Raised in Dungeon

"Archbishop Cornelius Beckingham, do you know the difference between good and bad?"

Ivaylo had been waiting for Cornelius' arrival in his room for a day. No one thought that Ivaylo was inside because the room was locked. Then, if he was after Cornelius, they didn't think to check the room at all because Cornelius wasn't in the church at that time.

'Damn it, why at a time like this?! Since I brought bodyguards, I left my Armacar in the room!

I should at least buy some time until Augustin comes!'

Cornelius answered,

"I don't know; I don't have enough time to think about that. It's a pointless question whose answer varies depending on who you ask. What is certain is that I know that you are a bad person."

Ivaylo's smile grew wider at his answer.

"As expected of the Archbishop, you know how to deflect questions. Are you usually like that with your congregation? Giving inappropriate answers so that others don't ask further questions? "For example, if someone asked you how to get rich, you would say "by praying" rather than "by working hard."

"I don't need to listen to criminal opinions like yours! There is nothing good about you or any justification for your actions. But if you repent, god will definitely forgive you. Why don't you walk the good and better path? Why must you choose the thorny path that only makes other people miserable?!"

"A better path... hmm?"

Ivaylo then twisted the archbishop's body and pierced his throat with his needle.

"Akh!"

Cornelius collapsed, holding his sore throat.

"Wh-what are you doing?!"

Cornelius' voice became hoarse; he was unable to speak correctly.

"Are you still able to speak? Fufu, your fat must be protecting your neck very well. But that's okay. This is enough to forbid you to scream. Even better, I want you to answer some of my questions."

'Questions?'

"First, about Archbishop Dormer Chaundeler, I want to know what facility he's hiding in Aisland. Do you know anything about that?"

'Dormer?! He's hiding something too?! If this guy is asking about that, he's already investigated a lot of things! But Dormer shouldn't be a party to the Norttish assassination; does that mean he's acting alone?!'

Cornelius looked surprised by Ivaylo's question. And looking at his face, Ivaylo knew that Cornelius knew nothing about it. So he moved on to another question.

"Next, what happened at Earl Wolverlope's residence? Does it have anything to do with Archbishop Benedict Spelman's request?"

"I-I don't know! Even if I did, I I I II wouldn't say anything to a criminal like you! You can kill me; I don't care about my life!"

"I see... So you knew about it."

Ivaylo then stepped on Cornelius' head.

"Aah, that feels so good. Did you know? I've always wanted to step on the archbishop's head. This is one of my 100 wishes that came true."

'You Norttish bast*rd!

"I've heard bad things about you; you're a power-hungry, honor-obsessed individual. You also always angry at knights, and priests, then take a lot of offering money to buy nice clothes. You are indeed the worst reflection of the other archbishops.

But, your excellency, I don't believe any of what they say. Only a fool would actually believe those rumors. Even a fool should know that you clearly used all that money to feed the foster priests in your church and free the slaves. It was because of your kindness that the council ostracized you. Your kindness doesn't sit well with them; they see you as a threat.

Why do you think I came here to kill you?"

Cornelius' eyes widened, realizing that someone was after his life.

'Don't tell me... someone planned all of this!' Cornelius thought.

Cornelius recalled some of the council discussions that didn't sit well with him. Sometimes they would joke and laugh when there was nothing funny about their jokes. He remembered that Archbishop Benedict once told a story about caged rabbits being blown up one by one into a lion's drum. He thought it was all a common joke that didn't suit his sense of humor. But there must be some code or deep meaning in that story.

'They hide things from me! And they deliberately tell me things I don't understand! I was so stupid not to realize everything from the start! They must have realized that I was a hindrance to them over time! Damn it!

"Just from looking at you, I know you have another reason to be arrogant. After all, there's no way a power- and honor-crazed archbishop would sacrifice himself to avoid spreading information. If you're really greedy, you must be more merciful with your life.

Then...

Since you don't value your life...

That means there are other lives that you cherish more."

'A little more, I need to buy some more time...'

"If you answer my question, I will kill you. But I'll let you live if you don't answer my questions."

'a-what?! What did he say? Did he say it backwards?'

"No, I didn't misspeak. If you answer my question, I will kill you. But I'll let you live if you don't answer my questions. In exchange for letting you live, I will kill all the foster priests in the church in your territory."

Cornelius' anger immediately peaked.

"YOU- F*CKING- NORTTISH!"

"I know your church has a lot of foster priests; what do you think having that many helpers is for? That many foster priests will only cost the church and your money, so I'll be happy to reduce their number for you.

Don't worry; killing 100 to 200 people is normal for me. You must have heard of the incident in the county of Dorkshire, right? I can do the same for your church-"

-SWUNG

Suddenly something shot out from behind Ivaylo.

"Agh!"

A bright green spear makes a hole in his stomach.

"This is..."

Cornelius then stood up. As he stood up, there was a wind crest that he had drawn with his blood underneath.

"Ta-take that, yo-you damn Norttish," he said.

"So this is… This is your god's blessing," said Ivaylo, with blood coming out of his mouth.

The god blessing of Archbishop Cornelius Beckingham, Controlling the Air. He locked himself in his room and rarely went outside the house because his god's blessing was more potent in an enclosed space. His god's blessing is to control the wind around him. By drawing wind symbols on the ground, he could spread his mana around the room, a mana that was used to manipulate the wind around him. The smaller the room, the freer he was to control the wind.

Just now, Cornelius quietly condensed the wind behind Ivaylo. Slowly and carefully so that Ivaylo would not notice.

"Now it's your turn to answer my questions, Norttish."

'I have to ask about Dormer and who sent him to kill me.'

Cornelius raised his hand, making three more spears around Ivaylo.

"If you don't answer me, I'll kill you. I will send you to the Norttish Research Center if you answer me. At least there, you can still live and reorganize your escape plan. I don't care about you now."

Hearing that threat, Ivaylo laughed.

"Fufufu, now our positions are reversed, huh? I didn't expect something like this to happen."

"Answer quickly!"

"You know, god's blessing system is very complex; everyone hides it as their ace card. The less your opponent knows about you, the better your chances in a fight.

Then, since I don't know any information about you, of course, I've prepared myself. In case something unexpected happens."

Ivaylo took out a doll from inside his shirt.

The doll was as big as his hand.

And that doll looks very similar to Cornelius.

It was tied by a thin thread connected to Ivaylo's ten fingers.

"Abare (RAMPAGE): Marisa," as Ivaylo muttered it, the Archbishop who had been stunned by Ivaylo's aura, immediately shot his spear at Ivaylo's body.

But before the wind spear could pierce Ivaylo, the spear broke, disappeared, and returned to the ordinary wind.

The spear's disappearance was not because Ivaylo eliminated it with his mana, but because Ivaylo's ability made Cornelius unable to move.

"This is a combination of god blessing and my armacar, Pain and Malice."

Behind Cornelius, a giant puppet suddenly appeared, holding his hands, legs, and neck. The doll held Cornelius like it was being overtaken.

The doll was dressed in white, green, and brown, with white braided hair. Its face was creepy, with no pupils, only the whites of its eyes. Its mouth was open as if it were screaming, and blood flowed over its eyes and mouth. Cornelius could hear the doll screaming behind him.

The doll's abdomen was open, and tons of sharp thorns were inside it.

[ILLUSTRATION]

"HEY YOU DAMN NORTTISH! YOU HAVE TAKEN MY LIFE! "SO DON'T TOUCH MY CHURCH-GOERS!" shouted Cornelius in a hoarse voice, forcing himself to speak

Ivaylo smiled and answered.

"NO"

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA"

Cornelius's face became dull, and he was pulled into the doll's body.

"ARRRRRRGH!!!!"

His screams were muffled, unable to be heard clearly from outside the doll.

"My god blessings are my needles. I have five needles in total, and each needle has a different ability.

What's troublesome about using the rampage of my weapon is... To activate it, I had to make a puppet of my opponent and put their mana into the puppet. People's mana can be drawn from their blood, so I got Cornelius' blood from the person who hired me.

If my mana has materialized herself into a puppet behind that person, the chance of them surviving is 0%"

From the beginning, Ivaylo was hired by the person to kill Cornelius; he had prepared everything to ensure his victory.

God's blessing and mana were very complex; no one knew what happened to him, even if he threatened Cornelius, so he was always careful in his plans.

Only Ivaylo knew what had happened inside the doll's stomach; Cornelius couldn't stop screaming for 5 minutes until he finally shut up.

indicating that Cornelius was dead.

...

"Oh my god, what's going on here?"

Hearing the commotion from inside Cornelius' room, Bishop Augustin immediately broke down the door, followed by the four rooks behind him.

But when he opened the door, there was no one there. The room was a mess, with blood all over the floor. Then the window was broken, indicating that someone had just jumped from there.

Augustin examined the blood on the floor. And as he strolled to the window near the desk...

"Oh, my god..."

There was the archbishop's head under the table. His eyes were removed, and his tongue drooped out.

"Thi-this is..."

"Archbishop Cornelius's head..." said the rooks who had come to see it.

Augustin immediately collapsed and sobbed.

"My God, we're too late; we should have looked harder. Why... why have you given us such an ordeal. We still need Mr. Cornelius by our side," cried, Augustin.

Moments later, people appeared at the door, taking in the chaos in the room.

"What are you doing? Don't come in!" shouted one of the rooks.

But no one heard; seeing the reaction of the crying bishop and rooks, the amount of blood on the floor, and the movements of the other holy knights, they immediately guessed what had happened.

"Don't tell me the archbishop is dead?" asked one of the foster priests outside the door. It was the foster priest whom the Archbishop had just brought to the slums.

From her question, the people behind him were immediately panicked.

Meanwhile, Augustin and the rook inside could only remain silent, not answering.

"Hey... tell me, your grace. Is the archbishop dead? That can't be true! You see, he was a very good person; this world still needs people like him. There's no way he's dead, right?" her voice trembled, and water welled in her empty eyes.

Augustin stood up, walked over to the foster priest, and hugged her.

"He's dead; he was killed by one of the Noctem Dolls. "His body was not found; let's let him go," he tried softly but failed to say, his voice still trembling and holding back tears.

The foster priest immediately pushed Augustin's body aside and looked at him with a sad face.

"You must be lying!" She then bolted, leaving.

After she left, Augustin immediately covered his face.

"I'm sorry."

Augustin's sadness affected the people around him; the sound of sobs filled the corridor.

"Who, who should I turn to… If his excellency is dead… Who should take his place?!" Augustin said it in tears.

Everyone there stretched out their hands, trying to reach Augustin's body.

"Please take the place of Lord Cornelius, Lord Augustin," said one of the rooks.

"That's Right! "Please take the lead in the wind church!"

"Lord Augustin is the most suitable for that role now!"

"We will support you!"

"Bishop Augustin, please become the next Archbishop of the Wind Church."

Augustin's weeping face turned to surprise. They meant to comfort him, and he had to accept their effort, so Augustin held back his tears and began to smile.

"Thank you..." he said.

Meanwhile, outside, the foster priest, who had run away from there, was still crying in the garden in front of the church. She could not help but accept the fact that Cornelius had passed away.

Then, someone called out to her.

"Y-you're the one who came to the slums earlier, right?"

The foster priest raised his head and saw a person with messy brown hair, a shabby body, and tattered clothes. Then he had no left hand.

"You are..."

"I-I am the peasant whose hand was split by the holy knight this morning. A-a-and I want to say thank you to Archbishop Cornelius. I-I want to change and become a better person. Can I talk to him? I want to serve him. I don't mind being his slave," said the man with a warm smile and enthusiasm on his face covered in dirty ashes.

Seeing that smile, the foster priest burst into tears again. She couldn't bring herself to tell the man that the person he wanted to serve was already dead.

...

In a dark place, Ivaylo held his stomach, which was perforated with pain. It was the hole of Cornelius' wind spear. The blood did not come out too much; he used amnis to stop the bleeding. But the pain didn't go away, and the amnis probably wouldn't last long.

Then Ivaylo heard the sound of footsteps in front of him; the rhythm of the footsteps was that of someone he recognized.

"Leader, did you finally make it? It looks like your injuries are quite severe."

"Elinor... it would be cute if, for example, you showed a worried reaction."

"I will do so if you command."

"That's cold; I want you to do it without orders."

"Well... I might be worried if it was your real body. But you're just wearing a doll's body, right?"

"But even though it's a doll's body, it still very much hurts. If only my needles had painkillers..."

The place was the basement of the capital's slums. There was little light coming in from the holes in the ceiling.

"Leader, regarding this time's job. Who did you receive it from? Who hired us?" asked Elinor.

"Eeeh? I don't want to divulge the client's secrets."

"I see."

"Hm? That's a concise answer, Elinor. I expect you to be more intrigued and beg me more."

"There is no way you will expect that. You know I will never do that."

"Well, I'll say it, we're friends, after all."

Ivaylo smiled and looked at Elinor's face, then he continued.

"The one who asked me to kill Archbishop Cornelius was...

His Grace, Augustin Thornburgh, the Bishop of Wind Church, and probably the next archbishop and new council."

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