The Eve of the Trial Filled with Surprises
"Ohhh my, my..."
A voice filled with confusion echoed in the dim cave.
A shadowy figure knelt hurriedly in the direction the voice came from.
Petelgeuse tilted his head as he looked at the people in front of him, then widened his eyes and extended his fingers.
"One, two, three... thirteen, thirteen! Thirteen!!! Why are there only thirteen people?!"
A cultist broke away from the group and ran up to Petelgeuse's ear, whispering a quiet explanation.
"I see, I see... Perhaps they encountered some sort of accident on the way, yes!!!"
His previously calm face twisted grotesquely in an instant, and the Invisible Hand that emerged behind him grabbed the cultist who had come to explain.
"This is the Trial! A sacred, grand, and absolutely errorless Trial! How could—how dare—any accident occur?!
Everything, everything must proceed exactly as written in the Gospel! Forgive me, forgive my sloth, forgive the sloth of my fingers..."
Amidst the rasping screams, the sound of bones breaking, and blood dripping to the ground, Petelgeuse's sharp and insane voice echoed through the cave.
Even the deranged Witch Cultists trembled in fear at the scene before them.
"Go find—impossible, impossible..."
The cultists glanced nervously at Petelgeuse, who had cut off mid-sentence, then quickly lowered their heads and pressed their foreheads tightly against the icy ground, fearing his terrifying expression.
Petelgeuse no longer had the mind to deal with the cultists in front of him.
His Authority had returned from afar—proof that one of his "Fingers" had been lost. Something had gone wrong with the Trial.
He recalled his Authority and, with trembling hands, pulled the Gospel from his robe.
Flipping through its pages rapidly, he finally exhaled in relief.
"A trivial little problem. But even a problem of this level should not have occurred. Go, confirm the state of the encirclement, and report back to me."
At his command, the shadows of the cultists disappeared into the darkness.
Petelgeuse's brief moment of composure did not last long.
A cultist who had pursued the dragon carriage and returned quickly brought back a report he could hardly believe.
Not long afterward, he arrived at Arlam village, and pressed his face up against Betelgeuse's—so close their eyelashes were practically clashing—yet neither of them broke eye contact.
"You're saying you were asleep just now? The entire Arlam village has vanished, all your subordinates are dead, and you were peacefully sleeping inside a thatched hut—what, WHAT, WHAAAAT... outrageous, outrageous sloth this is!!!"
For the first time, the black tide formed by his Unseen Hands engulfed one of his own Fingers. Petelgeuse collapsed to his knees, crying bitterly, but the Unseen Hands still crushed his precious Finger.
"What should we do now? That, uh…"
Petelgeuse's hand slaughtered the timid cultist who tried to speak.
Then, his bloodshot eyes turned toward the crowd in front of him.
He once again pulled out the Gospel and began flipping through it—over and over, rapidly, obsessively.
"…The Trial hasn't been canceled. This is a test. A test of our love. A test to see if we are willing to give up everything for love."
"It's fine. The conclusion in the Gospel hasn't changed. The 'Fog' will fully spread tonight. The 'Fog' has sealed off the road to the Royal Capital. As for that loathsome, deranged—"
For once, Petelgeuse paused—or rather, he showed a rare moment of fear.
"No matter. The communication mirror that spans half the kingdom can't be used now. As long as the Gospel hasn't changed, this place remains the undisturbed site of the Trial."
"No, there's no need to make a big effort chasing after those fleeing villagers. They're not recorded. They're insignificant."
"No, there's no need to recall the Fingers we already sent. But there's no need to send more either. The most important thing now is the Trial—and confirming the identity of that beloved believer."
Petelgeuse sniffed the air and showed a blissful expression. Just thinking about how he would receive love from the Witch far beyond this after completing the Trial made him so ecstatic that he nearly lost his sanity.
"But still, let's avoid further surprises. Since we've already been discovered—go destroy the communication mirror."
Coming back to his senses, Petelgeuse gave the order and threw the magical tool used by the Witch Cult to counter the communication mirror to the cultist behind him.
Twenty cultists bowed slightly, then vanished into the darkness.
Petelgeuse bit his own finger, growing increasingly impatient.
He didn't know why, but he felt as though his every move was being perfectly predicted.
That feeling intensified each time the cultists he'd sent returned.
The Fingers who chased the villagers had failed—and died.
The three Fingers who pursued the communication mirror did succeed, but all they found was a ground dragon bound to it.
And then there was everything that had happened that morning...
Though everything that happened today was deeply suspicious, Petelgeuse was already mad to begin with.
And most of his attention was still focused on the Trial, so even though he felt that something was slightly off, he still did nothing—just as the Gospel instructed.
Then it happened.
In an instant, something that changed Petelgeuse's mind occurred.
The miasma of the Witch's love that filled the space suddenly began to thin.
It was a very faint change, but as a devoted mad believer of the Witch, Petelgeuse clearly perceived it.
After a moment of hesitation, and recalling the numerous unexpected events of the day, Petelgeuse launched himself with his Unseen Hand into the mansion's courtyard.
Placing his hands over his ears, then over his eyes, he scanned the estate.
"Gone? Gone! GONE!!"
In an instant, the Unseen Hands destroyed a third of the mansion.
Regaining a sliver of composure, Petelgeuse once more pulled out the Gospel—this time, his hands trembled.
—Is it really correct?
"Ah, ahh, what sloth, what blasphemous thoughts... please forgive me for—"
Scratching deep bloody lines across his face with his own fingers, Petelgeuse once again opened the Gospel, then held it high before the others.
"Behold—the merciful Witch has forgiven our sloth.
In order to repay her greatness, the sacred Trial must proceed. This is our only chance at atonement. The target lies deep within the Misty Forest of Kreimarlti, in the northwest."
The shadows bowed deeply and disappeared into the darkness. Petelgeuse looked at the fiery red sky.
After a brief silence, countless Invisible Hands emerged, slowly lifting him into the air.
Hugging the Gospel to his chest, he curled up and flew toward the Sanctuary.