmph. So much «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» for the great heretic. Once he’s caught, he just sits there.”
“To think such a man shares the blood of the Holy Sovereign... how disgraceful.”
Ludger ignored the deliberate mockery as though it were nothing.
Time passed, and night fell.
Though the prison was dark, pale moonlight filtered through, seeping into the room.
Bathed in that cold, bluish glow, Ludger slowly opened his eyes.
A crow perched upon the high barred window, staring in at him.
Feeling that gaze, Ludger couldn’t help but let out a faint, amused breath.
“Fufu.”
“What was that?”
“Did he just... laugh?”
The guards glared through the bars, eyes narrowing.
They knew the prison was protected by sacred wards—escape was impossible. Yet his laughter still unsettled them.
“Maybe he’s finally lost his mind, knowing he’ll die soon.”
“This is why we shouldn’t stay near heretics like him.”
Ignoring their chatter, Ludger whispered softly toward the crow.
“I thought having just one or two left alive would be enough... but it seems more than enough did survive.”
The instant his whisper ended—
KRAAAASH!
One wall of the prison exploded in a deafening roar, swallowing the guards in a wave of destruction.
Choking on dust, the guards coughed violently.
“Cough! Cough! What the hell—what’s happening?!”
“An attack? Inside the Holy Nation?!”
Even amid the collapse, their sacred-law coats shielded them, leaving them unharmed.
As they tried to react to the sudden assault, a black shadow burst through the smoke and struck them down in an instant.
Crunch!
A bare fist shattered the holy protection woven into their white coats, sinking deep into their chests.
Out of the haze stepped a massive figure.
Ludger smiled when he saw him.
Pantos.
Outside the prison, explosions and screams echoed one after another.
The chaos didn’t last long.
Silence soon returned—and within it, figures began to emerge one by one.
“You reckless fools.”
Ludger glanced at each face of those who had come for him.
“You’re all prepared to become enemies of the world, I trust?”
They were the executives of the secret organization he had created.
[U.N. Owen]
Every officer bearing a codename personally given by Ludger was gathered here.
Beyond the shattered wall stretched the night sky, and beneath that backdrop, the members of Owen stood in formation.
“If it weren’t for you, boss, none of us would’ve made it this far,” Hans said, pulling back his hood as it fluttered in the night wind.
“And after all that, you tell us to run and leave you behind? If any of us had a shred of decency, we couldn’t possibly do that.”
“You sure have some nerve saying that,” Violetta shot back dryly. “Weren’t you the one trembling like a coward?”
“Yeah!” Sheridan joined in. “Didn’t you say you’d retire rich and live easy with all the money you stashed away?”
“I—when did I ever say that?!”
“I think I heard it too,” Alex interjected with a grin. “But who cares? What matters is that we’re all here again.”
Pantos crossed his arms with a low hum of agreement, and Bellaruna chuckled, nodding along.
“Let’s go together, Teacher,” Arfa said last, smiling brightly at Ludger.
“...I see.”
Ludger’s shoulders shook with quiet laughter he couldn’t hold back.
“Truly, you’re the fools I gathered myself.”
He spoke with a lightened face, almost refreshed.
“And the fool who leads such fools—would be me.”
Everyone in Owen grinned.
“Right,” Ludger said. “We’ve come this far. We might as well see it through.”
“Not as far as we can go,” Alex corrected, shaking his head.
“To the very end.”