“Lord Allen, welcome to the Sanctum. As you said, here lie the guardians of Humanity throughout the ages.”
The Archbishop led everyone to a round table in the center of the chamber, surrounded by thirteen chairs.
It was here, under the silent gaze of the guardians of past generations, that those Church members who had endured trials and tribulations would complete the Crest Awakening, join the Inner Circle, and learn their true mission.
“Please, have a seat.”
Once everyone was seated, the Archbishop cut straight to the point: “Lord Allen, what exactly happened to you during the Triumphal Procession? Please, tell us everything in detail.”
Allen swept his gaze around the chamber once more, then closed his eyes, as if pondering deeply, or perhaps recalling past events.
So that’s how it is. The Archbishop had no intention of probing further.
This was a banquet of fate.
Allen was already aware that, in this space, something else was watching him.
He was exceptionally sensitive to such gazes, a perception forged from countless brushes with death.
They must be the special forces of the Church that Marianne had also sensed before.
If negotiations broke down, this underground Sanctum would become his tomb. Here, the Church held absolute dominance; there was no way he would leave alive.
But none of that mattered anymore.
Prepare yourselves to welcome your “God’s Messenger”!
Allen gently tapped the table, and with the casual tone of a superior on inspection, asked,
“Your Grace, just now… did you detect any abnormal energy readings?”
“……”
The Archbishop narrowed his eyes, this helmsman of the Imperial Church now fully assuming the role of “Humanity’s Guardian.”
“There were no such readings.”
Allen nodded, pretending to be inscrutable.
“Well, then I have some bad news. The Church’s mortal enemy, the founder of the Crimson Spiral Cult, the ‘Star Listener,’ has entirely transcended the human level, becoming something… a higher being that Humanity cannot comprehend. I’m afraid your current physical detection methods are unlikely to capture Its movements.”
A flash of disbelief crossed the Archbishop’s eyes, but he remained composed: “It… approached you of its own accord?”
“That’s right.” Allen admitted calmly,
“It was right beside me just now, and told me a lot of key information. For example: the Evil God’s scripted plan, my fated death, that faith and will are required to resist the Engraved Mark… Oh, and It told me to ask you for the ‘Black Sword’ and ‘Saint’s Relic,’ saying that was the answer I sought.”
Victor didn’t know exactly what the “Black Sword” and “Saint’s Relic” were, but he and Anna had witnessed it with their own eyes.
“Your Grace, Anna and I were there at the scene. There was indeed an anomalous presence, reaching at least secondary—perhaps even primary—threat level.”
Archbishop Lucien seemed to be digesting these explosive revelations: “If this is true… why did It approach you? Why tell you these things? Do you know each other?”
“It’s a long story, but perhaps the answer is quite simple.” Allen’s expression grew solemn,
“It probably believes I am the one key variable in this ‘game’ set by the stars, the only one who might change the fate of Humanity. In the words of the Holy Scripture… It thinks I am ‘God’s Messenger.’”
Upon hearing this, Marianne’s heart leapt into her throat. To lay all his cards on the table in a place like this was far too dangerous!
At the same time, she felt a wave of guilt—such a terrifying existence had been right beside her, yet she had sensed nothing!
If… if only she had more strength, she could help shoulder the burden for Allen.
Unnoticed by Marianne, her Brand of Shadow had quietly awakened at this very moment, though in the Sanctum, her abilities could not manifest.
Allen’s statement—“God believes I am God’s Messenger”—neither confirmed nor denied it, but was itself a powerful implication.
The Archbishop caught the subtext and probed, “So… just what do you know?”
“Everything.” Allen smiled faintly, his words shocking everyone,
“I know that Humanity is not the native species of this planet, and the Cycle of Reincarnation recorded in the Holy Scripture is not a legend, but a real, historical fact.”
“I know you inherited the legacy of the previous Cycle, and I know you have recently lost the most precious part of that legacy.”
“I know Humanity’s doom is imminent, and this time, it is a finality that cannot be avoided; I know the Bloodline of the Sigil is the Evil God’s ‘blessing’, that for a thousand years, Humanity’s fate has been manipulated, and you have either hidden, been powerless, or… chosen not to see.”
“What I know, I cannot even express in full, because much of it is beyond your capacity for understanding.”
His tone suddenly sharpened: “But none of that matters! Humanity’s destruction is not irreversible! Because—”
He swept his gaze across the room, eyes burning with an unshakable arrogance: “—I am already here.”
His madness was on full display!
“Your Grace, if you have more questions, now is the time. However, before that, I have some intelligence—of inestimable value to you all—that I must share.”
“I have already met one of the true culprits behind Humanity’s destruction… Hmm, may I speak Its name here?”
Victor was already shocked beyond words, and even Archbishop Lucien looked as if he had suffered a tremendous blow.
“Who is It?!”
“It calls itself the ‘Observer.’” Allen’s voice was cold and clear,
“To It, our world, and even all human civilization, is nothing but an ecological test tube, and we are merely ants inside. Yet those Evil Gods have also noticed the bottle, stuffing in whatever they please.”
“How ‘fortunate’ Humanity is, to be attended by such unfathomable beings!” Allen’s words dripped with irony.
“The Observer and the Evil Gods are in opposition. Thus, It told me, if we can purge the Evil God’s influence as soon as possible, It can postpone the apocalypse—by about half a century.”
“In addition,” Allen’s tone shifted,
“It is deeply disappointed with Humanity. Our stagnation over a thousand years has angered It. It believes that Humanity has lost the will to advance, that relying on escape and stagnation to dodge ‘trials’ is meaningless cowardice! And so, It handed down punishment.”
“Your Grace, have I made myself clear? Do you have further doubts?”
“……”
A deathly silence enveloped the round table. Even Anna, in her confusion, realized that some vast and terrible truth concerning Humanity’s very survival had been revealed.
As Allen spoke, he had transcended the mundane, exuding a certain demonic, almost divine charisma. His voice reverberated in the vast chamber, striking at each listener’s soul.
After a long while, Archbishop Lucien finally let out a deep sigh and asked the ultimate question:
“Lord Allen… who… are you, truly?”
“Allow me to clarify something.” Allen tapped his head, “I am not the ‘God’s Messenger’ you were expecting, nor have I ever seen the ‘Lord.’ However, I can tell you this: I do not belong to this era, nor do I know why I have come here. At my core, I am just an ordinary human.”
“The mission to save Humanity was forced upon me by the Observer. To be precise, It wants to watch me lead Humanity in a struggle for survival—it probably finds that amusing. Perhaps the Evil Gods are after something similar.”
His gaze grew complicated: “From the very beginning, we were nothing more than playthings for their amusement. And our civilization is indeed a tragic comedy—endless strife, suffering, numbness, ignorance… even now, it continues.”
“In some sense, my stance is ‘evil.’ But the desire to save Humanity—at least that part—is real.”
Allen had laid everything bare.
Allen fixed his gaze on Archbishop Lucien, awaiting his final verdict.
The Archbishop seemed almost burned by the purity of that gaze, and instinctively looked away.
But in the next instant, he suddenly caught on to something crucial, jerked his head up, and his eyes blazed with a piercing brilliance.
He asked a question that seemed abrupt, yet cut to the heart, a final trial about Allen’s true nature and Humanity’s future:
“Lord Allen! Tell me! Is it more important to reach the stars, or to preserve civilization?!”
Allen laughed.
The final test, is it?
Was there even a choice to be made?
Was not the Church’s core purpose the continuation of Humanity’s civilization?
He hardly hesitated at all. His face broke into a supremely confident smile, almost feverishly bright, and he answered with unwavering certainty:
“The stars!”
The instant the words left his lips, Allen himself was momentarily stunned.
Huh? Why “the stars”? Wouldn’t preserving civilization be the safer choice?
Yet, this word was like a key, instantly unlocking some deep, searing forge within his soul!
An unprecedented, boundless sense of bliss and indescribable excitement swept over his consciousness, as if the birth of the universe itself was roaring through him.
All worries, dangers, and facades became insignificant in that instant!
He jerked his head up, gaze burning with fanaticism, staring at the immense, slowly-rotating Star Map on the dome.
That deep darkness, those dazzling stars, that endless unknown… it all gripped his soul like a magnet.
“Humanity…”
His voice suddenly rose, imbued with an almost oracular, icy yet compassionate tone, as if a scream suppressed for countless ages had finally burst free, echoing thunderously through the Sanctum!
“This pitiful species called Humanity has long had its soul shackled by gravity. They have forgotten the vastness of the universe, abandoned the quest for the origins of life, sunk into the bottomless abyss of material desire, and now revel in self-made cages, having utterly lost the courage and ambition to reach for the stars.”
He spread his arms wide, as if to embrace that illusory expanse:
“Look at Leclair City! When we gaze down from above, its grandeur is awe-inspiring. Yet a thousand years ago, it was but barren wasteland. Was it the slumbering Lord who created this great city? No! It was generation after generation of ordinary people who worked, thought, struggled, and created on this land! It was Humanity’s own hands and wisdom!”
At this, Allen’s expression darkened in anger, an admonition brimming with frustration:
“But tragically, our world itself is like a vast feeding pen. A monstrous demon named ‘Numbness’ and ‘Nihility’—not raised by the Evil Gods, but by ourselves—feeds upon people’s weakened spirits, shattered dreams, and hollow souls. Every day it produces that sweet poison called ‘comfort,’ ‘pleasure,’ and ‘the power of sweets.”
“Everyone, whether noble or commoner, spends their entire life chasing after that illusion.
In the daily grind of numbness and infighting, we march step by step toward that predestined, utterly meaningless end!”
Allen’s voice rang with a power that pierced the soul. He suddenly pointed at the Star Map above, issuing a thunderous challenge:
“Are we doomed to drown in this hopeless Cycle of Reincarnation?! Are we forever unable to break free from the manipulations of evil and shatter the prison built from our own sins?!”
“No!!” His near-shout burned with the feverish light of a martyr,
“Look up! The answer has long been written in the heavens! Out there in the vast, cold, and dark universe! That is our Promised Land! It is our only path to escape suffering, break the cycle, and seek the meaning of existence!”
“Humanity must reach the stars! Even if the road ahead is thorns and the price is our own destruction, it is far better than struggling meaninglessly in this mire! Have we not suffered enough Cycles already?! Is the sorrow of this world not deep enough?! How much longer must we drown in this hopeless cycle?!”
“I alone cannot save Humanity. So I need you all, just as you need me. I come from a prosperous era that yearned for the stars—I and the Church should be allies.”
“Humanity came from the stars. And I… wish to lead Humanity back, back to our home, back to where it all began.”
Allen’s words echoed endlessly in the Sanctum, his fanatical declaration like a boulder thrown into a still lake, sending waves surging to the sky.
Everyone was utterly stunned by these world-shaking, heretical yet terrifyingly truthful words.
On the dignified face of Archbishop Lucien, tears streamed in every direction.
His body trembled slightly, as if bearing an immense blow to the soul.
Marianne stared blankly at Allen, her mind empty except for his burning, starward silhouette growing infinitely larger in her eyes.
This was the one she followed… His vision was so far-reaching and grand, no wonder he couldn’t care for the small happiness by his side…
His heart had long been filled with compassion and great dreams for all of Humanity.
Suddenly coming to his senses from that soul-igniting fervor, Allen felt a cold emptiness sweep over him.
Every word he’d just spoken echoed clearly in his ears.
Enough. The performance was over.
Now comes death—or the beginning of Humanity’s salvation?
Allen looked around, a look of relief on his face.
Victor could no longer contain his excitement. He now truly believed Allen was “God’s Messenger”!
Yet just as he wondered how to serve this “Messenger”—
A thin, yet incredibly strong hand, trembling uncontrollably, suddenly seized Allen’s shoulder!
Allen turned, and saw Archbishop Lucien’s face, streaked with tears and unable to restrain its emotion.
Those ever-gray-blue eyes were now brimming with inexpressible grief, wild joy, and a fatigue that seemed to span millennia.
The Archbishop’s voice sounded in his ear, hoarse and choked, yet quivering with a long-awaited fulfillment:
“Lord Allen… we… have finally awaited your arrival…”
That voice was as low as a dream, yet as heavy as fate itself, striking at the soul of every witness:
“The path for Humanity’s return to the stars… we have already… walked it alone… for ten thousand years…”
A cold embrace. Scalding tears. A lament spanning ten millennia…
Allen stood frozen, mind utterly blank.