(But when there are too many gold coins, what do they even know how to spend them on? Watching others suffer no longer satisfies them, so a god helped them turn that pile of money into one thing: Power.)
The city of purity, of white, Lebem was preparing to welcome the Winter Hunting Festival.
As every year, early in the morning, the Pope would arrive to deliver a sermon about faith to the people and bestow blessings of peace upon them.
Acrune was here as well, following his mother's words, attending the Pope's biblical sermon.
First came words of gratitude.
He offered his thanks to everyone present, to God, and to all things.
And to Acrune as well.
…
(When God handed those thieves what was called the scale, everything changed.)
Inside an old, decaying room, headless corpses lay scattered across the floor.
What they all shared was this: old or young, tall or small, every single body was naked.
"So… what is the point of telling me the story of this city?"
A fat man, his face concealed by darkness, whispered softly, as if he did not wish to provoke the being before him.
"Reality Unbidden. What more do you desire? I thought you came here to make money through terror."
"The Card… you really are ignorant, aren't you?"
The shadow sitting atop the pile of corpses raised its hands, fingers missing the ring finger, letting out a sound that resembled boredom more than anything else.
"This layer of reality is rejecting us. No matter how deeply we wish to descend, we cannot. My power… or yours… is being expelled by this place. That is why I told you the reason behind this city."
(The scale represents two things: money and people. The more money poured onto one side, the more fragile human lives become. And eventually, reality itself is placed upon the scale.)
Acrune ran madly through a sea of blood, terror clearly etched across his face as people around him went insane, slashing at one another with swords and knives.
"FOR THE WORD OF GOD!"
"FOR HIM!"
Acrune covered his ears tightly. His head throbbed harder and harder as those words echoed.
He picked up a sword he himself had polished to a shine, mounted Oxeiburt's horse, and charged straight toward the clock tower.
He forced the door open and climbed the staircase step by step. With every step, distant screams and wailing cries echoed around him.
"MONSTER!!"
"A MONSTER HAS APPEARED! KILL MORE, QUICKLY! ONLY THEN WILL GOD SAVE US!!"
His eyes began to tremble.
Was what Mother said… really true?
He remembered her words, spoken long ago, far in the past.
"Acrune, you must go somewhere. Somewhere very far away. Only then will you find your path. But never… never go to Be////L///E///M."
Acrune clutched his head, pain pounding like a hammer as ancient cries of anguish resurfaced.
…
(Because of this, all things suffered. Others began to lose their happiness, falling into sins that could never be undone.)
The Pope had accepted the temptation of a serpent. No, not a serpent.
A demon.
Lucifer.
God had died. He could no longer judge sin.
But Lucifer was dead as well.
Since when?
Since when did God abandon the world, allowing Lucifer—who was already dead—to defile all things?
The answer was: never.
…
(Humanity began to curse the one who tore out his own heart to gift them gold coins. They claimed that before his arrival, the world had been peaceful. They believed he was the source of all sin.)
Ogia, Acrune's mother, realized something.
The one who had impregnated her and driven her into despair was none other than demons from Hell.
And so, she cursed God.
She believed God was a lie, that He had done nothing for the world.
That He deceived everyone by always saying, "Believe in the impossible."
Because of this, she despised her son Acrune deeply, hating him for being a fragment of the demon that violated her.
And yet, she told him stories of miracles.
Miracles born from truth.
…
(But some people sought the sun that had given the world its heart, rising from the deepest abyss to find it. They searched not for salvation, but to punish the one who had abandoned the world.)
A total of four demons were summoned into this world.
All to await the resurrection of Lucifer.
The Heart Demon, bearer of Lucifer's will and desire.
The Earth Demon, used to command and forge demonic armies.
The Heaven Demon, meant to guide sinful souls.
And the Body Demon.
Acrune.
The only one who had yet to fully inherit a corrupted status.
The Heart Demon was meant to resurrect within Sophia Edwarn, but Oxeiburt forcibly transferred it into himself.
That was impossible by every measure.
But what if another demon was involved?
If the Heart Demon relied on a corrupted soul, then what would happen if two souls inhabited a single body?
The Heaven Demon only appeared when a soul accepted complete annihilation as a vessel.
And so the Heart Demon transferred from Sophia to Oxeiburt, a soul already twisted beyond recognition.
…
(When they reached the place where the sun had faded, all that remained were chains binding the one who once burned brightly, now reduced to a withered husk. All to keep that being alive.)
Even so, it was impossible—by all logic.
Oxeiburt, even while supporting Sophia's soul, would eventually die, and her soul would follow.
But then, a miracle occurred.
Oxeiburt drove something into his own forehead.
A nail.
Mind-Anchoring Nail.
A nail driven into his soul, protecting Sophia.
…
(The one who burned for humanity asked a single question. Why do humans still cry out in resentment?)
Acrune reached the top of the tower. He stretched one hand forward, trying to grasp the flame, while raising his sword with the other and striking downward.
On that day, the sky split apart.
One side was chaos born of sin.
The other, redemption of the soul.
(I gave humanity my very heart. Why do you still curse me?)
…
To awaken the Earth Demon, an enormous amount of flesh and blood was required—corpses turned into puppets.
Thus, it was inseparably linked to sacrifice.
And like all sacrifices, it required a center.
"Phelion, I hope you will become a meek lamb upon hearing God's words, just like me."
The Pope whispered to Phelion, who was bound by a massive tree, slowly merging with it.
"I'm sorry… but… someone once told me that God is dead…"
Gazing at the corpses filling the room, Phelion let out a silent sneer. But his sentence was never completed.
His throat could no longer function.
The Pope raised a glass of wine and drank.
All of it was to await a single thing.
Heaven.
A Heaven of wine and endless pleasure.
A place that stored two types of mana: Costume and Immersed.
…
(I will give humanity my final gift, but you must find it yourselves. Those were the words of the one who burned himself one last time for mankind.)
From despair, miracles are born.
As long as there is light, even the greatest darkness will be pushed back.
If you have the courage to grasp it and dispel the darkness within you, the gift I left behind will still be there.
(The gift he gave humanity was Love. Power and money were merely external benefits.
Humans chase the gains brought by wealth, believing power to be absolute.
But they forget that by walking that path, they slowly murder their own hearts.
The one who gave everything can never voice resentment. His greatest beauty is drowned in selfishness.
Humanity will never reach his gift without understanding his final commandment.)
That was what Phelion had carried for countless years.
And his Gift was used for the third time in his life.
Once, three thousand years ago.
Once, seventeen hundred years ago.
And now.
At the same moment, Dark Heaven appeared once more.
A/N
I wanted to split this chapter into two, but I decided against it. It was probably just instinct speaking.