A dim light permeates the wide space.
Colleo bowed his head with his hands together, praying.
He didn't know how long he had been praying. With his head bowed, he read the letters written in the book beneath him countless times.
He was not alone. Throughout this space, children of similar ages to himself, as well as younger and older children, were gathered.
Everyone had their hands together, quietly reciting the contents of their books.
Even though it was clearly a prayer to praise God, Colleo found it eerily frightening.
Whenever that happened, the golden light subtly moving around him did not feel beautiful at all.
The golden light Martinez had shown was more beautiful than anything in the world, yet this same power felt terrifying.
He even reduced his meal and sleeping times to continuously sing hymns and recite prayers.
If he didn't, a sharp cane would fly. Children who cried and said they couldn't endure it were dragged somewhere and never returned.Because he had seen this, Colleo gritted his teeth and continued this meaningless repetitive task.
It was strange. While praying to God with priests, he felt a fear of not knowing when he might die.
He didn't need the splendid and elegant atmosphere of the cathedral. What was precious to him was the rundown orphanage and small church that seemed about to collapse.
If this is truly a prayer sent to God?
'O God. Heavenly Father. Please, hear my prayer.'
I want to see Sister Dorthea. I want to live with my siblings like before. I want to see my mother. And I want to meet Brother Martinez.
Colleo pleaded earnestly, pouring in his true feelings.
Please, let me escape from this terrible hell.
At that moment, the door creaked open.
Inside was not dark due to the subtle golden light, but an even brighter light poured in from outside. The children stopped praying.
"Who are you!"
The priest managing the children approached the intruder with an irritated voice.
At that moment, the intruder grabbed the priest's neck and slammed him directly to the ground.
Frothing and unconscious, the priest was left behind as he walked with unsteady footsteps to the center of the choir.
All the children watched the scene, holding their breath.
The boy, who looked to be around Colleo's age, was wearing a dirty robe covered in ash.
Looking around as if searching for someone, he turned his head in Colleo's direction.
"Oh?"
Colleo unknowingly opened his mouth and made a sound.
"There you are. Colleo."
Seeing the person who approached and extended his hand, Colleo asked with a trembling voice:
"Are you really, brother?"
"Yes."
"Ar-are you real? Is this not a dream?"
"No. This is not a dream."
Martinez smiled at Colleo, telling him not to worry.
"I'm here to save you."
Martinez's smile, which Colleo had never seen before, was somewhat stiff and awkward, but precisely because of that, Colleo felt enormous relief.
The child who had tried to be strong and mature finally couldn't hold back and burst into tears.
While Martinez was rescuing the children, Osian was facing Hermut.
Osian had never seen Hermut before, but based on the brief reaction Martinez showed, he seemed to be a quite famous paladin.
'Perhaps he's one of the 13 Judges. He seems to know Martinez well too.'
Was it because he was one of the 13 Judges?
Hermut Bummer was a person without any visible gaps.
He was like a perfectly grown tree without any cracks or flaws.
He was smiling in a friendly manner, but Osian couldn't predict whether he could be subdued in one strike if he were to draw his sword.
"I am Hermut Bummer. Would you tell me what I should call you?"
As if introducing himself, Osian naturally responded.
"Call me Wandering Knight."
"Haha. How interesting. Wandering Knight."
Though such an attitude might have seemed presumptuous, Hermut burst into laughter. In fact, he rather liked Osian's confident demeanor. Until now, no one had approached him so naturally.
"Alright, Wandering Knight. It seems you've helped our young one. I'll convey our gratitude in his stead."
"I simply did what needed to be done."
"Is that so? I noticed our young one has become quite mature in my absence. Was that perhaps thanks to you?"
Young one.
No matter how young Martinez was, there probably wasn't anyone who could call him that, especially as a purification judge.
However, Hermut Bummer was capable of doing so. Moreover, it seemed he spoke like this habitually.
'He's a paladin, but his demeanor is quite soft.'
But he couldn't let his guard down.
He had ruthlessly arrested people from the same order. It was natural that violent force was used in the process.
At that moment, a subordinate approached and whispered something to Hermut.
Osian observed the subordinate's attire.
Both Hermut and his subordinate were wearing pure white robes.
'They're different from other paladins.'
Most paladins now wore pure white trench coats. These were not just clothing but defensive gear enhanced by holy magic.
However, Hermut and his unit were wearing somewhat outdated clothing. Just comfortable adventurer clothing covered with a pure white robe.
"Hmm? Oh, my. I nearly forgot something important."
Hermut immediately walked towards a certain direction.
There was Jechiel, the archbishop, breathing heavily with only his upper body remaining.
"He, Hermut Bummer. How are you here..."
Jechiel looked at Hermut, who had nullified his holy magic barrier, with a despairing look.
His expression suggested he couldn't understand how Hermut could be here at all.
"Could the purification judge have already sent word...?"
"Word? That's impossible."
Hermut denied that statement. He said they were not summoned by Martinez.
"From the beginning, the Holy Lord was suspicious of you. He had been steadily gathering information."
Osian was slightly surprised while listening nearby.
It was surprising that they knew this, and even more so that they were casually sharing this important information with an outsider like himself.
"We were planning to officially begin an investigation soon, but an incident suddenly broke out, so we had to move earlier than planned."
Hermut's gaze turned to Osian.
Of course, it wasn't meant as a reprimand. Rather, it contained gratitude that things worked out well.
"In fact, we're grateful. If we had moved according to plan, we might have been in danger ourselves. Who would have thought you'd use children as a choir? Now I understand why there were suddenly many brothers with enhanced holy power in the 29th district diocese."
"Krh. All this because of just two guys?"
Jechiel laughed as if in disbelief. His face was rapidly withering like someone dying.
Jechiel was feeling it - the holy power of the choir that had been his strong support was quickly diminishing.
This meant Martinez was rescuing the children.
No matter how he thought about it, it was frustrating. Why did he have to die so miserably?
He would have preferred dying immediately when Martinez's sword had cut him. Instead, he had desperately tried to survive, missing his chance to die and showing an even more pathetic sight.
"It's not just two."
At that moment, Osian corrected Jechiel’s statement.
"The children you've left to die. You're dying because of those children."
"Damn it."
Jechiel couldn't offer any rebuttal. His consciousness was gradually fading.
"Dirty main faction bastards."
In his very last moment, he glared at Hermut and spat out a curse.
"While you guys monopolize all honor and glory in the home country, we've been fighting desperately in abandoned lands. And you want to label us heretics and eliminate us?"
"Oh, Archbishop Jechiel. You seem very tired."
"Spare me your mockery. Yes, you've always been like this. Pretending to be fine while looking down on us with your eyes. Just tell me this - will this end with just me? The other brothers and sisters suffering, being chased around under the pretext of missionary work, won't stay quiet."
Jechiel’s words were not logical.
If he had truly been motivated by the pain of persecution, he should not have committed such acts against Sister Dorthea or others.
In the end, this was just an old man with ugly desires spewing shameful words.
Though the words were not worth responding to, Hermut nodded, saying, "I see. That's why our reflection squadron must work harder."
Seeing Hermut speak righteously to the end, Jechiel trembled.
But with his life force depleted, he couldn't even move his mouth.
Ah. My body is getting cold. My strength is draining.
My power. My holy power. Why? Why aren't you giving me more power?
God. I truly hate you.
The light disappeared from Jechiel’s wide-open eyes. After confirming his consciousness had sunk into endless emptiness, Hermut shook his head.
"Truly a sad affair. Someone who should be most devout, being swayed by his own desires. That's why I'm truly grateful to you."
"How unexpected. I thought you'd try to silence this exposure."
At those words, Hermut's eyes widened.
He had just boldly spoken these words right in front of the reflection squadron and Hermut himself.
Would they try to silence him if he spoke like this? Hermut looked at Osian. Though he was wearing full armor and a helmet that obscured his face, he could sense something from his voice.
'What a strong young man. And his eyes are alive.'
If they tried to silence him, he seemed entirely ready to fight. It suggested confidence in his abilities.
In fact, before he had interfered with the holy magic barrier, Osian had single-handedly defeated three Paladin suits.
Just as Osian had assessed Hermut as formidable, Hermut was thinking similarly about Osian.
"Haha. That's an interesting thing to say. We are not such a scary group."
Hermut paused in thought, then corrected his statement.
"...Well, to be honest, we are a scary group."
Stroking his bearded chin, Hermut chuckled.
"Of course, that only applies to internal matters of our order. You're an outsider, aren't you? Our reflection squadron doesn't pick fights with outsiders. We just do exactly what we're supposed to do."
Furthermore, Hermut continued:
"I've never seen Martinez fight alongside anyone. But he showed quite deep trust in you. So, I thought, since he trusts this person, this person must be trustworthy."
Ossian chuckled inside his helmet.
It was a statement that seemed stubborn yet felt flexible.
"Martinez, I don't understand what you mean. I simply fought alongside an ash-covered boy."
"Oh, my. I made a mistake. I mistook him for someone I know."
Hermut was indeed quick-witted. He deliberately acted and played along with Osian's banter.
"More guests seem to be coming."
Hermut stared down one of the passages, as if sensing someone's presence.
Osian also looked in that direction because he sensed it too.
There were guards in bronze masks and uniforms approaching. Their orderly formation and slow approach were extraordinarily imposing.
They were guards from Tirna.
And at the head of the guards was a face familiar to Osian.
'Alensia Hair, the Executioner.'
She walked slowly, wearing the same metal boots he had seen before.
Hermut greeted her.
"Nice to meet you. I am Hermut Bummer."
"I am Alensia Hair."
"Oh my. I didn't expect to meet the famous White Beast."
"I also didn't expect to meet one of the Thirteen Judges of the Petra Holy Court here."
Alensia’s gaze momentarily fell on Osian before returning to Hermut.
"So, what exactly is happening here?"
Alensia didn't know the details of the current situation. Her report only indicated that something suspicious was happening at the Petra diocese's church in the 29th district.
And the moment she saw a series of paladin units approaching, her suspicions became certainty.
Something was happening there.
Since this occurred within Tirna, she, as an executioner, had no choice but to step in.
"Hmm. That would be difficult for me to explain."
As Hermut deliberately avoided answering, Alensia frowned. It was an action that could easily be perceived as a confrontation.
The guards seemed to sense this too, and stared sharply at the reflection squadron.
The reflection squadron standing behind Hermut remained silent, as if they couldn't care less.
This alone made the atmosphere suffocating.
"Oh, it seems I've said something that could be misunderstood. I'm not stepping forward because I'm not the person in charge of this scene."
"One of the Thirteen Judges claims they're not in charge? That's quite the joke."
"Haha. It might seem that way. But it's true. Because there's an even more distinguished person here."
"A more distinguished person?"
At that moment, Alensia’s gaze turned backwards.
An elderly man was slowly walking from the path they had entered.
But just by his presence, it felt like the entire world was revolving around this old man.
Recognizing the old man, Alensia’s eyes widened.
"The Holy Lord?"
The Holy Lord, who should have been in the Petra Order's Holy Court, had revealed himself in Tirna.