Surviving without God

— Ahh... gooood.

The boss of the Twilight Leg gang, the one-armed Regan. These past few days, the city had seemed exceptionally beautiful to him.

— Very good.

Once, they had been nothing more than one of countless gangs in the Lower City. A shabby little operation dealing cheap drugs and extorting “protection fees” from merchants. But ever since divine grace had touched them... Regan’s life had turned 180 degrees. With satisfaction, he stroked the magi-engineered prosthetic attached to his left shoulder.

— The VIPs will be coming out in about an hour. Prepare the carriage.

— Yes, sir! Should we move the basement victims immediately as well?

— Not yet. We’ll transfer them after the inspection is complete.

— Ah... Have a pleasant inspection!

The subordinate grinned, flashing a lewd look.

People sell people. Regan felt not the slightest aversion to it. It had been far too long since a human being meant anything more to him than a source of income.

— Their lives are over anyway. Showing a bit of courtesy and putting them to use before they rot completely—that’s the least we can do.

He slowly pulled out a cigarette and, leaving the bustling subordinates behind, headed toward the basement. Before his eyes, as he descended the dark staircase, piles of gold coins shimmered—payment for this shipment.

‘Maybe I should save a little more and buy a villa in the Middle City?’

For someone born in the slums, that was the symbol of true success. Just as he indulged in sweet fantasies—

Thud—

Something attached itself to his back. Regan didn’t even have time to flinch or turn around. An emotionless voice pierced straight into his ear:

— You’ve got a magi-engineered prosthetic. So I assume you understand perfectly well what just stuck to your back.

Beeee—

A sinister signal rang out. Only then did Regan realize: he couldn’t see a single one of the underlings left in the basement as overseers. In the middle of the quiet stairwell, the blood in his veins instantly ran cold.

‘...How?’

How could someone have gotten inside, past such heavy security?

— W-who... who sent you?

No answer came. In front of his eyes there was only a crude mechanical device. Barely breathing, Regan stared at the detonator.

— Wrong. You should be asking a different question right now.

— ...W-what do you want?

— There we go. Much better. It would be a shame to die now, wouldn’t it? You’ve probably accumulated quite a bit of savings.

Regan didn’t dare turn around. The click of the detonator button echoed in his ears like an auditory hallucination.

— Now I’ll tell you what you’re going to do.

Not a single curse. But there was something in that voice that made even the thought of resistance evaporate. Unshakable certainty that the entire situation was under complete control. Regan squeezed his eyes shut.

— I... I’ll do anything. Just let me live.

— Good. Do as you’re told, and I’ll spare your life.

And as if to seal the reassurance, he added:

— ...I promise. On my father’s honor.

***

Beeeeee—

A thin, alien sound cut through the sacred silence. The priest raised the ritual dagger and froze.

‘What was that?’

The sound did not repeat. He must have imagined it. He tightened his fingers again and lowered his gaze to the sacrifice.

‘I need to focus.’

Beautiful golden eyes stared back at him. There wasn’t even a trace of fear of death in them—only burning hatred and contempt. The priest felt that prickling excitement again.

— ...A magnificent offering.

The ritual dagger slowly moved toward her long ear. He intended to savor the ritual, beginning by severing elven pride.

Beeeeee—

...This time the sound was distinct. The priest lowered the dagger and frowned toward the door.

‘An alarm?’

He had just instructed Boss Regan not to interrupt the rite under any circumstances. The fact that the alarm had been triggered meant an emergency had arisen—something the gang couldn’t handle on its own. The priest’s eyelids twitched.

‘What’s going on?’

He hurriedly rose and, lumbering with his heavy body, headed for the door. Just as he grasped the handle to check—

Bang!

The door flew open, and someone rushed inside before he could pull it himself. The priest didn’t even have time to grow angry at the insolence.

— V-VIP guest! We’re under attack!

It was a gang member whose face had been turned into a bloody mess. Despite his size, he trembled, pale as a sheet.

— Attack...?

Indeed, beyond the threshold, a red light flashed anxiously in the corridor. The priest instinctively stuck his head out to look around. But there was no clash of weapons, no screams.

— It’s so quiet, and you call this an attack?

— I-in the basement... where the victims are locked up. Our men were found dead. Looks like someone crawled in through the ventilation.

— ...What?!

Only then did a red light flash in the priest’s mind. A certain pagan organization that had recently been obstructing the Theocracy’s operations came to mind.

‘Could it be...’

No. This transport must not fail. If problems arise, there will be an investigation. And what if they uncover the existence of the “special sacrifice” he had concealed?

No matter how many merits he had, the higher-ups would never forgive that. Without hesitation, the priest broke into a run.

— The victims... where are the victims now?!

— Th-they’ve started moving them outside...

The gangster didn’t get to finish.

Rumble—

The sound of the warehouse’s main gates opening echoed. The priest screamed in horror:

— Idiots! Why are you taking the victims outside?!

— B-boss’s orders. Said it’s dangerous to stay in the warehouse...

He understands nothing! In this area, the warehouse is the safest place. A security system worth a fortune had been installed here, and the terrain was ideal for defense. The most reasonable course would have been to gather all victims in one place and hold out for reinforcements.

But loading them into carriages and sending them out? That was practically an invitation to Night Raven: “Come and take them.” The priest hurriedly asked:

— Where’s Diego?

— D-Diego? Who’s that...

— The one who came with me!

At that moment, a strange expression flickered across the bandit’s face. Everything was unfolding exactly as his “friend” had ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) whispered. He delivered the prepared answer:

— If you mean the other VIP guest, he’s searching the building with the boss for the intruder!

— No... acting alone at a time like this...

Diego was a capable paladin. But Night Raven was a dangerous opponent. They needed to regroup immediately. Having reached that conclusion, he barked at the still-hesitating bandit:

— What are you standing around for? Take me to him!

— Y-yes. This way!

The bandit, bowing low, hurried after the priest... and at the same time, the tip of his boot nudged something beneath the door.

.

.

.

And immediately after they left—

Click—

In the dark room, the sound of shackles unlocking rang out clearly.

“.......”

Golden eyes fixed on the small note attached to the ring of keys.

***

[Special Ability: “Lizard’s Wall Walk” active. Remaining time: 78 sec.]

In the corner of the warehouse, concealed in the shadow of towering cargo stacks, Gunther calmly observed the unfolding situation.

‘Good. Everything’s according to plan.’

While the priest prepared for the ritual and the paladin indulged in his perverse hobbies, Plan Z steadily took shape.

The organization’s boss, turned into a puppet, personally triggered the alarm. The reason—corpses of guards found in the basement.

— I’ll inform the VIP guests myself. Move the victims outside first!

The gang members obeyed without hesitation. Then the boss went to the paladin. Under the pretext of helping search for the “intruder,” he lured him away from the children.

...The first condition for complete victory was fulfilled.

‘Ryan handled the priest perfectly.’

Lure the priest out and pass the stolen shackles’ keys to Dimona Ryen. Ryan executed it flawlessly. As expected from someone who would smash himself to pieces before failing a task.

Thus, the safety of Dimona Ryen and the other special victims was secured. If she followed the note’s instructions, she would soon move everyone to safety and then support the upcoming battle by overriding the systems. As for the basement victims loaded into carriages—their safety was guaranteed as well.

‘I sent them straight to the building where Moon Wolf is waiting.’

Even if his principle was non-interference, he would deal with that somehow.

In summary: All victims in the warehouse were now safe. No one had died.

[Alphonse of Red Street declares that your cunning reminds him exactly of himself in his youth]

[The Drug-Addicted Saint snorts. Says you must take after your mother’s side(?)]

[The King of Ninety-Nine Defeats advises you not to relax—nothing is over yet]

[However, the corners of his lips twitch in a smile]

Yes. The King was right. One thing remained. Gunther looked down where the commotion was beginning.

[Special Ability: “Lizard’s Wall Walk” active. Remaining time: 45 sec.]

The puppet was carrying out his final task: bringing the paladin to the designated location at the designated time.

— I-I think I heard something over here. The men saw someone suspicious.

— ...Useless trouble, damn it. If there’s no one there again, I’ll cut off your useless eyes and ears.

— S-sorry.

And the bastard, drenched in sweat, completed the hardest assignment. He led the paladin directly beneath Gunther.

— Diego! You’re alive!

Right on cue, the priest appeared at the end of the corridor. Behind him, Ryan slipped quietly into the shadows. No need to worry about him—no one survived better than that guy.

‘My turn.’

Gunther took a deep breath and slipped his hand inside his coat.

Click—

The moment he gently pressed the detonator button, a faint beep echoed through the corridor again. Reactivation of the bombs that had been disabled to avoid detection. The paladin and priest, unaware, continued their conversation.

— I didn’t see anyone on the way.

— I keep missing him too. Where is he hiding?

— Damn it, maybe it’s a diversion... Have the victims sent outside returned yet?

— That’s Regan and his men... Wait a second.

Their expressions froze instantly.

— What is that sound?

Pi— 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

The intuition that something was wrong surfaced too late.

— Could it be... — muttered the paladin Diego.

The moment his hand reflexively reached for his sword—

— Aaaaaah!

A trembling Regan lunged forward, wailing pitifully:

— I... I did what we agreed! Please, let me li—

K-BOOOOOOOOM!

With a monstrous roar, the floor heaved upward and the entire corridor twisted. The shockwave nearly ruptured eardrums. A pillar of raging flame and a rising cloud of dust swallowed everything. At the moment the space filled with fire and debris—

[Special Ability: “Lizard’s Wall Walk” active. Remaining time: 0 sec.]

Gunther fell downward. The explosion was powerful enough that Regan’s body should have been reduced to ash. But—

‘Both alive.’

He saw it clearly. Just before the blast, a black barrier had unfurled from the priest’s hands. Protective magic of the Cult of Abundance. Even a rare-rank magical bomb could not penetrate that shield with lethal force. One defining trait of the Cult of Abundance was precisely its powerful defense.

...Which meant this was the decisive moment.

The instant they felt relief at surviving. The second when they had exhausted their strength blocking the explosion!

Whoosh—

Cutting through dust, smoke, and flame. With his sword raised, Gunther descended upon the priest from above. A sudden strike from the ceiling. The sensitive paladin detected the threat first and shouted:

— Maruna! Above!

.

.

.

[Level Up! / Lv. 42]

[Agility 33 → 34]

Gunther smirked as he tore the blade from the priest’s fat-swelled nape. Blood trickled down his cheek where a last-moment offensive spell had grazed him, but he felt no pain. Only indescribable exhilaration that the plan had succeeded surged along his spine.

— So your name’s Maruna? That’s a pretty cute name for a pig.

The paladin stared at him in shock. Gunther kicked aside the priest’s limp corpse and straightened.

The corridor, sealed off by a wall of roaring flames. Faint screams and shouts in the distance. There was nowhere to run. No more orphaned children to take hostage.

Yes.

It was time to finish this.