Chapter 911: Anomaly

A sharp, metallic scent of blood flooded Bishop Fernando’s nostrils the moment he stepped into the room, causing him to instinctively furrow his brow, his face tightening with grave concern.

As a bishop who had once fought on the front lines himself—and who still lived by the tenets of the God of War, personally journeying each year to dangerous regions to aid local knight orders in eradicating monstrous beasts—Fernando was all too familiar with this scent.

The two clerics inside the room immediately fell silent and stepped aside upon noticing the bishop’s arrival. Fernando’s gaze swept past them, slowly taking in the spacious cleric’s lounge.

The scene was unmistakable: beds, tables, and chairs were all in their usual places. Against the northern wall stood a shrine dedicated to the God of War. On the floor before it lay a large pool of blood, still not fully congealed. At the center of the bloodstain was a grotesque mass of flesh, so mangled and fused together that its original form was unrecognizable.

Within that horrifying tangle of blood and meat, fibrous strands intertwined as if forming some kind of fascia. Coarse, bristly hairs sprouted from the gaps in the flesh, sharp and thorn-like. Scattered among the grisly scene were fragments of clothing, some completely corroded. Blood spatters dotted the floor in a three-meter square around the pool.

Even for a battle-hardened God of War bishop like Fernando, accustomed to carnage and the macabre, this sight was deeply unsettling.

“Your Excellency Fernando,” one cleric approached, bowing respectfully. “Greetings. May your heart be as steel.”

“Heart as steel, my brother,” Fernando nodded in return, his eyes returning to the grisly scene at the room’s center. He asked in a low voice, “When was this discovered?”

“Just after midnight. A night watch priest was the first to notice something amiss and raised the alarm.”

“And the priest?” Fernando’s brow tightened. “Bring him to me.”

“That priest…” The cleric’s face twisted with unease. “He’s not well. We had to use a powerful calming spell to settle him down. I’m afraid he might lose control again, possibly even attack you.”

Fernando shook his head. “No matter. I’m skilled in mental pacification as well. Bring him here.”

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

The cleric left, and moments later footsteps echoed outside, accompanied by a trembling, fearful muttering. Fernando turned toward the sound and saw two church attendants supporting a young man in simple priestly robes. The man’s condition immediately drew a frown from the bishop—

The poor soul was shaking uncontrollably, his face pale as death. Sweat beaded across every inch of his skin. His eyes were clouded with a murky, blood-tinged haze, clearly stripped of reason. He kept muttering under his breath, barely audible fragments of broken words:

“God of War’s blessing… blessing… heart of steel, heart of steel, undefeated through a hundred battles… God of War’s blessing… I have sworn allegiance, I have sworn allegiance…”

He repeated this over and over, seemingly oblivious to the bishop standing before him. Only after a few seconds did his unfocused gaze suddenly fix on the scene behind Fernando. The lifeless mass of flesh seemed to awaken his deepest terror. With a scream that no human should be able to produce, he violently broke free from the grasp of the two strong attendants and lunged at Fernando, shouting a warped, frenzied prayer:

“In the name of God! Purge the heretics! In the name of God…”

The surrounding clerics gasped in alarm. Fernando merely stepped aside slightly, grabbed the priest’s robe with one hand, and with the other elbow struck sharply. A dull thud sounded, and the priest collapsed, unconscious and limp.

Only then did the clerics react, rushing forward. “Your Excellency Fernando! Are you unharmed?”

“I’m fine, but he’ll need rest for a few days,” Fernando waved them off, his brow still furrowed as he looked down at the fallen priest. “Take him away.”

The attendants quickly carried the unconscious man out. Fernando sighed deeply. One cleric couldn’t help but ask, “Your Excellency, do you think this is related to the incident?”

“Has that priest always been like this? Constantly praying, calling on our Lord… and seeing his own brethren as heretics?”

“Yes, he was like that when we found him,” the cleric replied immediately. “He was discovered collapsed at the door, already mentally unstable, nearly killing one of the attendants. But no matter what tests we ran, there was no sign of spiritual corruption or soul curses… It’s as if he was acting out this madness entirely of his own volition.”

Fernando nodded solemnly, then asked, “Who else knows about what happened here?”

The cleric thought for a moment. “Besides those inside the church, only you have been informed… Oh, and the count’s household may have caught wind of it. They probably don’t know the details, but the fact that we sent messengers urgently and sealed the church at dawn couldn’t have escaped their notice.”

Fernando’s brow tightened further. The situation was unfolding in the worst possible way. But it was too late to turn back. He forced himself to focus on the matter at hand—the pool of blood and flesh on the floor was clearly the remains of the church’s deacon, the God of War priest named Kosto. Fernando knew Kosto well; he was a powerful supernatural warrior who would never have died without a fight, even if ambushed by a high-ranking foe. Yet the room bore no signs of struggle—no marks of combat, no residual traces of battle magic.

The mass of flesh lay before the God of War shrine, where some tattered cloth fragments remained. Aside from the clothing, there was a prayer mat, a nearly burnt-down candle stub, remnants of incense in a vessel, and an open prayer book on the table. All these details pointed to a disturbing conclusion:

The priest had been praying normally to the deity… when suddenly his own flesh had begun to dissolve.

Fernando was certain he wasn’t the only one who suspected this horrifying possibility. The gloom on everyone’s faces was thick and palpable.

And when he thought of the priest who had gone mad after witnessing the scene firsthand, the strangeness of the whole affair grew even more unsettling.

“Bishop,” one cleric finally spoke, “what do you think happened to Priest Kosto?”

“…Perhaps a powerful evil spirit invaded our sanctuary, disrupting Kosto’s prayer ritual, twisting its purpose, and corrupting his soul,” Fernando said gravely. “But that’s only my personal theory. If such a strong evil spirit truly appeared in the city, this matter must be reported to the Grant Diocese immediately…”

“The count’s household will likely send someone to investigate soon,” another cleric added. “How should we respond?”

Fernando considered briefly. As the regional bishop, he was desperate to keep this matter from reaching outside church authorities, especially the royal family and their vassals. Since Rosetta Augustus’s coronation, the Typhon royal family had tightened control over the churches. After countless overt and covert struggles, the God of War church had lost many privileges. Its priests, once independent representatives of divine authority in the military, had become mere auxiliaries under noble officers’ command. Under normal circumstances, this was already a bitter reality. If this incident leaked, it would only give the crown an excuse to clamp down further.

But the truth could not be hidden forever. Someone had to provide an explanation to the local rulers.

“Clean the scene thoroughly,” Fernando instructed those nearby. “Use holy oil and fire to purify these corrupted remains. A soul-devouring fiend infiltrated the church by possessing a human host. Priest Kosto fought it to the death, and they perished together. But because the fiend’s corruption tainted the body, the remains cannot be shown. To preserve the dignity of our fallen cleric, we will purify his body before dawn, sending his soul back to the Lord’s kingdom—that is the whole truth.”

The clerics bowed their heads. “Yes, Your Excellency.”

Fernando gave a short grunt, then glanced once more at the grisly scene. A vague sense of unease and revulsion welled up inside him again. Instinctively, he placed his hand over his chest, his right fist clenched as if gripping a sword, silently offering a prayer:

“God of War, bless me. My heart is steel, undefeated through a hundred battles. Flesh is weak, only steel endures. I shall not fall to hell. I have sworn allegiance…”

With the prayer, his mind gradually calmed. The divine power descended silently, bringing him a measure of peace.

…

That same afternoon.

A secret report, transcribed by intelligence officers and delivered via the communication tower, was placed on Rosetta Augustus’s desk. She casually opened it and scanned the contents. Her already stern, solemn expression deepened.

Matilda, sitting beside her assisting with state affairs, immediately noticed the change in her father’s face and asked instinctively, “What’s happened?”

“Another God of War cleric has died, cause unknown,” Rosetta said. “The local church claims a soul-devouring fiend infiltrated the chapel, and the cleric died fighting the monster. But no one has seen the body, nor the ashes of the fiend—only a supposed battle scene, whose authenticity is questionable.”

Matilda’s finely arched brows knit together, her tone serious. “That makes six incidents in the past two weeks…”

“Yes, six,” Rosetta said grimly. “Unknown causes, bodies destroyed prematurely, evidence full of inconsistencies…”

“Those churches must be hiding something!” Matilda said, unable to hold back. “Six mysterious deaths of clerics, spread across different chapels… The news has leaked to some extent, yet they refuse to answer the crown’s inquiries directly. What is the God of War church up to?”

“Exactly. Six chapels, scattered across the empire… The two farthest are at opposite borders. This isn’t a normal ‘attack’… There’s no force within the empire capable of such coordinated strikes, nor is it likely a coincidence of monster raids.”

“The most suspicious thing is their obvious concealment,” Matilda said, shaking her head. “But under current imperial law, we can’t search churches based on mere suspicion…”

Rosetta nodded. “We must uphold the laws we’ve established—that’s the foundation of the royal authority. But… a thorough investigation is still necessary. You should visit the Grant Cathedral soon and try to make contact with Malm. He probably won’t share much with you—after all, as the War God’s High Priest, he hasn’t approached me about the strange deaths among the clergy. But I trust your keen insight; maybe you can pick up on something.”

Matilda nodded. “Understood, Father.”

Rosetta paused thoughtfully, curling a finger to tap lightly on the table. Then, in a low voice directed at the empty room, he said, “Diana.”

From a shadowed corner, a composed woman dressed in a black maid’s uniform stepped forward, her expression calm as she faced Rosetta Augustus.

He gave a slight nod. “Send out the Wanderers to investigate the locations mentioned in this confidential report. Remember—keep it covert. Avoid any conflict with the Church, and don’t engage local officials.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The woman bowed slightly, took the note from Rosetta’s hand, and then slipped silently back into the shadows as quietly as she had appeared.

Once the room fell silent again, Matilda broke the quiet. “Father, what do you think… is going on?”

Rosetta Augustus sat quietly in his high-backed chair, lost in thought as the sun dipped lower outside. After a long moment, he sighed softly. “I don’t know. But I hope all of this is just an ‘attack’ aimed at the War God’s sect…”

Matilda glanced at her father in surprise.

In her memory, moments when he showed such vulnerability were rare indeed.

Still, she said nothing, only nodded gently.

…

As evening settled, Daniel returned to his residence.

His young apprentice, Mary, was tidying the living room. Seeing her mentor arrive, she immediately came forward with a smile. “Master, you’re home early today?”

“There’s nothing pressing in the lab for now, so I came back,” Daniel replied, glancing at his apprentice. “Weren’t you supposed to be at the War God’s Grant Cathedral with the technicians, working on the arcane network upgrade? Why are you still here?”

“We did go, but the cathedral’s clergy suddenly announced that the area we were working in had to be temporarily sealed off. So the project’s been postponed.”

Daniel frowned sharply at this. “So they just kicked you out?”

“Something like that…” Mary said casually, but quickly noticed the serious look on her master’s face. “Master, is something wrong?”

Daniel hesitated, his expression grave. “I’m not sure yet, but I’ve been hearing rumors that the War God’s Church is facing some trouble… We might need to report this to the Lord.”

(End of chapter)