Chapter 400: Hellfire (12)

“These people... are the true sinners.”

The resounding declaration echoed across the vast black sea of mud. After a brief silence, countless faces within the mud sea twisted in offended fury.

The old woman, trembling all over, pointed her deformed, skeletal fingers at Muen, her voice shaking with rage and shock.

“Nonsense... nonsense! What sinners? My people have lived within this Kanteville for a thousand years, isolated from the world—what crime could we have possibly committed?”

“Yes, a thousand years of isolation. You all look like harmless little lambs, like the whole world owes you something.”

Finally, Muen deigned to look at the old woman directly, his expression mocking. “But, if you truly didn’t know what kind of thing you’ve been worshiping from beginning to end, then I suppose you’d have a point.”

The old woman’s face changed slightly, but she quickly composed herself, sneering coldly. “Who exactly are you? How dare you speak such slander before the Saintess herself? We were deceived, that’s all!”

“Deceived? What a convenient word.” Muen’s laugh was cold. “Do you really want me to rip away the last shred of your decency? Fine. It seems you’ve long since stopped needing it.”

He pulled out the diary he’d shown before and glanced at Liya. “Do you remember what it said at the beginning?”

“I remember.”

Liya nodded. She had translated the diary herself—every word, every detail remained crystal clear in her memory.

“‘By the Goddess above, we truly succeeded. We created a perfect world—a world without hunger or pain...’ I remember that was how it began, right?”

“Yes,” Liya said softly. “That line revealed a truth—Kanteville was created by these people’s own hands.”

Muen paused, then said, “If this place is a pasture, then they’re the ones who hammered in the fence posts themselves. They walked willingly into the pen.”

“Willingly... became the Evil God’s lambs?”

Liya’s eyes widened, disbelief written across her face.

“Nonsense... what does that prove?”

The old woman’s eyes darkened. Her furious roar burst out like a chorus of a million voices, deafening in its rage.

“I told you—we were deceived! We were deceived into creating Kanteville! We mistook that Evil God for... for...”

“Mistook for whom? The Life Goddess, perhaps?”

Muen opened the diary again. He couldn’t read the ancient, tadpole-like script, but in front of the old woman he flipped through it deliberately, pretending to read.

“Yes... you did call her ‘the Goddess,’ the Life Goddess. From beginning to end, your words overflowed with joy and devotion. But tell me—why, in all your praises, does the Goddess’s sacred name, Aimier, never appear?

“In the standard rites, you should recite Her true name, shouldn’t you?

“You can’t claim ignorance. Even in the age of the First Saintess, Aimier’s name had spread across the continent. The ones who built this nation—at least they knew!

“So why was it erased? Was it because you feared that if you called upon the so-called Life Goddess, the true Aimier might hear your prayers—and so you deliberately blotted out Her name?

“But why fear Aimier? Wasn’t She your Goddess? If you were truly deceived, wouldn’t you desperately wish for Her to hear you?”

Muen’s voice rose, sharp and furious by the end.

The old woman’s face turned deathly pale, ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) like brittle birch bark.

Even the mud sea grew still. Muen’s words became the only sound beneath the towering spire.

“And throughout the diary, the term ‘Goddess’ is repeated obsessively—so much it’s unnatural, almost to the point of madness. As if...”

“As if trying to convince themselves, hypnotizing themselves into believing a lie,” Liya murmured, a dazed look flickering in her eyes.

“Exactly. If you want a good comparison—like traitors desperately trying to prove the side they chose is the righteous one. Rather similar to Ailag’s delusions, wouldn’t you say?”

Muen reached out, patting Liya gently on the head. Liya shook her head, signaling that she was fine.

“Do you have anything else to say?”

His cold gaze cut like a blade, pressing down on the old woman once more.

After another heavy silence, the old woman’s expression of shock and anger faded. She seemed to shrink into a pitiful elder again, lowering her head in sorrow.

“You’re right,” she whispered. “We—or rather, those of us from the very beginning—knew that the one granting us power was an Evil God. As for that name... I cannot speak it now, or He will sense us. The name of the Life Goddess, too, was deliberately erased. Those... are the facts.”

“But...”

As Liya stared at her in shock, the old woman’s eyes welled with tears again. “But it was forced upon us!” she sobbed.

“Forced?” Muen raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. You don’t understand... a thousand years ago, during the chaos that swept the continent, it was horrible—unimaginable. We sought survival, nothing more. We had no choice but to borrow the Evil God’s power!”

“Wasn’t there still the Goddess?”

Liya suddenly interjected. “The Goddess Aimier!”

“The Goddess Aimier was indeed powerful,” the old woman said bitterly, “but She couldn’t save everyone.”

She gave Liya a pained glance, then knelt again, prostrating herself, sobbing so hard she could barely speak.

“We only wanted to live. Yes, I admit—we committed a grave sin. But it was only us, the first ones. Many here are innocent! I don’t care about myself anymore. Please, Sir Knight, Your Holiness Saintess, save the innocent children!”

Her voice trembled with tears.

By all appearances, she seemed like a once-great sinner who had repented at last, an old woman who found redemption at the end.

But this time, Liya pressed her lips together and said nothing.

“Innocent, huh?”

Muen gave a short, cold laugh. He crouched down, tilting his head as he studied the old woman’s tear-streaked face.

“Do you remember what I said earlier?”

“Earlier? Which part?”

“I said—you people are the true sinners.”

Muen wanted to spit in her face, but good manners stopped him. More importantly, he didn’t want to waste his saliva.

Straightening, he looked down upon the million souls within the mud sea and spoke like hammering nails into bone—each word clear and brutal:

“When I said ‘you people,’ I meant every one of you. All one million. Every last one of you—are sinners.”

“All... everyone?”

The old woman’s face went ashen. “Nonsense...”

“Shut up. I’m sick of that line.”

Muen’s tone was ice, but then a faint, cruel smile touched his lips as he leaned close to her ear and whispered:

“Do you remember those monsters outside—the ones fighting against the Goddess’s invasion?”

“What?”

The old woman blinked, startled by the sudden shift.

“Then do you remember the Prisoners?”

“...”

“And what about the Rabbit? The little girl who wanted to see the sun?”

“...”

“Why aren’t you speaking? Did you forget them... or are you just too scared to say it?”

“...”

The old woman began to tremble violently, her entire body shaking, her twisted limbs flailing as if to hide sins that could never be hidden.

“See? Those who disagreed with you became twisted monsters. Those who resisted became Prisoners, guarding your gates.

“And that little girl who only wanted to see the sun? You left her digging endlessly through the dark, her whole life spent chasing a hole that will never reach the sky.

“So tell me—when all the truly innocent ones are gone, who’s left?”

Muen straightened, disgust clear on his face.

“What’s left are those who, for their own selfishness, dragged an entire world into the abyss—who knew offering themselves to the Evil God would bring death and ruin to countless others, yet still indulged in that false paradise. That is betrayal of humanity itself.”

He raised his voice, his words like blades.

“And what’s funniest of all—you had two chances to repent. Two whole chances.

“The first was a thousand years ago, when the kindhearted First Saintess banished Kanteville and severed its connection to the Evil God. You had a millennium to atone. But you didn’t.

“The second was when the Goddess Aimier began invading this world with the Church’s help, a little over a decade ago. You could have abandoned the false happiness bought with your souls. But again—you didn’t.

“And now, tainted once more, sensing that Evil God’s approach, you panic. You pretend to be victims, begging for salvation, pitifully searching for a scapegoat.

“And that foolish scapegoat... was Liya.”

That, more than anything, was what enraged Muen the most.

...

“You all right?”

Muen turned to Liya with concern.

“I’m fine.”

Liya shook her head. “When you brought up the diary, a lot of things finally made sense. So... I wasn’t that shocked.”

“I just... don’t know what to do now.”

She hugged her shoulders. Her pale little face was full of confusion and helplessness.

A million innocent souls—she would have sacrificed herself without hesitation to save them.

But a million sinners?

“If you don’t know what to do,” Muen said softly, “then leave it to me.”

“Eh?”

“Look.”

He gently opened her clenched palm, revealing the now dazzling crystal within.

“See? It’s full. Once everything is over, you’ll be the Saintess.”

Liya stared blankly at the crystal, as if spellbound by its beauty.

Muen smiled faintly. “Get some rest. Leave the rest to me.”

“But...”

“Trust me.”

He pulled her into a brief embrace. “I’m your Knight, aren’t I?”

...

The warmth of his touch lingered as Liya watched Muen’s back. Her lips parted slightly, but in the end, she said nothing.

She should have believed in her Knight as always. But for some reason, this time, unease stirred in her chest.

...

“What... what are you doing?”

The old woman’s voice rose in panic as Muen walked slowly toward the center of the formation.

“You’re not going to destroy the array, are you? No—you can’t! If you do, if we’re all taken by the Evil God, the world... the entire world will fall into danger!”

The mud sea churned again, countless furious shouts echoing all around.

“This was how you tried to disgust Liya just now?” Muen asked calmly.

The old woman froze mid-scream, realizing that the man before her was nothing like the kindhearted girl.

“Fine,” Muen said suddenly. “Then I’ll save you.”

“Huh?”

The old woman blinked, stunned, thinking she’d misheard.

But Muen’s eyes were sincere. “As the Holy Knight serving the Saintess, isn’t that my duty?”

“R-really?”

Her face lit up with hope—only for it to vanish in the next instant.

Because she felt it—the man before her was weak, drained. There was no trace of Holy Light around him.

Then how could he possibly save them?

“Yes,” Muen said quietly. “I will save you. I will... grant you true salvation.”

And under the gaze of a million suffering souls, Muen stomped hard—

—and crimson fire that burned all things erupted, consuming everything in its path.