The Freed Slaves Are Obsessed

God is an observer.

As a creator, He made the world, but after that, He did not intervene.

Like a father watching over his child, ensuring they grow on their own. Even if they fall, even if they suffer, overcoming those hardships was the responsibility of mankind.

However, mankind lacked patience.

Amidst pain and despair, they resented God, yearning for miracles.

Why does He not answer?

Why does He not save us?

God’s silence.

It was a question everyone had pondered at least once, but it never spread beyond fleeting doubts. However, the high-ranking clergy of the Holy Kingdom had feared it for a long time.

If miracles vanished, if God's will ceased to be conveyed, if faith began to fade—

Given the Holy Kingdom’s unique nature, upheld solely by faith, such a scenario would inevitably lead to its collapse. That was an outcome they could never allow.

If God would not move, how could faith be sustained?

The answer lay in manufactured divinity.

By refining the pure power of faith and replicating miracles, they could create beings to manifest them. If they could fabricate such an existence, God’s silence would no longer be a problem.

Thus, the Apostles were born.

Among them, the most representative was Sigrid, the Flawless.

A being untouched by emotion, devoid of personal interests. An entity that followed only pure law and order, like a machine.

In Sigrid’s grasp was the Scales of Judgment, weighing good and evil. She had condemned countless sinners.

Not a chosen one of God, but an artificial creation standing in His place.

A fragment of the miracle crafted by those who longed for salvation.

And now, those very Apostles stood in the path of Karami and his group.

“It’s an Apostle!”

Apostles, who never left their assigned domains, had now gathered in one place—an extremely rare occurrence.

Their eyes, too, gleamed crimson.

“Reunion. Slave Reaper, what brings you to the Grand Temple?”

“I came to see the Saintess.”

“Denial. The very idea of someone like you meeting the Saintess is absurd. Leave at once.”

“Apologies, but the Saintess is my slave. I can’t just leave her behind. One should take care of their own belongings, after all.”

“Repetition. The Holy Kingdom is currently establishing a new order and has no capacity to accept outsiders. Leave immediately, or we will deliver judgment.”

Behind Sigrid, an ethereal Scales of Light floated into view.

The other Apostles chuckled lightly, preparing for battle.

Mirabel furrowed her brows and clenched her teeth.

“How insolent. To speak of judgment before my master? There is no one in this world who can pass judgment on my master. Not even God.”

Boom.

A furious strike of her staff, imbued with raw emotion.

Magic erupted like an explosion.

The Reaper, who stood as Mirabel’s protector, grew enormous—towering as high as the temple itself.

The very aura of death emanating from the Reaper caused several people to convulse and faint.

Yet, the Apostles did not flinch.

They were not as strong as dragons, but each one was powerful in their own right. Karami had faced them one-on-one before, but never as a group.

And now, not only the Apostles but the Holy Kingdom’s clergy army stood against them.

‘Can we manage this?’

Even in the face of overwhelming numbers, Mirabel didn’t bat an eye. Her dark blue mana surged, reflecting her emotions.

“Girl, I acknowledge your power. However, protecting the Slave Reaper while fighting against the five of us is impossible—even if a miracle were to occur. So—”

KWA-GAGAGANG!

At that moment—

Constantine’s voice was lost in the howling wind.

“A—A storm!”

From the eastern side of Kassilon, a massive whirlwind tore through the sky. It absorbed the dark storm clouds above, turning into a black tempest that uprooted buildings and people alike.

“1,259~”

A clear, almost playful voice, entirely unfitting for the situation.

Flames, lightning, earth, darkness, light, wind—spirits of all elements danced behind Servant, playing mischievously.

Meanwhile, from the west—

“KYAAAAGH!”

“Hiiiik?! A—A monster! Monsters are attacking!”

Oni wielding giant clubs, along with other monstrous beings, poured out through the open gates—beings commonly referred to as yokai.

At the center of it all—

The King of Yokai.

A Night Parade of a Hundred Demons, commanded by the Nine-Tailed Fox.

Hovering in the sky, Lin spread her tails like a fan, casting illusions and manipulating fate.

“50,000~”

“Hey! Even if we add up all the numbers so far, it’s not even close to 50,000! What kind of nonsense is that?! Are you trying to cheat?!”

“Hmm~? But Lin sees 50,000~! Do you have proof I’m lying?”

The original reason for coming here had long been forgotten.

Lin and Arpia were too busy betting on how many clergy members they could take down.

Chaos.

Destruction.

Oblivion.

Not a shred of order remained in the city.

Yet, despite everything—not a single person had died.

Their master’s orders were absolute.

Lin twisted fate itself, ensuring no one perished.

“...Ah.”

Karami watched as buildings were hurled into the sky, crumbling into stardust.

That was a lot of money to repair.

Though Lin and Arpia had competed for his approval, unfortunately, what awaited them was not praise, but punishment.

The disturbing part was that some of them preferred punishment over rewards.

“Oh? So that’s how it is? Those guys seem pretty tough. If I take them down, I get a million points each, right?”

“What? Where did that rule come from all of a sudden?!”

“And 50,000 makes sense? If you don’t like it, why don’t you go fight them yourself?”

Arpia smirked, biting back her irritation.

A massive Wind Servant, reminiscent of a titan’s upper body, manifested around her.

“Scared?”

A clear attempt to pressure Lin with sheer force.

But Lin merely curled her lips into a wicked grin.

A colossal, pink-tinged Nine-Tailed Fox materialized behind her.

Her Sun and Moon Eyes gleamed with eerie light.

“Hmm~? Who said I was scared?”

KIEEEEEEEEK!

The Nine-Tailed Fox roared, an earth-shaking cry that reflected Lin’s intentions.

Arpia drew her bow.

The Wind Servant mimicked her, pulling back an invisible bowstring.

Whoosh!

A bow and arrow made of wind materialized in its grasp.

The very air twisted around the arrow.

The once-clear atmosphere trembled, and the wind swirled into a violent storm.

Sigrid, who had remained expressionless until now, flinched sharply and swiftly activated her Scales of Judgment.

On one side of the scale, she placed divine power.

What she sought was a fence to protect the «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» lamb from the wolf.

Satisfied with the offering, the scales balanced. A miracle was forcibly invoked.

The Shield of God manifested.

Like a radiant barrier, it spread out around her, forming a protective wall.

At that moment—

Ting—

Arpia released her bowstring. The Servant, linked to her soul, did the same.

The arrow shot forth at an untraceable speed.

A trajectory that allowed no time to evade.

The wind howled as it tore through the world.

BOOM!

The impact between arrow and shield erupted in an explosive gust, shredding the surrounding air. A razor-sharp tempest swallowed all sound.

And yet—the shield did not collapse.

Even in the face of the storm, it remained firm, unwavering.

The soldiers exhaled in relief, clutching their chests.

“You’re not seriously thinking that’s enough to reassure you, are you?”

A mocking, melodic voice crushed their fragile hope.

By the time they registered those words—

The second arrow had long since left its master’s hands.

Fired high into the sky.

A brilliant flash, like fireworks bursting.

Green flames scattered across the heavens.

For a moment, people stood mesmerized by the spectacle—then unease seeped in.

The sky was warping.

Hundreds of arrows surged into the air, creating turbulent winds as they collided with each other—breeding new, chaotic gusts.

A storm of arrows.

‘Is that... safe?’

Would they be caught in it too?

Before Karami could even fully form that concern, a navy-blue protective barrier wrapped snugly around his body, like a second skin.

The paladins raised their shields, while priests clasped their hands in prayer. Black-and-white barriers shimmered into existence, shielding them.

Yet, even before true panic could set in—

A cracked voice whispered a prayer.

One by one, the falling arrows vanished.

“What? The arrows... they’re disappearing?”

Karami, comfortably observing from within Mirabel’s barrier, frowned in confusion.

It was like forgetting something—something important—like a fleeting memory just out of reach.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't recall it.

Mirabel, her eyes narrowed, gazed fixedly at one spot.

There stood a gaunt man, his priestly robes billowing awkwardly around his frail frame.

A black book rested in his hands.

A scripture that existed, yet was forgotten.

His miracles did not manifest God’s will—they reversed divine providence. He turned existence into nothingness, erasing it in exchange for memories.

A forbidden relic.

The Apostle of Oblivion, Anselm.

The world could not remember him.

Even those standing right beside him perceived his presence as a blur.

Even he did not know his name or past.

Because that was his purpose.

There was but one thing he remembered—prayers.

Hundreds of arrows had dwindled to mere dozens.

Though still powerful, their numbers had been drastically reduced—enough that the reinforced defenses could withstand them.

“Huh? You were acting all high and mighty, but now all your arrows got blocked?”

“Tsk. You used another one of your weird abilities to interfere, didn’t you?”

“Lin doesn’t know anything about it~? Look at you blaming others for your own incompetence~”

There was not a single trace of tension in their conversation.

But the clergy swallowed hard.

If such an attack had failed, and they weren’t even concerned, it meant that if they wanted, they could unleash something similar—or worse—as many times as they pleased.

If there was a day of reckoning, it had to be today.

The faithful prayed fervently.

Even though God did not answer, they did not doubt. They did not despair.

Because they had their Saintess.

A pillar of light descended from the heavens.

As if God Himself had descended, Elise slowly floated down from the sky.

At the sight of her, Apostles and believers alike bowed their heads.

The moment Elise appeared, both Arpia and Lin slowly wiped the laughter from their faces.

A presence on a completely different level from the Apostles.

If God were to descend, this is exactly what it would look like.

Such was her overwhelming presence.

Atop the Grand Temple’s spire, before the cross—

Elise came to a gentle halt.

With her hands neatly clasped, she smiled with divine grace.

“Welcome, travelers from beyond.

I am the Vessel of God, Saintess Elise.

Welcome to the Holy Kingdom.”