Chapter 93 - Man-Made (4)

As far as Alon knew, Chief Cardinal Anderde had not existed in the original story. Even if he had, he was a character who had never once shown his face in Psychedelia.

That was why, despite his outwardly impassive expression, Alon's mind was racing.

'Was the story always supposed to unfold this way? Or has it changed?'

Of course, pondering that gave him no answers. His knowledge covered only the period beginning a year from now; he had no way of knowing what had happened before that.

He turned his gaze toward Yuman. The man who was obliged to save the world alongside Elivan in the future, thereby guaranteeing Alon a comfortable life, had blocked Anderde's attack with divine power.

'A saint indeed. He can use divine power without making the holy sign or praying.'

Remembering that every one of Yuman's skills in the game activated instantly without consuming a turn, Alon heaved a sigh of relief.

'That's a relief, at least.'

Naturally, Alon's original reason for using even Form of the Thunder God to rush out here had been to save Yuman, the guarantor of his future comfort. If this event had always been meant to happen, Yuman would of course survive. But if it hadn't, he could die.

... Well, by the time Alon cast his spell, Yuman had already successfully blocked the attack, so instead of protecting him, Alon had put Anderde out of action.

But Alon could feel it instinctively.

This wasn't over yet.

"... Marquis Pallatio, was it?"

Chief Cardinal Anderde struggled to speak. Alon's Form of the Thunder God had not only blown his arm apart, but also scorched half his face black. A benevolent smile still lingered on his lips.

Despite injuries that should have killed him, not merely incapacitated him, that smile did not fade.

As though he felt no pain—no.

"..."

As though it had been painted on.

"Yes."

As Alon's answer fell, the priests who had been watching blankly until moments before began to pray. At the same time, the paladins drew the swords at their waists and made the holy sign. The cardinals who had barely escaped with their lives declared Anderde an unequivocal heretic and summoned their divine power.

Yet even then, still wearing that painted-on benevolent smile, he looked down at Alon below the dais.

"Wonderful. Truly wonderful."

Suddenly, he uttered those words.

"What...?"

By the time Alon questioned him, the clergy had already finished their prayers and were launching their attacks at Anderde.

Some fired arrows of light.

Some, maces.

Some, swords.

Some, lightning.

Some, divine power itself.

All aimed at Anderde.

A tremendous roar erupted. Lightning formed from divine power descended from the sky, and white divine spells suffused with the blue moon's light rained down one after another.

Like a downpour.

Like a meteor shower.

An immense barrage of divine magic struck the dais where Anderde stood. Before Alon's eyes unfolded a display of sacred violence so immense that even he felt involuntary awe.

And when that explosive bombardment of divine power ended, the dais collapsed, revealing—

"..."

Anderde, still standing with his entire body shattered.

Both arms were gone. Several enormous holes pierced his torso, and the top of his head had been blown away.

His condition was, for all practical purposes, a certain sentence of death.

Yet Anderde's benevolent smile did not disappear. Horror filled the eyes of the gathered priests, cardinals, and Yuman.

"It would have been such a waste. Your 'stature' is quite impressive, after all."

Anderde murmured those words, his face still serene.

"I didn't want to let you slip away."

With those final words—

CRUNCH!

An exceedingly strange sound began to come from Anderde. An unpleasant sound, as though something were forcibly pushing something else out.

At the same time, red branches sprouted and began to grow from the body that had worn a benevolent smile until moments before.

RRRRUMBLE!

Starting from where he stood, the great plaza occupied by the priests split in a straight line.

"A-aaah!"

"G-get out of the way! Hurry!"

The instant the ground split, the priests screamed and scrambled to move.

A gigantic tree trunk emerged, smashing a straight path through the plaza as it descended into pandemonium. Dozens, hundreds of blood-red trunks burst through the ground.

Then, from the immense fissure that stretched beyond the plaza into the white city within the inner walls—

CRRRACK!

It began to emerge.

The first things to appear were two bizarre hands, red vines writhing over them. Next came the head of an enormous statue, emerging as though its birth came at the cost of devouring the white city.

The massive statue's body followed, pulling free of the earth.

And at that moment, everyone there realized the truth.

Anderde, who had stood before them with a benevolent smile only moments ago, had been nothing more than a puppet.

CRRRACK!

Anderde's once-smiling body, now bristling with countless branches, was sucked into the statue in an instant.

CRACK!

At the same time, the enormous statue's human face split into four sections, opening like petals as countless red branches sprouted between them.

At last, having devoured the entire eastern quarter of the white city, the being emerged.

["In accordance with your will, I have descended."]

It looked toward the priests and spoke—

["All of you, worship me."]

—announcing its own birth to all.

["Me, Machina, the god of humanity."]

An Outer God had descended.

####

The priests.

The paladins.

The cardinals.

Yuman.

All stared blankly at the Outer God that had descended beneath the blue moon—at the thing that had crawled out while swallowing the white city, spreading branches in every direction as though it intended to devour the rest.

Alon was just as bewildered.

'Machina...?'

He was confused. He had never even heard of the Outer God called Machina standing before him. Of course, this was not the period he knew well, but even taking that into account, the being before his eyes was unmistakably out of place.

'What in the world...!'

As Alon watched Machina in confusion, he soon recognized something: the all-too-familiar black smoke flowing from its entire body, now covered in woody vines up to its waist.

'Abyssal Cores...?'

The term came to him unbidden, reminding him of something he had heard before: Abyssal Cores, which bestowed divine stature on people above a certain level of ability, had entered the Holy Kingdom.

With that, he realized that this being had been made using Abyssal Cores.

"... An artificial Outer God?"

As Alon involuntarily murmured what it was, the priests cried out in horror.

"L-look over there!"

"Th-the people!"

Following their cries, he looked beneath the enormous Outer God.

There were people there—subjects of the Holy Kingdom, hanging limply in the grip of red vines.

["Do not resist. I do this to care for you all equally."]

A holy voice rang out, all the more grotesque for its holiness, as red vines began creeping toward the priests.

"Stop them!"

The paladins charged the advancing red vines and began cutting down the writhing branches. Soon, the priests' divine magic cut through the blue night and shot toward the Outer God.

For a moment, the spectacle that had awed even Alon repeated itself.

CRRRUNCH! BOOM!

One of Machina's arms, so imposing only moments before, fell off. A glimmer of hope appeared in the priests' eyes, rekindling their fighting spirit.

But that spirit did not last long.

"I-it's regenerating...?!"

Something unbelievable was happening. The arm that had surely been shattered by the meteor-like bombardment of divine power was regenerating.

As though it were nothing.

At an astonishing speed.

Hundreds of branches wove together as though forming blood vessels, restoring the right arm in an instant. The priests recoiled in horror at the grotesque sight.

"A-aaah!"

The paladins cutting down the red vines approaching the plaza began to be overwhelmed one by one. Red branches grew all over those caught in the vines, reducing them to mere clumps of wood in an instant.

"!"

Fear spread among the paladins. Like an epidemic, it spread equally to everyone there.

Having devoured the paladins in moments, the vines finally reached the priests and moved to seize those who remained.

At that moment—

WHOOSH!

An enormous barrier blocked the red vines.

"Ugh!"

It was Yuman who had stopped them.

With an amount of divine power no one else could imitate wrapped around his entire body, he had created an immense wall of sacred energy. The priests gazed at him in awe, but unfortunately, his expression was far from hopeful.

The wall of divine power, which only a saint could make so impossibly large, was rapidly draining his stamina.

And then—

["You cried out for equality, and I descended to grant it. How ignorant you are."]

As the enormous hand rose high into the blue sky, the priests saw it. A hand that had been far too small to obscure the blue moon grew as hundreds of red trunks tangled together, until it was large enough to swallow the moon.

"Lady Shironia..."

At the sight, the priests instinctively called upon the goddess Shironia. The cardinals sighed in despair.

Even Yuman, maintaining the enormous wall, stared at that immense hand with eyes full of helplessness and despair.

'What is that thing?'

["All of you, accept me. I am the god of humanity whom you created—"]

["—and I shall treat you fairly."]

As Machina's voice rang out, that enormous hand fell toward the sacred wall Yuman had erected.

SHATTER!

"Whew."

A small sigh accompanied the sound of something breaking. Yuman turned around with difficulty.

There stood—

"Hold on a little longer."

—Marquis Pallatio. No, the Hidden Saint, treading on a shattered potion bottle while drinking another, his expression impassive even in this desperate situation.

"Can you do that?"

At his next question, Yuman answered as though entranced.

"I'll... try."

Watching him, the Hidden Saint—no, Alon—spoke.

"I'd also like you to leave the top of the barrier open."

After checking the necklace around his neck, shining pure white, he recited a phrase.

"Arrangement of Thunder."

CRACKLE!

Lightning suffused with the blue moon's light began crackling over his body.