Chapter 537

[Son, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously searching for you.]

I stood there without moving.

Looking up at the sky, I stood in the middle of the chaos with my staff driven into the ground, letting divine power flow through it. Time, like a veil, became wind and flowed across the earth in irregular, slanted spheres before coming to a halt.

The ticking of the pocket watch stretched out, then broke apart with the vastness of a single drop of jade-clear water touching the surface of a pond. No hand could move forward any longer.

A speech written with astonishing clarity and simplicity, one that anyone could understand even if they knew nothing of religion. It was meant to speak to every European.

They spoke briefly and plainly, embracing even those who had turned their eyes away from religion in an age when atheism and materialism had risen to prominence, so they could tell everyone that Christ was here.

[Through the Ein Feshkha manuscripts, we have learned what we must do. Therefore, from this moment on, we shall carry out exactly what the prophet of the Old Testament has newly proclaimed to us today. Christ has come to the earth today. He has come to this age in the lowliest form. You all know very well the person who caused such a stir throughout our land more than a decade ago. You know the child who was despised for taking the blood of beasts and cutting out human hearts because of an incurable, wretched, and base disease. Today, Christ has manifested upon our land, lowering even a cradle filled with grace, wealth, and blessings to the lowest and humblest life, according to the nature He Himself chose. For more than a decade, we who wandered in search of Christ rebuked the lost child who seemed to be leading the world down a path of decadence, saying, ‘Son, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously searching for you.’]

You did that to Lukas Askanien.

[Why did you drink the blood of wolves, and why did you kill people for the sake of blood? Behold! An age descending into decadence because of those born with no choice but to pursue blood and hold life in contempt—an age of injustice that Christ Himself would mourn!]

There was one truth that could be refined from all those tangled facts—Lukas Askanien was not hated from childhood until this very day simply because he had done something disgusting by drinking blood.

He was hated because he was considered wrong.

Wrong in what way?

Because of you, everything is going wrong.

Because of you, the ethics of this age are forgotten. Humanity is forgotten. Common sense is forgotten.

Because of you, everything is collapsing, and because of you, the order of things is no longer what it once was.

In this way, there is a reason for our reproach. Our reproach is on the side of good, and it becomes the bare minimum attempt to preserve virtue. Those who deserve condemnation are made into such people. It is no different from making someone into a person who deserves to die.

I remember a question I once heard, Why take such an interest in German scholarship?

Because their past is not unrelated to our present. We have changed since those days, but perhaps nothing has actually improved. I want to believe that we have moved forward, yet I know that the belief that humanity progresses with every passing moment is not an absolute truth. It is merely a theory.

The only thing I can kneel before and take comfort in is the thought that perhaps the idea that nothing has improved is also just a theory.

I do not reject the theory that, as one philosopher argued, clinging too tightly to the pursuit of justice causes us to lose virtue. But in this case, that theory can coexist with the one I mentioned before.

I have always wondered.

I wanted to understand people. I wanted to understand the masses. Because I had to endure their words and actions exactly as they were, I wanted to know why they said and did such things.

If their young age or their shallow thinking were the cause, then the older, wiser adults among them should not have reinforced those ideas. So that could not have been the cause.

I was always younger than them, or at least their equal in age, and as they did their utmost to condemn others by casting stones at them, I came to stand here today, still like this.

That is how I came this far.

I was always searching for the cause behind them, tracing it back, then further back, and further still, wandering between shelves of books, and I asked myself: Could one confidently declare that the Germany of those days had nothing to do with the world of our time?

One could.

We did not arrive at the present under the same geopolitical circumstances as they did. They were one of the Axis powers in World War II, the world unfolded according to the will of the Allies, and Germany clearly apologized for and reflected upon its atrocities.

We have progressed since then. We can call wrong things wrong. In our time, which has learned so painfully from the horrors of World War II, no kind of destruction of personhood or genocide takes place.

Nazi Germany will never arise again in our time. Nor is it likely that the small fragments that bring them to mind—the eugenics that made extreme nationalism and statism possible, or the dehumanization imposed upon individuals—will ever return. And even if such things did happen, we would correct ourselves.

I want to believe that alongside those who say, ‘Truly, no matter how closely you look, there is nothing remotely the same.’

I am certain that if I had been capable of thinking that way, I would never have made it to where I am today…

I saw the signs of neo-eugenics, and even before neo-eugenics, I encountered more than enough of the widespread eugenic thinking that could make it possible. My own profession was sometimes criticized in that regard, and I never objected to that criticism.

I saw a kind of public-opinion warfare that, rather than engaging in constructive dialogue or listening carefully to the other side, dehumanized anyone once they were deemed to belong to the opposing camp. Even when criticized, it only became more widespread.

That was why I could not agree with another philosopher who divided responsibility for the crimes of Nazi Germany into four categories: criminal, political, moral, and metaphysical.

That did not mean that war criminals could not be held criminally responsible, nor did it mean that the German people bore no political, moral, or metaphysical guilt. Contrary to their intention, such a distinction narrowed the scope of responsibility. In a society where moral pluralism had been driven to extremes without any sense of moderation, such a distinction allowed those who should have reflected on themselves to escape being held fully accountable.

Pluralism taken to the extreme paradoxically makes the other cease to exist.

Those who think alike come together. They come together and isolate themselves. Within, they all become the same, while outside, they remain in a state where they never meet…

The era I lived in continues.

Just as there were not only people who praised the foolishness of their own age back then, there are not only people who praise the foolishness of ours today. We see those who urge us to look back upon ourselves, and we believe that we are progressing. We see a sliver of hope in them.

There were people in that age who lamented the injustices of their time, and there are people today who lament the injustices of theirs.

Then can we really sever ourselves from an age by believing that humanity is always progressing from a wrong and inferior past? Can we determine that simply from the number of people who engage in such self-reflection?

Under the distorted proliferation of pluralism and relativism, when each group isolates itself rather than coming into contact with the others, can we distinguish progress from regression based on the number of members in each camp?

To me, saying that humanity continues to progress is both hope and another stroke of the knife.

I had to rely on the argument of a philosopher I mentioned earlier. They said that there are things that must not be pluralistic or relative.

I asked why they wanted me to die, and people told me that it was not I who was wrong, but them. They make up no small part of the age. Yet those who grow angry at me for not dying are also the pillars of this age. They are all them. Divided, yet not divided.

That is why I cannot remain a scholar within academia. My conviction is not an axiom. It is a defense and a question uttered before a cliff. As someone who must die, yet must not truly die, someone who must remain dead forever, I ask myself.

Can they think?

[Therefore, I know that our words today will be an act of injustice, much like the council of the Jewish leaders who sent Christ down the path to His death. Yet the Ein Feshkha Manuscript tells us to do so. It tells us that only then will we become what we are meant to be.]

I contort my face and let out a laugh.

By openly declaring what they are doing, Pleroma has lowered a lifeline down to me.

That is why what Pleroma is offering me is less violent than the violence my profession once inflicted upon me. My profession had reduced me to the point where I was expected to regard as a fundamental virtue the very thing I could never accomplish—protecting myself from the tribulation that had already begun, even as I was told by those who believed it virtuous to die without dying, to die forever. It was perhaps money that made it possible to insist that I was not merely someone who deserved to be insulted, but someone who ought to make that very state a duty. But none of that matters anymore.

Pleroma, on the other hand, offers me a favor that feels almost like a joke before letting go of the controller of this tribulation.

From now on, I have to trust the public’s ability to decipher this one sentence.

Do you understand what Pleroma is saying? Can I trust you not to blindly follow along with what Pleroma wants? All the years that came before tell me.

I cannot trust you.

Time passes.

The number +7 drops to +6. +6 drops to +5.

I have to turn back time.

But then I ask again.

What is going to happen will happen even if I turn back time.

I’ve already experienced it more than twenty times.

Those who are going to die keep dying. Those who are going to live keep living. Those who are going to fall in that place keep falling.

Sometimes the ones who die and the ones who live switch places, but the greater situation does not change.

Even so, should I turn back time?

To when?

You said you were going to catch a sheep¹.Right. Were you trying to change fate? You failed and came to the ‘capital,’ didn’t you? You never said it had anything to do with me, but that’s what I think.

Naturally.

I don’t know whether Narke Farnese’s Precognition failed to work, or whether he simply didn’t tell me because there was nothing we could do to stop it.

But I don’t blame him.

I couldn’t resent anyone.

It simply never happened.

And so, foolishly, I did nothing but watch until the very end.

Right.

And after all that, you still call yourself human?

Every grievance and every word of praise I have heard all my life come together and become tangled.

That is why you are not human.

It seemed to be saying that. I opened my mouth and recited a spell without even realizing it. Every word gathered into a mass, then scattered apart in masses. My mind was clear, and I ran.

I had to be strong.

Therefore, I had to forget everything as time passed. I didn’t know why, but only that proposition remained in my mind. It drove me forward.

Completely ignoring what was going to happen to me, pretending there had been nothing, disregarding my own will, I felt someone fall against my sword. I felt something wet and viscous burst beneath my boots.

Sometimes running clears your head.

What had I been thinking about? I didn’t know what had left such a persistent discomfort in my chest, making me feel so unsettled.

Contradiction upon contradiction upon contradiction.

I poured an extra potion over the blood splashed across my eyes and ran without hesitation. As if saying, So what if I have something like that?

Christ will refine the earth with fire and destroy us with fire.

I couldn’t close my eyes.

Yet the day when He will save us through that very fire of judgment is near.

I didn’t know how He could possibly save us. I didn’t even know whether I deserved it.

The name Lukas Askanien, which people all across Europe would soon be speaking, and everything that would happen afterward were not the future, but a past that had already happened; not the past, but the present of today; not the present, but the future that came next.

Yesterday, today, and tomorrow, I did not resent the mouths and gleaming eyes of everyone across this continent.

Instead, I lamented and worried.

All of time spoke inside my head.

Son, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously searching for you.

And so I say to you, ‘Why were you searching for me? Didn’t you know I had been there all along, that it was you who left that place at every moment?’

6:07 PM.

General Oettingen drove an artifact pin into the drawing he had made with mana. As he inserted it, the same image appeared on the enormous strategic map spread across the table behind him.

There were eight Pleroma dioceses in Bavaria.

One of them, the Archdiocese of Munich–Freising, had already dispersed, and he heard that the remaining personnel were stationed at headquarters.

So, in practical terms, Bavaria had seven Pleroma dioceses left.

But, cunningly, the three southern dioceses had merely moved their locations to the Brandenburg region.

That was by no means advantageous for Bavaria.

It meant they couldn’t even capture the tens of thousands of Pleroma members who had lived as though Bavaria were their own land. Instead, they had to sit by and watch them remain stationed far away in Prussia, unable to do anything but twiddle their thumbs.

And all without weakening Pleroma’s forces in the slightest.

General Oettingen drew a deep breath, then closed his mouth.

However, if they coexist, dealing with the four northern dioceses will become difficult as well. For now, they need to completely wipe out the four northern dioceses that have established a foothold in Bavaria and can pose a real military threat to the region—in other words, the Bamberg ecclesiastical province.

First, in order of deployment, the most critical Bamberg–Eichstätt will be handled by the 10th Infantry Brigade, the 2nd Infantry Regiment, and a total of 70 Catacombs mages. Würzburg will be handled by the 7th Infantry Brigade, the 10th Division, and a total of 151 Catacombs mages, while Speyer will be handled by the 11th Infantry Brigade, the 8th Division, and a total of 132 Catacombs mages.

Volunteers have been deployed to the capital on reconnaissance duty, but they are still on standby. Once they receive the signal, they will enter the operation. Since mages are overwhelmingly fewer in number than non-mages, they could not deploy any more personnel than this. If at least 70 and as many as 151 people came at them at once, even a bishop would have no way of dealing with them. No matter how powerful a mage was, fighting dozens of opponents at once was difficult. The same was true of the Royal Army, since only those with proven ability at home and abroad had been gathered for this operation.

“Under no circumstances let them escape to the headquarters. That is our first priority.”

That was Oettingen’s order, and there had still been no word from the capital.

Just how much money had been poured into this operation? Even temporarily overhauling the coordinate system had cost an enormous amount. Still, with infrastructure like this in place, they should be able to prevent them from escaping to the headquarters.

At 6:10, his subordinates, who were receiving reports through the artifacts, slowly began to speak.

“We have received a report from the 10th Division. Of the two auxiliary bishops and one coadjutor bishop accompanying the Bishop of Würzburg, we successfully killed one of the auxiliary bishops. Five are currently wounded, with no fatalities.”

“We have received a report from the 8th Division that they successfully killed the auxiliary bishop and coadjutor bishop of Speyer. Twenty-three are wounded, with no fatalities. There are too many wounded, so we’ve ordered them to hold position for the moment and provided them with the temporary coordinates of a hospital.”

Oettingen nodded in satisfaction and looked toward the most important Bamberg–Eichstätt operation.

The footage transmitted through the mirrors mounted on each person’s shoulder occupied one wall. Unlike the Bishop of Speyer, who had been foolishly wandering around within his own diocese, the two bishops had fled into downtown Nuremberg. The sound of someone loudly shouting over and over drowned out the sounds from the scene, but so far, no significant report had come in.

Just then, a subordinate approached and spoke.

“Your Excellency, Pleroma’s broadcast has ended.”

Oettingen took one of the artifacts and handed the line over to his adjutant before asking, “Good. They said it would be quieter now. What did they say?”

“They claim to have discovered a new biblical manuscript in Palestine, within the Ottoman Empire.”

Oettingen narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth.

A new manuscript? If that were true, could it mean there was another book of Scripture to add? Or was it an existing biblical manuscript? Either way, the fact that such a precious relic had fallen into their hands was impossible. They would have to gather archaeologists from Bavaria and send them to the Ottoman Empire immediately.

But that was something to consider after the operation, not during it, so Oettingen asked curtly, “Is that all?”

“No, it’s just that…”

The subordinate trailed off, his eyes darting from side to side. Only then did Oettingen realize that his face had gone deathly pale.

Unlike all the other mages in the strategy room, who were busily receiving and relaying reports, this person looked almost like a corpse standing there by himself. He had been the one to go outside and listen to Pleroma’s voice. But even so, acting this timidly was ridiculous.

Oettingen pressed him sternly.

“Do you have time to waste?”

“No, Your Excellency. Pleroma claims that Christ the Savior has manifested on earth.”

“What? When?”

The announcement had not said when. The subordinate stood there with an expression that made it clear he had no idea how to answer.

Oettingen snapped impatiently,

“If you don’t know, say you don’t know and go! Are their ramblings important right now? Christ is coming again, is he? Then where has Christ come? If this were peacetime, everyone would surely be rushing to the church, but this is different. Our mages aren’t going to be shaken by this.”

“Lukas Askanien.”

Oettingen closed his eyes and furrowed the bridge of his nose. He pressed his eyelids shut tightly, then opened them again and stared irritably at his subordinate.

What? What about Lukas Askanien?

The subordinate waved his hands as he hurried to explain.

“That is exactly what they said! Check the Imperial Dailies. The movements of the Prussian government that our intelligence bureau has been tracking are also deeply concerning.”

Oettingen doubted his own ears. Thinking that the thought currently forming in his mind was far too blasphemous, he let out a hollow laugh.

“So, Lukas Askanien. What comes next?”

“They say Lukas Askanien is Christ the Savior himself.”

Silence fell.

The other mages who had overheard them stopped what they were doing and stared with their mouths hanging open. Everyone’s eyes turned toward the two mages.

The mages soon remembered their duties and returned to their work, but their eyes were shaking wildly.

Oettingen was no different.

“Your Excellency, you’ve been in the middle of the operation, so you haven’t seen the reaction outside.”

Oettingen shook his head and muttered, “That Pleroma brat.”

“Yes.”

“The one with those bloodshot eyes…”

“Yes. The very person you’re talking about, General Oettingen. Pleroma claims that he is Christ.”

Oettingen had gone just as pale. He wiped a hand across his mouth.

I knew it. I knew this would happen. I could tell from the moment that bastard from Anhalt, that bloodsucker, survived instead of being discarded.

There was no way to know why Pleroma was calling that bloodsucker Christ. If anything, wasn’t he the one who had done the most to ruin their image? Shouldn’t they have rejected him? There was definitely something going on. Something we hadn’t known about—a deep connection between him and Pleroma.

Or perhaps that bloodsucker possessed some supernatural ability that Pleroma considered worthy of worship. Yes, what if there was something about his thirst for blood?

Oettingen felt sick as he remembered the newspaper article he had seen more than a decade ago. He turned to his subordinate and warned him.

“This is enough to drive a person mad. I knew something was wrong from the moment Prussia eagerly recruited him. You don’t actually believe what those charlatans are saying, do you?”

“Of course not. I’m a devout Christian. My Christ is Jesus Christ alone.”

That was how it should be.

Oettingen felt his mind clearing. He had to keep his composure. Just then, his eyes fell on the status board for Nuremberg. Oettingen watched the images coming through the mirrors attached to Nikolaus Ernst and the Crown Prince’s shoulders and nodded.

“They certainly picked someone who suits them. Someone like themselves, claiming that some bastard is Christ… Well, it would have caused even more confusion if they had said His Excellency Ernst was the Savior.”

“Indeed.”

“Looks like they didn’t go so far as to say Sir Nikolaus Ernst was the Savior. Probably because he’s done them too much damage…”

General Oettingen and his subordinate forced a smile as they continued talking.

Ah. It really was true.

Nikolaus Ernst was the person who had done more than anyone to set Pleroma on the path to ruin. He was the first to raise the issue of the area the Imperial Government had conveniently covered up under the name of a ‘contaminated zone’ at the Federal Council. Thanks to him, Pleroma’s grand biological weapons program was cut off at its roots.

And what about their rampage drug? Bavaria was the first state in the Empire to establish a rapid and effective system for responding to Rampagers. Because Nikolaus Ernst took action before their plans could fully take effect, the Empire had avoided dangers beyond everything it had already suffered.

It was also his achievement that had driven Pleroma into a corner and squeezed them for everything they had. Even now, as Bavaria was wiping out Pleroma in the region, much of the credit belonged to his preparations and plans.

Then again, there was something about Lukas Askanien’s side that gave him pause as well…

They would have to see how things unfolded.

Oettingen connected the artifact’s circuit and shouted toward the mages at the Nuremberg site.

“Do not let yourselves be shaken under any circumstances! You must not be distracted by talk of that student being Christ or whatever. Finding out the truth or eliminating that student is not our mission today.”

Even though they knew about Pleroma’s planned announcement at six, if they let themselves be swayed by it, they were no longer mages of Bavaria. Oettingen stopped himself before he could say as much.

Compared to the people outside the strategy room, Oettingen was not shaken at all. But as a soldier, he was far too unsettled.

He asked the subordinate assigned to the Crown Prince, “Have we received any word from His Highness the Crown Prince?”

“Not yet. The Bishop of Eichstätt is too strategically important.”

Oettingen pressed his lips together and nodded. This time, he switched lines to hear Nikolaus Ernst’s status and turned up the volume on the connected artifact.

— [For I regret that I have made them…]

A faint incantation came through.

Then, from the table assigned to Nikolaus Ernst, a sharp cry rang out.

“Your Excellency, Sir Nikolaus Ernst has won!”

Oettingen hurriedly looked toward the footage of Nuremberg.

The corpse of the Archbishop of Bamberg was visible. All around, people leaned halfway out of windows. A tremendous murmur could be heard, but it was different from the sound Pleroma had made when they spoke.

These were unmistakably human voices.

Without blinking, Oettingen watched the city and the surroundings around Nikolaus Ernst, listening carefully to make out the words.

“Nikolaus. His Excellency Nikolaus Ernst.”

It was unmistakably the same cry.

The voices blended together.

One of his subordinates shouted, his face bright with joy.

“Western Nuremberg is filled with cheers for Sir Ernst. Your Excellency, Bavaria has won again.”

“It is too early to celebrate.”

Oettingen cut him off.

But a smile was spreading across his face.

And yet Nikolaus Ernst really was winning.

After successfully eliminating the weakest bishop of Speyer, he had now succeeded in killing the Archbishop of Bamberg—the strongest one they had identified—with the fewest personnel and in the shortest time.

As long as he was there, Pleroma’s announcement that Christ had manifested in Lukas Askanien would not become such a great tribulation either.

Translator Note

1. Referring to Chapter 499, when Lukas asked Elias about Narke’s whereabouts. Elias replied that Narke had said he was going to catch a sheep. ↩︎