Turning-Chapter 906

“You brought quite a few friends with you today. What’s the occasion?”

The glint in his eyes, brooding like a cornered beast, clearly carried the intent to intimidate both Gloena and Lusan. But surprisingly, neither of them faltered easily.

‘Well, I expected as much from Gloena—she’s a fortuneteller from a wandering troupe, used to dealing with all kinds of people... but Lusan has gotten noticeably stronger than before, too.’

It was true Gloena didn’t seem particularly confident in her current abilities. But that was beside the point. She was someone who had survived countless interactions with strangers while reading fortunes during her time in the troupe. Even in her past life, she rarely showed any emotional vulnerability when facing people. That trait didn’t seem to have changed.

Lusan hadn’t always been this way either. But after being violently attacked by Naham and recovering, he had clearly hardened in many ways. That wasn’t just a hunch.

‘I had even prepared a response just in case they panicked or reacted to this bastard’s attitude... but it’s not needed.’

When those he tried to rattle with fear didn’t react at all, Aton furrowed his brows in unexpected surprise. They might appear to be harmless herbivores at a glance, but anyone affiliated with the Cavalry shouldn’t be underestimated.

It was time to make that point very clear to him.

“If we go by your own words—your comrades died to ‘shake the balance of the South.’ You remember them, don’t you?”

Yuder pulled the chair in front of Aton and sat down, opening his mouth. The ones he was referring to were those who infiltrated the Southern base of the Star of Nagran, seeking cooperation, only to choose self-destruction before they could be captured by the Cavalry.

“Afterward, we found out that the words they shouted before dying were actually prayer phrases appended at the end of Southern Nation rituals. It was strange—an odd thing to scream at death—so we asked around, including the priest here, and many others.”

“......”

“Well, we haven’t gotten a definitive answer yet. But this priest here did raise one interesting point.”

Yuder turned his eyes slowly toward Lusan with a relaxed demeanor.

“What was it you said then, Priest?”

“...War is a human matter. Throughout history, countless wars have taken place across the continent, but those who believe in gods have long held an unspoken rule never to invoke their god’s name in human wars. For us who follow the Sun God, that has always been a given. But from what I know, it was the same for you, followers of the Black Moon.”

This wasn’t a widely known fact now, but it had been an officially discussed topic long ago between the Sun God Order and the Black Moon Church. A thousand years ago, after both sides barely survived near ruin, they held a formal summit in the name of their respective deities.

The Sun God side had their Pope at the time, and the Black Moon was represented by someone from the Udakwan. Much of the record was lost, so no one could say exactly what was discussed or even why such a meeting took place anymore.

However, what was certain was that following that meeting, both sides established an unspoken rule to not intervene in human wars, focusing instead on preserving their faith within their own boundaries.

In those early days of the Empire—something unimaginable now—there had been temples of the Black Moon spread across the land, and even records of Udakwan moving freely. Some modern theologians and historians speculated that perhaps the Black Moon faith had once been widespread throughout the continent, not limited to the Southern Nation. Of course, such topics were now strictly taboo under the Sun God Order, making further research impossible.

The senior priest Lusan often consulted believed that exploring and understanding such ancient records was important, both historically and spiritually. He had once shared this story with Lusan in great detail, along with the following words:

“—Lusan. I won’t ask why you suddenly became curious about the Udakwan and the Black Moon Church. But it seems to me you think of the Udakwan as exceedingly dangerous. From what I’ve studied, though, their core principles and roles are not so different from ours. Their methods might differ, but ultimately, they prioritize upholding the word of their god above all else.”

In other words, they, too, were driven by the divine will—just like the Sun God Order.

Of course, corruption wasn’t exclusive to one side. There were rotten priests among the Sun God’s clergy, like the elder priest Beltreil from House Apeto, who pursued personal greed over doctrine. So there was no guarantee the Udakwan didn’t have their own.

But Aton didn’t appear to be a lone zealot acting out of turn. Considering the scope of operations he conducted while manipulating Duke Ta-in, and the number of subordinates disguised as merchants, it was obvious he had powerful backers.

Once Lusan understood that much, he had thought:

“For the past several decades, even centuries, there have been countless conflicts along the borders. Yet neither the Sun God Order nor the Black Moon Church has ever stepped forward in the name of the church itself.”

“......”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“So why not this time? Why are devout followers, devout enough to recite the Black Sleep prayers as they die, suddenly breaking the command that’s been upheld for a thousand years? Why are they now out in the open, taking direct action?”

After delivering those words in a rapid breath, Lusan paused briefly, then fixed Aton with a piercing stare and continued.

“There are two likely reasons. One: the situation within the Southern Nation has changed so drastically that even the moon worshippers were forced into this horrific and destructive campaign.”

Or—

“Two: the very people planning and executing all this are none other than the central leadership of the Black Moon Church itself. ...Which is it?”

“...Ha ha.”

Aton, who had been silent until now, finally reacted. With a low chuckle that sounded almost amused, he swept his gaze over Lusan’s face with an entirely different look in his eyes.

“I never liked your temple folk. Never even set foot near one. This is the first time I’ve seen a Sun God priest up close—and you’re quite the talker, aren’t you.”

“......”

“But I see no reason to answer. Not to a follower of the sun.”

“For someone claiming to follow a god, taking the lead in bringing harm to others and stirring chaos in the world without any guilt is something I cannot comprehend. Is that really what your god teaches? Because as far as I know, that’s not the case.”

At Lusan’s calm yet slightly provocative remark, Aton’s eyes twitched almost imperceptibly.

“What do you know, to insult my god and my faith?”

“If it’s not true, why not just answer? Or is it that in your doctrine, there's no saying about how one who cannot speak truth has no right to confess with truthful lips before their god?”

Yuder didn’t fully understand the religious significance of Lusan’s reference, but Aton clearly did—his voice instantly tightened with prickling irritation.

“I have never once been untrue to my faith.”

“Then, does that mean the ones backing you really are the core of the church?”

Lusan snapped back like a fisherman yanking a hook once the fish had bitten. That one question triggered an intense exchange—a debate sharp with citations and doctrinal disputes.

Contrary to how worried he’d been beforehand, Lusan spoke fluently and firmly. Yuder, who was used to seeing him quietly studying herbs beside Inon with bright eyes, was deeply impressed by this unfamiliar side of him.

‘I had nothing to worry about.’

He was, without a doubt, worthy of being called a priest of the Cavalry. Aton, who let every question slide when Yuder was the one interrogating him, couldn’t last even thirty minutes against Lusan before baring his teeth and revealing an emotional side previously unseen.

“You twist words well. Fitting for a pack of vile usurpers.”

So much for not answering. The moment the name of god came up, he practically poured out reactions. As Lusan engaged him, Yuder observed Aton with utmost detail—each twitch of the pupils, each shift of his breath—memorizing everything.

And now was the moment Aton’s breath was at its most ragged.

Yuder spoke immediately.

“Gloena. Now.”