### Chapter 185: Grayscale (Part Ten)
The sharp voice of Archbishop Ansiel echoed across the ridge, prompting the nearby clergy to peek over at the commotion. Some had just become embroiled in a scuffle with the townsfolk, while others were preparing to head down the mountain to clean up the gory mess of dismembered corpses. Upon hearing the words, “Why would you do this? Don’t you have the slightest bit of awareness?”, their steps faltered instinctively, and they turned to look back.
Within their eyes lingered a mixture of doubt and anguish.
It felt as though those words were aimed not just at the one cleric in trouble but were a collective inquiry directed at everyone present.
Of course, they were aware.
Otherwise, they wouldn’t be here.
As elite members of the Faith Organization, they were among the cream of the crop from nearly a million clerics in the Holy Church. On the very first day of joining, they underwent a solemn ceremony personally conducted by the Pope, pledging to dedicate their lives and souls to the Church. Everyone standing here had knelt before the divine cross—a symbol of love and redemption—and made an unwavering vow to the great deities.
[“I devote my life and soul to the Church, willing to sacrifice myself for the supreme truth, to become the saint the world needs, never betraying, forsaking, or straying from my path, forever loyal to the Church, without regret.”]
Such a vow was already engraved in their hearts.
That’s why they stood here today.
They were here because they adhered to their past promises and had an unwavering faith supporting them, even if it meant sacrificing their dignity and shame as holy men to aim their Holy Lances at innocent civilians. They believed that the supreme truth would always stand by them, alongside the Church.
They were the most devout followers of the Holy Church.
Today, their actions were poised to help humanity take a historically significant leap forward.
They were ready to pay any price and endure any pain for this purpose.
They had that awareness.
But even so, when they witnessed the divine phenomenon of the civilians being torn apart and falling into pools of bl**d, and once they realized they were the ones who had inflicted this horror, despite their best efforts to repress the turmoil inside, they maintained a steadfast façade in front of their companions and Archbishop Ansiel. Yet, deep inside, struggles, guilt, pain, and doubt swirled like a tempest of negative emotions.
Everyone felt it.
Human hearts aren’t made of stone; nobody is born with a heart of iron. Some among them were still quite young. They had seen d*ath, of course, but if they were the ones responsible for it, the ones who had slaughtered defenseless, innocent civilians they were meant to protect…
No one wouldn’t feel anguish.
No one could escape from intense self-doubt.
They weren’t villains.
What they had done contradicted everyone’s will, even their original intentions—deep down, they were suffering.
They hurt and found themselves in a profound confusion, but it was their steadfast faith that drove them to keep moving forward.
They had awareness, and so did the young cleric facing the brunt of Archbisop Ansiel’s reprimands. That awareness, after the Archbishop’s stern lecture, burst forth like a dam that had given way, spilling out all those pent-up emotions, self-doubt, and denial.
In front of everyone, the young cleric’s face flushed crimson, his eyes glistening with tears as he choked out: “Archbishop, I am a devout follower of the Church. I hail from the Gust family in the Holy City, and my father is the regional bishop of the Abedoria Parish. Our family has served the great deities for ten generations! I once pledged at the holy cross, receiving baptism at the hands of the Pope! I am a member of the Faith Organization, and the awareness I carry in my heart is as noble as yours.”
Tears streamed down the young cleric’s face.
He gazed at Archbishop Ansiel’s aged, stern features and cried, “I understand why we must do this—I truly do! My best friend, my most trusted companion, was sent to investigate heretic activities. He is a man with a heart as devout as anyone here! He shares the same awareness as us! I entrusted him with the most critical task; the order was given last night! He’s been gone for three hours, and I haven’t heard back!”
His eyes were bloodshot, voice thick with emotion: “I know he has returned to the embrace of the deities. The damned heretics must have discovered him and killed him! They must have used that accursed gem to drain his bl**d! I… I’m not without awareness! I planned to go find out for myself… but I’m afraid I won’t be able to resist attacking them! I fear my terrible emotions will truly ruin everything…”
“Archbishop, my faith has never wavered! I’m not without awareness… I participated in killing those civilians. I didn’t lack that awareness—I just thought… maybe there was a better way… perhaps we could save them! Then, under the watchful gaze of the great deities, we could gloriously slay those wicked fiends and end this spreading disaster… Let no more lives be lost! I would gladly d*e if that’s what it took…”
The young cleric’s sobs were quiet, his words trailing off, but his heartfelt plea resonated with everyone. Many clerics looked at him, eyes misty, fists clenched unconsciously.
Archbishop Ansiel’s expression remained solemn.
After a long pause, he softened his gaze.
“Don’t be sad, child.”
The old man gently patted the young cleric’s shoulder, and he noticed the emotions of the other members of the Faith Organization around them. He knew these “youngsters” in his eyes were holding back a lot—it was clear their emotions were unstable. Yet, the situation allowed no time for hesitation.
So, old Ansiel thought for a moment and said, “Actually, before I came here, I met with the Pope.”
As he spoke, he turned to the group of clerics, raising his voice: “The Pope deeply appreciates your sacrifices, your determination. Our every step from now on will be under his watchful eye, and he has a message for you all.”
The old man paused.
“He wants you to know that reaching this point is something nobody desired. If it were possible, he wishes for no one to d*e—neither you nor those civilians—no one should be harmed. This has always been his hope, as well as the Holy Church’s aspiration for centuries: no disputes, no wars. May the Abyss and demons never reappear, and may humanity enjoy everlasting peace.”
“This is also what I hope for; I believe it is what each of you hopes for—to let all the children of the deities live in peace, free from the horrors of disaster and the demons’ onslaught. Let nothing like the Valen tragedy, or the events of the Royal City months ago, or what transpired last night in Stag Town… ever happen again.”
He watched the clerics, noticing their emotions seemed to stabilize a little, as the young cleric beside him stopped sobbing and started to absorb his words. Then, he pivoted his speech: “But… how can things in this world be so simple?”
The old man’s murky yet astute gaze swept over the gathered clergy before settling once again on the young cleric’s flushed face.
“From the invasion of foreign tribes to humanity’s counterstrike, from the Age of the Divine to the establishment of the Church, from north-south divides to the east-west confrontations, our civilization has existed for over a thousand years. Though the embers have not died, the flames of war have never ceased. This world doesn’t accommodate our desire for peace merely because we wish for it; strife is ever-present.”
“You are the elite of the Faith Organization, the backbone of the Holy Church’s resistance against wicked villains. Each of you is strong, but at the same time, you are also very young. You are devout believers willing to sacrifice honor and lives for your faith; I have no doubt about that. However, when you take off your clerical robes, you are merely ordinary people—ordinary fathers. And I am just an ordinary old man.”
“Our wishes, in this world, are always but dust in the wind, and our powers are limited. Even the Church’s might is finite. The things we desperately want to stop may not truly be stoppable; the disasters we aim to prevent will inevitably occur.”
Archbishop Ansiel took a deep breath at this juncture.
Looking at the listening clerics around him, he saw the flickering emotions in their eyes. That oppressive feeling intensified as his slow, clear words sank in.
“Not long ago, on the Mosley Coast, the Third and Sixth Knights Orders were utterly defeated, forced to retreat to the city of Atien. I did not participate in that battle, but I do know something of how brutal it was. You may have heard the news; I’ll confirm for you now, the Third Knights Order of the Holy Church has perished in that protracted engagement. Commander Nick Williams fell in battle, and the southern border of Silgaya was ravaged as a consequence, with countless villages and towns slaughtered—all of this happened in just one month.”
“During this month, the Pope has toiled day and night, coordinating with the Holy City, negotiating with the Republic, navigating through the internal strife of the Currency Exchange, issuing various directives and striving to do all he could. We all did our utmost, but the outcome you’ve witnessed is that the heretics still made their way here.”
The old man’s expression turned sorrowful: “They are like bloodthirsty demons, turning wherever they go into a wasteland, slaughtering everyone, draining their bl**d, consuming livestock, and even human flesh. They are a terrifying breed of demons who shouldn’t exist in this world. Yet, the wars of the Church and the Gate of Truth against them have persisted for hundreds of years, and we’ve never managed to wipe them out entirely.”
“The reason? They possess the power of Infernal Fire and the gift of immortality. That power allows them to rise again and again; over the centuries, countless people have succumbed to the seduction of demons, gaining new power from that dark source, day after day, year after year.”
“Such tragedies have played out countless times, with untold numbers of the deities’ children falling beneath the blades of those devils, becoming their sustenance.”
He paused again. “But this is not your fault.”
