Chapter 124: Uninvited

HI THERE! How was your april fool's? Mine was great!

Okay, okay. Here is chapter 124. For real:

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Production Booth

Monny, Levi, and Stan watched as the audience collectively gasped.

That did not, however, mean they understood what they were looking at.

On the main stage stood a seven-meter-tall gate-like structure, covered in glowing runes and intricate carvings that screams this was not decoration.

This was infrastructure.

Inside the production booth, Bub was already furious.

“Don’t tell me…” Bub growled, leaning closer to the glass.

“What’s that?” Monny muttered.

“No. No, no, no…” Bub whispered, eyes widening. “Please no.”

The other ministers exchanged looks. None of them had any idea what Bub was spiraling about.

From the main stage, Paerith’s voice rang out smoothly.

“We bestow upon your eyes the Grand Aether Transference Engine.”

He paused, just long enough to let it land.

“Or, in short—GATE.”

“GAAAAAH!!”

Bub completely lost it.

“THAT’S CHEATING!!” he screamed, grabbing fistfuls of what little hair he had left. “THAT’S NOT EVEN SUBTLE CHEATING—THAT’S SKIPPING THREE TECHNOLOGICAL ERAS AT ONCE!”

Monny blinked. “I’m… guessing that’s bad?”

---

Main Stage

Paerith stepped forward, hands folded calmly behind his back,

“This device allows the Radiant Concordat to send any object,”

He paused.

“Living or not,”

Another pause, deliberate.

“Across great distances, within seconds.”

A murmur swept through the audience.

Ignacio stepped up beside him, perfectly timed.

“And now,” he said, glancing toward the production booth—right at the Demon Dukes watching from behind the glass—his lips curling into a grin,

“we shall demonstrate how it works.”

Several mages moved forward in practiced formation. They placed a mana-comm pedestal at the front of the stage and activated it.

The crystal flared. A magical projection screen burst into the air, flickered, then stabilized.

The image showed a child priest, smiling brightly, flanked by heavily armed holy knights. Behind them stood another GATE, identical in design to the one on the main stage. In the background loomed a mountain with a very distinct silhouette.

The child priest waved cheerfully.

“Greetings, people of Murica, Ravendawn, and the other nations of Talvaris.”

He clasped his hands politely.

“I am Archpriest Raphael.”

Raphael smiled wider.

“I am truly grateful for the opportunity given to us at this magnificent World Expo.”

He tilted his head slightly, eyes sparkling with rehearsed innocence.

“Now, I believe you are eager to see how the GATE works.”

A brief pause.

“Or perhaps… whether it truly works at all.”

A ripple of small laughter spread through the crowd.

Raphael clapped his hands twice.

“So, without further ado,” he said playfully,

“let us see if our humble technology manages to impress you.”

The runes on Raphael’s GATE flared to life, glowing brighter and brighter. The carvings pulsed with soft light, as if energy was circulating through invisible channels. At the same time, on the main stage, the GATE activated.

Runes ignited, a low hum filled the air.

The space within the gate twisted. Warped. And began to distort.

---

Somewhere in Celeste, Underground Church

At the same moment the GATE began to stir, far beneath the surface of Celeste, a forgotten dungeon—long ago reshaped into an underground church by the Church of Celes—filled with sound.

Ten thousand Celestinians stood gathered in a perfect circle, surrounding the church at the center. Above them, atop the tower rising from the church, an elderly priest raised his arms and shouted down at the congregation.

“That’s it, my flock!” he cried. “Give all you have to Archpriest Raphael! Give all you have to the goddess!”

In unison, all ten thousand believers prayed harder than they ever had in their lives—harder than desperation, harder than fear, harder than instinct. Faces strained. Voices cracked. Bodies trembled as devotion was forced out of them.

Light began to seep from their bodies. Thin streams at first, then thicker, flowing from every kneeling believer toward the church at the center, like veins being drained.

Among them, the sickly old woman and her son knelt side by side. Sweat poured from their faces as they prayed, lips moving endlessly, breath coming shallow.

“Give without reserve!” the priest commanded from above.

“Complete your offering! Only when you surrender everything to the goddess shall you be rewarded with a place beside her!”

The chanting grew louder, the light grew brighter.

Even as legs buckled and backs hunched, no one stopped.

Then—

Thud.

The old woman collapsed. Her body had grown visibly thinner, as though something essential had been stripped away. She lay motionless on the stone floor. Her chest did not rise. She was not breathing.

Yet her son did not recoil. He did not cry. Instead, his eyes shone with reverence.

“Mother,” he whispered, voice trembling with joy, “you did it.”

He smiled at her corpse.

“You earned a place in heaven. Right beside the goddess.”

He clasped his hands together. “Look how beautiful you are right now.”

Around them, others began to fall. One by one, believers collapsed onto the stone floor, bodies emptying as the light leaving them grew thicker, more vivid.

“Yes! That’s it, my flock!” the priest cried, voice filled with awe.

“Oh, how magnificent!”

He watched as torrents of glowing energy surged upward from the church, pressing toward the ceiling.

“You have fulfilled your service to the church and the goddess,” he said softly.

“And now… I shall do the same.”

The priest dropped to his knees and began to pray. He did not hesitate.

---

Above the Underground Church

On the surface, Archpriest Raphael watched with satisfaction as the energy poured into the GATE. The space within the frame vibrated violently, the hum deepening as power circulated through it.

Then—

A burst of brilliant light erupted from the center. As it faded, a white, glowing surface filled the interior of the GATE—smooth, luminous, rippling gently like disturbed water.

Stable.

Raphael smiled.

He turned his attention back to the mana-comm.

“Now, as you can see, ladies and gentlemen,” he said cheerfully, “the GATE is fully powered and ready.”

He gestured lightly behind him.

“Some of you who have visited Celeste before may recognize the mountain in the background. That’s right—it is Mount Olympis, the iconic natural landmark of the Solis continent.”

---

World Expo, Main Stage

The audience remained transfixed, eyes glued to the magical holographic screen floating above the stage.

“—Sounds terribly far, right?” Raphael’s cheerful voice continued through the mana-comm.

“From Celeste… all the way to Dawn City?”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Everyone could feel what was coming but no one quite believed it should be possible.

“Well,” Raphael said, smiling as he clasped his hands together, “from today onward, distance is no longer a limitation.”

He spread his arms slightly, as if unveiling a generous gift.

“Not for Celeste. Not for Elvandar. And not for any future members of the Radiant Concordat.”

On the screen, Raphael turned away from the mana-comm pedestal. The holy knights flanking him followed suit, their movements precise, rehearsed, immaculate.

They began walking toward the GATE on the Celeste side.

“What the—” Stan muttered from the production booth. “Is that brat seriously planning to come here?”

“Oh boy…” Levi sighed. “This is going to be a problem.”

The audience collectively stopped breathing. On the screen, the first holy knight stepped into the GATE... and vanished.

One by one, the knights passed through, disappearing cleanly—no sparks, no explosions, no ominous screaming.

Then—

On the main stage, the GATE flared.

Holy knights stepped out. Alive. Intact. Marching in perfect formation, boots hitting the stage floor in synchronized rhythm, as if teleportation were merely a mild inconvenience.

“WHOOOOAAAAA!!”

The crowd erupted. Applause thundered through the expo hall.

“FUUUUUCK!!! THEY REALLY CAN DO IT!!!” Bub wailed from the production booth, clutching his head as he just watched physics get publicly humiliated.

Then, the final figure emerged.

Raphael.

Archpriest of Celeste.

One of the Seven Virtues.

One of the Archangels.

He stepped through the GATE calmly, robes pristine, expression pleasant. Into the Democratic Peacekeeping Coalition territory. Practically Murica’s front yard, with a smile.

The audience exploded into cheers, clapping wildly. The demons did not clap.

Raphael walked forward, taking several unhurried steps, positioning himself slightly ahead of Paerith and Ignacio. He made sure everyone could see him—every camera, every dignitary, every pair of widened eyes.

The applause gradually softened into reverent murmuring.

Then—

Without warning, without provocation. Raphael released his holy aura. It burst outward in a massive wave, radiant and overwhelming, filling the stage with divine pressure.

Bright. Heavy. Absolute.

Holy aura meant many things on Talvaris. To most races, it felt warm. Comforting. Like standing in sunlight filtered through stained glass.

To demons—

“HISSSSS!!!”

A wave of hissing tore through the Murican audience.

Not deliberate. Not organized. Pure instinct.

Lower-class demons recoiled, snarling, shoulders hunched, teeth bared like animals suddenly realizing they were standing in front of a predator. On the stage, Phoebe let out a wild hiss of her own, her body trembling violently, eyes unfocused.

“That bastard!” Stan snapped.

“Stan. Levi. Please go,” Monny said sharply.

The two Demon Dukes were already moving. Stan and Levi burst through the production booth window, glass exploding outward. They leapt—far too far, far too high—sailing cleanly over thousands of stunned spectators below.

They landed directly in front of Raphael.

Boom.

Demonic aura flared outward from both of them, thick, heavy, unmistakable.

Instantly, the holy knights, priests, and mages reacted. Weapons were raised. Spells primed. Formation tightened.

The atmosphere at the expo snapped taut. Cameras swung wildly, projecting the scene onto the massive stage monitors.

A child priest stood calmly, face-to-face with two towering Demon Dukes.

Holy aura and demonic aura collided in the air between them, grinding together like opposing tides.

It looked like David versus two Goliaths.

Except David was smiling.

On the side stage, Hannya—who had fortunately remained there the entire time, and even more fortunately was a noble-class demon—moved instantly.

She grabbed Phoebe and pulled her back, throwing up a barrier spell around both of them. Only then did Phoebe stop snarling.

She gasped, sucking in air like she’d been drowning, her body shaking violently.

“Pant—pant—w-what happened to me?!” Phoebe whispered, clutching her chest. “I—I felt so scared… like I was going to die.”

“You were,” Hannya replied flatly.

“You’re too close. Ten more seconds and that holy aura would’ve cooked you alive.”

At the center of the stage, nothing moved.

Raphael stood calmly, staring up at Levi and Stan.

Stan and Levi stared back.

All three were smiling. None of them were friendly smiles.

“Ah,” Raphael said pleasantly, his voice light and polite, “Defense Minister Satan, and Foreign Minister Leviathan—if I am not mistaken?”

“Right-o,” Stan grinned. “The one and only.”

“Yes, Archpriest Raphael,” Levi said smoothly, returning the smile. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Hahaha,” Raphael chuckled softly.

His eyes grew colder.

“Pleasure indeed.”