"That... that's the Church of Morte. Why are they here?"
"No idea."
Turncoat Rook asked, but there was no way I could have known the answer either.
"Surprising. I thought their arrival was part of your plan."
"Unfortunately, it's not."
"Really?"
Turncoat Rook gave me a peculiar look, but regrettably, this time it really wasn't my doing.
'Of course, using the Church of Morte to strike at the Turncoat King wouldn't be a bad method…'
But that would only work under my meticulously crafted plan.
A factor like this, acting beyond my control, was nothing more than a nuisance to me.
The Bone Lord's domain was vast.
This was due to the Bone Lord's overwhelming presence; no beast or creature dared to approach, and thus such an expansive domain had naturally formed.
To think that there were uninvited guests in the Bone Lord's domain besides us—it was hard to believe.
Who was the Bone Lord?
Though the Turncoat Queen serving beside the Turncoat King would refuse to admit it, the Bone Lord was recognized as being superior even to the King—a pinnacle among all bone-parasite monsters.
Naturally, unless it was something as exceptional as this hunt, hardly any beast or creature would dare to encroach upon his territory.
And yet, the Church of Morte had brazenly violated it.
'Was it a coincidence?'
Needless to say, the Church of Morte's intervention in the Bone Lord hunt was never supposed to happen.
These hunts didn't occur frequently to begin with, and there was no reason for the Church of Morte to get involved.
'And yet they moved…'
If something that shouldn't have happened did happen, then it was likely just another one of the countless butterfly effects I had caused.
Unfortunately, I had no way of knowing exactly what butterfly effect led to this.
The Church of Morte.
Even I didn't have much information about them.
They worshipped monsters and beasts.
They could grant and wield strange powers called "blessings."
And for some reason, they were hostile to all humans in this world, including those in Ark.
Yet the true objective of the Church of Morte was still a mystery.
The same went for me.
Even in The Defense community, filled with eccentrics and theorists, their purpose remained a subject of wild speculation.
'Then did the Church of Morte act now because it's related to their true goal?'
The simplest guess was that they didn't want the Bone Lord—one of their deities—to be hunted…
But that doesn't explain why they didn't interfere during previous hunts.
Sure, Bone Lord hunts were rare, but that didn't mean there weren't other variables to consider.
'Tsk.'
Thinking about it here wouldn't solve anything, so I turned my attention elsewhere.
Understanding the Church's purpose was important, but dealing with the present reality took priority.
[Screee…]
[Hark, hark!]
The Church of Morte, now revealed, launched a fierce attack on both the Bone Lord and the Turncoat King's armies, which had been locked in a near mutual destruction.
From what I could see, there were easily hundreds of them.
And every one of them appeared to be elite, at least priest-class.
Thud!
RUMBLE RUMBLE!
An array of blessings erupted, and the outskirts of the Bone Lord's domain were swiftly cleared.
The remnants of the Bone Lord and Turncoat King's forces, worn down from battle, had no chance against such elite forces.
Then, I saw it.
The emblem they bore.
'That emblem… Gaishara, huh.'
The Church of Morte's Gaishara Branch.
One of only three branches that possessed one of the Church's sacred relics—and now one of only two remaining.
In short, among the many branches of the Church of Morte, it was one of the most powerful.
They were the ones I had glimpsed from a distance while part of an Ark investigation unit.
Still, something didn't add up.
The Gaishara Branch wasn't exactly nearby.
Sure, compared to other major branches, it was relatively close—but not enough to justify their mobilization.
["…Things just got messy."]
Esther, who had remained silent due to the intense battle earlier, finally spoke.
'Well… Maybe it was naïve to think it would be easy in the first place.'
["Wait—did you think hunting the Bone Lord would be easy?"]
'I was expecting more than just that.'
["…What? What do you mean—"]
Regardless of Esther's dumbfounded expression, I assessed the situation.
Even though something was clearly unfolding in the Bone Lord's domain, the intel available was extremely limited.
'For now, I'll just have to watch how things play out.'
The Turncoat King's side seemed to reach the same conclusion, slowing down their battle as the Church of Morte's intrusion altered the landscape of conflict.
'For now, I should regroup with the Turncoat King's side.'
Although we weren't fully allied, now was the time to act as such.
They were likely thinking the same.
"Regroup with the Turncoat King."
"Is that wise? Even with things as they are, they might still stab us in the back."
"So could we."
"What? Are you saying—"
Turncoat Rook grinned, his expression twisting into a savage smile.
"Good, I like that."
"Even if you beg me later, there's no running away."
"That's the idea."
In the past, I might have hesitated—but ever since he absorbed part of the Bone Lord, Turncoat Rook had been brimming with confidence.
Of course, considering the Turncoat King had done the same, the power gap hadn't exactly closed.
'Still, we are getting closer.'
A battle between bone-parasite monsters.
In this kind of battle, unless one side is completely destroyed, both inevitably grow more alike.
If Turncoat Rook, Knight, and Bishop—all relatively weaker—could survive, they could gain power far beyond anything they previously had.
"Then… let's go."
Thanks to the Bone Lord's attention being drawn to the Church of Morte, we reached the Turncoat King's side with little resistance.
"You've arrived."
Unexpectedly, all those known as turncoats in Ark had gathered in one place.
A gathering of turncoats.
If Ark had seen this scene, it would have upgraded the threat level of turncoats to the highest degree—but Ark wasn't here.
"Judging by the situation, this wasn't your doing, was it, Pawn?"
"If it were, I would've picked a better time."
"Hmm… I suppose so."
Said the Turncoat Queen.
"What do we do now? As you can see, this isn't the time for half-hearted mind games. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Yeah."
The Turncoat Queen clearly grasped the gravity of the situation—there was no need for petty power plays.
"Whatever their reason, I doubt the Church of Morte is here to do us any favors."
"Agreed."
Strictly speaking, turncoats were still monsters, so the Church of Morte had no reason not to treat them as enemies. But I didn't bother pointing that out.
Like Esther, turncoats and spirit-types often spoke as if they were human.
Whether it was simple deception or something else—I didn't know.
"The best option would be to abandon the hunt and wait for the next opportunity. No need to risk it with so many unknowns."
"That is not acceptable."
It wasn't the Turncoat Queen who answered.
It was the Turncoat King, who until now had remained imposingly silent, now speaking directly to me for the first time.
"Why? Given the situation, wouldn't it be wiser to withdraw and regroup?"
"Unacceptable."
"Then don't you think you should provide a good reason?"
The Turncoat Queen intervened.
"Mind your tongue before the King, Pawn. Even if you do not currently serve him, that may not always be the case."
"I'll think about it when the time comes."
"…I believe I told you to watch your tongue."
Just as the Turncoat Queen flared up, the Turncoat King stepped between us.
"I will explain."
The Turncoat King said.
I hadn't expected him to actually provide a reason, so I listened quietly.
"If we don't end this now, the Bone Lord will recover and seek new prey to grow stronger. That will make the next hunt even harder."
"What's that got to do with me?"
"It does—you are human from Ark."
"…Are you saying the Bone Lord might attack Ark?"
"There is that possibility."
As far as I knew, the Bone Lord had never attacked Ark directly.
But that was before the butterfly effects I had triggered.
Now that even the Church of Morte was in motion, nothing was off the table.
Even if it hadn't happened before, the Turncoat King's warning couldn't be ignored.
Assuming it was a warning.
"…I see. So, what you're saying is, if the Bone Lord attacks Ark, it'll be because you lead him there."
There was no real reason for the Bone Lord to stray far from his domain to strike Ark, even with its power.
But if the Turncoat King moved—if he led the Bone Lord there—it would change the battlefield entirely.
Ark would become a war zone, caught between two incomprehensible monsters.
"I won't deny it."
The Turncoat King nodded.
"This battle ends here. It must."
Rationally, his argument made sense.
Those with shared interests should band together to eliminate both the Bone Lord and the Church of Morte.
But…
"That won't be necessary."
"What do you mean by that?"
The Turncoat King's veiled threat simply reaffirmed what I already knew.
The Turncoat King was dangerous.
Too dangerous to let live.
"…Your Majesty!"
As the Turncoat Queen cried out in alarm, sensing something was wrong—a dark-glinting flash erupted.
===BREAK===
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