Surviving without God

Thus, Gunther and his group successfully obtained the information from the tablet.

— ...Hm. Sleep well.

Gunther covered Seraz’s peacefully sleeping face with his coat. After all, she was a high-ranking officer of the Public Security Bureau, and it would be awkward for her if people saw her in such an indecently drunk state. He also didn’t forget to slip a hangover cure potion into her pocket. As for the bartender, he told him to wake her thirty minutes after they left.

— In the end, I didn’t even have to intervene, — Levain let out a disappointed chuckle and patted Gunther on the shoulder. — I thought you were a pure fighter... but you turned out to be a kind of strategic weapon.

— ...You flatter me.

— No, not at all. Gunther, what did you say to her that Seraz Bolton handed over the tablet so obediently?

Gunther felt a little awkward.

— ...She was going to hand over that data from the start. Whoever went in my place would’ve succeeded.

— Hardly. At the very least, the handoff wouldn’t have been this peaceful. Seraz is the kind of person who hates everyone except law-abiding citizens.

Parco, standing beside them, poured oil on the fire, praising Gunther:

— It’s all thanks to his face! If the guys from the Information Department found out, they’d be biting their elbows in envy.

— ...The Information Department?

— All you have to do is dance once in the ballroom of the Upper City, and valuable intel will fall onto you like autumn leaves!

[“Alphonse of Red Street” nods along]

With a suggestive smile, Parco added:

— Who knows, maybe later they’ll assign you a mission like that. Like I said, Fourth Platoon missions are always bizarre and unpredictable.

— ...I hope that day never comes, — Gunther shook his head, not waiting for Parco to finish.

Social dancing. Even that role as a slick host had been hard enough for him. If he hadn’t occasionally remembered Ryan... or rather, the way that big guy hit on waitresses, it would’ve been a lot more awkward.

“Still... either way, it went well.”

As a result, he had grown closer to Parco and Levain, proved himself, and successfully completed the mission. The abilities of those two were also top-notch.

“Neither of them has ordinary talents.”

Versatile special abilities with unique mechanics. They would be extremely useful in future scenarios.

“I wonder what those two I’m meeting tomorrow will be like.”

Rumor had it they were unbelievably strong fighters. Gunther called out to Levain:

— You said the other two members of the platoon would join us tomorrow in the Labyrinth?

— Ah, about that...

The faces of the mercenaries who had been laughing darkened at once. Levain stopped and lowered his voice.

— I took a quick look through the data on the tablet...

— And?

— An unforeseen variable appeared.

The information on the tablet had been carefully curated. The main content, as expected, concerned the detailed composition of the armed forces mobilized by the Luthien Theocracy, their numbers, and their deployment routes. However, according to Levain, mixed in among them were figures of an unexpectedly high caliber. The main force of the Cult of Abundance—beings whose ill repute had been infamous for a long time.

— “The Twelve Table Companions.” Two of them arrived in the city.

— What...? — Gunther’s brows drew tightly together.

“Why are the ‘Twelve Table Companions’ already here? Aren’t they supposed to be in the metropolis right now?”

His sharp reaction was justified.

The Luthien Theocracy was divided into seven orders centered around the Seven Evil Gods: Light, Abundance, Healing, Protection, Trust, Judgment, and Rest. Among them, the Border City fell under the Cult of Abundance, and the “Twelve Table Companions” were the elite of the elite within that cult. Combat apostles who held spots within the top ten of their order’s hierarchy, and who ranked among the top one hundred combat units of the entire Theocracy. Of course, they didn’t reach the level of the “Seven Grandeurs” or their direct descendants, but these were clearly not characters who should be appearing in the middle of the first act.

[Luthien Theocracy Influence in the Border City: 10 322]

Under normal circumstances, they were bosses that appeared only when Luthien’s influence dropped below 7,000 and the “Luthien’s Gaze” branch activated. Now he was intensely curious what this “Divine Relic” was, and which god it belonged to, for it to bloat the scale of the story this much. And why something so important had never shown up in the game’s official plot.

“What matters, too, is which of the Twelve arrived. If it’s the eldest or the youngest among them...”

The probability that the scenario’s difficulty would skyrocket was extremely high. While Gunther was thinking, Levain continued his explanation:

— Originally, we planned to enter the Labyrinth late at night so we wouldn’t cross paths with Luthien’s forces, and meet the others inside.

— ...We don’t have that luxury anymore.

— Right. It’ll be risky, but we’ll go in as soon as the Labyrinth opens. The very first opening in the morning.

— And the platoon? We need to inform them of the change of plan in advance through comms.

— Well, we’ll have to make contact already inside, — Parco answered for him. — Over the past few days, the concentration of Kaldium particles has been unusually high. You can consider communication with the inner part of the Labyrinth completely severed right now.

Trying to lighten the mood, he continued in an easy tone:

— Come on, don’t worry so much. Those two are way tougher than us. Maybe they’ve already killed everyone in there and they’re just waiting for us to show up.

— I’d like to believe that.

The three of them stopped at a fork in the road. Parco yawned widely and stretched his neck.

— Gunther, we’re heading back to the shelter to analyze the data and revise tomorrow’s operation plan.

— You’re probably exhausted. Should I help?

Levain shrugged.

— No, forget it. That’s the duty of the senior ranks. Besides, I’m the temporary leader. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

— ...Temporary leader?

— Anyway, you already worked your ass off today. Go get some sleep.

Parco gave Gunther a friendly pat on the shoulder, and Levain nodded in farewell. The atmosphere was starkly different from their first meeting that morning. Gunther could clearly feel it: they had begun to see him as a “comrade.”

— Welcome to Fourth Platoon again! — Parco raised a hand with a grin. — See you tomorrow... hell, it’s not even tomorrow anymore. See you here in five hours.

Of course, it would take time for that trust to become truly deep. But even this result was enough.

— See ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) you, — Gunther replied.

.

.

.

Psh-sh-sh—

The “Operate Link” comms device in his ear, silent all this time, came to life when Gunther had almost reached Brody’s house.

[Gunther]

As always, the voice was devoid of intonation, mechanically distorted. Then came a short, concise phrase:

[I have a request for you]

* * *

A week earlier.

Ding—

A clear bell chime spread through the streets. Citizens, gathered into small groups, moved toward their destinations along strictly established routes.

Ding—

At the end of the route stood a cathedral whose walls were adorned with sacred visages of the seven gods like magnificent frescoes. It was a perfectly ordinary afternoon in Agnor, the holy capital of the Theocracy.

— I follow the words of the most pure Luthien and his six brothers.

From the cathedral’s open doors flowed a gentle male voice. Pure and full of dignity, it seemed as though it had been born in the heavens themselves.

— Their light pierces all things and purifies even shadows. He who follows their will shall be guided by grace, but he who resists it will not escape retribution.

Merciful and pious... yet beneath that prayer lay fanaticism and intolerance. Hundreds of worshippers offered their prayers in silence, never taking their eyes off the man on the dais. He was the “Archbishop” of the Cult of Abundance, who had recently enjoyed immense popularity in the capital.

— Remember. The words of unbelievers are sweet, but their roots grow from darkness. The blood of heretics flows silently, but in the end it will touch the Lord’s tongue.

His elegantly combed silver hair glimmered softly in the sunlight. His features were perfectly balanced, like a statue. His deep, gentle golden eyes gave the illusion that even a fleeting glance was enough to receive forgiveness for all sins.

— Children of light, live righteously. Do not breathe in unison with the darkness.

The mass ended to the rapturous response of the flock. The Archbishop of Abundance stood with a devout, sacred air, seeing the believers off.

Creak—

The moment the last worshipper left the cathedral...

Bam—

The temple doors slammed shut. A dim twilight instantly settled inside. For some reason, the light that filtered through the stained glass vanished, and only a few candles flickered soundlessly in the emptiness.

— ...You’re late.

Only then did the man slowly turn and head for the hidden passage behind the dais. Beyond it opened a colossal banquet hall—one whose existence the worshippers never even suspected.

It was a bizarre place. Incredibly tall arched vaults, long rows of tables and chairs—everything was sized in a way that strangely exceeded human proportions. The tableware was neatly arranged, but no food was visible. Only stains and scratches testified that a feast had seemingly just ended. In front of him, people waited with their heads covered in white cloth.

— Since the feast is already underway, I’ll be brief.

— ........

The Archbishop passed the nodding figures in silence and sat down in the center of the hall—on the only chair suited to human height.

M-m-m! M-ph!

Muffled groans came from the kitchen, but no one turned their head in that direction. The Archbishop spoke:

— You have all surely heard the news from the Border City.

The voice was low and soft, but a hidden chill ran through it. Nothing like the tone he had used during mass.

— What we believed had been eradicated long ago. Remnants we thought had been wiped out and destroyed...

He paused for a moment. His gaze grew murky and old, falling into harsh dissonance with his youthful appearance, as if he were recalling events from a distant past.

— The objects of those liars have been found again.

A heavy silence descended.

— It has not yet been determined whose hands are behind this. However, there is a high probability that the remnants of the “Society of Forgotten Books” have begun to stir. They are the sort who would stake their lives on a phantom hope.

The Archbishop’s voice trembled slightly with anger.

— Those foolish heretics still believe. They believe their false gods must return, that buried memories are truth, and that the evil we tore out by the root is the answer.

The “Table Companions,” hidden beneath snow-white cloth, nodded silently.

— Because of this, the decision has been made to dispatch you.

The Archbishop’s gaze slowly shifted to two figures. The eldest and the youngest.

— ........

Both bowed their heads in silence. The silent march was declared. The Archbishop looked at them with satisfaction.

“Yes, we left the Border City unattended for far too long.”

In the past, crushing the “Society of Forgotten Books” had been the correct decision. But a new organization had taken its place—“Night Raven.” And the recent disturbances, small and large, that, judging by all appearances, had been orchestrated by them... Of course, it still didn’t affect the overall picture, but the premonition was unpleasant.

“We must act decisively. This place must be taken into our hands.”

The Border City. Geographically, it was the forward line dividing the Kingdoms Alliance and Badland. But Luthien craved not only territory—it craved the flows that ran within. An enormous human traffic exceeding the population of some nations. An economic scale comparable to an entire state.

“And the Labyrinth.”

The irreplaceable resources that could be obtained only there would become a great pillar for Luthien’s global plan.

“...And our Cult of Abundance must become that very bridgehead.”

Until now, the city’s ruling circles had been hostile toward Luthien, so they hadn’t forced an expansion of influence. But they could not delay any longer. If the Border City fell into their hands, the drawn-out war of conquest would come to an end.

“And when Luthien’s flag rises above the continent—”

At last, their names would be carved once more upon the face of this world. The Border City was the key and the shortest path. Dispatching the “Table Companions” would be a great first step. ...And above all, it was where his “treasure” was hidden.

— ...His Holiness has entrusted this matter to our Cult of Abundance. We must not, under any circumstances, betray his expectations.

Rustle—

Only after those parting words did the Archbishop rise from his seat. The time for his daytime rounds was approaching.

— In that case, enjoy your meal.

By the time his voice fully dissipated, the groans from the kitchen finally fell silent.

Clink!

In that moment, as if on a signal, the “Table Companions” with their heads covered in white cloth simultaneously lifted their cutlery. One of them tapped a gilded tray and shouted the “dish” name in an ecstatic voice:

— Elio Barn!

— Elio Barn!

The editor-in-chief of the newspaper “Where the Shadow of Light Goes,” who had clawed at the case of serial disappearances in the capital until the very end. The last sentence of his life would be finished with a period between their teeth.

— The taste will surely be disgusting, — one of them muttered with a crooked grin. At last, the pre-meal prayer was spoken:

— Hunger belongs to us, but satiety belongs to Him. Jean Daet, accept the offering.

Crunch—

The sound of bones being wrenched, the sound of flesh tearing, and something breaking out from inside to outside began to ring out from behind the table, one after another.

— A-a, ah, a-a-a-a-a!

The appearance of Elio Barn—the main course—on the table happened at the same time. The banquet began.