251. Secret Operation: Judgment
The Inquisition Office was bustling with more Inquisition Officers than ever since its founding. Following Beorn’s general summons, every Inquisition Officer, regardless of rank, was tied to the headquarters.
Even the Diemonica lowered their voices amidst the strange atmosphere permeating the monastery. Despite the largest gathering of agents in history, paradoxically, the monastery was quieter than ever.
And within the depths of that monastery, a Diemonica was walking. A towering man approaching his twilight years. It was Zephis.
– Knock knock.
“Who is it?”
“Brother, it’s Zephis.”
“Come in.”
The door to the Monastery Head’s office creaked loudly and opened heavily. Through the gap, Zephis paused for a moment. Beorn, with dark circles under his eyes, was buried under piles of documents.
The Monastery Head’s massive desk was cluttered with numerous stacks of papers. It was an unusual sight for Beorn, who was usually meticulous in handling reports.
Zephis glanced at the document in his hand. Was it morally right to hand this over? His hesitation was brief. He placed the report on the table and stood before Beorn.
“What is it?”
“A proposal for an operation.”
“By order of the Papacy, all operations of this office are temporarily suspended. Go back.”
“Then why aren’t you resting, Brother?”
Zephis pulled a chair and sat across from Beorn. As Beorn handed him a teacup, Zephis nodded slightly and took a sip.
“How long has it been?”
“Three days.”
“Brother, you are not a Diemonica. If you collapse now, the monastery is finished.”
Beorn chuckled at his words. If the absence of one person could collapse the entire organization, it was a problem with the system. Zephis’s words were less of a concern and more of a critique.
The Pope’s ban on heresy investigations was an impractical decision given the circumstances. Heresy investigations inevitably required the cooperation of the Secular Kingdoms. They might not see it as cooperation, but it was nearly impossible to eradicate heresy and conduct investigations solely on the Church’s authority.
The nobles of the secular world, and the cultists closely linked to them. To burn the heretics hiding in back alleys and shadows disguised as ordinary people, both justification and practicality were needed. And the Church was experiencing its greatest loss of secular authority since the Council Declaration.
Attempting heresy investigations could unnecessarily provoke the Secular Royal Families. The Royal Families of the Eastern Kingdom were already suspicious of the Vaitas Church, and after the Shield Church violated the neutrality pact, the Church’s authority was increasingly and fatally eroding.
If this continued, the Inquisition Office could no longer exist. Their biggest justification for capturing the people and burning heretics was the Church’s neutrality.
However, therefore. There was something strange about Beorn’s overwhelming workload now. If the Inquisition Office had lost its function, what could possibly keep the Monastery Head so busy?
“Let’s see. A request to investigate cultists in the Pargas Plains. A series of disappearances in Wolfram City. Hmm. This is from the Gardan region. This is the work of trolls.”
“…Brother.”
“Are you categorizing heresy cases? What’s the point of all this? We can’t even start an investigation right now.”
“Brother. If we stop, who will save them?”
Beorn pushed the report aside and spoke. He pressed his tired eyes with his fingers and groaned.
“I don’t know when this situation will resolve. But one thing is certain. For every moment we stop, for every step we halt, the demon worshippers will take one step forward.”
“Good intentions without action are no different from evil.”
“We will repent together later. All of us. But now, our inaction is to eradicate a greater evil. Temple of the Gods… no. Lord Vaitas, grant us your blessing.”
Beorn removed his hand from his eyes. His single eye was bloodshot with fatigue.
“On the day our shackles are broken again. At the very least, we must be prepared. The cultists will be more rampant than ever, and false prophets and apostates will rise against us.”
“You don’t have to shoulder all that preparation alone, Brother.”
“Brother. My work goes against the will of His Holiness the Pope and the Papacy. If problems arise later, one apostate should suffice.”
“As it is said, our path has always been the same. Let us pray until we meet again.”
Zephis pushed the report he was holding in front of Beorn. Beorn slowly opened the pages. It was an ordinary operation proposal. But the destination…
“Paltennoia… Targeting the Imperial Palace?”
“And the Shield Church.”
The capital of the Empire, Paltennoia. Home to the largest diocese of the Shield Church and the heart of civilized society. And perhaps… the largest nest created by vampires.
Sometimes, some tumors must be carried for a lifetime. The kind of tumor that, if cut out, would immediately kill the host. From the Church’s perspective, Paltennoia had become such a tumor.
The high monks of the Temple of the Gods all suspect the Emperor’s corruption. To be precise, not as a demon cultist, but as a vampire.
However, the moment they oppose the Emperor, the entire Empire…
The pro-Emperor factions will oppose the authority of the Church. As the conflict between ecclesiastical and royal authority intensifies, nobles who turn their backs on the Church will find ‘alternative’ options.
Corruption. Half of the Empire falls into the clutches of demons. And that’s not all. The paralysis of the Imperial Palace soon means the paralysis of half the eastern continent. Trade will cease, the economy will freeze, and famine and war will run rampant.
Sometimes, a tumor is a lifelong curse. But sometimes, a doctor is needed to finally remove that tumor. To announce the end to the patient and cut out the doomed part. Closer to a mortician than a doctor.
“Can you handle it?”
“If it is the Lord’s will.”
“His Holiness the Pope has asked us to wait.”
“His Holiness’s will is always right. But how can all shepherds always walk the right path?”
Beorn hesitated as he unfolded the last page of the report. He couldn’t bring himself to sign the final sentence.
Not all shepherds can walk the right path. Sometimes, some shepherds must tread thorny paths for their flock, while others must shine alone, separated from their herd.
Zephis’s proposal could also be seen in that light. His request was as follows:
“I have entrusted my role to Brother Fabiano.”
A veiled request for excommunication. A monk cannot perform sacraments against the Pope’s will. He would leave the monastic life and return to the secular world to fulfill his duty.
“That brother will do well.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“If this operation succeeds, we can restore the Church’s authority and resume the monastery’s sacraments. If sacrifices are needed, and if the Lord wills it. Lord, I will gladly do so.”
“Brother.”
“It is said there is no salvation outside the Church. What will become of the lambs in the dark night?”
With those words, Zephis looked at Beorn with a smile. Beorn quietly closed his eyes and continued the refrain.
“We, who have prayed to the Lord to become the world’s lighthouse, will walk ahead as shepherds with swords against the wolves.”
“Thank you for everything.”
“May the Lord guide your path.”
“As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be.”
The two monks quietly made the sign of the cross. Zephis put down the report, turned his back, and left. Creak, thud. The rusty hinge made a dry sound.
In the now-empty abbot’s room, the old monk whispered quietly.
“He takes the brightest among us first. To make them stars in the heavens.”
* * *
On the outskirts of Bülrang City. The Federation of Nobles’ legion had set up camp. The city had already lost its function as a city. Bülrang had been reduced to an outpost, and all actions taken by the Federation’s warriors were approved under the guise of ‘maintaining order.’
The Chieftain did not order the plunder of Bülrang. They secured supplies from the city and nearby territories under the term ‘requisition,’ and the movement of goods and people was strictly monitored by the Federation’s army.
Duke Sephor’s representative, Jean Reman, was detained by the Chieftain. Bülrang had effectively been absorbed into the Beastman Nobility’s territory.
And through that strict surveillance network, a man was walking.
“Who goes there!”
The Beastman guards at the gate, holding their spears at an angle, shouted roughly. The eastern road, unlike all other directions, led to the capital, and those coming from the trade route were subject to harsher scrutiny.
And what kind of mad traveler would wander alone in the dead of night? The man approaching the gate had no lantern or torch.
Like a shadow writhing, the man went unnoticed until he stepped into the light of the gatehouse. For the Beastmen, who had keen night vision, it was a chilling sight.
And those eyes. The gloomy blue eyes glowing in the dark shadow stirred the Beastmen’s instincts.
“Halt! Identify yourself and disarm!”
“Step aside.”
“What?”
The man stepped out of the shadow and stood before the gatehouse. The guards could now see his face. A young man with black hair. And, at this point, a young man known to all Beastmen.
The Chieftain’s right hand. The demon who charges ahead in every battle, achieving the greatest feats. Rumors say he crushed an army of a hundred thousand with just three hundred cavalry. A legendary man.
“Fernin… Lord!”
“Yes. I’ve returned. Step aside.”
“Damn it, blood! Are you injured? You there! Call the medic!”
“A medic? Just bring me a drink.”
Fernandez waved his hand dismissively and walked on. His iconic greatswords gleamed under the torchlight. The guards momentarily froze in awe.
He looked like a warrior straight out of a painting. The Beastmen bowed their heads in reverence and made way.
-Idiots.
Faijashi chuckled. Fernandez walked without a smile and took the bottle of liquor handed to him by a Beastman, opening it and drinking it in one go.
Of course, Diemonica’s liver doesn’t get drunk on alcohol. So this was all an act. Fernandez understood the Beastmen’s nature better than any human.
Beastmen are fascinated by ‘rough men’ and ‘bad men.’ They are almost instinctively drawn to ‘the strong.’ When Fernandez emptied the bottle in one go and threw it away, the soldiers’ gazes turned almost reverent.
The blood flowing from his abdomen was clearly no minor injury. His armor was completely crushed, revealing the wounded flesh beneath. Yet, the man walked steadily, without a stumble, and downed the liquor. To the Beastmen, he was the very embodiment of a ‘lion’s heart.’
Fernandez walked on, his lips bitter from the cheap liquor.
When there’s a lack of justification, an idol is needed. And Kirhas needed even greater authority. For that, even this clown act was worth it. If he, known as the Chieftain’s closest confidant, gained the Beastmen’s support, it would directly benefit Kirhas.
Fernandez was skilled at creating heroes. And that applied to himself as well.
![[TS] Obsessed Gamer: The Ultimate Return](https://i3.wp.com/novelhitam.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/TS-Obsessed-Gamer-The-Ultimate-Return2.png?resize=85,105 "[TS] Obsessed Gamer: The Ultimate Return")
