#759

God’s will (10)

In the silence, as if the sound had been cut away.

A wave of humans, composed of paladins, brandished their weapons and charged toward the demon.

The ring of fire above the head of Burnt One spun rapidly and gleamed, burning the foremost paladin to ashes without leaving a trace.

Even so, the wave of paladins did not stop, filling the empty spots and rushing forward even faster.

The ring of fire gleamed once more. The foremost paladin was incinerated without a trace of ash.

The charge did not stop, and the next paladin immediately filled the gap.

[……]

Burnt One silently watched the scene and spun the ring of fire again.

The foremost paladin was once again burned to nothingness, and the following paladin filled the gap.

In this manner, the paladins sacrificed themselves one by one, gradually closing the distance to Burnt One.

Step by step, with their own will.

As the ring of fire's rotation speed increased, the number of paladins burned away also grew.

The sight resembled ice melting in boiling water.

As the number of paladins rapidly diminished, the wave of paladins visibly shrank.

Yet, they did not stop and continued forward, eventually reaching directly in front of Burnt One.

A paladin drew back their spear to strike.

The ring of fire spun, and the paladin was consumed by flames.

The next paladin raised their longsword overhead.

The ring of fire spun again, incinerating that paladin as well.

Shouting the name of their ashless comrade, the next paladin swung their mace.

The ring of fire spun, burning the paladin with the mace to ashes.

Finally, the last paladin used the bodies of their fallen comrades as shields and struck with their sword like a flash of light.

Just as the blade, swift as light, was about to reach the face of Burnt One, the ring of fire spun, burning the longsword and then the paladin themselves.

The efforts of the paladins, who risked their lives, ultimately failed to reach Burnt One, leaving nothing behind, not even ashes—

Boom────!!

A thunderous roar broke through the alien silence that had settled around them.

“Grrrrrrr...!!”

Bartholomew tore off the bandages wrapped around his body, returning to his original form as a sinner, and charged at Burnt One, colliding with them.

Using the paladins’ sacrifices as a cover.

The sacrifices of the paladins were not in vain. As proof, Bartholomew’s claw touched Burnt One’s flesh.

[You look grotesque, sinner.]

Burnt One commented as they observed Bartholomew, who had made contact with them.

As they said, Bartholomew's appearance was horrifying.

His skin seemed to be turned inside out, and his skeletal structure was twisted, closer to that of a beast—or rather, a monster—than a human.

[Still, it suits you perfectly.]

Despite Bartholomew’s beast-like claws digging into him, Burnt One calmly continued to speak.

[To those who used innocent people and children for their own gratification and pleasure under the guise of a petty status, I say this.]

Bartholomew’s claws sank deeper into Burnt One’s flesh.

However, it was Bartholomew who suffered.

Flames spread from where his claws had pierced, engulfing his entire body in fire.

“Arrgh...!!”

Bartholomew screamed.

Still, he did not retreat and continued to push against Burnt One, buying time for Oliver to escape.

Burnt One flicked his demonic tongue.

[Do you think you can find salvation by doing this?]

“...”

[Do you think your cursed descendants will be saved by this?]

“...”

[Let me assure you, no matter how hard you try—]

“—Shut up!! I already know!!!”

Bartholomew interrupted Burnt One’s words.

“I know better than anyone that my sins cannot be forgiven by mere words! Stopping you is nothing but an act of our will─!!”

[...Our?]

Burnt One’s response came a beat late.

Soon, he saw himself surrounded by those rushing at him: Marie and Joe, the corpse doll Bathory, Human-meat Chef Shamus, Durans, members of the Anti-Development Committee, the Chosen Ones, the Fighter Crew, the Kel Liberation Army, and police officers and soldiers of the kingdom.

***

Oliver lay motionless as if dead.

The faintest, barely perceptible breaths were the only sign that he was still alive.

Those around him looked down at him with expressions too complex to describe.

Fortunately, Oliver wasn’t unconscious, so he was aware of their presence, but sadly, he couldn’t perceive the emotions they felt.

Perhaps it was because his left eye had been burned away by Burnt One, while his right eye was crushed to a pulp.

Or perhaps it was because his entire body had been battered from head to toe.

Not only was his vision useless, but he also couldn’t fully grasp their emotions.

In the past, he could have understood just by looking, but now, he could barely sense their existence faintly.

And so, Oliver became aware of the paladins who were disappearing one by one in real-time.

They threw themselves into the flames, burning to nothingness one by one, like moths diving into fire.

Why?

Even if they couldn’t escape, why did they throw themselves at Burnt One?

“Ahhh...”

Oliver let out a beast-like groan as he tried to get up.

Crunch-!

But his left arm, which had supported his weight, broke, and he collapsed back onto the ground.

The broken arm and the back of his head, which slammed against the earth, sent waves of searing pain through his body.

Even in that moment, the paladins continued to burn away like straw in a wildfire.

In that moment of urgency, when his body refused to obey, Oliver inevitably allowed a forbidden thought to cross his mind.

‘This is comfortable...’

At this life-or-death moment, Oliver realized anew how comfortable it was to lie still as if he were in another world, doing nothing.

When had it started?

When had he learned that doing nothing was the easiest path?

Perhaps, it had been since his time at the orphanage.

The orphanage where his memories began and where he spent his childhood.

In that place, he learned nothing.

Not how to speak, not how to write—but he did learn one thing: how to survive.

Through the strict beatings of the orphanage director and the fists of the other orphans, who prioritized their own survival.

It was there that Oliver learned that doing nothing was the safest and most comfortable choice.

Whenever powerless Oliver tried to act, it only brought pain and hardship.

So he chose not to interact with anyone, to help no one.

Even when others lacked food or were bullied, he ignored it all. It wasn’t his business.

This approach carried over to the mines and persisted even after he was taken in by Joseph and joined the Joseph Family.

It was only after receiving help from Marie and giving her help in return that it began to change.

‘Did I really change?’

Oliver asked himself, then shook his head.

While he had received help, he had never truly given it.

He taught black magic to Marie and others in need and shared money, but it was nothing more than crumbs he had no use for, things that held no value to him.

When it came to responsibilities only he could bear, Oliver turned away and chose to run.

When the Red Man, burning with hatred, offered to take on that burden, Oliver gladly let him.

Even when it showed signs of bringing about the end of the world, he accepted it without hesitation.

Because it was easier that way.

Oliver questioned himself again.

What if...

What if he had taken responsibility from the beginning? Would things have turned out differently? Would Rosbane and Kent still be alive today?

“...”

No answer came.

Instead, more than half the paladins had burned away.

In a way, it was an excellent answer.

It meant that thinking such thoughts now was entirely meaningless.

No, it was even worse than meaningless.

Dwelling on those he couldn’t save in the past meant he was missing those he could help now.

Because of his own foolish complacency.

What Oliver needed to do now was think about those he could save in this moment and act.

“P-Please help me...”

Through his heat-dried lips, Oliver begged the people around him.

Help me stand.

No one answered.

Why?

Was it resentment?

That was entirely possible.

Even so, Oliver continued to plead for someone to help him stand.

Oliver wanted to get up on his own, but his body refused to obey.

No matter how much he commanded or begged, it would not move.

“So, please... Please just help me stand—”

Swish.

Someone responded by gently touching Oliver’s cheek.

A fragrant scent brushed past his nose, and a soft yet warm hand caressed his battered skin.

It felt familiar somehow.

“Joanna...?”

“Yes... It’s me...”

Joanna answered in a cracked voice, as if holding back her emotions.

With both of his eyes in such a ruined state, Oliver couldn’t see her face or feel her emotions clearly, but it somehow seemed like she was crying.

Tears dripped onto Oliver’s face.

Noticing her own tears, Joanna hurriedly wiped them away before helping Oliver up.

“I’ll help you stand.”

“Thank you...?”

Oliver’s words trailed off.

Joanna had indeed helped him stand, but the direction was wrong.

She was trying to take him away, in the opposite direction of Burnt One.

“Joanna, what are you doing?”

Oliver asked in a voice cracked and burnt from the heat.

“The paladins are dying as we speak.”

“They made that choice themselves.”

Joanna replied with an unnerving calmness, as if she already knew everything.

Oliver twisted his broken body, trying to free himself from Joanna’s grasp.

Fearing that she might harm him further, Joanna couldn’t hold him tightly and let him slip away.

Oliver fell back to the ground with a thud.

His body, ruined by Burnt One’s violence, could no longer stand without help from others.

Joanna cried out desperately.

“Please live!”

Drip. Drip. 

The sound of her tears hitting the ground echoed.

Joanna knelt beside him, holding onto Oliver as she pleaded.

“Please, I beg you... Just live.”

“...”

“You’ve done enough! You’ve sacrificed enough already!!”

Her tear-soaked voice trembled.

Though Oliver couldn’t see her emotions clearly, he could tell Joanna’s words were sincere.

[Still, it suits you perfectly.]

From behind them, Burnt One’s voice echoed, accompanied by Bartholomew’s growls.

The paladins had all burned away, and now it was Bartholomew who clung to Burnt One’s ankle.

For Oliver’s sake.

[Do you think you can find salvation by doing this?]

[Do you think your cursed descendants will be saved by this?]

[Let me assure you, no matter how hard you try—]

“—Shut up!! I already know!!”

The sinner, who had once used their royal status to sacrifice innocent lives for their desires, shouted.

“I know better than anyone that my sins cannot be forgiven by mere words!!”

The foolish one, who had realized their sins after seeing their twisted body and the cursed offspring born from it, screamed.

Then Marie, Joe, and countless others charged at Burnt One.

Most of them burned away.

Bartholomew, who had stood directly in Burnt One's path, was torn apart by the sharp flames.

Lives were vanishing like dry leaves in a fire.

“They all agreed! They’re doing this of their own will!! To save you...!”

“I am a prince. The king of hell—”

“You’re a boy! A boy!! So please, stop and just live. Even for just one more second, live!!”

Joanna held onto Oliver, begging through her tears, and yet more people burned away.

Child’s scream echoed in the distance.

“...No.”

Oliver shook his head.

“If I go, everyone will die. Everyone here—”

Tap.

Someone grabbed Oliver.

It was one of the citizens of the capital, who interrupted Oliver mid-sentence, lifted him, and helped Joanna support him.

“Let’s take him away first.”

In the incomprehensible situation, Oliver asked,

“What are you doing?”

The answer was simple.

“Live.”

Oliver was at a loss for words.

Just as he tried to respond,

Tap.

Someone gently touched Oliver’s back.

Though he couldn’t see clearly, he could feel their emotions through the touch.

Gratitude, reverence, courage, faith, and satisfaction—all kinds of emotions.

“It’s okay. You’ve done enough.”

“...”

Tap.

Someone placed a hand on Oliver’s shoulder.

“You can go now.”

Tap.

Someone carefully touched Oliver’s leg.

“Thank you. You can go.”

Tap.

“You’ve done enough. Thank you.”

Tap.

“May God’s blessing be with you.”

Men, women, children, the elderly, the wealthy, scholars, officials, laborers, merchants, beggars, gangsters, swindlers, and prostitutes... countless people said the same to Oliver.

“Please live.”

With no ulterior motives, no pretense, they asked Oliver to live.

“...Excuse me.”

With her lips tightly pressed, Joanna carried Oliver away.

Tap.

“Thank you.”

Tap.

“You’ve truly worked hard.”

Tap.

“I won’t forget.”

No one held Oliver back.

They simply offered him comfort, ensuring he would feel no guilt.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

In those gestures, Oliver felt the love Kent had spoken of.

“Ha... Ha, ha.”

Oliver’s laughter quietly echoed.

A low but utterly satisfied sound of laughter.

“Joanna.”

After a moment, Oliver called for Joanna.

Joanna tried to ignore him and continue walking, but when Oliver leaned toward her and embraced her, she had no choice but to stop.

Joanna lowered Oliver briefly and cried out.

“Oliver...!”

“Help me.”

Before Joanna could say more, Oliver softly pleaded.

“There’s something I want to try. Something I failed at a long time ago... Please help me.”

“...”

“It’s a method I thought would never work, so I haven’t even considered it again. But if you help, I think it might be possible.”

“But—”

“—Please. Trust me.”

Oliver looked at Joanna as he pleaded, and Joanna recalled a promise she had made to him.

A promise to believe in and support him no matter what happened.

Joanna clenched her hand tightly.

“What... do you need me to do?”

“Could you place my left hand on your chest?”

Joanna carefully took Oliver’s broken left arm and placed it at the center of her chest.

In that position, Oliver asked again.

“Do you trust me?”

“...I do. Always.”

Joanna answered, and Oliver responded as well.

“Extraction.”