Chapter 459

Chapter 459
The altercation involving Heinrich, who was visiting as an invited guest, and Walter, a sacred combatant representing the Quelladia Church.

Fortunately for those involved, the sudden skirmish—or rather, the physical conflict—was cut short before it could truly escalate.

“Please regain your composure, Brother Heinrich…”

“Cease this! You’ve gone far enough! Step away!”

“Drop your weapons immediately! Engaging in physical violence outside of sanctioned duels is strictly outlawed here in the Pantheon!”

This disturbance had not taken place in some isolated, hidden corridor.

It had occurred directly in front of the primary administrative offices of the committee, entirely exposed to public view.

Minor arguments arising from trivial insults were commonplace in this environment, but when matters degenerated into genuine physical aggression, the authorities viewed it in an entirely different light.

Consequently, Heinrich possessed only a very narrow window of opportunity to strike before external forces intervened.

Yet, that brief interval proved entirely sufficient for him to permanently imprint a brutal lesson regarding proper conduct into the flesh of his adversary.

When the dust settled, despite the fact that his opponent had been completely knocked out and hastily transported away on a medical gurney, no official disciplinary action was taken regarding the confrontation itself.

The onlookers merely exchanged bewildered glances, stunned by the revelation that Heinrich, an individual renowned exclusively for his monumental reservoir of holy energy, had completely dominated an elite, master-tier sacred combatant using nothing but raw, unadulterated physical strength.

Given the prominent location of the fight, it was common knowledge among the witnesses that Walter had not only initiated the verbal harassment but had also thrown the opening punch.

“Have you been filled in? The representatives from the Quelladia Church have instigated yet another disturbance.”

“At the very least, they are currently aligning themselves with the overarching objectives of the Pantheon. Exiling them completely might simply incentivize them to ally with Pandemonium, which would generate far greater complications for us down the road.”

“As the ancient proverb dictates, a traitor within the walls poses a far greater threat than a foe outside them. Or perhaps it is a matter of keeping your adversaries in closer proximity? It might be considerably less hazardous to retain them here where we can actively oversee them.”

“Nevertheless, they crossed an unacceptable line during this particular encounter. We will simply have to wait and observe what disciplinary measures the governing committee chooses to enforce.”

Because a vast multitude of distinct religious sects had been closely monitoring Heinrich’s arrival, intelligence regarding the brawl disseminated through the ranks with incredible speed.

The Pantheon operated as a grand alliance founded on the core principle of welcoming any deity that was not fundamentally and irredeemably malevolent.

Even though the Quelladia Church publicly claimed to possess moderate views, their underlying theology skewed undeniably toward darkness, causing the general community to react to the incident with a collective sense of predictability.

“So, what will be their next maneuver under these circumstances?”

Naturally, because an act of open violence had transpired, the pre-arranged conference with the high-ranking members of the executive committee was indefinitely pushed back.

Confined to the isolated visitor chambers allocated to him, Heinrich stared through the window pane, lost in silent reflection.

‘Regardless of how I analyze the situation, something feels entirely unnatural. An unseen hand is pulling the strings from the shadows.’

Even without delving into the finer complexities, that fundamental truth was glaringly obvious.

Initiating a confrontation with Jason, an individual with whom they shared a documented animosity, could perhaps be rationalized, but deliberately expanding that hostility toward a neutral observer who was merely standing nearby?

That defied logic.

‘Using Jason was nothing more than a convenient pretext. The trap was sprung specifically for me from the very beginning.’

Furthermore, crossing paths with Walter in that precise location was highly unlikely to be a stroke of random happenstance.

They had almost certainly engineered the scenario, lingering in that exact corridor to manufacture the illusion of an accidental meeting.

‘What is the underlying purpose? What do they stand to gain by focusing their hostility on me?’

An array of distinct hypotheses cascaded through his thoughts.

The issue was not a lack of potential motives; rather, there were far too many plausible explanations.

It could be a preemptive strike meant to neutralize Heinrich, who possessed the potential to entirely destabilize the delicate equilibrium of power among the ruling factions.

Alternatively, it could be a covert operation orchestrated by the surviving loyalists of the Oath of Reverse Heaven who remained embedded deep within the hierarchy of the Pantheon, persisting even after the banishment of their administrative official.

It could even be a manifestation of zealotry, fueled entirely by diametrically opposed theological doctrines.

Within this hazardous sanctuary—which, despite bearing the title of the Temple of All Gods, functioned as a chaotic vortex where genuine spiritual devotion mingled restlessly with raw greed, personal ambition, and conflicting ideologies—practically any motivation could be justified.

‘I refuse to let myself be manipulated like a pawn by an anonymous conspirator operating in secret. Before anything else, I must accurately identify who stands with me and who stands against me, while simultaneously comprehending the internal dynamics of this environment.’

By disrupting the established order so violently, the individuals orchestrating the plot would ultimately be forced to reveal their intentions in one way or another.

Furthermore, this disruption provided him with a valuable window to harvest domestic intelligence—there was an abundance of logical justifications for his actions.

‘Of course, it had absolutely nothing to do with me losing my temper because I felt insulted.’

Could someone of Heinrich’s immense stature and personal pride truly turn to physical violence so effortlessly over a mere verbal slight?

…Perhaps a microscopic, entirely negligible element of petty resentment had influenced his response, but the action was certainly not born out of unprovoked hostility.

The exact moment Heinrich concluded his habitual internal rationalization…

A sharp tapping sound reverberated through the space.

The auxiliary forces he had been anticipating had finally arrived at their destination.

He threw the doorway open without a moment of hesitation, and…

“Ah! This magnificent presence, this utterly overwhelming sacred energy! You are, without a shadow of a doubt, the true Saint!”

“Incredible—O supreme Main God. To be permitted to gaze upon the Saint from such a short distance… and to experience this on Earth, of all imaginable worlds…”

…he offered his customary, practiced smile to the assembly of clerical figures who began showering him with adulation the instant they beheld his countenance.

He could perceive the identifiable holy essence radiating from their forms.

Encountering an identical spiritual frequency to his own triggered an involuntary wave of deep internal gratification.

‘My compatriots originating from Outerica. Clerics serving the Church of the Main God.’

This location was the Temple of All Gods, a centralized convergence point for diverse belief systems originating from an infinite number of realities.

While Outerica was recognized as a relatively newly formed realm, the existence of active Main God practitioners within this sanctuary was by no means an astonishing revelation.

“We have no moments to squander—let us address the core matter immediately.”

The moment Heinrich guided the visitors inside and altered his tone, the chaotic assembly instantly assumed a posture of profound, reverent attentiveness.

Not a single individual among them had ever interacted with him face-to-face prior to this day, yet not one harbored any skepticism regarding his status as the chosen Saint of the Church of the Main God.

The immense, uncontainable volume of sacred authority flowing from his physical form acted as an undeniable confirmation of his identity.

‘My primary objective must be to transform these guaranteed sympathizers into a highly organized, functional unit.’

And acting in his official capacity as the supreme Saint representing the Church of the Main God.

The designated mortal instrument selected by the Main God Himself.

The celestial representative tasked with manifesting His supernatural interventions upon this terrestrial plane—

He willingly accepted his role as the spiritual bridge binding the congregants to their divinity.

GREAT BLESSING ACTIVATED Wings of Radiance The brilliant illumination manifested the grand enchantment: Wings of Radiance.

In that precise moment, the dimensional limitations and suppressive forces that the clerics had endured while transitioning between realities were entirely dissolved through the intervention of the celestial conduit.

“This is beyond comprehension. An absolute supernatural event! The capacity of my holy energy…!”

“O grand Main God! A spiritual bond that had grown faint has suddenly become completely restored! To think this would manifest on Earth, of all places…!”

“That magnificent manifestation—could it be the appearance of a celestial entity…?”

Their internal capacities, metabolic restoration rates, and comprehensive physical parameters instantaneously reverted to the peak conditions they enjoyed within their native dimension.

Beholding this grand display of supernatural authority from such proximity was more than enough to transform their somewhat faded devotion into an absolute, roaring inferno of spiritual conviction.

The sheer splendor of a deity capable of projecting absolute power across different planes of existence stood in stark contrast to the localized entities of this world.

How could any of them harbor even a microscopic doubt regarding His infinite supremacy after witnessing such a display!

“Harken to my words.”

The deep, commanding tone that shattered the silence carried the absolute weight of a heavenly decree.

“This particular reality is currently teetering on the brink of an absolute catastrophe. To avert this disaster, I require your unyielding cooperation.”

The deeply affected clerics cast themselves onto the ground simultaneously in a display of absolute submission.

Having looked upon a genuine supernatural manifestation, every lingering trace of uncertainty vanished from their minds.

Nothing remained except the deep, silent intensity of absolute fanaticism.

Consequently, the dedicated zealots departed without making a sound, scattering throughout the various sectors of the Pantheon after absorbing the strategic directives delivered by Heinrich.

◇◇◇◇◇◇

‘This is highly problematic.’

The isolated individual concealed within the shadows uttered a quiet, weary breath.

His frustration was entirely justified—the elaborate strategy he had meticulously engineered was disintegrating before the initial phases could even be properly launched.

‘What an absolute incompetent. He proved incapable of managing an assignment of that simplicity.’

He ground his teeth together in absolute anger as he visualized the particular underling who had utterly ruined the operation.

The strategy had been flexible; whether the asset succeeded in publicly degrading the target or simply provoked an attack and retreated, either outcome would have advanced the agenda.

They had carefully structured a sequence of interconnected fallback protocols across a variety of hypothetical outcomes designed specifically to damage the target’s reputation and undermine his credibility.

‘Yet, out of all the possible failure states…’

Disregarding the explicit, rigid directives he had been given, the dimwitted asset had initiated physical hostilities and allowed himself to be systematically dismantled to the point of requiring emergency medical evacuation.

The asset had been highly convenient to control in the past, completely content to subsist on the occasional administrative scraps thrown his way, but this monumental failure signaled that it was officially time to secure a viable successor.

“What a waste. If our administrative official were still positioned within the hierarchy, we could have executed this operation with absolute precision.”

There were no valid justifications to excuse the incredibly clumsy execution of the plot.

Adelaine Schneider, who held the dual titles of the regional commander for the North American division of the Oath of Reverse Heaven and the official administrative scribe for the Pantheon.

She had maintained absolute oversight regarding all operational activities throughout the North American territory while simultaneously dictating the overarching long-term strategies for the Pantheon.

Her rapid advancement through the organization’s hierarchy was attributed far less to her raw martial capabilities and far more to her prestigious status as a chosen apostle, combined with an unparalleled genius for political manipulation; consequently, her sudden departure had created a massive administrative vacuum that persisted to this very day.

‘My role is strictly that of a hidden assassin operating from the darkness. I cannot remain exposed in the public eye indefinitely.’

‘To rectify this structural weakness, I must successfully install a hand-picked successor into the vacant executive position formerly occupied by our scribe as rapidly as humanly possible…’

The executive council’s most recent administrative session had resulted in the designation of a brand-new regional commander for North America, but the unique, deeply ingrained cultural dynamics of the Pantheon made it incredibly difficult to integrate an external cleric into their inner circle.

Having formerly occupied the position of secondary authority regarding all internal Pantheon affairs, he now found himself operating as the most senior official remaining.

‘Heinrich, that spiritual entity originating from an alternate reality… He represents an absolute threat. If he is permitted to operate without intervention, he possesses the capability to claim the vacant position of the scribe and begin consolidating immense political authority within this sanctuary.’

The strategic landscape had shifted dramatically since the period when the scribe had initially identified his potential and attempted to enlist him into their ranks.

During that initial phase, they remained entirely oblivious to the fact that he was a fundamental adversary—and she was still among the living.

Mercifully, he was far from the only individual harboring deep apprehensions regarding the newcomer’s presence, meaning that organizing a covert conspiracy to undermine him was not a particularly difficult task.

Realpolitik dictated that an individual must maintain an elegant, sophisticated public persona while simultaneously refusing to abandon any available method to secure personal advantage.

‘Furthermore, within the framework of any structured collective, the individuals who ascend to the apex of the hierarchy inevitably transition into practical politicians.’

The ordained clergy were by no means exempt from this sociological reality.

Regardless of their public branding as a spiritual alliance, they remained, at their core, a collection of entirely independent factions.

‘We are absolutely incapable of relinquishing our foothold within the Pantheon. Not after the immense quantities of time and resources we have poured into this location over the years.’

An infinite number of distinct religious organizations originating from a multitude of realities, aggregating an unimaginable, profoundly diverse spectrum of supernatural power.

This ultimate apex of raw capability had been systematically concentrated within a single geographic locus for an extended duration.

As a direct consequence of this phenomenon, the city of San Francisco had transformed into the most anomalous, extraordinary location on the face of the planet.

To state the matter plainly…

This environment represented the absolute perfect ecosystem for entirely unprecedented manifestations of power to take root and flourish.

‘Fortunately for our cause, the governing assembly is extending massive institutional support to us, ensuring that we can maintain control over the situation. Step one requires the systematic elimination of that particular Saint…’

As he remained immersed in his private calculations, his gaze suddenly whipped toward the side of the room.

He pushed himself up from his seat with a high degree of caution and carefully separated the window drapes.

There was absolutely nothing anomalous visible outside—there was no logical reason for him to experience such a sudden spike of paranoia.

Staring intently toward the origin of the disturbance…

The muscles of his face contorted briefly with irritation before he forced his features back into a calm mask.

‘…That individual is unmistakably.’

A specific physical profile that he had completely committed to memory during his exhaustive, comprehensive intelligence reviews.

Under normal circumstances, such an individual would be completely beneath his notice, but given the specific operational background involved, it was absolutely impossible to overlook him now.

‘An ordained practitioner originating from the reality of Outerica.’

Could this truly be chalked up to blind happenstance?

At the precise chronological moment that Saint Heinrich arrives at the sanctuary, a practitioner representing the exact same religious institution is seen loitering in the vicinity…

‘This is an incredibly negative omen.’

He tracked the retreating form of the cleric until the individual vanished from view, then shifted his gaze toward the heavens.

He assumed the posture as though that particular action had been his explicit objective from the very start of the sequence.

The following calendar day.

Directly after the official punitive measures were finalized regarding Walter of the Quelladia Church, who had explicitly broken the foundational regulations of the Pantheon.

The previously delayed diplomatic audience linking Heinrich with the official leadership of the Pantheon was formally initiated.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

“Incredible, the pain in my skull is absolutely agonizing.”

Andrew Weaver allowed his body to collapse deeply into the cushions of the luxurious, single-passenger armchair, letting out a heavy breath.

The unexpected, urgent directives had forced him to pull an absolute all-nighter utilizing his unique supernatural trait, leaving his physical form racked with an elevated body temperature and a pounding sensation in his head.

‘If I continue along this operational trajectory, I am legitimately going to bring about my own demise through sheer physical exhaustion.’

This particular assignment had proven to be exponentially more grueling than his typical tasks.

For starters…

“Why are they suddenly directing me toward the United States out of nowhere?”

The specific geographic target designated for his supernatural surveillance was San Francisco—a location that was practically situated on the exact opposite side of the planet relative to his current coordinates.

It was an established rule of his capability that the greater the spatial distance to the target, the more exponentially it depleted his internal energy reserves; that was simply a standard operational reality.

This effect was exacerbated by the fact that the target was not some mundane urban center, but rather the highly fortified spiritual epicenter of the Pantheon itself…

‘How on earth did they manage to successfully position friendly clerics inside that location?’

Without the utilization of that highly specialized anchor device that had been methodically allocated among them, his supernatural perception could not have possibly bridged such a massive distance.

The truth was, he possessed absolutely zero functional knowledge regarding the internal workings of the Pantheon.

‘Is the entity known as the Immortal King genuinely attempting to wage a full-scale conflict across the surface of the Earth?’

Establishing a direct operational link between his immediate commanding officer and the surveillance subject made the development of such dark hypotheses completely unavoidable.

“Ah, whatever. This ceases to be my concern at this point.”

Because he was legally bound by an absolute binding covenant, abandoning his post was not a viable option.

If he was permitted a single personal aspiration: he simply wished for the nation of Korea to remain as completely tranquil and undisturbed as it had always been.

Given the presence of the specialized artifact that seamlessly managed all linguistic barriers, coupled with the incredibly massive compensation packages he received, absolutely no other geographic location could compete with this setup for maintaining a comfortable, effortless lifestyle.

‘Furthermore, I am desperately owed an extended period of rest.’

The mere visualization of an upcoming period of leisure provided him with a strange, sudden surge of renewed vitality.

Andrew systematically transmitted the compiled espionage data utilizing a series of rapid keystrokes, allowed his eyelids to drift shut, and immediately plunged back into his operational duties.

‘If I completely optimize my performance on this specific assignment, perhaps that extended period of rest will actually be granted.’

Simultaneously.

An array of separate operatives sharing the identical strategic objective were mobilizing in significant quantities.

Probability manipulation, distant perception, celestial divination—every single specialized trait was focused entirely on a solitary, unified goal, forcing disparate streams of intelligence to intersect and coalesce into a coherent picture.

And at long last.

“…I have successfully isolated the target.”

Deep within an expansive data processing facility packed to capacity with specialized computing infrastructure…

Despite the fact that the environmental climate controls were operating at maximum parameters, the ambient environment was thick with concentrated thermal energy as a deep, quiet vocalization echoed through the room.

Operating with the assistance of a localized internal system penetration, the meticulous filtration of digital communication records finally exposed a highly irregular data transmission pathway.

Hesperon, safely ensconced within the specialized isolation apparatus engineered by Howard, extended his technological perception even deeper to extract the granular specifics of the anomaly.

“…What am I looking at?”

Then…

An involuntary expression of absolute bewilderment slipped past his teeth.

“What? There is absolutely no way this is accurate…?”

◇◇◇◇◇◇

Beep beep—

An unkempt, middle-aged individual clad in a soiled scientific garment shifted his focus toward the display terminal, tilting his cranium in confusion.

Yet, his confusion persisted for only a fleeting moment.

It was instantly replaced by a profound wave of exhilaration, akin to the feeling of unexpectedly crossing paths with a deeply cherished companion from his past.

“Wonderful! So you are the elusive individual I have been looking for, correct?”

He abandoned his current tasks entirely, and the highly energized individual sprinted directly toward the display console.

“Fantastic! I have finally succeeded in tracking you down—the legendary digital infiltrator operating on behalf of Masquerade!”

The Doctor flashed an incredibly wide, ecstatic grin.