The Case of Being Reincarnated as a Heretic Mob Character in an Eroge Where Everyone is Extremely Determined - Chapter 65

Chapter 65: Which one is better?

As I interacted more with the villagers, I had opportunities to engage with the children.

Perhaps they are sensitive to unknown things or strangers because they quickly surrounded me as I walked outside and bombarded me with questions.

“Oniichan, where did you come from?”

“…From the forest”

“The forest? Are you an elf, Oniichan?”

“What’s an elf?”

“Eh? You don’t know?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s weird!”

The conversation was disjointed like this the whole time.

However, children have an exceptional ability to sense things, and they were kind to me, even though I had lost my memory.

Despite being wrapped up in bandages, I was at a loss when he suggested we play.

It had already been a week since the injury. Upon unwrapping the bandages, a healthy body—though not the peculiar bruise that looked like an abnormal suture mark—revealed itself.

Makena-san even gave permission for light exercise.

When playing with the children, they would swing sticks around, pretending to be swordsmen.

When I took up a stick to face them, I felt a strange sense of exhilaration and satisfaction in the swordplay, akin to the sensation of familiarity when fighting a Magical Beast.

If it’s not my arrogance, could it be that I was a swordsman before losing my memory?

That would explain the scars all over my body.

However, I have no clue about the reason for the single line that seems to cut through the midline or the marks on the fingers of my left hand.

“It’s almost time for prayer!”

“Let’s go, let’s go~!”

As soon as the time approached noon, the children threw away their sticks and ran towards the familiar monument.

Among the adults like Makena-san, the children knelt down, and a hushed silence replaced the noise from moments before.

I also mimic them, acting appropriately.

There’s an atmosphere that demands it, a sort of peer pressure.

Makena-san and a few other villagers who know me say, “It’s okay to just go through the motions since you’re an outsider.”

“Is this monument the shape of a god?”

“It’s said to be, but I don’t know the details. I’ve heard that the seven Executives who first received their powers created this statue.”

The ancient Orthodox Executives encountered a god in their dreams and obtained magical powers.

I see, so the monument that represents the god they saw has been passed down to the present day.

If I were to describe the unusual appearance of the monument… It looks like a collection of geometric patterns forming a human shape.

The part that would be the face doesn’t have clear shadows; it’s blurred like a mosaic.

The build of the body, which could be perceived as either female or male, seems to possess the majesty befitting a transcendent, singular deity.

“O supreme and absolute god in heaven, grant salvation to us, the frail.”

As Makena-san uttered these words, a silence so profound that even breathing seemed to be restrained flowed around us.

It was so quiet that I wondered if everyone had actually stopped breathing.

Although I could somewhat mimic the prayer rituals, I was not at all prepared in my heart to be a Kenneth Orthodox Believer, so I held my breath and patiently waited for the prayer to end.

After a few minutes had passed and the villagers began to disperse, I relaxed my stiff posture and plopped down on the ground.

The one true God, huh?

I haven’t seen the real thing, but since it’s said that Kenneth Orthodox’s seven Executives were given magical powers, I can understand why they have been worshipped for so long.

It’s thanks to the seven Executives that the country has been protected from Magical Beasts, disasters, and in recent years, the fierce attacks of the Heretics.

As their reputation rises, naturally, their devotion to the one true God also skyrockets.

While looking up at the monument, I suddenly think to myself, are there no other gods in this world besides the one true God?

I’ve heard that the Heretics also have seven Executives who wield magical powers.

If there are no other gods in this world besides the one true God, then from whom did the Heretics receive their power?

I feel that even if I ask Makena-san, who has answered all my questions so far, this particular question won’t be answered immediately.

“Makena-san, the leader of the Heretics is a human named Aaros, right?”

“Ah, yes, that guy is the cult leader.”

“Who gave him the magical powers?”

“…Well, according to their own statements, they spout some nonsense about Aaros-sama granting them powers. In reality, it might be some evil deity or something that gave them their power.”

The full extent of the Aaros Temple Order was shrouded in a veil.

Its history should be shallow enough to be completed in a quarter-century, yet it has amassed power that can rival the Kenneth Orthodox, which is currently the Holy Nation Geluid itself.

It’s bizarre that a religious organization, only a few decades old, can produce ‘wizards’ and stand against the national army-like Orthodox forces. Or rather, it’s definitely strange.

There must be something going on behind the scenes.

History becomes the persuasive power of mystique.

There is meaning in being continuously worshipped over a long period of time.

The Aaros Temple Order lacks that. The apparent lack of mystique in a new religion is probably due to the lack of persuasive power of history.

The emergence of ‘wizards’ as an example of mystique born from a long history and faith—I was convinced of that while learning history from Makena-san and the villagers but thinking about the Aaros Temple Order makes my head a mess. Truly ‘anomalous’.

Even in this world where there is still much I do not know, its name exudes a presence, heavily taking root in my mind.

“Aaros Temple Order… they’re human scum.”

Makena-san’s voice grows harsh.

It’s a natural reaction for her, having had her son taken away.

However, it seems she still has unresolved questions about the Heretics, and she always becomes more talkative when the topic comes up.

“First of all, where does the Heretic recruit their people from? Kenneth Orthodox is the parent body of Holy Nation Geluid… in other words, a force that can oppose the state, so they must have a considerable number of people.”

“That’s true, but isn’t the Heretic repeatedly kidnapping children? I’ve heard that there are also those who join the cult out of curiosity. Perhaps their supply of personnel is surprisingly sufficient?”

“At that rate, there’s no way we can replenish the personnel we lost in the clash with the Orthodox soldiers. The rate at which we consume time is far too fast compared to the time it takes for people to grow. There are rumors that they’re conducting brainwashing education, but I’m sure they’re doing something far more horrific than that.”

“What do you mean by―― Ow!”

Suddenly, a headache strikes.

It feels like an electric current running through my head.

A memory flashes behind my eyelids: being submerged in a container filled with green liquid, with tubes connected all over my body.

The moment I see that hallucination, I almost lose my sanity and find myself clutching at my throat.

(What was that just now…?)

After losing consciousness for a few seconds, I suddenly lift my face and notice that the entrance to the village is unusually noisy.

Looking over, it seems that the villagers who went to the nearest town to seek help have returned.

The boy who had been napping near us sees this and starts running around the village, shouting, “They’re back!”

As the villagers gather one after another, we see the gloomy expression on the face of the man who returned and realizes that the request for assistance didn’t go well.

“…I’m sorry, everyone. I went and talked in detail, but… it seems it will take at least four days from now to dispatch a squad.”

The man continued his report with a pale face. Although he had rushed into the garrison in the town, it seemed his story was only half believed.

The criteria for the Orthodox Army to take action are whether a large horde of Magical Beasts has actually been confirmed or whether Magical Beasts have caused actual harm.

Since no groups of Magical Beasts have been confirmed near this village, it is difficult for the Orthodox Army to take action.

As for actual harm, I am the one who has suffered it, but since I have lost my memory, I am an outsider of unknown origin.

Perhaps they thought my presence and story has become a lie, so it seems that the Orthodox Church has lowered the priority of our request.

Hearing this, I was dismayed, and my shoulders dropped.

Have I dragged everyone down again?

No one says it, but the hate towards me is definitely increasing.

It’s not unreasonable since the village started suffering from damage from the Magical Beast as soon as I arrived.

However, being exposed to this atmosphere after nearly a week of making acquaintances and becoming familiar with faces felt like a knife being twisted in my heart.

“Damn it! Do the higher-ups of the Orthodox Church think it’s okay to put a remote village like ours on the back burner?”

“It’s almost a miracle that we haven’t been attacked by a large horde of Magical Beasts until today. To have to wait another four days is impossible…”

“If only an Executive would come to our aid, it would alleviate the anxiety of the Magical Beasts…”

“Pfft, the Executives are too busy with politics and Heretic hunts. There are plenty of other villages like this one…”

Just as the man who cursed had said, the Orthodox Army was indeed overwhelmed with various tasks.

Given the current situation where they relied heavily on soldiers, this village had no immediate solutions at its disposal.

And as if to reinforce the thought that had crossed my mind, another villager interjected.

He too was breathing heavily, his face drained of color.

“We’ve got more bad news. A large number of Magical Beast tracks have been found around the village… We could be attacked tonight.”

Upon hearing this second piece of news, the villagers’ expressions fell as if they had been plunged into the abyss.

Reactions varied from those who slumped down motionless to those who, in their despair, could do nothing but pray.

Some villagers had started to prepare for escape, but realizing they had no prospects for survival if they abandoned their hometown, eventually, everyone gathered in front of the monument of the one true God and began to pray.

“Oh, God…”

“Please save us…”

They might be praying to God like Kenneth Orthodox, unable to completely abandon the hope of being granted power as in ‘Seven of Dawn.’

But miracles are called miracles because they don’t happen conveniently.

For now, it’s safe to assume that no help will come from God.

――It’s up to me to do it.

As the day waned and the village began to dissolve into darkness, I picked up the sword that was sleeping in the barn.

Holding a torch in one hand, I borrow ointment and bandages from Makena-san’s house.

All the villagers have holed up in their homes. This gives me free rein to rampage as I please.

I swing the sword a few times, feeling somewhat accustomed to handling a weapon, and gain confidence.

It’s about time I started to crave meat.

I’ll kill the Magical Beasts.

…….

Because Joanne has exchanged ring fingers with Oakley, she can pinpoint his exact location at any time.

Moreover, due to the profound connection between their minds and bodies, Joanne is even able to sense a glimpse of the emotions he is feeling.

However, the fact that she can sense Oakley’s heart means that she can also feel the cannibalistic urges that arise within him…

“Nooooooo”

A beautiful girl, whose hair had grown a bit longer and who had become even more bewitchingly attractive—Joanne Sagamix—was writhing face down on her pillow.

A few months earlier, after Oakley had lost both his memory and consciousness, Joanne had a handful of Believers, including Alex, transport him.

They released him at the starting point of the operation as soon as there was a sign of him awakening… But Oakley had been acting strangely ever since he woke up.

Yes, it seemed as if the preferences of a certain someone had somewhat transferred onto him.

“Ugh, this is the worst. It would be fine if Oakley dyed in my own colors… I shouldn’t have conceded to that idiot Stella… My Oakley is… being tainted by that idiot’s disgusting fetishes…”

Tossing and turning, tossing and turning.

The girl, whose slender legs were so pale that her capillaries were visible, fluttered her legs and rubbed her cheek against the ring finger of her left hand, the remnant of her beloved, with almost a sucking motion.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Oakley. I know you don’t want to eat human flesh. I understand that. But I can’t help you right now… Please, don’t be led astray…”

There were various reasons why Oakley’s mission’s starting point was set on the outskirts of a frontier village.

The most significant reason was to have him experience firsthand how imperfect the Holy Nation Geluid is by traveling through villages and towns under the control of Kenneth Orthodox.

The village was neglected even when suffering from Magical Beast damage, and some churches were so corrupt they no longer functioned—thus, the religious leader himself devised a special tour for the next Executive, Oakley-kun, to traverse such realities, and that’s why Oakley’s journey began in the forest.

Joanne also agreed with this plan.

Oakley’s heart is leaning towards Kenneth Orthodox.

She thought that if he saw the imperfect state of Kenneth Orthodox, he would become confused about what to do.

In other words, she hoped that he would become devoted to Joanne’s plan to ‘create a small world’.

Ultimately, he will destroy the Holy City Sasfect of Holy Nation Geluid with his own hands.

Whether his memory will be restored or not is up to fate, but if the assault on the holy city is successful, his heart will be torn to shreds once more, and he will have no choice but to depend on his beloved Joanne.

If one believes in his bad luck, his memory will probably return at the worst and best timing.

If everything goes according to plan, the plan will be completed.

Joanne had been confident in this, continuously sensing Oakley’s condition, but she was shocked to realize that he had started to lust after human flesh.

She quickly became frustrated when she figured out the reason.

“Damn it, damn it all. Stella Belmont… a psychopath like you shouldn’t be messing with Oakley… And Oakley, damn it, why are you being influenced…”

While suppressing the urge to throw rocks at Stella, who was watching the progress of the plan from the northeast branch, Joanne continued to wet her pillow with tears.

It has been several months since Joanne and Oakley were separated.

Her mental state is somewhat unstable.