Dark Warlock in the Apocalypse-Chapter 212: Zeal’s face

Zeal’s face turned pale as a sheet, so much so that he looked like a corpse. A few seconds later, he finally gathered himself enough to speak, his voice trembling.

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"W-wait, earlier you said... you’d spare me if I surrendered…?"

Though his words were scattered and incoherent, the meaning was clear enough. He was asking why, despite agreeing to surrender, his life was still in danger.

With a smirk, Justin responded, "Sure, that’s true—if you were just a regular leader. But you’re a cult leader. How is that the same as being a regular leader?"

"W-what’s the difference?"

"The difference is that a regular leader can be replaced, but faith doesn’t change. The moment you’re replaced in a religious territory, it’s basically considered blasphemy."

It took a moment, but Zeal’s eyes finally widened in realization. He was beginning to understand the gravity of the situation.

"Are you saying that even if I surrender, my followers won’t accept it?"

"Of course not. To your followers, faith is the ultimate authority. As long as their object of faith is still walking on the ground, they won’t tolerate seeing you submit under someone else."

"B-but… in my teachings, the object of faith is…"

"What, the system? And you’re just its representative? So you think you can convince your followers it’s the will of the gods?"

At his naive hope, Justin clicked his tongue in disappointment. "Get real. Even history’s most famous saints couldn’t stop their disciples from going rogue. Do you think a fraud like you can control a bunch of fanatics?"

Cold sweat poured down Zeal’s forehead as the reality of using religion as a tool became crystal clear. He had essentially climbed onto the back of a tiger, and there was no safe way down. If he tried to step down, that tiger—his zealous followers—would surely turn on him.

"No matter how well you spin it, there are two outcomes. Either they’ll blame someone else and tear everything apart looking for answers, or they’ll tear you apart for deceiving them all this time."

"…!"

"If the situation were solely leaning toward the second option, that’d be manageable. But most of the time, it’s the first. And as long as you’re alive, the potential for rebellion remains."

Zeal squeezed his eyes shut, overwhelmed by the confusion and fear swirling in his mind. He couldn’t seem to process a solution. Seeing that he was spiraling, Justin wrapped his arms around Zeal and patted his back. Not to comfort him, but to buy himself some time as he continued speaking.

Then, leaning closer, Justin whispered in Zeal’s ear, "But if your doctrine changes, things might be different."

"...Doctrine?" Zeal echoed, still dazed.

"For example, what if the king is placed above the cult leader? Or maybe your religion exists to serve the king faithfully? If your faith becomes beneficial to me, why would I need to kill you?"

With those words, Zeal’s eyes snapped wide open. Finally, he seemed to understand the escape route Justin was offering. Trembling, Zeal extended his shaking arms and embraced Justin tightly.

"I’ll change it! I swear, I’ll make it happen!"

"Good luck with that."

"I’m serious! I’ll give it everything I’ve got…!"

"Whether you give it your all or not is irrelevant. If I come back and it’s done, you live. If you fail, you die. Simple as that."

Gripped by terror, Zeal clutched Justin’s clothes as if they were his lifeline. It was a desperate act, but Justin’s answer remained unchanged. He released the embrace and smiled brightly.

"Do your best. You know what they say—heaven helps those who help themselves."

Though Zeal was clearly shaken, he managed to keep his expression in check. By the time he turned to face his followers, he had already plastered a calm, gentle smile on his face. His lips trembled slightly, but considering the circumstances, it was impressive composure.

That guy didn’t become a leader for no reason, Justin thought, secretly admiring Zeal’s ability to keep it together.

"Lord, we should get going. It’s getting late," Zachary suggested, approaching Justin.

Hearing this, Justin glanced up at the sky, which had shifted from red to a deep purple, signaling the impending night.

"Yeah, it’s pretty late. We won’t get far if we move now."

"But we can’t stay here, right? We’re in low ground, and now that the temple is gone, we don’t even have any cover."

"True. Let’s head straight home."

"Excuse me?"

"We got something useful earlier, didn’t we? Let’s put it to use."

Ignoring Zachary’s confused expression, Justin reached into his inventory and pulled out the Dimensional Portal Scroll. Without hesitation, he tore one of the paired scrolls in half.

"Ding! You have used a Dimensional Portal Scroll. A portal will now be generated at this location."

"Ding! A temporary safe zone with a 10-meter radius has been established around the portal."

"Ding! Only one scroll has been used, so the portal remains unlinked. Use the remaining scroll at a different location to create a connected pathway."

"Lord!"

"Brother!"

Zachary and the others gasped in shock as they watched Justin tear the precious scroll. Their eyes widened in disbelief, clearly wondering why he would use such a valuable item now.

"Relax. I didn’t do it impulsively. I’ve got my reasons."

"But still... wouldn’t it be better to use it closer to another city…?"

"That would be ideal, but we don’t have another city nearby right now. First, we need a foothold."

While it was understandable that his companions were concerned, Justin explained calmly, "If we place the portal too close to another territory, they could block access to it. It’s better to set it up within our sphere of influence or at least in a neutral zone. And this place is perfect."

"Because it’s in the center of all the major territories?"

"Exactly. From here, we can reach any of the major domains. Plus, it’s far enough from everything that we won’t have to worry about interference."

"Hmm, I see your point. But still, if we plan to capture other major territories, wouldn’t it be more strategic to..." Zachary trailed off, scratching his head, clearly deep in thought. He seemed to be calculating all the long-term benefits and potential drawbacks for their territory’s future.

"Besides, after all the hard work, shouldn’t we at least get home comfortably? We’ll use the dimensional portal to get back in no time."

"What do you mean? The portal only connects once you tear the second scroll at the destination," Zachary replied, still puzzled.

"I know. But that just means we need to send someone quickly to the destination to connect the portal."

"Send someone? Ah!" Zachary finally understood as he glanced at Fafnir.

Justin grinned. "You’ve seen dragon riders in movies, right? I’ve always wanted to try that."

"Who would’ve thought we’d snag the remaining nine territories so easily?" Derek said, tossing a stack of documents onto the table, his face a mix of disbelief and amusement.

The papers contained estimates of the enemy’s casualties and their average levels. While the numbers were rough, the margin of error didn’t matter much.

"At this point, their available fighting force has been pretty much wiped out, especially if they came here intending to go all-in on a real war."

"Exactly," Ethan agreed with a faint smile, waving his own report. "What’s left are stragglers at best. To be blunt, you, me, and ten elite fighters could take over everything with ease."

Relieved that one of their biggest concerns had been resolved, Ethan continued, "Well, at least we’ll have peace in our territory until the lord returns. I’m glad we won’t be wasting our time staring down a bunch of nobodies."

"Yeah, but what are we going to do about this?" Derek pointed to a wall, shivering as the cold wind blew through the room.

The wall, which led outside, was riddled with holes, allowing chilly gusts to flow in freely. It had been partially destroyed when Fafnir had burst out of the office a while ago.

"It’s not something we can fix easily. We don’t have the skills, and if we try, it’ll just look awful. We don’t have the system access to repair it, either. We’ll just have to wait until the lord gets back," Ethan replied with a shrug.

"Damn it, that dragon couldn’t just leave quietly, could it? Had to tear everything apart."

"He was probably excited after being cooped up in that egg for so long. We can laugh it off; after all, he did more than his share of work. But are you really okay with it?"

"With what?"

"With Fafnir. You’ve always had your little spats with him, but now he’s gotten way too strong, don’t you think?"

Derek let out a groan. It was something that had been bothering him too. Fafnir had always been expressive, and Derek worried that the dragon might take revenge if it felt slighted. Looking around uneasily, Derek pressed his fingers to his temples.

"This is ridiculous. I can’t exactly start sucking up to him now, can I?"

"It might be in your best interest to do so. There’s no chance you’ll outgrow him in strength at this point."

"Stop jinxing me with that talk! You never know, maybe I’ll get stronger than him one day."

"How? In what world could anyone fight a dragon one-on-one and win, except maybe our lord?"

Derek scowled at Ethan’s playful tone and muttered, "You don’t know, but there’s actually a hidden warrior class called ’Dragon Slayer.’ If I could get my hands on that, I might stand a chance against him. And who says I won’t?"

"Oh? Is that so? How do you get the Dragon Slayer class, then?"

"...You have to kill a dragon."

"Pfft! What kind of paradox is that?"

The two laughed heartily. The irony of having to kill a dragon to become a Dragon Slayer, especially considering there was only one known dragon at the moment, was absurd.

Derek’s face turned a bit red as he grumbled, "Tch, if only another dragon would show up somewhere. I’m sure the lord would help me out."

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"Dragons aren’t exactly common, you know? I’ve only encountered one in my years of playing World Rebuild, and that was Fafnir."

"Yeah, they’re rare. I’ve only heard rumors about the Dragon Slayer class, never seen anyone actually obtain it," Derek admitted.

The two shared another chuckle. What had begun as a formal meeting had devolved into a casual chat, now that their major concerns had been dealt with. But just as they were about to dive into another topic, the door burst open with a loud bang.

Emily rushed in, breathless and frantic, startling both Ethan and Derek.

"The door’s going to fall off its hinges! Can’t you open it more carefully? The office upstairs is already falling apart after what happened earlier," Derek scolded.

"I-I’m sorry! But… something important—no, not important, but urgent… I mean…!" Emily stammered.

"Calm down and explain slowly. Would you like some water?" Ethan asked gently.

"No, thank you!" Emily took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. After a few moments, she steadied herself and spoke more clearly, though her eyes still betrayed her excitement.

"I apologize for the disruption. But… the lord has returned."

"...What?"

"That can’t be. It takes at least two weeks just to make the journey back," Derek said, sharing a confused glance with Ethan.

They were both happy at the news, but logically, it didn’t make sense. The timing didn’t add up.

Seeing their bewildered faces, Emily nodded and clarified, "Yes, that’s true. If he had walked, it would’ve taken that long. But the lord flew back."

"...What?"

"He’s riding Fafnir. He’s been flying around near the city gates, apparently enjoying the flight."

"...!?"