Chapter 38: The Shadow Knights Stir

The Holy Empire of Lucilonia.
A prosperous nation led by the God of Light, Luxlon, and the apostles who followed him.
The apostles, chosen by God, wielded transcendental powers, and by actively using those powers, they brought about both material and spiritual abundance—a perfect land for human life.

Even if it wasn’t Lucilonia itself, under Luxlon’s order the world was rich and peaceful.
With the power of a just and inclusive religion, and the special blessings given by God, such a world was possible.

Because material needs were fulfilled, there was no reason for conquest; and because God’s will defined human justice, there was no need for independent will. Most of all, they could afford to be generous and tolerant because they embodied order and good itself—and every god in the world was merely a fragment of Luxlon.

The doctrine was thoroughly focused on justice and charity, because its purpose was entirely for humankind—for humans to live peacefully.
So, if one simply wished to live without suffering, it was wise to embrace Luxlon’s order.
And if one proved devout enough to become an apostle, they would gain honor and wealth, living a truly blessed life.

The prosperity of the Holy Empire and the Orderly Alliance, safeguarded by the apostles’ power, contrasted sharply with the harsh struggles of those outside its reach, who fought endlessly against monsters just to survive.
Thus, anyone born human in this age naturally longed for the Holy Empire.

And yet—there were those who rejected it.
Those who deliberately remained outside Luxlon’s dominion.

Individuals who had awakened special powers, qualifying them to become apostles, but who instead denied the god and wandered beyond his order.
In truth, they were closer to apostles than ordinary people, since they too manifested divine-like powers. At times, they even used those powers to strike down criminal groups the Holy Empire could not handle.

But the reason they were not recognized as true apostles was not simply because they denied God.
It was because their methods were too cruel.

They were a group who butchered people mercilessly, in bloody massacres—no matter how vile their targets were.
The Holy Empire had strict standards for defining heresy, and by those standards, this group was heretical.

And yet, in their own brutal way, they acted much like knights protecting the weak.
For they did not kill the weak.
The only people slain by the Shadow Knights were the dregs of humanity.

And so, they became known as Shadow Knights.
Neither apostles nor holy knights of the Empire, serving no known master, but at least protecting the weak.
They seemed content with that title—so long as no one mistook them for zealots.

The man who had long led these Shadow Knights, however, was not widely known, despite their infamous reputation.
That was because he spent his days either drugged on medicine or lost in sleep.

“Ghh… aaaghhh…!”

The commander relied daily on narcotic sleep aids, unable to rest naturally.
Even now, in a haze of drugs, he suddenly screamed awake—as though even the medicine no longer worked.

“Haa… haa… khh… hhh….”

Sitting on his bed, he panted, then began to sob, almost deliriously.
A subordinate handed him a cup of water.

“Commander, are you all right?”

He was drenched in sweat, trembling violently, eyes wide as if in terror.
Those who knew him well realized immediately that this was not normal. The commander usually wore only a bored expression. Even if a massacre unfolded before his eyes, he would hardly blink—just sigh and go back to sleep.

But now, here he was, shaken, emotional, even… frightened.

“W-where… where is this…? Where am I?”

The subordinate blinked. Such a display was shocking.
The commander muttered to himself:

“North… 5452318. East… 23464302…”

He mumbled a stream of coordinates—numbers that, to anyone who could see the world from above, would mark specific points on a map.
After reciting hundreds of numbers, he tilted his head, then whispered a single word:

“…Mirtis.”

“Eh?”

“Mirtis? Where’s that?”

“Isn’t that… the name of a poisonous mushroom?”

“I have to go to Mirtis. Right now.”

“…What? You’re going mushroom-picking?”

The commander stared at him.
His frown seemed disdainful—but the subordinate only thought he was embarrassed at spouting nonsense.

The commander shook his head, regaining composure.
But unlike usual, his eyes were sharp, alive—no longer dulled by fatigue.

“Where does that Mirtis mushroom grow?”

“They say it grows around a place called Mirgas.”

“Then that’s where I’m going, idiot.”

Though he snapped irritably, he soon fell into heavy thought.

“Why all of a sudden?”

“…It’s dead. Gone. Terminated. Completely ended.”

“What’s dead?”

“…I don’t know. Someone… something I’ve never felt before.”

“Commander, this is what happens when you live on nothing but drugs. Now you’re craving mushrooms too? Go back to bed. I’ll sing you a lullaby if you want.”

Normally, he would have beaten the man for such insolence. The subordinate even braced himself. But the commander didn’t react—he was already standing, as if chased by something.

“For once… please… this time, let it be real…”

It was the first time anyone had seen him truly desperate for something.
He began preparing to leave immediately.

“Commander! Wait! Don’t go alone—who knows what might happen? I’m coming too!”

The commander ignored him, moving quickly, muttering ceaselessly under his breath as he left.
With an expression of ecstatic anticipation.

“…Belmias…”

Repeating only that name.

******

The anomaly at Mirgas ended in just one night after Bel intervened.
When ACERAS terminated, people soon awoke. The knights, who had been the last to fall asleep, woke first, then others in the order they had disappeared. The gathered crowd quickly filled with noisy chatter, some shocked to learn they had been asleep for months.

Beata Mirgas seemed eager to ask her countless questions, but she busied herself helping the confused awaken and descend the mountain.

Bel, having no further reason to remain, left first with Lema.
Lema Valkite too seemed weighed down by questions, but until they returned to the Mirgas estate, he did not speak a word. He ran himself breathless in the training yard that night, trying to clear his head.

Bel, of course, had no intention of explaining unasked matters.
The silence stretched until the next day.

“You’re leaving? Already?”

At the breakfast table, while reviewing the previous day’s events, Bel spoke bluntly of her plans.

“Yeah. No sacrifices to be found here, nothing left. I still need to find the summoner.”

Both Beata and Lema stared at her, startled.