A piercing screech echoed through the air, loud enough to hurt my ears.
Was this an intruder alert? Between this and the metal plates blocking secret passages, sneaking into places in this world was an absolute nightmare.
While I clamped my hands over my ears, Cruello cast an invisibility spell over both of us.
Before long, the enemy’s stronghold fully revealed itself.
“No one seems to be nearby.”
“Looks that way. If someone was here, they would’ve heard—Wait, Cruello, your spell’s wearing off!”
The shapes that should have been hidden became fully visible.
At my words, Cruello glanced down at his own hands.
His eyelashes lowered and rose with a slow blink.
“Huh. Looks like they’ve placed a barrier against this type of magic.”
As if testing it, his mana flickered into various forms—electric sparks crackled, droplets of water condensed mid-air, and a faint breeze stirred.
“Offensive magic still works. Seems like only external teleportation is allowed.”
“Like what we saw in Whistle?”
“Something similar. The amount of money it takes to construct a space like this is no joke.”
“Be specific.”
“You could buy an entire empire.”
This sect is filthy rich.
Pebula is broke.
Overwhelmed by the sudden wave of injustice, I made a decision.
We need wealth redistribution. If I see anything valuable, I’m taking it.
“With stealth magic sealed, we’ll need disguises first.”
“Ah, clothing, of course.”
…Hmm. Not that I was doubting him, but…
I pulled my robe tightly around me and took a step away from Cruello.
He let out an amused scoff, loud enough to stir the air.
“I’m not taking yours. If I wore that, it’d turn into a summer outfit.”
“You’re not exactly the type to pull off a revealing look. We need to find something else.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m quite confident in my physique.”
“Then go find yourself a low-cut shirt!”
Beyond the door was a space far larger than I had imagined.
Past an arched corridor, we stepped into an open rectangular hall, big enough to house a small village.
The ceiling was adorned with countless magic stones, twinkling like stars, and the polished floor was smooth enough to reflect our faces.
In the center stood rows of long benches, like those used for prayer, while the far wall was filled with dazzling stained glass in every imaginable color.
On either side, doors branched out like the wings of a temple.
If not for the black color scheme instead of white, this place could easily be mistaken for a grand cathedral—perhaps even grander than the main temple.
“So the empire’s worth wasn’t an exaggeration.”
I muttered in disbelief before quickly covering my mouth.
No one was in sight, but getting caught before Cruello finished blending in was not an option.
Tap, tap.
Someone nudged my shoulder.
Startled, I turned my head sharply—
And was met with the sight of a tall man dressed in a black priest’s robe and a hooded cloak, wearing a goat mask.
…Huh?
“A gazelle pretending to be a goat is illegal, you know.”
“You’re not even surprised.”
Pretending to be disappointed, Cruello handed me a mask as well.
“With your height? That’s practically your ID. Who are you trying to fool?”
I pulled down my hood and put on the mask.
It was a full recreation of a goat’s face, with an elongated snout that made breathing easier.
Better than a lion mask, at least.
“Where did you find this?”
“There’s a dressing room right next door.”
“A dressing room? Then I didn’t even need to bring this robe?”
“They didn’t have any tokens. Ah, shame about the low-cut shirt. Should I tear the middle open for you?”
“Tattered priest robes aren’t attractive.”
“Darling has very specific tastes.”
Attractive? Priest robes? Please. To me, they were nothing more than glorified pajamas.
With our disguises ready, we started moving.
Despite the vastness of the space, there weren’t many people.
Most wore masks covering their faces and showed little interest in one another.
Of course, that didn’t mean these were the only members of the sect.
If it were, they’d have collapsed long ago.
They probably only gathered here at certain times.
That worked in our favor—it made sneaking around easier.
We wandered naturally through the interior, blending in.
For a while, nothing stood out.
Then, one particular door caught my eye.
It was noticeably larger than the others, and more importantly, there was a guard stationed in front of it.
Granted, he was nodding off, but still—
‘This is it.’
There had to be something important inside.
Exchanging a glance with Cruello, I casually strolled past the guard.
At that moment, a thin thread of mana extended from Cruello’s fingertips, coiling around the man.
"Haaahm…"
A long yawn—
And then, he slumped against the door and slid down, unconscious.
After checking that no one was paying attention, I reached for the doorknob.
Rattle.
Locked.
But before I could even frown, my gaze landed on the guard’s waist.
‘A key!’
I quickly unhooked it from his belt, shoved it into the lock, and was rewarded with a satisfying click.
Rushing inside, I pulled Cruello in behind me, who casually lifted the unconscious guard as he entered.
Thud.
The door shut behind us.
Only then did I exhale and lean back against it.
“Whew. This is fun.”
“…Fun?”
“I think we found the right place.”
The room was unmistakably an office of authority.
The furniture was top-tier, even at a glance, and the bookshelves were packed with books and documents.
An old portrait hung on the wall, depicting a striking man with long silver hair.
He didn’t seem to be the owner of this room. Was he someone high-ranking in the church?
I stared at the painting, lost in thought, before snapping out of it and shaking my head.
Now wasn’t the time for this.
Turning around, I saw that Cruello had already laid the man down on the sofa.
Seeing that, I strode over to the display cabinet and pulled out the strongest-looking liquor I could find.
"Are you trying to disguise it?"
"It’d be suspicious if he just suddenly fell asleep."
Considering how drowsy he had looked earlier, he wasn’t exactly the most diligent person. He might just fall for it.
I poured the liquor around the unconscious man’s mouth and let some spill onto the carpet.
Now he looked like a man who had drunk himself unconscious.
And the rest… well, I took a sip myself.
"Mm─!"
"Ugh."
Why was it so bitter?
It looked expensive, so I tried it out of curiosity, but I regretted it instantly.
"…Do you even know what that is before drinking it?"
"I was just curious. Ugh."
"Do you like alcohol?"
"It tastes awful. Don’t drink it."
"I won’t even bother saying I never planned to."
He had already said it.
I shot a glare at Cruello, who, without a word, moved to stand in front of the display cabinet as if guarding it.
I had no intention of drinking more anyway.
I turned my head with a sharp flick and started my search in earnest.
The first place I checked was the desk.
I opened every drawer, but all I found were meaningless documents.
Disappointed, I reached for the last drawer.
Clatter.
"Oh-ho."
It was locked.
There was no visible keyhole.
Either it had a special mechanism or it was magically sealed.
Luckily, I had just the thing for this.
"Cruello!"
Just as I turned to call him for help, I noticed he was reading something.
It looked like a record pulled from the bookshelf, and his expression was unusually serious.
He gestured for me to come closer.
"Cruello? Did you find something important?"
"Hmm. It’d be better if you saw it yourself."
It was a collection of parchment pages bound together.
The cover read Elinia G—likely a person’s name.
It wasn’t as ancient as the Old Divine Language, but it was still old enough that only a dedicated scholar would be able to read it. Had Cruello studied archaic texts?
Tilting my head, I asked, "Do you know what this is before calling me over?"
"I called you over because I couldn’t understand it."
"You looked like you were reading it just now…?"
"There wasn’t a single word I recognized. Can you read it for me?"
Unbelievable.
Regardless, if it came from the office of a high-ranking official, it had to be valuable.
Flipping open the cover, I began reading.
"Experimental Records on the Resurrection of the Dead."
It was exactly the kind of title one would expect from the Black Serpent Order.
The beginning wasn’t much—just endless complaints about failures.
["X Month, X Day. Another failure. Is it truly impossible to bring back the dead? Is death an untouchable realm beyond human reach?"]
Why were magicians so insistent on questioning the obvious?
I clicked my tongue, but as I read further, I hesitated.
["X Month, X Day. A breakthrough…?"
"The answer lies within the human soul. The soul departs the body immediately after death. Attempting resurrection without the most vital component was a mistake. Retrieving the soul must be the first priority."]
["X Month, X Day.
I received many volunteers from the faithful. By using Beatitudo, I successfully extracted souls from the living. However, a side effect occurred—when only a portion of the soul was taken, parts of the subject’s memories were lost. Was it due to the shock?"]
["X Month, X Day.
I divided the volunteers into two groups, conducting separate experiments on the living and the dead."]
["X Month, X Day.
The experiment on the living produced unexpected results. The moment the resurrection circle was activated, the soul fragment returned to its owner and merged back with their original soul. What will happen when tested on the dead?"]
["X Month, X Day.
I killed a subject whose soul fragment had been extracted and attempted resurrection. It failed. For a brief moment, the fragment reacted, but it soon disintegrated into dust. A fragment alone cannot sustain an entire body’s life force."]
["X Month, X Day.
I will use Beatitudo to reinforce the fragments. In theory, three times the currently controllable amount is required. I cannot guarantee success, but if the path exists, I must follow it."]
After that, the records returned to listing failed attempts.
And then, the final entry.
["X Month, X Day.
I have concluded that more than three grams of Beatitudo is beyond human control. To conquer death, we must await His arrival. The experiments end here. Whether He shall come or whether a successor will continue this work, we must wait."]
"What happens if you consume Beatitudo?"
Elinia G.
With that, the author’s signature marked the end of the record.