0 – Deep Sleep
The night, shunned even by the moon, was noisy.
There wasn’t much to see, but there was plenty to hear. A man trapped in the room could vividly describe the situation in the corridor without moving an inch.
“Please forgive our sins… and rescue us from the abyss of darkness…”
He raised his trembling hands in prayer, but the sound piercing his ears couldn’t be blocked.
Chanting echoed in the corridor, and guards gathered.
The scream continued to rise, rising continuously until abruptly cutting off. Like those who scream while falling off a cliff.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Then, a dull metallic sound echoed like a funeral bell. The bell that rang every time they buried the dead.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The drumming in the ears, but the prayer didn’t cease. Thanks to inertia.
Perhaps soldiers continue monotonous training for some reason. Maybe it’s not to move the body in that moment of mental paralysis.
The Archbishop also did the same. Prayer gave him strength. Dragging his chubby body, he lit candles. With trembling hands, he pulled the wardrobe, the slipping loop.
With a thump, candles fell to the ground. Unconsecrated ones. The Archbishop muttered curses, closed his eyes, and blessed.
It was a terribly exhausting task.
Once, he blessed a wooden carving offered by a humble peasant child. The child covered in scabs due to the plague. Despite the curses, the Archbishop smiled and prayed.
He blessed a noble maiden with eyes bluer and clearer than a lake. Her insolence almost provoked him to shoot her gaze, but he restrained himself. When he placed his hand on her blonde head, the scent of oranges wafted.
Even to warriors. To inquisitors. To priests, nuns, and abbots. Countless blessings bestowed.
This time, inertia moved his lips again. The Archbishop’s body moved like a puppet. Candles were placed throughout the room, quickly lit one by one.
But it wasn’t enough. The Archbishop’s room was as vast and lofty as his authority. So, he shattered a large mirror.
Given items bestowed upon by the Pope, even momentarily setting aside that fact, he hastily opened the wardrobe and grabbed whatever clothes were there. He wrapped the broken mirror in a corner.
Placing the last mirror down was chilling; through the crack under the door, black smoke swiftly crept in. Shadows. However, they couldn’t pierce through the light.
Footsteps and screams drew nearer, yet, beads of sweat dripped from the Archbishop’s forehead; still, he felt relieved.
“Darkness cannot overcome the light.”
– Yes, that’s right.
The response came from an unexpected place. The Archbishop’s face lost its smile. Laughter. Chuckles echoed. Mockery filled the air.
It was absurd. All shadows were gone. There was no place in the room where shadows could form.
– If you were the light, Archbishop.
“Ah… Ah…”
The Archbishop sighed.
Everywhere in the room was bright, except for the Archbishop himself. The obstruction to the light was his own body. Between his two feet, a sneering shadow appeared. Grinning teeth, flickering eyes, swirling.
Like the pack of wolves serving the Demon King.
They were not modest about their numbers, fangs, and jaws. Like the Demon King, they were attentive and greedy. Waiting for the moment when the prey weakened.
The prey’s own fear, the moment when his neck is strangled, his wrists broken, and his ankles bitten, causing him to collapse.
The Archbishop sank to the floor. He stretched out both legs like a child. Turning the rosary, he recited the prayer.
“Forgive us for the wickedness we have committed….”
However, the already cast shadows whispered in the Archbishop’s ears.
– You know, Archbishop? Fear is like a chick hatching. A chick can’t break out of the egg on its own.
He ignored it. It must be ignored. Listening to the shadow’s whispers would be the end. The Archbishop pressed his eyelids tightly, focusing only on the prayer.
“Remember only our good deeds….”
– You must feed the mother hen with your beak from the outside. So even if you’re afraid of what’s outside, as long as your heart, Archbishop, is upright, nothing will happen.
Thud.
The Archbishop’s door shook. The Archbishop opened his eyes wide and took a deep breath.
Thud. Thud. Thud. The door, the door shook violently. That thing outside pushes the door forcefully.
‘There’s no way it will break.’
The Archbishop closes his eyes again. He lowers the curtain of his heart and declares firmly.
‘It’s a door reinforced with steel that has been stretched and layered on a harder oak tree than steel. Even the siege engine said that door couldn’t be broken. If we hold on until dawn…!’
– Of course, there’s nothing to be afraid of. Archbishop. Right?
The shadow speaks as if it’s slightly puzzled.
– Was it last week or the week before? Didn’t you say it in the sermon? ‘Envy. Jealousy. Fear. Anger… Sin is a hungry beast in one’s heart, it grows by feeding on attention. So completely ignore those things. Let them starve to death…’
Bang, the sound of the door being broken. The sound of the guards running and screaming. The screams that are closing in suddenly turn into a drowsy sound, then into a sudden silence.
– It was a great speech, Archbishop. It was predictable, but because it came out of your mouth, it was sacred. Truly sacred. While the men in the front row closed their eyes and shed tears, didn’t the women look at you with an admiring gaze?
“Do not count our sins…”
– So it wasn’t your fault that you saw their clearly exposed chests. What sin could you have? It was because the noblewomen were not modest. Isn’t that right? The Countess was a little better. Wasn’t the space between her collarbones not pure white? It was because the sunlight didn’t reach in to soothe that unpleasant hand.
“Consider our good deeds…”
– So didn’t you do what the sun was supposed to do? Was it in the confession booth? Or was it in this room? If it wasn’t here or there, was it in the small barn next to the stable? Oh no, no. It was right in the Count’s bed. The day you went to congratulate him, wishing him a speedy recovery.
Bang! Bang! Bang! The Archbishop screamed as he looked at the ceiling.
“Even if I have committed ninety-nine sins, if there is one good deed, please remember it!”
– Ah. Really, you have done nothing wrong. It was the Count who returned from the battlefield as a cripple, leaving behind a young and passionate wife. If only you had said a word while you and the Countess were rolling around next to the Count’s bed.
“Please show mercy, show mercy!”
– Was your tongue cut? Were your eyes blinded? You weren’t in a coma, were you? “You retard, look at the tendons on the back of his hand!” That’s what you said, do you remember? I’m not sure if you do. You seemed to gather strength when you saw your wife laughing at that comment… But how is that your fault?
“Who will bear the consequences of your actions? Who will pass your judgment?”
You blessed your wife and husband with your body and soul. That’s not wrong. It’s not a sin, and you haven’t committed a sin, so there’s nothing to fear.
Thud… thud… clang!
The archbishop’s eyes opened. A piece of wood rolled across the room. It regained stability as if forcibly awakened from sleep.
“Ah… ahhh…!”
And the archbishop saw it. The metal glove forcing its way through the torn gap in the door. Trying to widen the gap with a clanking sound.
“There’s nothing to fear, Archbishop. There’s really nothing to fear. Storing the stipends of the trainee monks for a short while? Distributing their share to the new nuns and receiving a ‘fee’ in return? Is that wrong? Isn’t that what everyone does?”
“Please show mercy, and attend to your servant!”
Hiring guards and using the budget to employ fifty of them? Everyone does that. Wearing a fake beard and wandering the streets on festival nights? Anyone would do that.
“I have gone where I had to go, done what I had to do, and accomplished what I had to accomplish!”
Witches. Witches. The numerous witches you judged! You know, witches only bring destruction, they have no power of creation. So, to know if they are real witches, you should have known if they could conceive, right? It was your duty to determine whether they were just poor women from the villages or real witches.
Bang!
“You must show mercy!”
You have truly fulfilled your duty. You have done a good deed. But, Archbishop?
The metal glove grabbed the door.
The door resisted until the last moment. It did its job.
But the latch did not.
The stone wall that should have held the latch did not either.
And so, the door was torn open.
The knight, surrounded by sinister shadows, stands tall and looks at him. He felt it. He couldn’t see the eyes behind the helmet.
The shadows entered the room joyfully. They danced around the ceiling, surrounded the walls, and swirled around like a blessing. Strangely, it reminded him of the countess’s petticoat.
“But why pray at all?” the shadow asked.
“Me. I. I…”
“You have committed no sin. So, there is no need to fear. The only one you should fear is the divine. Yet, you tremble. Turning the rosary hurriedly, trying to pray, and desperately extinguishing and lighting the candles to drive away the shadows. Why? Why sit on the floor like a scared child?”
“I have no sin.”
The archbishop stood up. It was difficult. Wet pants, stiff legs, and a dry throat. Yet the archbishop stood up.
He had never kneeled before the devil.
“I have no sin. I have fulfilled my duty. I have faithfully carried out the mission given to me. If there is sin in me, if there is guilt in me! It is solely born from sincerity, and judgment belongs solely to the divine! You wretch!”
The candles flared up like torches. Light and warmth flickered in the archbishop’s right hand. It soon turned into a hammer the size of a person. Before he was an archbishop, he was one of the knights, and before he was a knight, he was a holy knight.
“You wretches like you are not to be feared!”
The armored knight still said nothing, just looked at him quietly.
The archbishop struck the hammer on the floor. The shadow seemed to flinch and withdraw.
Exhilaration, the passion of youth, and the pure passion to defeat evil returned to the archbishop’s body.
“But why pray? Why wield a weapon? If that thing is so harmless. If that wretch is not to be feared, why go this far?”
The archbishop was horrified. The voice was none other than his own, coming from his hammer.
The hammer of light twisted. The archbishop dropped the hammer. The fallen hammer spread like mercury on the floor. Soon, a human face emerged from it. They all seemed to be happily laughing and chatting, but then turned into a common smoke and dispersed.
“Are you now unable to even distinguish between light and shadow
The Symbol of God.
“Salvation….”
– No. Not. Archbishop. It’s not that. You’ve been waiting. You knew this moment would come. Secretly, you’ve been anticipating this moment, haven’t you?
The knight in armor descended. Soon, he became a gray shadow. Like the water flowing down a reverse sewer, like the smoke rising through the chimney, it flowed and moved towards the Archbishop beneath the candlelight.
– What you’ve been waiting for is not salvation. What you’ve been waiting for all this time is ‘fear.’ Guilt? Forgiveness? Retribution? Judgment? No. No. No. Your fear is the only thing.
Smoke rose in front of the Archbishop. Soon, it took the form of the knight. Inside the steel helmet, a strange sound echoed, neither a human voice nor the clanging sound of metal, but an eerie sound.
“The fear of having what was not meant to be taken away.”
“Dare—!”
The Archbishop screamed. He had forgotten with his mind. But his body remembered. The harsh incantations carved by harsh whippings and hunger came to mind.
“Do you dare to defile the child of God!”
Judgment flames erupted from the Archbishop’s fist.
“You idiot, how dare you think this place is anywhere! It was a mistake for someone like you to intrude among us. You and your woman were destined to live in the countryside, raising your children like dogs! Your insignificant self, your insignificant self!”
The fist struck the knight’s armor. The armor crumpled, crushed, torn apart. It was nothing special.
“Just because you ate a sacred fruit, your insignificant self could never become a hero! You couldn’t take what was ours, what was mine! That was unfair! Unfair, unfair, and unjust! It was not justice! It was unjust, and finally, you appeared before me in this miserable state!”
The fist lifted the helmet.
The helmet clanged, making a sound as it hit the ground.
With a thud, the lifeless body fell backward.
“A, a child who isn’t even worth a single blow….”
However, the Archbishop couldn’t continue. Shadows gathered around the helmet. Something floated up, round, and regained its form. The knight in armor regained his shape.
There was one difference from before. A sword held in his right hand. A sword with a scabbard.
“Who dares to stand in my way, a pathetic fool who can’t even draw a sword from its sheath!”
“Speak.”
A metallic sound echoed.
From Noble mtl dot com
“Confess your deeds. If your actions are truly righteous, show yourself before all of humanity. Speak openly about what you have done and accept the consequences.”
“I will. I will do just that!”
The enraged Archbishop rushed towards the wardrobe. He forcibly grabbed the lock and tore it off, then clenched a hammer in his hand. It was an item he had put away since the day he returned after killing the demon king. He didn’t want to lay eyes on it ever again. But the hammer recognized its true owner and gleamed.
“I will reveal to my world that the lowly are destined to fall! I will expose how a lowly creature who didn’t even know how to share a meal with a pack animal ended up in ruin! I will reveal how the bonds were shattered because of you, and how we managed to unite once again! I will add one more tale to the countless ones we have already told!”
The Archbishop swung the hammer.
The knight swung his sword. It was a movement as slow and sluggish as when he was alive.
The Archbishop already knew the answer. The hammer and sword would clash.
But with that flimsy sword, he couldn’t withstand this heavy hammer, a hammer infused with divine power. The sword was deflected, and the hammerhead would shatter his head.
The knight pulled the sword towards his body. He was surprised by the sudden change in attitude, but the trajectory of the swung hammer remained unchanged.
What a futile attempt, from a talentless oaf who knew nothing of swordsmanship…!
Clang.
His body may have grown larger, but his eyes remained the same. It was also a source of pride for the Archbishop. His proud eyes showed it.
The sword was subtly “pushed aside” by the hammer.
The floor was shattered with a loud crash. It was a blow to the false floor. The hammer had smashed the ground beside the knight’s feet. Normally, the helmet should have been shattered like that.
The Archbishop tried to lift the hammer. In the next moment, the sword pierced through the Archbishop’s wrist. It was as slow and hesitant as a parent hitting an unwanted child, but
The Archbishop couldn’t stop it.
“aaargh!”
The Archbishop screamed and stepped back. The candle extinguished, and the candle wax burned his hand. He quickly brushed off the candle stuck to his robe.
Step by step, the knight approached. With a raised sword, he struck the Archbishop with slow, deliberate movements.
Just once. Just once, the left temple shattered. It seemed like he would collapse, but the Archbishop raised his right hand and opened his palm.
“I can explain, I can explain! Please, just listen to me for a moment!”
Fortunately, the knight stopped. The sound of metal rang out.
“I’m listening.”
Tears mixed in his eyes, the Archbishop trembled his chin.
“W-well, well! This, this is how it happened…! Ahhh!”
Once again, the Archbishop couldn’t continue his words. The knight struck his palm. The bent fingers behind it glared at their owner.
“I said explain, I said explain!”
“I heard you.”
“What…?”
– Your scream will explain everything, Archbishop.
The shadows chuckled. The sword was raised like a verdict. The slow motion swung down like a club.
During his novice days. When his bones hadn’t fully hardened. When he couldn’t properly memorize the prayers. When he couldn’t swing the wooden staff as instructed. Like when he couldn’t properly carry out the errands for his seniors.
Yes. It’s all a dream.
The Archbishop finally understood.
He was still a six-year-old seed.
Archbishop. What a ridiculous notion. Catching the demon king with his colleagues. Nonsense. That the offspring they buried with their own hands would come back to life and try to kill him with a sword. Madness.
What will tomorrow morning be like? A bowl of oatmeal for breakfast? Fish bones boiled into a thick soup?
During the time when his plump body sprawled on the ground, the archbishop had one last thought.
I have to wake up early tomorrow to sweep the hallway.
Thump, thump. The sound of meaty breaths being exhaled without emotion served as a lullaby, and the archbishop fell into a deep slumber.
Poetry. Amazing.