How do Inquisition Officers distinguish heretics? Why is the Inquisition Office the only one operated by the Vaitas Church among the sects of the Temple of the Gods? Once, Fernandez had such thoughts.
Those thoughts take him back to his days as Faijashi. Once, he had captured a Heretic who tried to assassinate him and asked:
“On what basis do you prove heresy and innocence?”
“You are a heretic!!”
“Ah, of course, I am a heretic. But do you believe that among those you burned, there were no innocent ones? Is it arrogance or fanaticism?”
Dissatisfied with the answer and having no reason to spare him, Faijashi took the Heretic’s life. The Heretic had answered with ‘investigation’ and ‘information.’
Faijashi, who had spent his life being chased by Inquisition Officers and aspiring heroes, had many opportunities. Those who could provide better answers always, truly always, came to him on their own.
So, once, he captured Enmagika, who tried to heal his magic, and asked:
“By what criteria do you distinguish demon worshippers from bandits? Don’t they both take lives and steal?”
“The minions of Hell cannot be free under the Lord’s gaze!”
“Don’t you use magic too? If you don’t draw on Hellish Magic, wouldn’t the magic of demon followers and yours look the same?”
Instead of answering, Enmagika bit his tongue. Unable to stop it in time, Faijashi clicked his tongue and used the corpse as an experimental tool.
The priest’s body was that of an ordinary mage. The magic circuits, composition, and resistance to Hellish Magic were nothing special.
And once, there was a time when Faijashi struggled in the terror of death.
“Vai- tasus’s- spirit!!”
“Please, just die already!”
“Spirit!!”
Diemonica. The heavenly demons created by Vaitas. Their divine bodies had strong resistance to almost all magic, and even demons couldn’t escape their grasp when trying to break them physically.
They charged in like wild boars, smashing through the traps he had carefully laid, one by one.
Noisy, stupid, and straightforward. But no demons could resist them in a straight line.
After a horrific battle he never wanted to recall, Faijashi barely managed to neutralize Diemonica. Though the once-renowned Ashen Dawn Society was completely destroyed, and he had to wander again after losing their infrastructure, he at least survived.
At that time, Faijashi struggled to speak to the neutralized Diemonica.
“What is the difference between demons and humans?”
“Shut up!”
“Tell me. How are we, whom you call heretics, different from you?”
“Demon worshippers smell!”
That was the only information Faijashi could gather. ‘Demon worshippers smell.’ He could never understand that statement in his lifetime.
But now, Fernandez could understand it. With Diemonica’s ‘sense of smell,’ he could.
It’s not the smell. To be precise, it’s instinct. Just as long-term magic training gives one an instinct for handling magic, and long-term swordsmanship gives a swordsman an instinct for reading the optimal strike.
When a Vaitas priest hunts demons for a long time, they develop an instinct. A fighting instinct and instinctive disgust that other priests don’t have.
It’s like the instinct of someone with obsessive-compulsive disorder. Fernandez classified this as a unique trait of Vaitas’s divinity.
Fortunately, he had developed such an instinct, which meant there were enough subjects for experimentation. Subjects to study how to use Dark Magic without being detected by the Inquisition Office.
When it came to experimenting on himself, Fernandez was practically an expert.
*
-Crackle.
Sitting in front of the campfire, Fernandez crossed his legs. The Dragonspine Mountains are deep and vast, and even Inquisition Officers can’t monitor every corner of the range.
Also, what kind of foolish demon worshipper would use Dark Magic and perform rituals right under the nose of the Inquisition Office?
-Either a fool or bold.
‘Exactly.’
It was effective in terms of surprise. Everywhere within a day’s travel from the Inquisition Office via the main roads was densely monitored by Heretics and Torchmen. So, if he had to work within a few days, this was the most reasonable choice.
Except for the minor issue of being sent straight to the stake if caught.
-Crackle.
He poured reagents into the campfire. The flames roared, and green fire erupted. Fernandez slowly reached his hand into the flickering fire.
It wasn’t hot. The massive magical formation around him and the precisely prepared reagents created flames that couldn’t harm his hand.
In the magical flames, Fernandez’s fingers curled one by one. The flames licked his fingers and the back of his hand, sending a tingling sensation up his arm.
-Crackle.
A black halo ignited behind Fernandez. The sound of a latch clicking echoed through the flames. The spell was complete.
[Speak.]
A hissing voice came from the flames. Soon, the flames flared up, and a familiar Beastman sat within, looking at him.
“Long time no see, Partak.”
[I thought you had forgotten me, my Lord.]
“Your usefulness hasn’t run out yet. How could I?”
Fernandez laughed as he watched the flames. Partak chuckled with a raspy voice.
[Yet, you never replied to my reports.]
“I’ve been busy.”
[I’ve heard rumors of strange movements in the east lately. Was that your doing, my Lord?]
“Yes. That’s why I need you. Any word from the Elders?”
[The usual. Eating, drinking, and…]
