Chapter 78

Erabelle naturally assumed it was a dream.

Otherwise, this would be an even bigger headache.

“Lady Vermilion. We took considerable risks to bring you here. We paid a very high price just to summon you.”

The priest lowered his voice.

“So I hope you will treat this situation with the seriousness it deserves.”

That was asking a lot at a first meeting.

He went on at length about how many of them had been injured and how many resources they had burned to seize this brief opportunity.

The longer he talked, the calmer Erabelle became.

He talked too much.

At this rate, he was going to recommend an excellent insurance policy any second now.

“I don’t buy insurance.”

Erabelle cut him off first.

“...What?”

“Then is it a jade floor mat?”

“......”

The priest calmly poured her a cup of tea.

Impressive.

Erabelle studied him, searching for another way to get under his skin.

People usually showed their true colors quickly once they got angry. She used that trick often enough to be good at it, but he refused to take the bait.

That made her uneasy.

Dezeb despised Sanctuary, which controlled eighty percent of the world’s contractor market.

Having a dream Dezeb would hate could not possibly be good for her mental health.

“My lady, this is neither a dream nor some sales pitch. No... perhaps it is a sales pitch, in a sense. We did bring you here to persuade you.”

So it was a jade floor mat.

Erabelle was just about to explain in detail that she had no money, no savings, and, if anything, a mountain of medical expenses after the accident.

This time, however, the priest spoke first.

“I wish to tell you about the end.”

Ah.

A cult.

“I’m not religious.”

“......”

The priest paused.

“You are a very difficult person to talk to.”

“If you pay me 10cp up front, I’ll do my best to keep pace with you for an hour.”

“Are you... asking me for money?”

“Yes.”

Her expression said the rest plainly enough.

If you were going to ask something of her, the least you could do was pay.

The priest collected himself and pretended nothing strange had happened.

“That is a remarkably specific amount.”

“The minimum hourly wage.”

“...I believe last year’s imperial minimum wage was 8.5cp.”

Why does he know something that useless?

“I must have remembered wrong.”

“......”

Even beneath the hood, with only his nose visible, she could feel his suspicious stare.

Hm... When is this stupid dream going to end?

“Lady Erabelle Vermilion, as I said, we did not go to all this trouble merely to trade jokes with you.”

He spoke gravely, then handed her a 10cp bill.

He actually paid her?

She should have asked for more.

Erabelle folded the bill neatly, slipped it into the pocket of her sweatpants, and felt a pang of regret.

The priest watched her with a faintly forlorn air before speaking again, still perfectly solemn.

“My lady, please break up with that man.”

“That... man?”

“Avganis. Dezeb Avganis.”

For a moment, Erabelle had no words.

Good grief.

She stared at this two-meter-tall mother-in-law in stunned admiration.

A morning drama she had watched thirteen years ago, recreated like this?

And now with a Sanctuary priest?

Amazing.

Still, should this kind of scene not come with a fat envelope of cash?

You did not deliver a line like that after paying minimum wage.

“You just said you wanted to tell me about the end.”

“It is related.”

The apocalypse and a morning drama?

“My lady. You lived in a conflict zone for some time, did you not? Then you must have seen them. The dead...”

Whatever strange hybrid of genres this was, it was mildly surprising to hear him bring up the dead rather than monsters.

She had seen them.

Unlike the man-eating monsters that caused actual casualties, the dead posed no real threat, so she had never paid them much attention.

Mostly, they complained when the sunlight did not reach them and they were cold, or when the weather was too damp for laundry to dry.

“This world is rotting.”

He pushed the tea he had poured toward her and continued.

“The dead who should pass through Oblivion and return to the cycle are stagnating inside the beasts and decaying. At this rate, our world cannot escape destruction.”

“......”

“To prevent that, you must leave Avganis.”

“I see...”

Well.

That was certainly more socially convenient than being chosen as some legendary hero destined to avert the apocalypse.

Maybe she had watched too many dramas.

Maybe stanning actors had finally gone too far.

Perhaps it was time to switch to idols.

“This is my first time encountering this particular setup, so I really can’t resist asking. What exactly does the apocalypse have to do with the commander’s private life?”

“Avganis is an incarnation.”

Erabelle merely smiled.

The fact that she managed to keep a straight face was nothing short of a miracle born from years of corporate survival.

Damn.

She had almost cursed him out to his face.

“I’m not sure I understand...”

“You do.”

“......”

“He is Oblivion.”

When Erabelle still did not touch the tea, the priest picked up the cup and drank it himself.

“But he is incomplete. He neglects his own divinity.”

That made no sense.

It was like saying a human was neglecting to breathe, or a fish was neglecting its gills.

“Neglecting his divinity, abandoning his duty... he has become an evil god. One who brings ruin.”

The priest ground his teeth.

Anyone who had not already been thoroughly seasoned by the Dogs would probably have broken into goosebumps and been unable to sit still.

“Filthy. Vile...”

The hatred of a higher being felt sharp enough to pierce flesh.

“My lady.”

“Yes.”

He tilted his head as he looked at her.

The movement was a little...

Just a little...

“Have you never felt that something was wrong when you looked at him? That he was disgusting, irritating, creepy, horrifying?”

Like a chicken.

Yes.

A little like a chicken.

Or maybe a pigeon.

The way he moved was definitely bird-like.

“That is because he is not a whole being.”

Birds.

If the Dogs were like dogs, then this priest was like a bird.

Dog-bir...

Put those together and it became a slur.

Perfect.

Dog-birds.

No.

That was not quite right.

The Dogs were more like snakes than dogs.

Still, “dogs” sounded better.

These damn dog-birds.

“Warped, twisted, collapsing... You are thinking about something else.”

“No. I’m listening carefully.”

“You said you would keep pace with the conversation if I paid you.”

“I am.”

If you paid minimum wage, you got minimum effort.

Hand her a measly 10cp and expect premium labor, and they were going to have a problem.

“You truly are difficult to talk to.”

With a sigh, the priest rose and reached a hand toward her.

“As I said, he is not a proper being. Warped, twisted, collapsed. If you remain by his side...”

Erabelle wanted to flee, but her body would not move.

Frozen like a mouse before a cat, she could only watch as the priest touched her forehead.

“This is what happens when you become entangled with him, my lady.”

Black veins spread from the point of contact.

More and more of them.

From her head to the tips of her fingers, until they covered her entire body.

Erabelle raised one hand and stared at her arm.

Dark red runes crowded her skin like veins, strands of blood-red letters flowing over her flesh...

“At this rate, you will soon be degraded into the same thing as those creatures. You will never find true rest. Neither human nor beast, unable to live and unable to die, wandering endlessly and existing only at his mercy. Can you call that a life?”

The letters linked together like chains, layer upon layer.

Pale flesh, like the hand of a corpse, packed densely with them...

“So, for your own sake, leave his side. And for everyone else’s.”

His tone softened, coaxing her as though soothing a child.

“You are in the way. Very much in the way. Because he...”

The mouth that had seemed capable of talking forever suddenly fell silent.

The priest’s gaze, fixed on her trembling arm, disappeared from view.

“I.”

Long, slender fingers covered her eyes.

A cool scent drew close.

“Have come to want you very much. Breathe.”

Erabelle inhaled sharply.

The breath she had unconsciously been holding flooded back into her lungs.

Once her breathing steadied, the large hand covering her eyes moved down to her chin.

Her head was tipped upward.

She looked at him.

“Erabelle.”

A chilling shadow passed across Dezeb’s beautiful face.

“What are you doing here? I worked myself to the bone all night so you wouldn’t dream, and this is what you’re doing?”

“I... I was working a part-time job.”

Her voice came out strangely, and Erabelle stumbled over the words.

“...?”

Dezeb looked baffled.

Erabelle fumbled in her pocket, pulled out the neatly folded bill, and held it up.

“I made 1.5cp above minimum wage.”