The weather was clear in the far west of Wales, in a place known as Brock County.
There stood a grand cathedral constructed of gleaming white marble and adorned with radiant gold embellishments.
Its soaring spire pointed straight to the heavens, symbolizing steadfast faith and purity.
Sunlight bathed the cathedral's spire, causing the golden trim to glitter so brightly it was blinding. Stained glass windows in a myriad of colors caught the sunlight and scattered it into kaleidoscopic patterns across the cathedral's interior, transforming it into a dreamlike realm.
Through the windows of the great cathedral, one could see the city radiating outward from its base, basked in the evening sun. Only the cathedral remained fully illuminated, as if untouched by the dying light of day, still aglow with resplendent brilliance.
As night gradually fell, within the grand hall of the cathedral, the Cardinal of the Holy Church in Britannia sat alone at the head of the feast table. He wore a crimson robe of intricate design and a golden mitre upon his head. His face, though aged, exuded both benevolence and solemnity. With silver cutlery in hand, he dined with elegance, savoring every bite of the sumptuous spread before him.
The entire hall had been prepared solely for him—he was its sole occupant.
As the Cardinal slowly enjoyed food that could feed the entire village of Blackmore for a year, the door was suddenly opened by a priest.
The Cardinal did not lift his head. He merely frowned slightly, continuing to eat with his weathered fingers wrapped around his utensils.
"My lord, we lost contact with the church in Blackmore several hours ago…"
"Oh. I see."
The Cardinal gave a nonchalant grunt in response, delicately lifting a slice of roasted meat and placing it in his mouth. He closed his eyes, savoring the flavor and expert preparation, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips.
"The priest in Blackmore abandoned his post. You will go in his stead. Bring him back. He is to be punished."
Dabbing his mouth, the Cardinal rose and moved toward a door at the rear of the hall. His frame was hunched, and he walked slowly, supported by an exquisitely carved cane—each step deliberate yet steady.
"Remember—those people in Blackmore have committed grave sins. But they must not all die. At least one must live. It doesn't matter how—so long as they cling to life. Understood?"
"Yes, I understand."
The Cardinal's calm voice entered the ears of the reporting priest, who could only bow his head and nod solemnly.
Soon, the Cardinal disappeared through the grand door.
The priest knew what lay beyond: the Church's sanctum of fantasy-species research. There, many corpses of mythical beings—dead for years—were stored…
And as for whether they had been lured there under false pretenses to be slaughtered, no one in the Britannian Church found the act questionable. After all, it was for the sake of humanity. And besides, those things weren't really human. So what did it matter?
Upon entering the chamber, the first thing the Cardinal saw was an imposing altar, atop which lay finely crafted ritual instruments. The walls were covered in a massive fresco depicting saints of the Christian faith, rendered so vividly it was as if they were recounting the story of belief itself.
Tall pillars lined the room, supporting the ceiling. Each was carved with intricate motifs that matched the room's overall grandeur. The ceiling itself bore a majestic mural of heaven, evoking a sense of endless peace and tranquility.
However—
The room was also filled with vats—each containing corpses of various fantasy species.
From time to time, a humanoid figure would dissolve into foam and vanish, only to be replaced moments later by another corpse of identical size and classification, floating to the surface of the central basin.
"That nightmare… has it been dealt with?"
The Cardinal's steady voice echoed from the room's center.
"Reporting to Your Eminence, yes. Its mana has been fully extracted, and its flesh has been severed using stabilizing magic. It's already been fed to the beasts."
"And the woman?"
"She was burned to death."
"Hmm. Good."
Why would a Cardinal, who oversaw the killing or imprisonment of countless fantasy beings, bother to ask about a single case?
The answer was simple: he had heard that a human and a creature of fantasy had produced a child.
That, to him, was unacceptable. In his eyes, it was no different from humans who consorted with Dead Apostles—no longer human, merely heretics cloaked in human skin.
"What a pity. I didn't manage to learn who that mongrel was. Creatures like that should be killed early, before they taint the purity of our blood—"
Before the Cardinal could finish, he felt it—a presence approaching, imbued with unmistakable rage.
Though old, the Cardinal had once been a powerful Executor appointed by the Pope himself.
Here in Britannia, he possessed a unique ability: to sense emotions through magical auras.
The magic of Church members typically carried the serenity of prayer. At worst, some bore a trace of sorrow.
But rage? That was rare. Was it a Dead Apostle? Or a fantasy species? To so boldly approach the Church?
How presumptuous.
Just as he pondered this, he felt something strange. A peculiar magical aura was emerging… not from a person, but from the cathedral itself.
Little by little, it awakened—welcoming someone's arrival.
The Church, a lifeless structure, now pulsed with devout mana… as if it had gained a will of its own.
"You all carry on. I'll go see who it is."
Though puzzled, the Cardinal reassured his subordinates and walked swiftly out to investigate.
Outside the Church gates, magical light began to pulse through the reliefs etched into the door—likely one of the enchantments installed during the cathedral's original construction.
But now, a century later, who would dare trespass here and risk the Church's wrath? Be it Dead Apostles, magi, or fantasy creatures—all had been ruthlessly purged by the Church.
"…Oh?"
From the highest step, the Cardinal looked down in surprise at the silver-haired figure wielding both sword and spear.
In front of this young man, figures gathered—hundreds of Church knights and Executors had formed a wall before the gate.
Each bore masterfully crafted weaponry, staring warily at the approaching intruder: Avia.
"What business do you have here?" the lead knight barked.
Avia said nothing. His expression didn't change in the slightest.
His eyes—blue like glass—reflected the people before him and the Church itself with chilling detachment.
Then, raising both his sword and spear, he spoke:
"…To kill."
The declaration, spoken plainly, carried a crushing gravity.
The Cardinal nearly burst into laughter. Did this fool not realize where he was?
This was the Church's main stronghold in Britannia. Even a True Ancestor wouldn't dare act so brazenly here.
After all, the corpse of the Sixteenth Ancestor still hung atop the mountain.
Yet—
In the mere ten seconds the Cardinal took to scoff and turn away, everything changed.
To the Church knights and Executors, the silver-haired youth seemed like a warrior of myth.
In just one second, he had slain dozens with terrifying speed. Cutting through their formation like wind through silk, Avia advanced—battle, to him, was absolute domination.
His magic surged with golden brilliance, overwhelming even the Church's own radiance.
And so, in just ten seconds, the hundred-strong defense force was reduced to corpses.
Realizing the danger, the Cardinal quickly raised a magical barrier to block the blood-soaked spear hurtling toward his throat—
BOOM!
The resulting magical clash engulfed the entire cathedral in light.
Avia leapt back, staring coldly at the figure who had intervened—a purple-haired Dead Apostle wielding a Black Key to protect the Cardinal.
"Surely, good sir, there's been a misunderstanding. I can explain on behalf of the Church. Please, end this needless slaughter."
"…Oh? That Black Key of yours... So it was you who killed that raven, wasn't it?"
Avia asked abruptly.
"Yes. I did. But if I may speak—"
"You've disappointed me, Sword Monk Be'ze."
***************************
Read advanced chapters ahead of everyone else on my P@treon.
P@treon/GodDragcell