266. Paltennoia, The End of the Empire (4)
Religiosa Heretica. The Heretical Monastery. Hunters of heretics.
Religiosa Enmagika. The Witch’s Monastery. Hunters of witches.
Religiosa Diemonica. The Demon’s Monastery. Hunters of demons.
Thus, the three factions located in St. Bartholomew Monastery each took their main enemies as their banners. Though the naming was hardly appropriate for a monastery, it had a certain dramatic flair.
Fernandez had pondered deeply. What if he gathered those he knew from his past life—those who weren’t entirely hopeless, had some use, and might repent… or at least compromise—and formed a faction?
The idea that emerged from this was the group he had organized during his confrontation with Mumto, within the illusion. Religiosa Maledika. The Monastery of Sin. Commonly known as—
‘Hunters of the Wicked.’
Though the details were classified, unlike the other three officially sanctioned factions by the Church of the Temple of the Gods, the inquisitors of Maledika could never engage in official activities.
Their weapons were those of heretics, demon worshippers, the fallen, and exiled mages, and their beliefs were solely survival and profit.
But that was better. A clear enemy is easier to deal with than ambiguous goodwill. Moreover, the fact that these inquisitors lacked official sanction meant that even if they were sent on missions with extremely low survival rates and were consumed, the Church would suffer no loss.
If Maledika dies in the operation? The world’s evil disappears.
If the operation succeeds and Maledika executes the wicked? That also results in the world’s evil disappearing.
No matter the outcome, it’s either the lesser evil or the worst evil being sacrificed. The Church loses nothing.
“If anyone has complaints, speak now. I’ll persuade you.”
“……”
Gripping the sword hilt, Fernandez spoke coldly. The mages, well aware of the persuasion methods of an Inquisition Officer, silently stepped back without a word.
A stranger suddenly appears, threatening them to join his organization, and it just so happens to be the Church institution that has placed the largest bounty on their heads. The mages were both bewildered and resentful.
Marlin, trying to maintain composure, asked, “Didn’t you say we are driven by survival and profit? If you personally intervene, our lives might be spared, but what profit would we gain?”
“Bold.”
At Fernandez’s words, Marlin flinched. If this man were truly a devout Inquisition Officer, his words would merely be a judicial deal guaranteeing survival.
Follow me, and I’ll spare you. That one sentence would determine their fate. But as the representative of the group, Marlin had to push further.
A mage never gives up their own for cheap. Even if it’s their life. And Fernandez liked that attitude. A cold, calculating mage who understands the basics of a deal has great potential for growth.
“A few years ago, I promised my subordinates money and freedom. Allowances for each operation, basic salaries, and subsidies for maintaining their faith and free activities.”
“If you’re trying to buy our loyalty with cash, you’ll need quite a lot of money.”
“Haha, loyalty? Loyalty is the least valuable commodity I expect from you.”
Nothing is as cheap and volatile as the loyalty of wandering mages. Their highest values are survival and greater profit. Thus, in the operations of an Inquisition Officer where lives are at stake, they are dangerous elements who might betray their allies at any moment.
Fernandez shook his head and said, “There are two others who joined this organization before you. One in the Great Wilderness was guaranteed life and the power to become the shadow ruler of his tribe.”
“And what did the other receive?”
“Power.”
Partak in the Great Wilderness gained power, and Orion in the north obtained a line of the Secrets of Magic. During the subjugation of Ksharlax, Orion, seeing Fernandez’s combat techniques, craved the Secrets of Magic and swore loyalty to him.
Gaining sincere loyalty from wandering mages and heretics is extremely difficult, and even that loyalty is unreliable without a proper leash.
But power, the logic of power, is trustworthy. The alpha of a wolf pack must always be able to bite the throats of its subordinates.
“I will grant you power.”
“Are you not human, sir?”
“Not yet.”
Wasn’t that statement too arrogant? The mages dared not voice it, but dissatisfaction began to show on their faces.
Even if he possessed spellcasting abilities that could easily make him the head of a school, that only meant he was an outstanding mage, not a Transcendent Absolute Being.
And wandering mages were those who had kicked aside their own schools, seeking freedom and wandering aimlessly. A new constraint was hardly a welcome condition for them.
But Fernandez had a trump card to secure their obedience.
“Marlin. The biggest problem with your research on the Melting Curse of Flame Magic is that you’ve only learned the unique magic of Philainneil University. They’re obsessed with explosions, making delicate tasks like melting and erosion tricky with their magic circuit traits.”
“……!”
“So, look at this. If your spell is roughly like this now……”
As Fernandez gestured in the air, blue magical energy began to condense. The Bronze Throne activated, and a black halo ignited behind his head.
The beastman smoothly grasped the air and drew it out. Everyone present was a mage, so they could clearly see how precise and swift his magic formation was.
A level of expertise impossible for someone so young. And an overwhelming talent that revealed his age and experience. Not the reckless passion of youth, but a refined and steady… glimpse of perfected talent.
Like the scalpel of an imperial surgeon with decades of service. Like the chisel of a master craftsman with hundreds of apprentices. The mage’s gesture, with just one stroke and variation, exuded dignity and presence.
A masterpiece of fire magic at its peak. The thrill and awe of watching a stroke run across a blank canvas, and witnessing such a thing firsthand, swept through the room.
“Instead of this, like this.”
Fernandez crossed his gestures again. The nearly completed magical formation crumbled, and a new spell began to weave itself at his fingertips. The precise and exact central nodes shifted, this time with a dreamlike touch, forming a completely different shape.
The previously demonstrated magical formation was one…
If it seemed like a systematic gear mechanism, then you must have marveled at its functional beauty.
Now, in the spell that Fernandez was showing, one could feel the artistry in its form, structure, and the nuances within. This was craftsmanship. This was the ability of a mage who had reached the pinnacle, perfected. Marlin whispered almost in awe.
“That… was the answer… I’ve wasted the past three years in vain.”
“No. Your efforts have become your abilities. Devoting yourself to learning and exploring the mysteries is never in vain, Marlin.”
Fernandez spoke with as much solemnity as he could muster. In truth, the magic he had just shown was but a degraded version of the spell Marlin had perfected in her later years at the Calmburg Magic Academy.
Back then, the spell Marlin had reported to the academy was undoubtedly more beautiful and, at the same time, more lethal. Though it wasn’t his main focus, Fernandez had only reviewed the spell’s completion. Her spell from that time deserved to be recognized as a masterpiece in the mage society.
Yet, even that degraded replica was inspiring new paths for Marlin from twenty years ago. Fernandez spoke with a somewhat awkward expression.
“And where would there be completion and perfection in magic? Even if a god of magic existed, creating something perfect would be impossible.”
The word ‘perfect’ inherently contains a contradiction. Can there be an independent spell that is so complete it leaves no room for improvement? A spell that, regardless of all situations and conditions, produces the same output from the same input?
Impossible. Even the first realm, which creates dimensions and gods, where the world’s will manifests directly, cannot achieve this. At least in magic, there is no such thing as completion.
Therefore. Because there is always a better way than now. Because deeper mysteries lie everywhere, and more truths are buried beneath the surface. The mages of this world never cease their quest for wisdom.
Mages are such beings. And so they should be.
“If you aspire to higher places and desire more, follow me. What I can guarantee you is not freedom, safety, or power. Only knowledge.”
He surveyed the faces. Except for a few, most were familiar. His subordinates, colleagues, and sometimes students from his time at the Calmburg Academy.
Back then, they were the wanderers, drifters, losers, deserters, murderers, and heretics chased by all civilized societies.
Their future is bright. The magic they create is their own. They vaguely know this already. And Fernandez. No, Faijashi from back then.
-He never forgot any magic he had ever known.
Living as a wandering mage for forty years meant wandering alone, surviving, and exploring the secrets of magic.
One by one. The mages in the room bowed their heads. To this mysterious stranger. To this enigmatic young man they had met less than an hour ago. To the essential dignity. The presence in the spiritual realm. They willingly submitted to the difference in rank.
It was the moment the Religiosa Maledika was established.
* * *
Late that night, at the inn designated as the temporary headquarters of Maledika, the Shadow Academy, five groups of mages dispersed in different directions.
[You, take control of the central avenue’s canal next to Fellersil Street.]
[By force?]
[What nonsense are you talking about? Of course, by magic. All of you, the same. Here, here, here. And up to this building. These five areas must be subjugated by magic, and if there’s any resistance…]
Kill them. No matter who. Even if they are nobles or high-ranking officials, do not hesitate.
[But what about our safety…]
[In the name of the Temple of the Gods, after today, no one will be able to oppress you.]
He won’t live longer than today. Fernandez smiled as he said this. The Maledika shared the same smile.
Each of their spell research and magical knowledge was but a fragment, but it was enough as an advance for the operation. The mages willingly set off towards the locations Fernandez had mentioned.
Five areas of the city. Towards points that seemed entirely unrelated, centered around the Imperial Palace. None among them doubted his instructions or tried to discern his intentions.
‘If the Emperor is deploying a magical formation on a national scale…’
The center must be the Imperial Palace. The Emperor has not left the palace for a long time, and now the palace is almost in a state of lockdown.
He didn’t even appear at the laboratory he had painstakingly built, even releasing the plague in the capital. This means the place where everything is planned and prepared is the Imperial Palace…
‘Assuming the Imperial Palace as the central node. Drawing the magical formation above it.’
On a national scale, an imperial scale. Including the principalities ruled by each Duke, assuming a massive radial magical formation. Since the moment he saw the summoning circle in Urkasia days ago, he had been waiting for this day.
Establishing the framework and filling in the details. The reverse engineering technique of magical formation diagrams. A basic technique to analyze and dissect the enemy’s magical formation.
On a large scale, viewed from afar, it’s national. But if the central node is clear, more detailed, drawing the conversion nodes and sacrificial nodes connecting from each region, the substitution coefficients—
‘Sub-items of the Great Magic. Assuming there are variations extending from the central node to the outside.’
The Emperor’s magical formation is a ‘sacrifice’. Prepared within the empire, the souls from burning corrupted villages flow into the Imperial Palace of Paltennoia through a kind of ‘passage’.
Occupy the areas corresponding to each gateway of that passage. Yes. Those who have left now will each act as a kind of magical wedge.
The flow of the magical formation is cut off, the spell is destroyed. But is that enough?
‘No.’
Inserting a magical wedge to stop the magic is rather simple. If you’ve already grasped the enemy’s magic.
So take one step further. ‘Utilize’ the enemy’s magic. Connect the magical wedges and draw a new magical formation on top. The signature spell [Fernandez’s Reversal]. A spell that reverses the enemy’s magic to craft your own.
“It’s a reversal of the situation.”
Fernandez smiled slightly and pulled up his hood. In the inn, now empty as all the mages had dispersed in different directions. He whispered softly and pushed the door open.
The sticky night breeze of summer brushed through the alleyways.
It’s Maledika’s first operation. As a faction of the Inquisition, we must set an example.
We will burn the Imperial Palace. The Emperor, that demon.
The heretics.
Leaving the inn where everyone had departed, heading towards the Imperial Palace. A single Inquisition Officer walked the streets.
* * *
“Now, let’s think of an operation name.”
“…An operation name?”
“Despite appearances, this will be recorded as an official operation of the Inquisition Office. We need to submit an operation report to the superiors.”
“Did you have something in mind, sir?”
Prince Robert said that for the new to stand straight, the rotten must fall. To endure the next thousand years of history, we must destroy the empire of the past thousand years.
Sweet and beautiful fairy tales of reconstruction and future hopes are not for them. Maledika. The Monastery of Sin must do something more sticky and unsettling.
“The End of the Empire. How about that?”
The Maledika burst into laughter. Toppling the pompous and arrogant noble pigs of the empire and smashing their corrupt barns would be a satisfying task, apart from justice.
“I like it.”
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