"The children seem to be having a lot of fun."

Catching a glimpse from the corner of his eye of the lively scene far below in the distance from the corner of his eye, the Pope could not help but show a kindly smile, like an elder in his twilight years watching frolicking children and recalling days gone by.

But the instant he drew his gaze back, his timeworn eyes turned unimaginably cold.

Above the firmament, a faceless woman’s dress swayed; a child’s wail resounded through heaven and earth; countless blossoms and fine rain drifted down, bringing a calamity of despair.

The entire sky was tainted by an uncanny blight.

Human bodies seemed so small before that darkness.

"But then..."

Though he stood alone, the Pope met the gaze of that dreadful dark god without the slightest fear. Blood and fire stirred his beard and white hair as he spoke in a low yet forceful voice:

"To be spacing out at a time like this—even if you are a dark god—is that not excessively... arrogant?"

The Pope gripped his scepter, and his wide sleeves suddenly billowed with an endless gale.

Behind him, a golden gate roared open!

A holy, exquisite, serene, and ethereal scene emerged beyond the gate, like the terrestrial paradise promised by the gods.

Boundless holy light flowed out from the gate.

Unlike the mere strands of holy light radiated by Lea, by the saintess candidates, or even by the saintess herself, the holy light coursing out here was thousands upon thousands of times what they could display!

This was the accumulation of the Church's thousand-year legacy, the collective faith of countless believers across the continent, exchanged with the Supreme Goddess of Life in exchange for the authoritative divine grace that purifies all!

"Holy is He!"

A solemn chant arose and echoed!

Hundreds of phantasmal maidens in white dresses appeared beyond the gate, their hands clasped, their faces compassionate, their eyes devout.

They sang high praise, extolling the deity.

"Your compassion blesses the world; your gifts shine upon all corners of the earth; your revered name has supreme glory..."

"Holy is He!"

"In your name, cleanse all that is impure within creation!"

The sea of holy light surged; countless pure white crosses of radiance rose from the depths with a thunderous peal, like lances nailing into the firmament.

The uncanny spread of life-force halted at once; the grotesquely overgrown things suddenly fell into rot beneath the pure cross-shaped glow.

Beneath sanctity, decay proliferated.

Growth warped beyond the cycle was at last brought back into the cycle of life, to meet its end; the stench had no time to spread before it too was purified by the holy light.

The power of the dark god... was reversed-polluted by that holy light!

"Waaah—"

The piercing wail of a child grew even shriller; high above, the dark god enshrouded by endless holy light suddenly let go of the swaddling cloth in its hands.

The bundle fell wailing to the ground.

As it tumbled, the baby within finally revealed its true form.

——But that was no baby.

It was... a godspawn born of the dark god named Abundance!

The filth that had been gradually purified by the holy light began to rapidly contract, sucked into the godspawn’s belly.

As the godspawn fell into the sea of holy light, its cries cut off abruptly—for it exploded outright!

A vast mass of foulness raised a tempest in the sea of holy light; endless corruption and warped vitality spread swiftly like a drop of ink falling into water.

"Forced to the point you’d even abandon your own child?"

The Pope let out a mocking chuckle, then swept his scepter with a sudden flourish:

"No—creatures like you lack for many things, but not for so-called children!"

Holy light rolled back; pollution, countering the pollution—under an absolute disparity of magnitude, even a godspawn birthed by a dark god was soon utterly annihilated.

Yet the godspawn’s sacrifice did, in the end, cause the surging holy light to stagnate... for a beat.

And in that beat, the dark god bearing the honor-name Abundance suddenly sank downward!

Its purpose in descending here was never to annihilate the Church.

If a mere projection of a dark god could completely destroy the Church, then over the past millennium the Church would have been wiped out countless times already.

Therefore, its true aim this time was...

Blooming flowers fell like rain, swallowing the incoming holy light and magic, and that realm that seemed shrunken countless times over appeared before the Mother of Fertility.

That was... The Lost Land, Canterville.

It was Its pasture, Its platter. It had raised a million lambs there; after millennia of meticulous cultivation, those lambs had become incomparably succulent.

They made It drool with desire.

If It could devour them, that million carefully bred blood-meals would be enough for this projection to possess, in a very short time, power approaching Its true body.

And that ‘very short time’ would suffice for It to complete Its other... long-awaited-for-a-thousand-years, ultimate objective.

So...

Those lambs.

Those blood-sacrifices.

Those delicacies.

Must...

Must...

[Hmm?]

Suddenly, the Mother of Fertility’s downward motion stalled.

Though Canterville was already within arm’s reach, It ceased Its movement.

It tilted its head; on its featureless face, as if a puzzled gaze formed, gradually piercing the outer wall of Canterville, going deeper...

Deeper...

Deeper still...

Until... It sensed something.

Or rather... it sensed none of what it ought to have sensed, and inexplicably sensed what it ought not.

Crack.

The Mother of Fertility’s blank face suddenly split with a fissure.

Within the crack, countless dense flesh-buds squirmed madly, mirroring the fury of this dark god!

Where were Its lambs?

Where was Its Those blood-sacrifices?

Where were Its delicacies?

Such a vast pasture, a full million souls—it had, for certain reasons, left them untouched for a thousand years without a chance to feast, and now, after finally fighting Its way back...

Gone.

Not even a snap to hear—just gone.

The Mother of Fertility’s head jerked, the writhing flesh-buds in the fissure standing ramrod straight, and Its gaze finally pierced completely through Canterville’s walls; through remnants It had left behind, It saw within.

To say It saw clearly would be an overstatement.

For in Its sight—on that charred flesh-plain, atop that towering spire—It saw only one thing.

A... sun.

A sun... that illuminated all!

The crimson blaze that sun shed looked familiar no matter how It looked at it.

[With!er!ing! King!]

A terrifying howl beyond human comprehension echoed through this highest place; the Mother of Fertility’s entire projection flickered and writhed, as though unable to bear the wrath of this backstab from beyond the world.

The Pope, about to marshal power to protect Canterville, raised an eyebrow at the suddenly deranged Mother of Fertility and likewise cast a meaningful gaze toward that Lost Land.

"Heh, that kid... was meant to be just a mere contingency move, and to think he actually went and did that."

There was no need to ponder what could enrage this dark god so.

And in the Pope’s calculations, there was only one way such a thing could have happened.

"To be willing to part with power from the divine and to have the courage to bear that sin—such mettle, one can only say, befits a disciple of that old codger."

"But whatever the case, this favor counts as a debt the Church owes you. To keep you from being devoured by those sins, I must also..."

The Pope’s hand, poised to draw out the Eye of Omniscience, suddenly paused as well.

For without even looking, he too sensed something that had occurred within.

He silently put the Eye of Omniscience back, veins bulging on his forehead.

As if watching the cabbages in his own field being rooted up by some golden-haired hog.

In that moment, he too seemed to understand the Mother of Fertility’s rage.

"You bastard, what are you doing?"