A Priest's Life as a Villain

Chapter 17

Ran's report was brief. There were no major differences from the reports of 1st division and the clergy. However, the commander of the Special Unit learned something new—it was that Martin had refused Ran's offer to help search the hideout.

With this, 1st division leader Johan's disciplinary action was confirmed, and 3rd division leader Bern's position became unassailable. The Special Unit's commander, who had been quietly debating his own succession, solidified his resolve in that moment.

He glanced at the executives, including Ran, surrounding him. His previously agitated heart felt settled, and his voice softened.

"The situation on the eastern front has become complicated, but for us, it's an opportunity."

A few days earlier, the emperor himself had unexpectedly departed for the eastern front, both to inspect the area and boost the morale of the troops. It was an unscheduled expedition. As a result, events in the territory, including the opening ceremony of the Brinhill Church, were naturally postponed.

"If we hurry, we may be able to complete the restoration work on schedule."

"3rd division leader. Let's take this chance to wipe out all the Revolutionaries near the capital. What do you think?"

"Quite right, sir."

"This is what happens when you don't weed out the troublemakers in time. Huh? 13th Branch Manager Dante? What's this punk doing?"

The Special Unit's commander threw the crumpled parchment in his fist. Ran's eyes slid over to it.

Bern spoke while keeping an eye on 1st division leader Johan.

"The management of Revolutionary moles has been solely entrusted to 1st division leader."

Johan just hung his head, unable to say a word. He had neglected this matter, thinking the Revolutionaries had gone quiet. In truth, he should have been receiving regular reports from the spies and keeping tabs on the situation.

Instead, his attention had been elsewhere. He tightened the leash on insider spies and demanded rewards.

Johan's patrons were not limited to the merchant guilds.

"1st division leader. Hand everything over to 3rd division leader. Got it?"

"... Yes, sir."

"How did things get this bad, letting some punk out of your grasp? 3rd division leader, find this 13th Branch Manager Dante immediately. Understood?"

"Leave it to me."

Bern glanced at Ran and smiled.

* * *

Several days passed.

Ran stood in front of the Gerinhild Belfry, raising his head. The tip of the tower overlapped with the sun, making it difficult to see. He squinted against the brilliant light.

'The tallest tower in the capital—or perhaps on the mainland.'

The Gerinhild Belfry was a famous landmark in the capital. The bell tolled exactly twelve times a year—on the last day of every month, the day of prayer. Today was the day the tenth bell would ring this year.

"Yaaawn."

The gatekeeper, an old man who had dozed off by the tower's entrance, stretched and let out a long yawn. His thin joints made cracking sounds. It was time for the bell-ringer to arrive.

At the Grand Cathedral, a different clergy member was assigned as the bell-ringer each month. The bell-ringer would ascend the tower in advance and pray, then ring the bell at noon as the service ended.

'If I recall, it was Priest Antonio.'

The old man murmured the bell-ringer's name, which he had been told earlier. Lately, he had found himself forgetting everything. Sometimes he felt as if he woke from a nap while walking an unfamiliar path.

'Is there a worm in my brain or something, really.'

He saw someone approaching from the distance. The old man rubbed his eyes as his eyes and mouth opened wide.

"Oh, ooh?"

The surrounding landscape blurred, his vision filled with radiant light.

Like a barren branch toppling, the old man sank to his knees.

"Lo-lord?"

He raised both hands as if supporting the air. Above them, a man dressed in a white robe was walking toward him, a halo radiating around his outline. The old man couldn't look directly at him. He closed his eyes, and when he reopened them, the light was gone, leaving only the man. Tears ran down the old man's cheeks.

"Are you the holy son sent to me by the Lord?"

The old man grasped the man's hand, his thin jaw trembling.

The man bent at the waist, placing his remaining right hand over the old man's hands, which clasped his left.

"Merely the bell-ringer."

"Ah, your name—please, tell me your name."

"... Priest Cyrano."

The old man pressed his forehead to Ran's hand and closed his eyes again, reciting a prayer.

"I have witnessed Saint Cyrano, the Lord's son."

The old man had lived all his life with devout faith. He was certain—his prayer had reached the heavens. The Lord Asriel had finally responded. If not, how else could he explain this priest of radiant light?

"May you guide our hearts with the Holy Spirit's call this day, sanctify the world, and grant grace so all sinners may repent."

"Amen."

The old man finished his prayer, bowed deeply to the earth, and sobbed.

Ran was simply relieved. He'd avoided an unnecessary killing. Brushing past the old man in Antonio's white robe, he entered.

Inside the belfry, all was still.

Ran ascended the spiral staircase that wound around the central column.

He walked in silence, relying on sunlight seeping through outer crevices and small windows in the dark gloom.

'Whew.'

After a long climb, he reached the top. Surrounding the giant Gerinhild bell at the center, the space was scarcely three paces wide.

Ran first set down the white bundle on his back. It was so heavy that as it hit the ground with a thunk, dust swirled up.

Sweat that had dripped from his chin cooled quickly. Just as it appeared from below, the top of the belfry was nearly flush with the sky, like standing in a watchtower above the clouds. Winds beat relentlessly from every direction, ears ringing.

Ran looked down over the railing.

From above, Gerinhild—supposedly a symbol of civilization—appeared almost toy-like. Buildings that seemed lavish up close now clustered like wax figures; the people wandering among them were mere dots. It seemed the lightest wave could bring everything crashing down.

'Lord, so this is the world as you see it.'

The palace known as Heaven Above Heavens, the emperor said to rule the human world—

In the end, they were only a part of that small, powerless world.

Clack, clack.

Ran untied the white bundle and began assembling the parts inside. His movements were practiced, deftly connecting and tightening the metal pieces. Soon a crossbow larger than the width of his arms was complete.

Ran plucked the taut string and gave a subtle smile.

'All those sleepless nights paid off.'

He could never have climbed the belfry with a special, custom crossbow from Marmel slung across his back.

First, Ran had precisely analyzed the crossbow's structure, drafted a blueprint, and looked for ways to make it as light as possible. Once resolved, he repeatedly dismantled and reassembled it for practice. It took him two days to master it.

'Thankfully, I timed it just right.'

He mounted the crossbow on the ledge and checked the sun's position.

'Noon.'

He inserted a lump of glue the size of a finger joint in his ear and gripped the lever attached to the wheel beside the bell.

He couldn't remember the last time he recited a prayer. But this time, he needed God's grace.

"... Come, Lord."

Dang, dang, dang—

The pulley spun with force, striking the bell in succession.

Ran immediately sat before the crossbow. He connected the two-part arrow shaft and attached the tip.

The bell ringing behind him thundered his heart.

Focusing his breath, his eyes closed.

'As I struggle fiercely against the forces of evil in the mortal world, I praise you, the source of all that is good.'

He kissed the cold tip.

"Support me with your almighty hand."

He nocked the arrow and drew the string with all his might. The taut line bit through the leather glove into his flesh. Ran waited until his tremors stilled.

'Grant me steadfast strength and courage—'

The string caught on the latch. The sight, swaying like a pendulum in time with the intermittent bells, slowly stabilized.

"Watch over me with merciful eyes."

He anchored the crossbow butt tightly, peering at the Gerinhild territory with one eye.

Tudu-duk.

Every nerve in his eyes seemed ready to snap. He didn't mind. The rim of his pupils glowed gold. Each breath sent white mist from his nose and mouth.

Gradually, the tiny scene before him magnified until it felt right in front of his face.

His breathing grew calm.

A wave of omnipotence wrapped Ran.

'As I earnestly wish—'

His aim rested at the Grand Cathedral entrance.

The Special Unit commander and his family finished worship, descending the wide stairs to merge with the crowd in the square.

He heard the expressions, prayers, laughter, hymns from inside the church, and the sound of wind sweeping fallen leaves—all echoing in his ears.

"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit."

The crosshair centered on the Special Unit commander's forehead—steadily. Ran slowly rested his finger on the trigger.

'Make me the center of unity.'

The commander caught his onrushing grandchild in an embrace.

Ran quickly pulled his finger away. The flow broken, pain shot through his body. He gritted his teeth, waiting for the moment their eyes would not meet—when the Special Unit commander and his young grandchild's gazes diverged.

Pushed to the edge of patience, Ran thought:
Today, Lord Asriel received prayers from both sides. Whose soul would He cradle?

If the Special Unit commander received the grace of God, he would live. That was all.

The commander set his grandchild down.

"Care for the most forsaken soul."

Pudududuk—!

Birds perched on the roof of the belfry scattered, flapping wildly.

The arrow sliced between them.

* * *

The bell's sound still gently spread over Gerinhild. Hymns did not cease.

But amidst the sacred resonance, a desperate scream began to spread.

The arrow embedded in the Special Unit commander's head was the signal.

Under Ran's command, revolutionaries who had infiltrated the territory in advance held up torches.

"For the liberation of the demons!"

Nearly twenty Revolutionaries shouted in unison. Their torches struck the Grand Cathedral's outer wall.

Whoosh!

Flames spread instantly, sweeping a fierce heat wave through the air.

Moments earlier, the Grand Cathedral had overflowed with the Holy Spirit. Now fire raged. The faithful who had come for Lord Asriel's grace ran wild, screaming. Chaos ensued.

"Rescuing lives is the priority! Save the church's faithful first!"

"Deploy immediately!"

The guards were the first to take action. Only a handful of Special Unit personnel were on guard around the Grand Cathedral.

'The Revolutionaries attacking the Grand Cathedral—?'

All Special Unit members on site thought the same thing. They had never imagined such a thing. The flames were reflected in their trembling eyes.

Meanwhile, Ran—already changed into a Special Unit uniform—hurried on horseback toward the scene.

'This isn't the plan, Zilla!'

Now was not the time for arson at the Grand Cathedral. If Ran succeeded in assassinating the Special Unit commander, the plan was just to create a diversion—not set an actual fire. The main Revolutionary force, carrying oil, was supposed to slip through the city gates during the ensuing chaos.

Heeeigh—!

Suddenly, Ran jerked the reins; the horse reared up.

'Calm down.'

The transported oil was meant to be poured into the Grand Cathedral's basement—at the Special Unit headquarters—a few days later. Zilla had planned to burn both the Special Unit and the Grand Cathedral that day and die gloriously. It wasn't supposed to be a crowded holy day.

Ran recalled the last thing she had said.

'The day the Special Unit commander is assassinated, my deal with you ends.'

Once both sides achieved their objectives, the Revolutionaries inside Gerinhild would be in much greater danger. Zilla had every reason to guard against Ran's betrayal; for Ran as well, cutting ties was wise.

'My objective is complete.'

The horse snorted harshly. Ran felt something raging inside. He fixed his gaze on the black smoke spiraling in the distance.

"Hyah!"

Ran, pressing down his bird-beak mask, pulled the reins again.

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=
Is it betrayal? What's happening?
Also, I like the prayer while preparing for the assassination.
【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】