novelraw Chapter 121 : For Whom the Bell Tolls (2)
Chapter 121 : For Whom the Bell Tolls (2)
Chapter 121: For Whom the Bell Tolls (2)
That dawn, inside the Flavia Cathedral of Dellowell.
Right below the altar of the main hall, a woman sat upright.
She held her head high and stared straight ahead.
There, the emblems of the Ribenian Orthodox Faith and the Dellowell Diocese were displayed side by side.
“……”
The woman was in prayer.
That those who were to be judged for this incident might yet be granted salvation.
That she herself would not hesitate, even for a moment, in her duty to bring that salvation to them.
That, as the result of all this, this rotten world might be drawn closer to God.
As she immersed herself in her fervent intercession, eyes wide open, a familiar voice reached her ears.
“Your prayer seems longer than usual today, Executor.”
Before she realized, Director Heinrich Peregrine of the Inquisition had approached her side.
Karen Rosefield replied curtly,
“I am casting off hesitation.”
She was dressed not in her usual full armor but in monastic robes.
“Hesitation… I didn’t think such emotion existed in you, Executor.”
“I am still but a feeble human before God.”
The change in attire altered her very presence.
Where once she radiated the madness of a warrior possessed by battle, now she moved with the pious composure of a devoted believer.
Karen slowly rose to her feet, her sharp gaze unwavering as she spoke.
“Please, speak.”
The keen light in her eyes remained unchanged.
“Straight to the point, as always…”
Seeing no reason to delay, Director Heinrich spoke in his usual stern tone.
“…The bell will toll a day earlier than planned, Executor.”
At that,
Karen’s head snapped to the side.
“You mean to sound the Bell of the Holy War at dawn on Thursday?”
Heinrich silently nodded.
Karen pondered for a while, then asked sharply,
“I don’t quite understand the reason for this.”
It was rare for her to question an order.
“It is the Archbishop’s command, Executor.”
Heinrich’s firm reply, however, did not persuade her.
“There must be a reason behind it.”
“…What else? It’s because of Duel.”
“You mean we must render Mallet incapable of recovery before the Duel Headquarters’ reinforcements arrive?”
“You understand well.”
“If that is the case, there is no need to rush. Even if the bell tolled at dawn on Friday, they would still collapse completely.”
“That would be true—if Mallet were our only opponent.”
The Director scratched his head, looking troubled.
“The problem lies with Karbenna and the Special Task Force. We need to crush Mallet as quickly as possible and move to subdue the remaining factions.”
“……”
“With new variables, our plan must naturally adapt to them, don’t you think, Executor?”
Heinrich knew full well that this predicament was partly his own doing.
Because Archbishop Dominico had so brazenly invoked Karbenna, their options had dwindled drastically.
But there was no undoing what had been set in motion.
Even if they had to employ underhanded means, maximizing their chances of victory was all that mattered.
And yet—
The Executor’s reaction was entirely different from what the Director expected.
“…Unusual of you to hesitate, Executor.”
Whether she agreed or not, Karen Rosefield was the sort to obey any command once it was given.
“You’re not… thinking of opposing the order, are you, Executor?”
To his surprise, Karen began speaking firmly, her tone resolute.
“…The Holy War is for us a glorious duty, a sacred struggle. The declaration of war was a promise we ourselves made.”
And now they were breaking it.
“To stab an enemy in the back while he stands defenseless—such acts belong to traitors. How could those entrusted with God’s name commit the deeds of apostates?”
She tilted her head slightly, unable to accept it.
“We who preach the teachings of God cannot adopt the ways of the unbelievers outside…”
Smack!
A blinding flash erupted before her eyes.
The Director, having struck her full-force across the face, glared at her with open fury.
“Who are you to lecture me, insolent woman?”
“……”
“This decision was made by the Archbishop, God’s representative on earth. It is not for the likes of you to question it, Karen Rosefield.”
“……”
“What? You think being called Executor and Messenger makes the world yours now?”
He jabbed her sharply in the collarbone, sneering with contempt.
“You’re a hound, Karen. You kill those God commands you to kill, and spare those He commands you to spare. You are the sharpest blade the Orthodox Church has forged.”
“……”
“Since when does a mere tool presume to speak its will? Hm?”
He leaned closer, his face twisting.
“Karen, don’t tell me—you wish to go back to the old days?”
Flinch.
For the first time, Karen’s expression wavered.
“That village was a living image of death—no one could survive, and no one should have. A true hell on earth.”
“……”
“Have you forgotten who pulled you out of that hell?”
The small mountain village that had worshipped a being other than God had been struck by divine wrath, turning into a scene of utter carnage.
The people devoured one another and offered their corpses to beasts.
Those who resisted had their limbs severed and thrown to wild dogs; those who obeyed went mad soon after.
At the center of that nightmare, she had stood—alone.
Those horrific memories she had sworn never to face again now rose mercilessly, gnawing away at her once steadfast body.
Watching her face go pale, Heinrich sneered faintly.
“You should’ve listened while I was being nice…”
The corner of his lips twitched in smug relief.
Tap. Tap.
He patted her cheek lightly, his voice a mix of warning and threat.
“If you have claws to bare, pull them out. Any doubts, complaints, or objections—erase them.”
You could do it.
For you were a seeker born from the grave of a martyr.
“Remember—everything is for the Orthodox Faith.”
“…I will keep that in mind.”
“Your unit’s deployment will proceed as planned. It wouldn’t look good for the Executor to intervene from the very beginning. You understand what I mean?”
“Yes. I’ll do as you say.”
Director Heinrich lightly patted Karen’s bowed head a couple of times.
“You’ve gained another sin to repent for. Take time for confession, Executor.”
“…I will.”
Her strong body wavered slightly.
Feeling a twisted pleasure at the sight, Heinrich strode away.
Chirp, chirp-chirp.
The morning birds sang sweetly in the distance.
Around 10 a.m. on Wednesday, two days before the scheduled date.
Before departing for Mallet, I visited the Chairwoman’s Office one last time.
There were reports to deliver—and I also wanted to see her once more before the war began.
Once the real clash started, even I would inevitably lose sight of the bigger picture.
As a player, I could once oversee entire factions while analyzing and fighting simultaneously—but that was no longer possible.
The same applied even after the war would end.
This man, Eugene Carter, was a broken character who could top the charts both as commander and warrior.
But public perception still leaned heavily toward the latter.
‘And, realistically, that’s the side I’ll likely be seen acting in.’
Still, I had to showcase my capability as a commander to the select few strong ones who mattered.
My foremost task now was their salvation—but I could not neglect preparing for the Apocalypse.
Especially the outdated, human-centric military systems—they needed to be overhauled fast.
If my strategies didn’t earn the support of powerful figures, the Empire might fail to form ranks properly when the great hordes of Beasts erupted.
Given this was a stage watched by all the Empire’s key forces, I had to demonstrate every ounce of my ability.
In any case, after this battle, the Empire’s future would shake violently.
At its center would, of course, be Bernhardt.
And Michel, the central figure of Bernhardt, would inevitably be caught in that vortex of change.
“Noon on Friday… is it?”
“Yes.”
Tap, tap-tap.
Michel rhythmically tapped the table as he asked,
“Isn’t that a bit too late of an arrival?”
“You think so?”
“I doubt they’ll quietly begin their assault at the scheduled time.”
A fair observation.
The Orthodox Church had long cloaked its endless persecutions beneath the banner of a holy war.
They had broken promises and forsaken ethics more times than one could count.
But that had only been when their enemies were truly evil—or severely weakened.
If they tried the same trick against the Mallet–Karbenna Alliance and failed to win—
The backlash would be unimaginable.
Still, since the one holding authority was Archbishop Dominico…
There was no harm in preparing in advance.
“Even so, moving it a day earlier would be the best course.”
If they had already accounted for the possibility of the Centre Agreement collapsing, then it wasn’t impossible they might strike much sooner than expected.
But they—Archbishop Dominico especially—had grown complacent.
He was blinded by his faith in his own superiority, and his arrogance in their enemies’ weakness.
Even worms squirm when stepped on—such was the law of the world.
After decades of near-dictatorial rule, Dominico had grown ever more arrogant.
To the point where he could no longer think rationally.
Though my actions and the current situation had no doubt influenced him,
It was his own blundering that allowed things to unravel this far.
“Enduring a full day with Mallet’s forces alone—that will be the key condition to not losing this war.”
At that, Michel’s gaze sharpened.
“…With Mallet’s forces alone, they’ll never be able to stop her.”
“Karen Rosefield won’t deploy early.”
“Your basis for that?”
Because I’ve seen it hundreds of times in-game—
—but of course, I couldn’t say that. So instead, I gave another reason.
“In any case, they’ve already broken the agreement. If they’re going to be condemned regardless, they’ll send out someone expendable to take the fall.”
The most likely candidate right now was Torquemada of Velut.
He would launch the invasion prematurely of his own accord, and the Church would strip him of his Apostolic title for his “sin.”
That way, most of the blame that should’ve gone to the Archbishop would be diverted.
“…Well, even if the Executor of Blood steps onto the field from the start, I’ll deal with her myself.”
“……”
“So don’t worry too much, Chairwoman.”
As I smiled confidently, she smiled too.
“I’m not worried. Because this is what you want.”
Instead, let me ask you one thing.
“…Don’t die, Carter.”
Her smile wavered with unease, but the resolve in her eyes shone clearer than anyone’s.
“I have no intention of fighting alone on a battlefield without you.”
At that heartfelt voice, which bordered on a confession, I rose silently instead of answering.
“…I’ll do my best.”
Then I walked out.
Her gaze followed me from behind, and I answered it with the sound of my steps.