Surviving without God Chapter 188

“The remains of Ellen Beyra rest within the lands of our estate.”

At Krest’s words, Gunther instinctively shook his head. It made no sense.

Just a few days ago, ◇ had made it unmistakably clear: Ellen Beyra was in Pendrox. That was exactly why he had been so fired up—he had planned to rescue Dominic along the way, save her as well, and at the sa ti tear the veil off the mysteries surrounding his own identity.

And now... remains?

“...Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”

However, Krest was still fully under the effects of the will-suppressing spell. In that state, he could not lie. Feeling an inexplicable contradiction in the facts, Gunther continued the interrogation in a low voice.

“Tell everything you know about her.”

After a short silence ca an answer far more shocking than anything he could have imagined.

“It happened around fifty years ago. When my grandfather was the head of House Royen, a woman nad Ellen Beyra ca to our lands, calling herself a prophetess. At first, everyone took her for a fraud. But she predicted several events that ca true with astonishing precision and helped our clan rise once more. It was only thanks to her that the declining House Royen was able to return to the Round Table Council, and that the rule of law took root in Valloren.”

Gunther did not rush him. He already had a bad feeling about what would co next.

“...And then?”

“The problem arose on the day she was preparing to leave in order to help other families. My father, wishing to possess her prophecies exclusively, killed her. That fact is recorded in the secret chronicles accessible only to the heads of our house.”

Krest finished speaking with an absent expression. Chaos reigned inside Gunther’s mind, but amid it one hypothesis took distinct shape.

“...So Ellen Beyra isn’t just one person.”

Perhaps it was a group of people, or a na passed down from generation to generation. There was no other way to explain it. After all, there had also been another prophetess who, around thirty years ago, founded the Society of Forgotten Books in Border City and resisted Luthien. The friend of Mayor Mikhela and comrade of the old sniper—that very woman who disappeared after saying the Tablet had been shattered.

[Alphonse of Red Street reports that the spell’s effect is nearing its end]

Gunther did not hesitate. Before the charm could fade, he quickly extracted the remaining critical information: the exact burial place of Ellen Beyra, the nas of the other traitors within the kingdom, and their future plans.

He obtained the coordinates for the first. As for the second... unfortunately, apart from minor pawns, nothing substantial could be learned. At that exact mont, the spell wore off.

“H-ha... ha...”

Krest breathed heavily and looked up at Gunther with тревога in his eyes.

“...What now? You got everything you wanted. Are you going to kill ?”

Powerlessness and fear mixed in his gaze. Before Gunther could respond, Krest hurriedly spoke again.

“Every citizen of Valloren... has the right to a lawful trial proportionate to the severity of their cri.”

“...And? You want to hand you over to justice?”

“I completely fail to understand why you’re looking at with such hatred,” Krest protested, as though he were the victim of injustice. “I haven’t yet committed any overt act of treason. Are you going to kill for nothing? Are these the thods of those who call themselves defenders of justice in Border City?”

Gunther frowned at the brazen sophistry, but at that mont the silence of the underground prison was broken by a sound.

Knock-knock.

A quiet, cautious tapping at the door. Both Gunther and Krest froze. Gunther whispered:

“Don’t even think about moving. Otherwise your head and body will be sent to court as two separate pieces of evidence.”

“...I... I understand.”

Holding his breath, Gunther slowly approached the entrance to the room hidden behind the chanism. Then a familiar voice ca from beyond the door.

“Gunther, it’s .”

“......?”

“Please open it.”

Thanks to , controlling the hidden passage was a matter of seconds for Gunther.

Grrr-r-r-r.

With a low grinding sound, the stone statue turned, and in the torchlight a girl appeared. She was in pajamas and had her arms wrapped around herself as if warding off the cold. The light trembled across her blue-black hair.

“...Rietta? How did you know I was here?”

“Well, how should I explain this...”

Rietta answered with a soft sigh.

“For a mont, I felt a very familiar power.”

Gunther rembered that Krest had used a fragnt of Resia’s power when he sent the guards away. It had only been the tiniest spark, but for soone who had once been a vessel of a god, it had been unmistakable.

Rustle.

Rietta walked right up to Krest.

“A traitor to the kingdom... deceived by the Cult of Repose.”

At those words, Krest’s face turned even paler than it had when he first faced Gunther. Most likely, the fragnt of Resia tied to him was reacting with intense revulsion. In shock, Krest muttered:

“You... who are you, for ‘Her’ to react to you like this?..”

“Resia... she’s reacting while looking at ?”

“It’s only a tiny part of her, but... yes.”

A bitter smile touched Rietta’s lips. mories flashed through her mind of the days when she had revered that god more than anything in the world, believing it to be a benevolent deity that would save everything.

“......”

Gunther, watching the scene, also sank into strange emotions. In the previous iteration of the world, this girl had secretly infiltrated the Barkel estate with Krest’s support.

Back then, she had activated the mass brainwashing and swallowed this place whole.

But now they stood on opposite sides of the barricade.

“You’re planning to kill him, right?”

“I have to.”

After a long sigh, Rietta asked carefully:

“Could you... not?”

Gunther looked at her in surprise. Rietta clenched her fists, as if trying to show soone the firmness of her resolve.

“The power of Resia wrapped around him... it’s been inside him for a very long ti. So long it’s hard to even imagine.”

Gunther frowned.

“That requires an explanation.”

“He doesn’t realize it himself, but... it ans not everything he did was the result of his own will.”

At those words, Krest’s face twisted with anger and humiliation.

“What nonsense... I wanted to reform Valloren of my own free will!..”

“Yes,” Rietta cut in calmly. “This country is sick, chivalry is outdated trash, and Luthien’s thods are more efficient and more correct... Thoughts like that were probably planted in you while you were growing up. It sounds like the kind of conclusion a person could arrive at on their own, doesn’t it?” She shrugged. “But in your case, it was a plan.”

Rietta stared directly into Krest’s eyes.

“You believe you ca to these conclusions yourself. But did you never feel how your path had been cleared for you since childhood, how soone was guiding you by the hand? Did you ever wonder why it was so easy for you to co into contact with Resia’s power?”

This was the thod of the Cult of Repose. Krest was struck speechless by the realization of the truth: from the very beginning, he had been chosen and raised as a Trojan horse ant to destroy Valloren from within. Even Gunther had not known this. Only Rietta, extraordinarily sensitive to Resia’s power, had been able to notice.

Turning away from Krest, she spoke to Gunther.

“He’s no different from us, the ones who were locked inside Audrey House. He believes he’s making his own choices, but his whole life he was raised as a tool for his master’s needs.”

“You’re suggesting we give him a chance?”

“After spending ti in prison, he’ll sober up. And then his true nature will reveal itself. The kind of life he lives after that, and the end he eventually ets... that will finally be his own choice.”

With those words, Rietta looked at Krest—or rather, through him, at sothing standing behind his back.

“I... I learned how horrible it is to defile soone’s will, to steal it and rewrite it from scratch,” she said, her voice quiet but firm. “That’s why I’ll do everything I can to make sure sothing like this never happens again. Because a person has the right not to depend on anything, and to walk toward what they themselves believe is right.”

Gunther silently looked at Rietta, then let out a quiet laugh. A conversation from the past ca back to him, one that now felt infinitely distant.

“What is chivalry?”

“Well... it’s sothing good.”

“Then I’ll be a knight too.”

Well, if that was how it was, there was nothing to be done. Rietta had grown into a worthy person and had made more than convincing argunts.

“You got lucky, /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ Krest.”

Gunther grabbed Krest by the scruff of the neck like a kitten and headed for the exit of the dungeon.

“We’re going to court.”

***

There was more than enough evidence. While tracking Krest, Gunther had recorded every one of his actions that night on magical devices: from using Resia’s power to neutralize the guards to attempting to steal the Barkel family treasure, the “Soul Summoning Sphere.”

All of it was irrefutable proof. The aftermath of this case would no doubt plunge Valloren into chaos for a ti, since the noble mask of House Royen had been torn away. But this result was more like purification—the lancing of an old abscess.

[The influence of “Night Raven” in the Kingdom of Valloren grows]

[Reputation: “Justice” spreads widely]

Strangely enough, Gunther’s decision not to kill Krest on the spot but to proceed according to the law won people’s approval. It beca a diplomatic signal that the organization respected the kingdom’s customs. Besides, taking justice into his own hands against a high-ranking noble would only have complicated everything.

“I really am smart, aren’t I?”

Just as Rietta had said, it was an extrely rational choice.

[Main Scenario Act 2 Chapter 1 “The First Step” progress has increased]

[Support gained in the Kingdom of Valloren: 33%]

[The activities of “Night Raven” in Valloren beco significantly easier]

[Characters from Valloren now regard “Night Raven” more favorably]

Thanks to these achievents, Gunther succeeded in winning the deep goodwill of family head Kylis Barkel... enough to bring up the matter of borrowing the “Soul Summoning Sphere.”

“Hm, you say this is a sacred item of the deity with whom you ford a contract?” Kylis nodded. “To be honest, we ourselves never knew how to use it, so it simply sat unused.”

The “Soul Summoning Sphere” was an unbelievably powerful artifact. Even just being stored, it reacted to excess power, causing “Phantom Knights” to occasionally appear from the remains of ancestors within the estate.

“However... our ancestors’ will stated that it was a priceless item and had to be handled with the utmost care, so we simply preserved it,” Kylis finished with a good-natured smile. “But I am certain even the ancestors would gladly lend it to the one who prevented a schism in the kingdom.”

“...Thank you. I’ll return it as soon as possible.”

With that, matters at the Barkel estate were concluded. Now two objectives remained within the kingdom.

“Ellen Beyra and... the Holy Sword.”

It was obvious that the Holy Sword would play a key role in further increasing Valloren’s support. However, Gunther decided to head to Ellen Beyra’s grave first. He felt he could no longer postpone unraveling the mysteries surrounding himself.

The Tablet. The thing that had decisively distorted the flow of history he rembered, and reality itself. Who had created it? Who was Ellen Beyra, and why had she possessed it? Why had the Tablet shattered into pieces thirty years ago, and how had he himself been able to interfere with the past through it?

Questions he had once never even hoped to answer. And now, at last, the key to that mystery was in his hands.

“Well then...”

Gunther looked at his companions, already prepared for the journey. Seril, Servan, and Kylis had co out to the city gates to see them off.

“We’ll et again.”

He planned to et Seril and Servan once more in the capital—they had business there as well, and that was when Gunther intended to return the sphere. Observing knightly etiquette, Kylis bowed his head.

“May the knight’s sword never break before the very end of the road.”

A traditional Valloren farewell.

Gunther gave a short nod and spurred his horse forward, heading toward the endless snowy plains. He still did not know what awaited them ahead, but... at the very least, he definitely liked the ending of the story at the Barkel estate.

“Hyah!”

As the horse raced through the snow, in the cold wind blowing at their backs, a relieved smile flickered across Rietta’s face.