The Atana Faith.

Their method for recruiting believers was simple.

Preach that by following the immortal Athanasia, one could achieve eternal life even after death. In Yaphenon—a nation whose population had been fractured overnight by Vald’s attack—it was the perfect message. Too many people had come to fear death.

On top of that, Athanasia was a real ancient god. Though she had once stood in direct opposition to Elhaen, and thus should’ve been viewed with hostility by Yaphenon, a brother-nation to Krata, that was all in the past.

Krata had done nothing when Yaphenon was trampled. And to the citizens of Yaphenon, who had never been deeply devout and relied more on old shamanistic traditions, both Krata and Elhaen were now just part of the group that had abandoned them.

The Atana Faith exploited that rift. Its believers helped rebuild Yaphenon while spreading sweet propaganda to soothe public anxiety.

That’s how their numbers exploded in the blink of an eye.

“Th-That’s her!”

“It’s the Archbishop of the Atana Faith!”

“The Archbishop is here!”

As Athanasia stepped into the crowd with her appointed priests, the surrounding area erupted in excitement.

Archbishop, huh.

Receiving cheers from those who believed in her own name, Athanasia offered a wry smile.

I’m the source of this whole religion, after all.

At the moment, she wore a white mask covering the upper half of her face. Not that many humans would recognize her face—but if she were to appear later as “Athanasia” in full, she couldn’t afford to show the same appearance now.

Well, it can’t be helped.

Had she revealed herself as an ancient god from the start, any remaining Elhaen followers in Yaphenon would’ve gone berserk. Even Krata, currently silent, might’ve made a move under those circumstances.

All things considered, laying the groundwork like this was the best possible approach.

“Long live the Atana Faith!”

Still, the rapid expansion of her faith was an encouraging sight. Athanasia smiled and waved to the crowd before stepping into a carriage alongside one of her archbishops.

Once the carriage started moving, the young secretary sitting across from her, Marcia, spoke up.

“Archbishop. As instructed, I’ve located the main hideouts of the factions threatening Yaphenon’s public order.”

She adjusted her glasses and handed over a sheet of paper.

“However, due to the recent ancient god incident, many of Yaphenon’s officials and local leaders were killed, so the amount of information we could gather was limited.”

Marcia was someone Athanasia had discovered in a refugee camp. Though she had no background to speak of, she was sharp, knowledgeable, and skilled at calculations.

When shown a bit of kindness, she had displayed fierce loyalty, so Athanasia had immediately appointed her as secretary to the Atana Faith.

“I’m sorry, Archbishop.”

“It’s fine,” Athanasia waved her hand.

“I wasn’t planning to clean up everything anyway.”

All she wanted was to overlap her movements with whoever was pretending to be one of her followers while tearing through the city.

“You know that person going around claiming to be from the Atana Faith, right? It’s nice they’re clearing out thugs, but if someone we can’t control runs too wild, it gets a bit bothersome.”

“Yes, but please don’t trouble yourself too much over it. Even without your intervention, I will handle the matter thoroughly.”

“Reliable, aren’t you~” Athanasia leaned back comfortably in her seat, “I really chose the right secretary.”

“Ah, and one more thing, Archbishop.”

“What is it?”

“We’ve had a noticeable increase in people inquiring about joining the Atana Faith. They said they wanted proper protection—after hearing about that person.”

“Oh, really?”

Athanasia’s lips twitched faintly.

“Hm… In that case, we might as well reel them in while they’re interested. If they’re mentioning our name, that means they’re paying attention.”

“Exactly. A wise decision.”

While they chatted, the carriage left the city limits. Broken trees littered the roadside, making travel somewhat difficult.

“…Looks like it’ll still take some time to fully rebuild.”

“Yeah.”

Athanasia responded, looking out the window.

Well, even if it takes a long time… that’s not a bad thing.

People’s hearts are easiest to seize when they’re weak.

She didn’t say it aloud to Marcia—she just smiled quietly to herself.

♧

“Huh?”

It wasn’t long before Athanasia ran into something she hadn’t expected.

“Wh-What the—”

She had simply stopped by a random area—only to run into the very person pretending to be a follower of the Atana Faith.

“The Demon King…!”

Clay. Wearing a white robe, he was in the middle of pulverizing a group of bandits.

“Athanasia.”

He had just finished snapping the last bandit’s neck when he turned to face her.

“I’ve just now started revealing my face around here, and what do you know—you show up at the perfect moment.”

He wiped a hand down his face as if brushing off dust.

“By the time I finish with the last one, I always end up wanting to show them. Who it was that killed them.”

Who brought them down.

“Not that it really matters.”

“……”

Athanasia looked at him and felt a strange sense of dissonance.

He wasn’t like this before…

Whether it was damage or change, she couldn’t be sure. But one thing was certain—his eyes were colder than ever before.

“In any case, it’s good to see you, Athanasia. Been a while.”

“Yeah.”

As Athanasia stood in silence, a voice called from outside.

—“Archbishop! Are you all right? We heard crashing noises from inside…”

“I’m fine, Marcia!”

Athanasia responded quickly.

“I’ve taken care of everything in here! Go check the surrounding area—see if anyone else is nearby!”

—“Ah, yes! Understood!”

The presence outside faded into the distance. As Athanasia let out a sigh, Clay spoke quietly.

“‘Archbishop,’ huh. So you made up a new title to avoid revealing who you really are?”

“…Yeah, something like that.”

Athanasia glanced around. Something was missing.

“You’re alone? Where’s everyone else?”

“There were some who tried to flee. They followed them.” Clay leaned back in a large chair, clearly at ease, “…You came to check because I was claiming to be a member of the Atana Faith, didn’t you?”

“Yeah. If someone I can’t control is running wild under our name, it becomes a risk.” She spoke in an exasperated tone, “But I didn’t expect that someone to be the least controllable person of all.”

“Apologies.”

His reply was immediate—without a hint of hesitation—and Athanasia was momentarily at a loss for words.

“…Still, I’ve got a question.”

After a moment, she managed to open her mouth again.

“Why are you going after small fry like this yourself?”

“Because it seemed like it would take you some time to handle it.”

Clay gestured to the crumpled bandits lying around him.

“You were lucky to find this place quickly, but these types usually operate in small, scattered cells. Not easy to track.”

“And you know all that?”

“I already had a decent grasp back when I was a Hero.”

Back then, priorities had kept him from acting on all the intel he had.

“But now… I actually feel lighter. There’s no particular order I have to follow anymore.”

“You’re still the Demon King, though.” Athanasia frowned, “This kind of thing doesn’t suit your position.”

“Position?” Clay let out a short laugh, “If we’re talking about that, don’t worry. A few annoying pests—I can deal with them myself.”

He wasn’t wrong. Still…

Feels more like he’s venting.

This wasn’t like him. The corpses around him reeked of emotion. They’d been ripped, crushed, broken with deliberation—clearly intended to inflict pain.

“Listen.” He turned toward her, “I’ve been to quite a few of these dens. If I point them out, can you revive the dead and use them as soldiers?”

“…What?” Athanasia flinched, “I can, but… considering the Atana Faith’s reputation, sending out corpses as troops would be a bit…”

“Just dress them up properly.” Clay suggested outfitting them in full white armor, “Spread the word that they’ve become undying soldiers blessed by Athanasia. Sounds pretty convincing, doesn’t it?”

“Hm…”

“I’m not asking you to consider it.” Clay’s red eyes fixed on her, “I told you the method. Implement it.”

“…All right.” Athanasia swallowed dryly, “But at least respect the role I’ve built for myself. Once the faith grows a bit more, I’ll make room for you to enter properly.”

“And how exactly do you plan to explain the Demon King?”

“Well, I have thought of something…”

Athanasia hesitated.

Clay tilted his head.

“What is it? Just be honest.”

“Umm…”

After a long pause, Athanasia finally blurted it out.

“W-Want to be my apostle?”

“……”

“I mean—you’re an undying god now, right? Since you died and came back, it kind of… fits…”

Clay stared at her silently.

Then—

“Not bad.”

“Huh?”

“I said, it’s not bad.”

He gave a response she hadn’t expected.

“Really?”

“Yeah. But the ‘position’ you mentioned earlier… that bothers me in this case.”

“What do you mean, ‘bothers’?”

“Let’s call it a contract. Between equals.”

Not above or below—side by side.

“But wouldn’t that make it look like you made the contract before you died?”

When Clay had stood on the execution platform, people had already said he’d betrayed Elhaen. If it became known he’d also made a pact with an ancient god, the criticism would only deepen.

“Athanasia.”

Clay let out a faint sigh.

“Who cares about that now?”

“…What?”

“If it were the old me, maybe. But the me now… there’s nothing about that kind of reputation that bothers me anymore.”

He stood up from the chair.

“I’m the Demon King.”

He stopped in front of her, eyes unwavering.

“All that praise and prestige that once shackled me as a Hero… I don’t care about any of it anymore.”

Such things had only mattered when he was trying to live like a human.

“Do I still look that weak to you?”

His question carried weight. And with it, Athanasia finally understood.

Why was he here? Why was he acting like this?

He truly didn’t care anymore.

Not because he chose to be that way.

But because everything else had forced him into it.

Athanasia realized the path ahead for him would be far more grueling than anything he had already endured.

“No.”

That’s why, rather than mourn his cruelty, she would affirm it.

“I think you can do far more than this.”

She gave him a smile.

It was the kind of comfort that only equals could share.

(End of Chapter)

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