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Chapter 26 -  That’s Enough!

"…If humanity can be saved, then our Lord shall surely bestow mercy upon us as we look to Him in faith. I will bless my Lord at all times; His praise shall continually be in my mouth. Magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt His name together!"

"Those who look to Him shall be radiant; their faces shall never be shamed. O holy people of the Lord, fear Him—for those who fear Him lack nothing. You shall surely benefit from this; for the Lord blesses the righteous. He shall surround you with favor as with a shield!"

The crowd surged with fervor.

A brown-haired woman called out in an elegant yet impassioned voice, "This shall be humanity's greatest honor! The faithful shall dwell in our Lord's kingdom forever!"

The boy turned toward her, meeting her rose-red eyes with a smile.

"You shall reclaim your truest self and live and perish alongside the Spirit of the Lord!"

"We must offer righteous sacrifice and trust in our Lord—for He is the shield around us, our glory, and the One who lifts up our heads!"

The woman blinked, smiling in return.

The boy bowed slightly, as though thanking her for her cooperation.

"This fills my heart with joy—greater than those who rejoice in abundant grain and new wine. So it was before, and so it shall be—Amen!"

"Amen!"

"Amen!"

"Amen!"

From a distance, Cecilia and Otto watched the spectacle unfold along the Thames.

Strangely, though it was still the Christmas holiday, the number of passersby had begun to dwindle.

"Reciprocity is proper etiquette," Otto murmured softly amid the noise, drawing Cecilia's curious glance.

"The world is steeped in restless agitation. Everyone is desperate to break free from their own chains."

There was no fluctuation in his expression.

Yet something about him felt distant.

Unreal.

Yes—unreal.

Even as she held his arm, Cecilia felt an inexplicable separation between him and the world—perhaps even between him and herself.

As if his soul had momentarily stepped beyond this space, risen above the city, and was now observing events from a detached narrator's vantage point.

Her heart tightened.

She leaned closer unconsciously, fingers tightening slightly around his sleeve.

Otto seemed to notice.

A faint smile curved his lips.

The soul that had hovered above returned to its vessel.

He tilted his head, green eyes blinking gently.

Don't be afraid. I'm here.

He told her with nothing but his gaze.

Cecilia steadied instantly. The anxiety melted away, replaced by trust and calm. She nodded firmly.

Clio was stunned again.

She had never imagined someone could, within mere minutes, conjure vivid portrayals of multiple "deities" with only a handful of sentences. Had she not known the truth, she might have suspected these were ancient doctrines of their organization.

What a high-quality believer.

Such a shame…

He had fallen into her hands.

And she—

She cared only for experiments.

"Now then," the boy cleared his throat, "after speaking of the four great deities—[Savior], [Heavenly Wisdom], [Fleeting Life], and [Anti-Entropy]—allow me to introduce the most terrifying god of all…"

"[Schicksal]. The most detestable deity in history. Its other name is even more widely known—[Demon]."

"What?"

"How could a god be a demon?"

The crowd erupted again. The earlier woman covered her mouth, amused.

The boy seemed pleased by their doubt. He lowered his head, voice turning mournful and grave:

"Devouring hope of past and future alike, plunging into stifling gray oblivion.

Within this hidden cemetery of the heart's river echoes a hoarse cry of despair—footsteps striking earth with a monotonous, subtle, profane tone."

"In response to that hateful wail, those heavy and shadowed ultimate terrors—blind, mute, foolish sages—strip life from the river of the heart, igniting ghostly blue flames in the graveyard. And then, slowly, clumsily, absurdly, they begin their nauseating dance."

"And their soul—yes, their soul—is that golden-haired, blue-eyed man. The one of countless forms, terrifying beyond measure. After our Lord departed beyond the mortal world and the Imaginary Sea, this [Schicksal] Demon ruled humanity for five hundred years."

"Yes. Demon. That is its true name. 'Martial God' was merely a token of mercy—an arbitrary justification granted by our Lord."

"Any believer who defies its darkness or speaks ill of it shall be twisted and corrupted, barred from entering the Kingdom of [Savior]."

Silence fell.

A subtle dread seeped into the hearts of the listeners.

Clio watched with satisfaction. The speech had landed perfectly.

She stepped forward, intending to pat the boy's head and add a concluding flourish.

"Everyone—"

But her hand grasped only air.

The boy had stepped forward as well.

He turned back to glance at Clio, flashing a mischievous grin.

Then he raised his voice.

"Do you know why I understand [Schicksal] so well? Because its envoy has descended among us and revealed all truths of the gods to me!"

"Rejoice! The envoy of [Schicksal] has arrived! She who embodies great achievements, stands supreme, and knows the ancient darkness—Jackal! At this very moment, she descends into this mortal shell to bring us divine blessing!"

The believers exchanged uncertain looks.

All eyes turned to Clio.

The boy spread his arms wide, face ablaze with fervor.

"This is the king's triumph! Rejoice! The envoy of God walks this earth—history turns to a new page!"

At first, no one moved.

Then suspicion slowly transformed into belief.

As though synchronized, the crowd knelt.

Their eyes shone with yearning.

"So it's true…"

"The scriptures did say God answers…"

"But didn't Schicksal say—"

"Are you ignorant? Schicksal is also divine—no matter how history slanders it!"

"God… God…"

"You are the envoy?"

"You are God's envoy!"

Clio stared at the perfectly synchronized worship, her mask tilting slightly from shock.

The believers slowly raised their heads.

One by one, identical inscrutable smiles spread across their faces.

Their murmurs grew louder, coalescing into a single name, chanted in unison—

"Jackal!"

"Jackal!"

"Jackal!"

In that sudden, reverent chorus, Clio's eyes shifted from panic to confusion—

—and finally to murderous intent.

She stepped back and shouted at the boy:

"That's enough, Otto Apocalypse!"

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