Just how much effort would a Crowned need to spend to kill a fifth-rank warrior? This was a question whose answer did not require careful thought at all.
An instant. Only an instant.
Before that enormous gap in strength, any flashy tricks were useless. The difference in life level meant that when a Crowned faced anyone below that realm, it was pure, undisputed slaughter.
No matter what kind of genius you were, you could not cross that gulf. A thousand years of the continent’s history had proven all of this. The fools who dreamed of challenging that heavenly chasm all ultimately became dry bones filling the ravine.
Besides... genius?
Which person who could become a Crowned was not a genius?
And genius was nothing more than the threshold for glimpsing that realm.
To say nothing of the Witch of Repentance, an old-school Crowned who had become the Salvation Society’s Third Seat before even reaching a hundred years old... The physique of an Evil God scion had brought her not only troubles, but also terrifying talent that stood above all living beings.
And yet, precisely this famous Witch of Repentance, precisely this Third Seat of the Salvation Society who possessed completely crushing power, had actually chased down an ordinary, pure, fifth-rank warrior who did not even know magic beyond illumination spells three whole times... and failed every time.
It was simply... inconceivable. To the point that if word got out, ninety-nine percent of the entire continent would not believe it.
But it had happened.
“I already thought you were impressive.”
Even the priest was shocked. He leaned close to Muen’s ear and lowered his voice.
“I didn’t expect you to truly be this impressive. I had to pay the price of one leg just to escape from her.”
“Stay calm.”
Muen pressed his hand downward and said modestly:
“I merely have some slight attainments in the art of escape. A trivial achievement like escaping from a certain perverted old woman is nothing to be proud of.”
“...”
Killing intent suddenly rose.
The Witch of Repentance looked at Muen calmly, still expressionless, but lines of pitch-black cracks began spreading toward Muen from around her body...
Muen hurriedly hid behind the priest. The priest’s expression also became grave as he stood ready.
“Enough. A visitor is a guest. Since he has already come here, there is no need to be so rude.”
Unexpectedly, at this moment, Gaius suddenly raised his head and stopped the Witch of Repentance.
He looked at Muen with a gentle smile.
“We meet again.”
“Yes, we meet again.”
Muen met the eyes of this kindly old man with whom he had once crossed paths, showing no fear because of his identity. “But compared to meeting inside someone else’s soul, meeting face-to-face like this really does give a different feeling, Mr. Gaius.”
“Oh?”
Gaius asked curiously, “What feeling?”
“That is...”
The corners of Muen’s mouth pulled wide. “You look even more like a shameless, stinking old bastard.”
“...”
The smile on Gaius’s face stiffened slightly.
...So that was it.
No wonder this boy was so good at running.
With that ability to mock people, if he were a little weaker at escaping, he probably would not have lived until now.
“A sharp tongue cannot change anything.”
Faced with Muen’s point-blank mockery, Gaius did not truly grow angry. He waved his large sleeve freely and said:
“The existing ending will absolutely not change because of a few words from you. Or are you also here specifically to watch everything come to an end from this special seat?”
“Special seat?”
Muen subconsciously raised his head.
At this moment, that brilliant starry sky had almost replaced the original curtain of heaven. Muen saw those stars flickering, like the blinking eyes of beautiful women, exceedingly moving.
So moving they seemed ready to swallow a person’s soul whole.
Muen hurriedly collected his mind and lowered his gaze. And there, the one who held the highest authority among humanity, Hezekiah, Pope of the Church of Life, was currently holding his scepter with dignity, scattering endless sacred radiance to resist most of the Lord of the Stars’ erosion of this city.
But that was only temporary resistance. Because opposite him, the head of the most infamous terrorist organization and also the source of everything that had happened, Holy Lord of Salvation Gaius, stood calmly, ready to strike at any moment and break this fragile balance.
A terrifying presence no weaker than Hezekiah’s radiated from him, but it did not have Hezekiah’s mountainlike majesty... Instead, it was deep as the sea.
Below the two of them was the Witch of Repentance, Third Seat of the Salvation Society, and her daughter... Fubeka, that poor girl forced to accept the fate of an Evil God scion.
Fubeka trembled, confused as she looked around. She could not understand any of this. She could not even understand why Muen, that sinner, would also be here. She was confused by everything, except...
She quietly lifted her head and gazed toward the sky.
The stars above flickered and flickered. A sense of familiarity came from them, making her involuntarily want to draw closer to that starry sky.
That sense of familiarity was so intense, even far exceeding the mother beside her who shared the same blood.
But her father’s former voice echoed by her ear again:
Fubeka, don’t look... Never gaze at the starry sky. Never walk toward the starry sky. Never...
Mm. I won’t look.
Fubeka lowered her head and closed her eyes with all her strength.
“It looks like everything is already in place?”
Muen shifted his gaze away from Fubeka’s face and murmured in a low voice, then suddenly smiled again.
“So that’s how it is. With this lineup, this place really can be called a special seat... Unfortunately.”
Muen’s tone shifted. “I did not come here to sit in the special seat as a spectator.”
“Oh? Do you have another choice?”
Gaius was rather surprised.
He knew this boy was somewhat cunning, so as the dignified Holy Lord of Salvation, when faced with Muen’s seemingly sudden “madness,” he still paid deliberate attention.
No one else was intervening. There were no abnormalities.
This boy was the weakest person here. Leaving aside even that limping priest, he was not even as strong as Fubeka, the Evil God scion who was already awakening.
He seemed to have truly only come here. Nothing more.
From the corner of his eye, Gaius glanced at Hezekiah and discovered that he had no intention of continuing right now either. He was only watching quietly.
There was no movement on that side either.
“I cannot see any possibility of you making another choice,” Gaius said.
“Of course there is.”
Muen answered:
“Isn’t it simple? Since I don’t want to be a spectator, then I... only need to step onto the stage, don’t I?”
“Step onto the stage?” Gaius raised a brow.
“Yes. All this time, under your deliberate arrangements, I could only watch everything happen. Helpless. I even became a spectator in the circus performance, forced to cooperate with the magic onstage, directed as you pleased, manipulated as you pleased, and then made to help your magic reach perfect completion.”
Muen spoke each word clearly, and one image after another appeared in his mind.
Pero.
Tyron.
Bishop Kore.
The newspaper.
Banknotes.
The gangs.
The orphanage.
Everything had been like this. He had once worked so hard, but in reality, just like what Gaius had said when they met in the soul before—he, Muen Campbell, was only a spectator invited to this performance. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom
He could not change anything. He could not influence anything. He had even instead become an offstage factor in the other party’s performance, making this show even more brilliant and drawing endless applause.
The performance was splendid.
Truly splendid.
But...
“Obediently being a spectator is not my style, and I don’t particularly like this ending either. So...”
Muen raised his head and said with incomparable seriousness:
“I came to step onto this stage!”