Not long after parting ways with Johan, Dietrich returned once more to the Hereticus Marquisate.
It was because he suspected Kult would be there.
He wasn’t certain….it was just a gut feeling. And that intuition turned out to be correct.
“Kult.”
“Yes… you came, Dietrich. I had a feeling you would. Just a faint hunch, really.”
Having spent so much time together, the two knew each other well.
Dietrich had thought he didn’t know anything about Kult. But in truth, that wasn’t the case.
“What the hell are you thinking?”
Dietrich’s first reaction upon facing Kult was to shout.
Seeing Dietrich trembling with overwhelming betrayal, Kult lowered his head.
“Do you remember Caron and Asher?”
“What?”
“Risha, Roen, and Baron?”
“What are you talking about…?”
“I remember them all. But in my memories, every one of them wore the same expression. It was one of pain.”
“……”
“The warmth of the hand that held mine when I couldn’t see, the gentle voice that guided me… All of it was buried beneath the sight of that one moment.”
He remembered every single moment.
Just as he engraved the beautiful memories in his heart, he etched in the horrific end as well.
They died for reasons as meaningless as:
Because they stood out.
Because an especially cold winter arrived.
Because they couldn’t get medicine.
They died for things others took for granted.
Because they were born in the wrong place. Because of someone’s greed.
Cowardly and greedy adults took everything from children who had nothing but their lives.
“I remember the moments when those kids spoke of their dreams. And I remember the moments when those dreams were shattered.”
“So what? You think those kids would be grateful just because you created some paradise? Do you even realize how many people you’ve—!”
Dietrich’s voice grew louder.
With every word exchanged, the once-close bond between Kult and Dietrich who were longtime childhood friends began to fall apart.
Dietrich could understand Kult’s feelings. And Kult could understand Dietrich’s as well.
But understanding wasn’t the same as acceptance. Dietrich couldn’t accept Kult’s actions, and Kult couldn’t back down. Their conversation could only run in parallel.
The emotional rift deepened. Frustration and desperation appeared on both their faces.
And watching that entire exchange…
Helena silently observed.
Kult was alone.
A penitent man, quietly walking the path he had chosen.
My brother won’t stop.
Even though he was suffering and grieving, Kult never looked back.
He had come too far.
Unless he reached the end or died along the way, he would keep going.
And Dietrich can’t kill him.
The two of them were desperately trying to convince each other.
Yes, convince—not kill.
Neither of them wanted the other to die.
Because they were old friends.
And so, one sought understanding. The other, atonement.
Then there’s only one way left to stop big brother.
Helena gripped the sword Dietrich had laid down.
The two were too caught up in their argument with accusations and debates flying back and forth to notice what Helena was doing.
If I want to persuade him…
Dietrich’s sword felt unbearably heavy in Helena’s hands.
But she could vaguely feel it.
There was no other way.
Kult was dogmatic.
He held a clear and unwavering ideal.
To persuade someone like that, blindly opposing him wasn’t enough. You had to present a better alternative.
And to do that…
First, I need to understand exactly what kind of ideal my brother is dreaming of.
Helena was destined whether she liked it or not to awaken as a sacred relic.
Her body was gradually transforming into a vessel, and her soul was beginning to fade.
Her fragile body was slowly killing her soul from the inside out.
If that was the case, then this had to be the way.
Before she completely vanished, she had to shatter the vessel and preserve her soul.
Helena gripped the sword tightly.
Please… let this choice not be wrong.
With sword in hand, Helena prayed that by sacrificing her life, she could finally bring Kult’s long wandering to an end.
***
Dietrich was probably confused.
He tried to convince Kult because he believed Kult was wrong.
But the very person who should have been the victim took her own life.
It could even be interpreted as her supporting Kult’s ideals.
“Then I guess it’s my turn to talk now? Honestly, whether Kult brings down a god or not…I don’t really care.”
It’s not something I could judge.
How could someone like me, just an average person, possibly judge a madman trying to save the world by summoning a god?
So I fought this battle with only one goal in mind.
Clumsily, and in a way that didn’t even feel like me, I rolled through the dirt to reap the seeds I had sown.
“All I want is to save Helena. We’ve come too far for either of us to pretend this isn’t our problem.”
“But Helena is already…”
“No. It’s not too late yet.”
“Senior… I personally confirmed that Helena’s heart had stopped.”
“Yes, that’s all. But what if….what if we had something to replace her heart?”
“Senior! Please, get a hold of yourself! There’s no such convenient—”
Dietrich trailed off and his eyes widened as he seemed to realize something. Yes, he would know.
“Ex Machina…?”
On the day of the Under Chain’s attack, the thing I pulled out in front of Dietrich wasn’t just a gun.
“We already secured Helena and have begun transplanting the artificial heart. But there’s probably one thing missing.”
“One thing…?”
Even with a transplanted heart, Helena wouldn’t come back to life.
Not because it’s impossible like Kult said. But because the final piece hasn’t yet come together.
“Helena’s soul is inside Kult’s relic. If we can get it back, then we can save her.”
The moment I heard the full story from Dietrich, fragments of forgotten memories returned to me.
In Kult’s paradise, I met Helena. And she told me why she was there.
“To do that, we have to take down Kult. But I can’t do it.”
“Kult…”
“Right. It’s the only way to reclaim Helena’s soul from the relic.”
And the only one who can do that now was Dietrich.
No one but him could kill the current Kult.
Well… maybe one other person.
Emperor Abraham.
Maybe he could kill Kult in his current state.
The destructive power Abraham wields rivals even Dietrich’s lingering strength.
“But… do you really think this is what Helena wants?”
Yes. Helena had stabbed herself in the heart and taken her own life.
That alone could be seen as her making a choice.
“Did she look like someone who wanted to die, to you?”
“…No.”
“Then there’s no problem. I don’t know what Helena’s plan was….but if death was just a means, not the end, then bringing her back should be well within our rights.”
At my words, Dietrich lowered his head. He still seemed deeply conflicted.
Even if left unsaid, Dietrich surely understood.
To retrieve the relic from Kult… meant killing him.
“Dietrich, I’m not going to force you. This is your decision to make. I know full well that Kult is your friend.”
Even without relying on game knowledge, anyone could tell from Dietrich’s usual behavior and words.
He genuinely considered Kult a precious friend.
“We’re still inexperienced. We don’t need to feel burdened by talk of saving the world or protecting everyone. That kind of thinking isn’t normal for people like us. And if we’re at the point where we’re obsessing over it, the world’s already as good as doomed.”
So, we don’t have to save the world.
“And no one knows whether the ideals Kult dreams of are right or wrong.”
Maybe, just maybe, it really is a literal paradise. A paradise where everyone can be happy.
Even if Kult committed countless sins, his ideals were still rooted in genuine goodwill.
“This is a question with no answer.”
A person may be guilty, but their dream isn’t necessarily a crime.
At least, that’s what I believe.
What we’re carrying now isn’t the fate of the world.
“Helena or Kult. Who do you want to save?”
It’s nothing more than a choice based on deeply personal feelings.
***
Lobelia felt a sense of helplessness.
Kult was far stronger than she had anticipated.
Feels like I’m looking at His Majesty…
Her attacks failed to land a single effective hit, while Kult, with nothing more than a few effortless swings of his limbs, threatened Lobelia’s life.
If she kept forcing herself along such a dangerous tightrope, she could occasionally land a blow on Kult’s body.
However, no wounds remained.
She couldn’t even damage the edge of his clothing, let alone leave an injury. Because Kult’s divine power healed everything.
“You’ve grown too distracted.”
Boom!
Kult brought down a pillar of light upon Lobelia.
The beam of light, which had begun shining on her like a spotlight, solidified into a single, fixed form.
Wholeness through divine power. A power that anchored phenomena in the present moment.
“Let’s end this now.”
Kult swept his hand through the air once more.
It was a light motion, like brushing aside a curtain in front of him.
But the result was far from light.
Spears of divine power began swirling toward Lobelia, threatening her from every direction.
“Kh…!”
Lobelia hastily pushed her abilities to the limit in response.
Red lightning tore through even the wholeness enforced by the divine power, intercepting the spears that rushed at her.
Crack!
But the destructive power contained in her crimson lightning only allowed her to negate affinities and force the battle into a pure contest of strength.
Even in such a contest, she was being completely overpowered in terms of output.
“Haa…”
What she lacked, she made up for with her body.
Lobelia resisted however she could, smashing and deflecting the divine spears with the martial arts she had honed over time.
Even so, the tips of the spears grazed her skin and carved into her flesh.
Crash!
Just when Lobelia thought she had somehow dealt with all the spears—
She was suddenly slammed to the ground, as if crushed by an invisible weight.
“It’s the weight of things we take for granted simply because they’ve always been there.”
There hadn’t been even a trace of divine power.
Lobelia realized that what was pressing her down was light itself.
Blinding radiance wasn’t the only form of light. Everything visible to the eye existed because light had touched it.
“What is this…!”
If she were to destroy even that kind of light, then all that would remain would be darkness.
But even then, the light would keep flooding in, endlessly driving out the dark.
Still, Lobelia struggled desperately to lift her body.
“You still intend to go on? Isn’t it about time you gave up? You understand by now, don’t you? That there’s a vast gap between you and me.”
It hadn’t even been a proper fight from the start.
The only reason Lobelia had managed to hold out until now was because Kult hadn’t yet fully adapted to his power.
“Well, I suppose it wasn’t all bad. I’ve gotten more comfortable with this power. Thanks to you, I might be able to bring forward the ritual to summon the god.”
With those words, Kult raised his hand and clenched the empty air.
“So let’s end this, Lobelia Vicious von Miltonia.”
Lobelia was horrified by what she saw.
The world had crumpled around Kult’s hand, as if it were a piece of paper being crushed.
He had seized and fixed the very light that reflected off the world, capturing it in place with his grip.
Screeeech—
Kult’s hand began to move, little by little.
The light that had been striking Lobelia from above now descended toward her.
It was a grotesque sight.
The world itself seemed to shift with Kult’s hand.
In the void left behind by the torn fragments of reality, only darkness remained.
Lobelia felt fear; true fear. Even she, who had spent half her life on the battlefield, could sense it with startling clarity.
But just before that light could consume her—
“……!”
Slice!
A single streak of lightning tore through the light, cleaving it apart.
The cluster of light that had gathered in Kult’s hand returned to its original place.
The pitch-black darkness was once again filled with brilliant, multicolored light.
Fsshh—
Amid hair as dark as the night, a glimmer of blue starlight shone.
In that moment, the memories of a boy’s journey were etched into the world like an old scar.
“Dietrich… Why have you come back now?”
“To save Helena.”
The tip of his sword did not waver as it pointed at his longtime friend.
“I’ve come to bring you down.”
It was the moment the long wandering of a boy who had lost his way finally came to an end.
***
TN: Let’s go Dietrich
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