Ammunition was fully replenished.
Equipment was checked.
Although the investigation team members were all exhausted, thanks to the previous preparations, such a problem was trivial.
But still.
Even taking that into account, the investigation team was handling the horde of beasts far too easily.
If this had been before the start of this mission, there was no way they could have managed this.
"Dmitri! Behind you!"
"Hah! This is nothing!"
Was it because they had fought together through battlefields of life and death?
Or was it simply because they had enough supplies, giving them room to breathe?
Kalakin and the four members of the investigation team moved as if they were a single entity, taking on the monstrous beasts.
[Kraaaaah!]
[Kieeek!]
The sweat droplets forming on Kalakin's forehead were carried away by the passing wind.
At the same time, the heat from the bullets flying out instantly evaporated that refreshing breeze.
"Hildegard, what's the situation?"
"The most dangerous targets have almost all been taken care of. Now, the only real threat is… move!"
At that moment, a massive forepaw came crashing down toward where Kalakin and Hildegard had just been standing.
Boom!
A Grade-6 Named Beast: The Devouring Beala.
As a Grade-6 monster, it was a massive, bear-like creature with thick hide, far too formidable for the firepower the investigation team currently possessed.
"Dmitri! Is the plasma sword ready?"
"It's ready, but there's a malfunction. It won't last long."
"That's enough."
With just that short exchange, Dmitri tossed the R-1 Plasma Sword toward Kalakin without hesitation.
"Iris!"
Now, just calling Iris' name was enough—she already knew what she had to do.
[Bind?]
[Bind. Bind. Bind. Bind. Bind. Bind. Bind. Bind. Bind. Bind. Bind. Bind. Bind. Bind. Bind. Bind…]
[Got it—]
The ether swirling around Iris rapidly coalesced into a lasso, wrapping tightly around the Devouring Beala's legs.
[Grrrrrooooaaahhh!!!]
Of course, at Iris' current level, she couldn't restrain a Grade-6 Named Beast for long.
But for Kalakin, that was more than enough.
Bzzzzt—
The R-1 Plasma Sword, received from Dmitri, ignited with blue flames.
And then, a smooth, flowing arc was drawn.
For Kalakin, that was all it took.
Slice—
[Guuuuaaaaghhh—!!!]
The plasma sword burned through the beast's body so cleanly that no blood was even spilled.
It simply couldn't stay alive with its torso cut in half.
After swiftly taking down the Grade-6 Named Beast, Kalakin immediately sheathed the plasma sword and pulled out his Ark-15 automatic conversion rifle.
This wasn't a duel.
This was war.
Taking down one beast didn't mean there were no more enemies to kill.
Click—
Before he knew it, the investigation team members had gathered beside him, each armed with an Ark-15.
There was no need for commands.
They swiftly reformed their formation on their own.
Dmitri grinned fiercely.
"...This is easier than I thought."
"Don't get cocky. It's not over yet."
"Tch, acting all high and mighty."
But even Kalakin couldn't deny that this battle was going smoother than expected.
At the same time, a thought crossed his mind.
'Did Carl Marcus predict this and step away on purpose?'
Was this his way of telling them?
"You've become strong."
No… maybe that was overthinking it.
'…The more I try to understand him, the less I do.'
Even if it was Carl Marcus, how could he have known the investigation team would manage this well and left in advance?
At this point, the image of Carl Marcus in Kalakin's head had morphed into some monstrous figure with four arms and ten eyes.
'I'll think about that later…'
For now, all that remained was annihilation.
Starting with Kalakin, the investigation team members pulled their triggers without hesitation.
Ratatatatatatatatat—!
With the muzzle flashes lighting up the battlefield, the beasts and monsters fell, screaming.
[Kieeeek!]
[Gak! Gakakak!]
Slowly, the battle was reaching its conclusion.
* * *
At first, he thought it was nothing unusual.
Just another day of denying heretical doctrines and guiding unbelievers onto the right path.
In fact, he even had doubts.
'This many of us, just to capture a handful of unbelievers? What was the bishop thinking…?'
Of course, he knew that the heretic who attacked their branch was no ordinary unbeliever.
But in his mind, that victory had been nothing more than a fluke—made possible only by the use of agents and apostles sent by the Great Will.
That person wasn't a true threat to the Church.
At least, that's what he had believed.
Until now.
'What… is this?'
Tyr, a priest of the Church of Morte, simply couldn't comprehend what was happening before his eyes.
Swoooosh—!
Splurt! Splurt!
Bony tendrils shot out in all directions.
Along with them came a horrific wail.
"Apostles…?"
"Curse the unbeliever!"
These weren't ordinary followers.
They were elite believers, blessed by the Serpent's Grace.
And yet, they weren't even managing to put up a decent resistance—merely getting skewered by the piercing bone tendrils, turning into lifeless husks.
"Ah… ahhh… Great Will, why do you test us so…?"
Squelch—!
The tendrils, imbued with the power of an apostle, didn't just pierce the believers—they drained them dry.
If they had only been stabbed, the followers blessed by the Serpent's Grace might have risen again.
But they were already dried-out husks.
There was no coming back from that.
"H-How… how could this…"
And it wasn't just that.
Bullets, blades, even heavy artillery—none of it was having any effect on the unbeliever standing before him.
Boom—!
BANG BANG BANG!
Sure, the explosions from the heavy weaponry made the enemy pause for a moment.
But that was all.
Explosions should have had a limit to what bone could withstand—yet this wretched unbeliever remained completely unscathed.
"This… this can't be happening."
Tyr, the priest of the Church of Morte, blessed by the Cloud's Grace, was utterly shaken.
He knew there were some unbelievers in Ark who wielded the power of apostles.
But this one—this "Pawn" standing before him—was different.
A heretic, using the power of an apostle with such mastery…
He had never even heard of such a thing.
'At this rate, it's as if…'
As if this heretic was no different from a true apostle sent by the Great Will itself.
"Ah… ahhh… How weak and wretched my faith must be."
But then, Priest Tyr shook his head.
Just now, he realized the truth.
'The Great Will is merely testing me.'
"Unbeliever, I understand now. You are the trial sent by the Great Will itself."
The lips hidden behind the mask curled into a sneer.
"What a load of crap, you lunatic."
"It doesn't matter if you deny it. This, too, is a trial. As a priest of the Church of Morte, I will face it head-on."
Tzzzzt—! Tzzzzzt—!
Sparks crackled in both of Priest Tyr's hands.
Alongside the Serpent's Blessing, he now activated his second gift—the Cloud's Blessing.
"Come now… Show me. Show me this trial that is you!"
* * *
·····What the hell are they saying?
["I already knew, but they really are out of their minds."]
Even Esther, a ghost by profession, was astounded by their fanaticism.
'Tell me about it.'
I had always known they were crazy, but today, they seemed even more unhinged. The Church of Morte was living up to its reputation.
"Come forth!"
Of course, regardless of their madness, the power held by the priests of the Church of Morte was real.
'Electricity… Is it the Cloud's Blessing?'
If I had a weapon crafted from a Thunderstruck Branch in my hands right now, things might have been different. But as it stood, this opponent was nothing short of a nightmare.
The nature of electricity made it impossible to block carelessly, and its offensive power was immense.
'For now, evasion takes priority.'
Bzzt—
A brief, flickering spark.
But the effect was overwhelming.
KRRRRRRR—!!!
The spot where I had just been standing was now scorched black.
Had I not dodged in time, even if I had used Janus to mitigate the impact, I would have still suffered significant damage.
'Tsk.'
If there was any silver lining, it was that a bishop hadn't shown up. But even among the priests, this one was a particularly troublesome opponent.
That said, difficulty aside, a priest was still human—bullets would go through them just fine.
Bzzt—
A crimson flash burst forth from my fingertips, the BLT-47 plasma launcher unleashing its deadly light toward the priest.
KWA-KAKAKAKAK—!!
The priest managed to evade with agile movements, but in the end, one of their arms was severed.
Despite losing a limb, the priest of the Church of Morte neither screamed nor showed any signs of distress. As if nothing had happened, they simply extended their remaining arm.
'Damn it.'
A fleeting moment.
In that brief window, a violent spark lashed out, striking the BLT-47 plasma launcher in my hands.
Bzzt…
'Tsk.'
The weapon was fragile enough as it was, and exposure to that high-voltage current caused it to instantly short out, emitting smoke.
Of course, it had an auto-repair function, so it wasn't a major concern. The problem was that I couldn't use the BLT-47 right now.
'And that's not all.'
The Serpent's Blessing, symbolizing regeneration, was the most common and fundamental blessing within the Church of Morte. But that also meant it was one of the most powerful.
There was a reason they were mockingly called "Morte-roaches."
True to that reputation, an unsettling writhing motion was beginning at the severed stump of the priest's arm.
A sign that the burn on the wound was already healing.
'Given enough time, even the severed arm would regenerate.'
Not that I had any intention of letting that happen.
'Esther.'
["…You're not seriously expecting me to stop that, are you? Even I have my limits…"]
True enough, even for an ethereal being, defending against electricity was no simple task.
However, Esther was different.
'Just once is enough.'
["…You're serious?"]
'Yeah.'
["Ugh… Might as well die than whine about it. Fine, let's do it."]
With the Ark-15 automatic conversion rifle gripped in my hands, I mercilessly pulled the trigger toward the priest.
The A-985 explosive rounds struck true, detonating on impact. But even as the priest's body was charred and blackened, they continued their attack without hesitation.
Tzzzt, Tzzzzzt!!
The unpredictable nature of their electric assaults prevented me from attacking freely.
Every time I tried to aim, lightning would erupt or crash down right where I stood.
'…Seriously troublesome.'
Most of my attacks didn't work, while theirs were nothing short of lethal.
With cheats like these, it was no wonder the Church of Morte was so widely despised.
'Then again, who am I to talk?'
Technically speaking, the battle was already tipping in my favor.
The priest was accumulating wounds and burns that were becoming harder to heal, whereas their attacks had yet to land a proper hit on me.
'Janus's overwhelming defense, plus multiple traits focused on protection and regeneration…'
At that moment—
Tzzzt—!
A spark flared, signaling the imminent strike of a lightning bolt aimed at my location.
'Esther!'
["Just this once. Anything more is beyond me."]
A burst of ether intercepted the lightning overhead.
And I didn't waste the opening.
'Now.'
Click—
The trigger was pulled.
BANG—!
The bullet from the Ark-15 automatic conversion rifle shot forward, piercing straight through the priest's forehead.