Understanding was one thing, but Allen believed that Luthien, the Archbishop’s “the Church commands the sword” was fundamentally the right idea.
If the Judgement Court were to completely take charge, the Kingdom would likely soon be plunged into a bloody storm.
It wasn’t that it couldn’t happen—it just needed to happen when he was prepared, and in a way he could control.
Now was the time to speak plainly, to prevent the Judgement Court from acting on its own.
Allen’s friendly smile faded, replaced by a natural, commanding dignity: “I understand your attitude toward the Church. But there are some things I must say upfront.”
“You’re an Inner Circle member. You know the lessons of human history. The people can do without lords and Nobles, but they cannot do without the Church. The Church shoulders the core governance of the Kingdom at its most basic level. If the Church loses its effectiveness, who do you think will take over that ground?”
Guillaume St. Clair frowned, “Heresy?”
“Exactly!” Allen confirmed. “Why is the Empire’s situation so terrible? That’s the root cause.”
“Chaotic politics and endless wars have turned the local churches of the Empire into targets for pillaging and destruction by the lords. The suffering people lose proper guidance and turn to the embrace of the Evil God. Things spiral ever downward in a vicious cycle.”
“The Evil God feeds on the suffering of mankind. The collapse of the Church will only allow the Evil God’s influence to deepen.”
“Thus, while the Church may have countless problems—as defenders of the old order, sometimes even unwittingly nurturing deeper evils—it’s merely lost and confused for now. It needs someone who can lead and push for internal reform. That person is Luthien, the Archbishop.”
“The Church, in essence, is a big tent blurring ideological lines in order to win the majority’s support and perpetuate human civilization. That means its inner workings are extremely complex. Your enemy is not the Church as a whole, but the Corruptors within, those who are most steeped in sin.”
“The Church’s historical mission is not yet finished. It plays a crucial role in mobilizing all humanity to survive the apocalypse. Do you really believe some random God’s Messenger can save mankind? No! Humanity can only save itself!”
Humanity can only save itself?!
So that’s it! Is this the revelation of the God’s Messenger?!
“I will reflect deeply on your admonition.” Guillaume nodded respectfully.
Seeing this, Allen smoothly changed the topic and threw out a carrot at the right moment: “However, some of the reforms you seek may soon become reality. For example… expanding the Judgement Court’s autonomy.”
“Eh?” Guillaume was momentarily stunned.
Allen shot Marianne a look: “Marianne, tell the Grand Inquisitor everything you’ve seen and heard, just as it was.”
“Yes, Young Master!”
From the perspective of a direct witness, Marianne detailed the Thieves’ Guild’s many crimes.
The specifics were far more graphic and shocking than anything in the War Party’s reports.
Victor listened, trembling with rage at these unspeakable acts.
He looked at the fidgeting Nobles and the pale-faced captives, itching to draw his sword and execute them all on the spot!
Guillaume, too, could barely contain his fury.
As a devout follower of the Lord, he had never imagined such ongoing, depraved evil could exist beneath the Capital Lucien itself.
A terrifying thought flashed through his mind: perhaps humanity’s looming destruction was punishment from the Lord for its own ugliness and sin—a Judgement upon mankind.
When he saw those girls who were in such dire straits they needed to be rushed to the Judgement Court’s medical ward for Emergency Medical Injector treatment, girls who had nearly been disposed of as “waste,” his resolve only grew stronger.
“That girl who lost her limbs… can you still save her?” Allen asked quietly.
“We have advanced prosthetic technology…” Guillaume answered, his voice heavy. “In the future, she’ll become a nun who fights humanity’s enemies with all her fury. Leave them to us. We must atone for the crimes our vile desires have wrought.”
“Thank you for your mercy.”
Guillaume’s gaze turned toward the Nobles, finally settling on the gagged Head of the Guild, his face twisted with open disgust.
The Head of the Guild had heard every word. With such bombshells dropped, he realized he had absolutely no chance of survival.
With the suspected God’s Messenger and the terrifying highest leader of the Heretic Inquisition Squad both present, his so-called “Outlaw Emperor” status was utterly meaningless.
So, the moment Victor yanked the cloth from his mouth, he tried to bite off his tongue—since he was dead either way, he might as well die “with backbone,” taking his secrets to the grave.
Unfortunately, backbone was nowhere to be found. He only ended up howling in pain, blood streaming from his mouth, the whole scene wretched and humiliating.
Allen shook his head, exasperated: “What are you thinking? Biting off your tongue won’t kill you. Heretics manage it because they have the Evil God’s blessing—only then will they die without leaking secrets. Trash like you? The Evil God wouldn’t even bother looking at you.”
“Wu wu wu… Spare me! I still have so many assets… hundreds of thousands—no, over a million livre! I’ll give you everything! I know all the secrets! I… I just want to live…”
Just a moment ago, this Head of the Guild had been strutting before his underlings. Now he was groveling, kneeling on the ground and banging his head in terror.
Allen couldn’t be bothered to watch his disgraceful display and signaled to Victor: “Stuff it back. Swap it for… mm, something with a bit more ‘flavor.’”
He glanced at a mercenary who had just taken off his boots.
To deal with scum like this, he needed to sample the true stench of mercenary foot-sweat!
Victor understood instantly, grabbed a pair of socks exuding a potent aroma, and mercilessly stuffed them back into the Guild Head’s mouth. The man’s eyes rolled back as he nearly vomited on the spot.
“Guillaume, this one is yours now,” Allen said solemnly.
“He’s backed by the Evil God–worshipping Minister of Finance—a complete Heretic. Don’t worry about the Holy Covenant. You can handle him however you see fit, and you’ll be doing Crown Prince Charles a favor, too.”
“The Crown Prince topples a powerful moderate official, raising his political prestige; the people get a clearer, less corrupt environment, free from the Thieves’ Guild’s oppression; the Princess rids her camp of a cancer and strengthens her grip on the robed Nobles; the Kingdom can seize his vast illegal wealth, temporarily easing the financial crisis.”
“And for you, the Heretic Inquisition Squad, this operation proves your value. You’ve eliminated a horrifying Evil God creation, exposed the corruption eating away at the secular world. You’ll gain more prestige, more power, and stronger connections with the Kingdom’s political figures—making future heresy purges easier.”
“I won’t claim all the glory of victory for myself. Everyone gets to benefit.”
Hearing Allen’s breakdown, Guillaume was deeply moved.
He realized this God’s Messenger was considering everything from the Inquisition’s perspective—and was even willing to give them the lion’s share of the credit. Such selflessness, such concern for humanity!
He’d just been wishing for more autonomy for the Inquisition, and happiness had arrived at his door!
Guillaume bowed deeply, “I will not disappoint you! Before the day is done, this matter will be dug up root and branch—every last evil, every last corruption, will be brought to light!”
“But I also need something from you.” Allen spoke candidly,
“I’ve now been thoroughly exposed to the Evil God’s sight—become a thorn in their side. I need more of your help and protection. This place, the Thieves’ Guild headquarters, I’m renaming it ‘Heaven’s Haven.’ It will be the starting point for all our reforms.”
“It needs time to grow, and heretical threats will always be present. That’s why I need the Heretic Inquisition Squad to protect this area.”
“Rest assured! We’ll provide support at any time!”
Guillaume immediately looked to Victor,
“Victor Solen! From now on, you are independent of the Inquisition’s normal structure. You have full authority over everything related to Sir de Laval, and may use your own discretion! Your highest priority is his safety! And… our ‘Trump Card,’ Sister Anna, will now be directly under Sir de Laval’s command as well.”
At that moment, Anna, who had just changed into a new nun’s habit and undergone a purification ritual to cleanse any lingering filth, came skipping over to find Allen—just in time to hear this.
She didn’t know Guillaume, but seeing Victor’s respectful attitude told her this was a big leader.
Like a happy golden retriever, she let out a cheer and threw herself at Allen.
“Allen! Like! Hehehe… I’m Allen’s now…”
“No you’re not! I’m the one who belongs to him!”
Marianne’s eyes went wide with alarm. Was this little creature also a threat?!
“Allen smells so nice! Like!”
“Ugh… help… help me…” Allen gasped for help, tightly hugged by Anna.
“Let go of Young Master!” Marianne tried to pull Anna off.
This scene felt all too familiar, and Victor couldn’t help massaging his temples in frustration.
Anna, you may be disguised as a maid, but this God’s Messenger really isn’t your master or your toy!
“Sister Anna… she’s got an uncanny sense for evil.” Guillaume remarked meaningfully.
“Mmm. She likes ‘certain smells’…” Victor replied with equal understanding.
The two exchanged a knowing look but said nothing more.
In the end, Sister Sophia dragged Anna away—the two of them still needed to write the mission report.
The moment Anna heard she had to write a report, her face immediately fell.
Allen had no choice but to promise to cook her a special meal in honor of her heroic deeds. Only then did Anna happily follow Sister Sophia away.
The War Party members also lined up to thank Allen.
Had Allen not unleashed his holy powers to heal their severe wounds, their fate would have been truly miserable.
To show their gratitude, they handed over several “expended” supplies to Allen.
Besides the driver’s allocation of Sanctified Silver Arrowheads—capable of piercing both evil energies and Crestbearer defenses—the most precious items were the various black-tech medical supplies from the field medic—
Battle Stimulants that boosted strength and physical power for a short time with much less side effect than the Church’s secret drugs; the very same Emergency Medical Injector Hugo had already “enjoyed”; Delirium Potion to quickly stabilize the mind and resist low-level psychic shocks; plus antibiotics, bandages, alcohol, and other common medical goods.
But the most valuable of all was the generous personal gift from Grand Inquisitor Guillaume to Allen—a single dose of Gene Enhancement Serum capable of permanently boosting physical attributes.
It could raise an ordinary person’s strength to near the level of a Crestbearer with high bloodline concentration!
For Allen, this was vital. In his current mortal flesh, he couldn’t match the extraordinary powers and wealth of combat experience he possessed.
Of course, the Gene Enhancement Serum came with major side effects.
After injection, Allen would become a voracious eater like Anna for a while, or else his body would rapidly waste away as energy burned too fast.
This stuff was irreplaceable black-tech—once used, it was gone for good.
Normally, only the very best frontline fighters ever got it, and it required an extremely strict approval process.
Now, with his body about to be strengthened, the Church’s legendary anti-crest artifact “Black Sword” soon in hand, and that mysterious, mighty “cheat” of unknown origin…
Allen felt his chances of defeating Livia had just leaped from ten percent to fifty!
There were only ten days left until the duel. This Gene Enhancement Serum was truly a godsend!
This time, he was determined to dodge that damned bad ending!
Allen sincerely thanked all those in the Inquisition who had helped him, and once again won their hearts.
Guillaume could not linger long—he had to begin the interrogation of the Head of the Guild at once.
After backing up the relevant evidence, Allen handed over the originals.
Before leaving, Guillaume promised, “Sir de Laval, you needn’t worry about the safety of ‘Heaven’s Haven.’
From now on, it will be one of our new headquarters as well.
Our defenses are nothing these lowlifes can compare with.
We’ll make it impregnable. In the future, let’s use this joint base to work more closely together.”
“So, you’re… building a new base from scratch?” Allen joked.
Guillaume lowered his voice, “A wise fox keeps three dens… who knows what the future will bring?”
“Of course, I understand.” Allen gripped his hand tightly in parting. “Pleasure working together.”
“The honor is mine.”
By the time the Heretic Inquisition Squad finished all the wrap-up work and fully withdrew, dawn was already breaking.
The pale rays of morning sunlight struggled through the thick fog of the capital, spilling onto the silent streets.
The blood and madness of the night seemed nothing more than a passing nightmare. Soon, the peace and bustle of daylight would reclaim the city.
When ordinary citizens passed by the tightly shut doors of the “Forgotten Madonna” inn as usual, none would guess that the ground beneath their feet had once been soaked in blood.
Still less would they know that the power of the Evil God had descended here, and that their lives had been silently guarded by an unsung hero.
The old order went on as always, yet something—imperceptible—seemed to have quietly changed.
Of course, none of that mattered.
After all, for the countless ordinary people, a new day had only just begun.
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