Surviving without God Chapter 168

The eyes of the platoon mbers and the rescue team were all fixed on the screen at once.

What unfolded there was sothing that stubbornly refused to submit to logic, which, to be fair, had beco a recurring hobby in this world.

There were three figures on the screen.

Gunther, Resia, and...

“...What is that... is that supposed to be ?” Cheonmae muttered in visible shock.

The silhouette she was seeing was clearly imitating her.

An archer in armor, with an enormous bow strapped across their back.

Most likely, it was one of Barkel’s knights who had been brainwashed.

Fwoooosh—!

The whistle of air being split ca sharply through the transmission.

The drugged archer, bizarrely enough, drew the string and aid directly at Resia.

A perfect shot, packed densely with mana.

And yet...

Clang!

Standing so distance away, Gunther flashed forward like lightning, cutting in front of the arrow before it could reach Resia.

With a single motion, “Line of Despair” knocked the projectile aside.

Resia stared intently at Gunther, but soon, as if losing interest, she shook her head.

“Again.”

Gunther returned to his position, and the archer nocked another arrow.

Clang!

“Again.”

The sa scene.

The sa angle.

The sa result.

Silence fell over the tent, brought on by this strange repetition.

Tilting her head to the side, Blanc asked cautiously,

“W-what... what the hell are they doing?”

The answer did not co imdiately.

No one could decipher Resia’s intentions at a glance.

They could only watch with blank, baffled expressions as “that day” repeated itself.

Tarsha muttered quietly,

“Hm, maybe it’s reinforcent for the brainwashing? By forcing him to keep protecting her, she’s making the ntal control even stronger.”

“Feels like he’s already completely under her control even without that.”

Just as theories began to pile up...

“Ah...!”

Resia suddenly clutched her head and staggered.

As if sothing invisible were crushing her brain.

Gunther and the “archer” froze at the exact sa mont.

Barely holding back the pain and dragging in ragged breaths, Resia forced out a low whisper:

“...Teacher?”

Her gaze was unmistakably fixed on Gunther.

But it lasted only an instant.

Soon Resia stood still with a vacant expression, as if she herself did not understand what she had just said.

She shook her head several tis and let out a heavy breath.

“That’s enough.”

A short sentence.

Resia imdiately dismissed the archer and returned with Gunther to the inner castle.

The platoon mbers watching this sank into even deeper confusion.

“What teacher?”

“Has she lost her mind?”

“...Nothing but riddles.”

At that mont, Dimona, who had been sitting with her eyes closed until now, spoke.

“The important thing is that we’ve confird Mr. Gunther is safe. Now let’s figure out the situation inside the castle and the condition of the guards.”

Whatever else it ant—

The fact that the specialized stealth drone had successfully penetrated the inner castle was already an enormous achievent.

Hummmmmm—

Under everyone’s expectant gaze, the drone silently slipped through one of the castle’s open windows.

Quiet corridors and tightly shut room doors.

Dimona spoke in a low voice.

“For now... let’s check the prison.”

***

Gunther t the kindly smile directed at him.

By reflex, he wanted to smile back... but that was not easy.

A feeling of nausea was slowly rising from inside.

“You... have helped us greatly.”

“I’m glad to hear that, if so.”

Masiu set down his teacup and continued in his characteristically gentle tone:

“We all have great expectations for you, Mr. ‘Guide,’ since you volunteered.”

From this short exchange, Gunther managed to extract more information than he had expected.

The greatest gain was that he was finally able to precisely determine the true nature of the “Month of Repose,” which until now he had only vaguely guessed at.

“...A Child of the Month of Repose, then.”

Gunther’s gaze shifted to the corner of the room.

To where the “outcast” stood, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

A girl of about ten with chestnut hair. The mont their eyes t, she hurriedly looked away and shrank in on herself... only to start sneaking timid glances at him again.

The children of the Month of Repose.

They were chosen from among the “vessels” who had failed to beco Hierarchs.

Of course, not every failed candidate ended up on this path.

In cases like Kate Bellamor, they might be kept within the cult’s structure and assigned other roles.

But children who lacked faith, or in whom flaws were found, were a different matter.

They beca “children of the Month of Repose,” and at the end of that period they were offered as sacrifices to a god.

This was how the cult reclaid the vast resources and energy spent on creating a vessel.

“...Of °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° course, it isn’t only about efficiency.”

Gunther recalled the “abnormal attachnt” the children had shown toward Masiu earlier.

There was clearly an elent of control here.

The authority to choose the child for the Month of Repose rested in Masiu’s hands.

The structure was designed so that the opinions of “Audrey” and the teachers, including the “Guide,” were taken into account.

To survive, the children were forced to desperately seek the teachers’ attention...

And above all, Masiu’s affection.

“Even after becoming Hierarchs... their psychology probably wouldn’t change much.”

A truly cruel system.

Hierarchs were not those chosen by a god.

They were beings arbitrarily created by the Archbishop because it was too difficult for him to manage the power he had received in exchange for mass sacrifice.

Because they were unstable and full of variables, places like Audrey House had been created for systematic brainwashing and control.

“So much effort just to leash unsuspecting children.”

At that mont.

Fortunately, just as it was becoming difficult for Gunther to control his expression, Masiu rose from his seat.

“Well then... my schedule is quite full, so I’ll be going.”

“Ah, yes.”

“I’ll be counting on you in the future. Teacher Raymond.”

A hand was extended.

As Gunther shook it, he felt a faint shock run through him.

Because the na that until now had sounded like muffled static finally reached his ears clearly.

“Raymond?”

Naturally, it was the first ti he had heard that surna.

But that was not what unsettled him.

“I thought I entered this illusion as Gunther?”

Only then did the strange sense of mismatch begin to slowly wrap itself around his body.

In the nearly untouched teacup, full to the brim, his reflection stared back at him.

Black hair, black eyes.

A young priest with a cold expression.

This was different from Bellamor.

Back then, he had been inserted as a completely new character, Guntra. This ti, he had been layered over an already existing identity.

But there was no ti to dwell on that difference.

Masiu, as the senior authority here, had already headed for the exit.

Gunther imdiately stood and followed him into the corridor.

“Then please take good care of the child until the end of the Month of Repose.”

Leaving that final instruction behind, Masiu disappeared around the corner.

Only he and the girl remained in the hallway.

A thin little voice ca from behind him.

“T-teacher. What should I do now?”

Gunther couldn’t answer imdiately as he looked at her freckled little face.

...The Guide was the one who, at the end of the Month of Repose, had to personally take the child’s life and offer them as a sacrifice to the god.

And despite that, the girl standing before him looked, strangely enough, happy.

The reason was obvious.

The long “process of repose.”

It was said that the ritual was far more stable when the victim did not resist, but instead entered a state of acceptance.

For that purpose, a system of complete isolation had been devised.

That is, the status of “outcast.”

For a girl surviving in that nightmarish loneliness, the appearance of the Guide, the only being she was allowed to speak with, was equivalent to salvation.

Even if on a subconscious level she understood this was the relationship between butcher and livestock.

The child looked up at him with shining eyes.

The mockery of the Evil Gods echoed in his ears.

[Look at that, a grateful sacrifice. What a stupid animal]

[A beast that kneels on its own stays docile even when they draw blood]

“...Bastards.”

Gunther fought down the urge to imdiately scoop up this miserable little girl and vault over the orphanage fence.

But that would be suicide.

This was an illusion of the past.

There was no structure here that allowed him to change things the way he had in Marie’s case.

Because she was not the subject of this illusion.

So now was not the ti to give in to emotion.

First of all... he needed information.

“What’s your na?”

“Y-Yuria.”

“Good, Yuria. Can you head to the dormitory for now? Your teacher will co see you later.”

“W-when will you co... Ah, sorry. Sorry! I didn’t an to rush you..!”

Yuria reflexively asked, then frightened herself and hurriedly bowed her head.

Grinding his teeth, Gunther forced his voice to stay as gentle as possible.

“It’s alright, nothing’s wrong. I only arrived today, and I need to sort so things out. I’ll co as quickly as I can.”

Children were frighteningly quick at sensing whether the person before them genuinely liked them.

Yuria’s shoulders relaxed a little.

“...Okay.”

Unable to hide her regret, Yuria walked away, glancing back several tis.

Suppressing a heavy sigh, Gunther imdiately fixed his expression again.

There was no way of knowing who might be watching, or from where.

From the looks of it, the role of Guide here was extrely important.

In any case, the priority was clear.

He needed to contact the other teachers and figure out who this “Raymond” he had inhabited actually was.

Only then could he preserve his “ntal life count.”

Rustle—

Just as he was walking through the empty corridor...

Soone suddenly grabbed his arm.

Gunther reflexively tried to resist.

“...What?”

But he was crushed by overwhelming force.

A feeling of pure helplessness he had not experienced in a very long ti.

Bang!

He was literally dragged into a room.

Before he could recover, a bright voice rang in his ears:

“Ah, this. Sorry. I’m in a hurry. I won’t get another chance.”

Boom—

Gunther’s heart skipped a beat.

He had definitely heard this voice before.

It sounded slightly younger... but it was the sa voice he had always heard through his headset while sitting in front of his old computer...

“Dear god.”

Gunther slowly turned his head.

Golden hair that seed to have absorbed sunlight itself.

Azure eyes that perfectly captured the color of the sea.

An old wooden sword hung from his waist.

eting his gaze, Dominic Wolf gave an awkward nod.

“Uh... I should introduce myself first, right? Hello. I’m Dominic Wolf.”

For so reason, Dominic’s gaze held an inexplicable sympathy and expectation.

Honestly, Gunther was in complete confusion.

The protagonist of this illusionary space was supposed to be Resia.

So he had expected the story to revolve around her.

And he had assud Yuria was connected to her sohow.

For example, Yuria might have been Resia’s best friend, later turned into a sacrifice for the Month of Repose.

Sothing like that.

He had expected that through this process, he would shake Resia’s emotions, distort her relationship with Masiu, and create an anomaly in the real world.

And then.

Suddenly, Dominic.

Even so, despite the mountain of questions, Gunther cald down instantly.

Or rather, he pretended to.

Right now, he was “Teacher.”

Forcing his face still, Gunther said,

“So, Dominic Wolf. What exactly is the aning of this behavior?”

But Dominic, not the least bit flustered, continued:

“It’s . About the letter.”

...Words whose aning was completely impossible to guess.

The mont Gunther frowned, unable to grasp what he ant...

Dominic stepped decisively forward.

“You said you’d help with the escape. Since you ca here... can I take that to an the promise... is still good?”