Latia, Goddess of Justice.
What do her inquisitors do?
'Noble executors who punish the unsanctioned.'
According to the goddess's word, aberrations existed in the world.
Born in human bodies and living human lives, yet harboring souls so anomalous they could never belong.......
"Calling me, a servant of the Goddess of Justice, a devotee of an evil god—. Perhaps you have ties to the heretic beyond that door? No, you must be in league with her."
The inquisitor pointed to the door behind him.
'Commander Jack calls him a devotee of an evil god, but.......'
To Thomson, Jack might've had an eccentric disposition, but he was no villain.
So even after learning the inquisitor truly served 'Latia, Goddess of Justice,' Thomson suspected the man was in the wrong.
Just because someone served a god didn't make them righteous, did it?
He'd naturally assumed the inquisitor was corrupt.
But the truth was different.
'He's not a bribed, corrupt priest. He looks like a genuine holy executor.......'
The feverish golden eyes burning with zeal gave off a feeling entirely different from what Thomson had expected.
It wasn't just the fanatical gleam that made him think so.
The radiant halo rising behind the inquisitor was the proof.
Was that sacred luminance not the very symbol of an inquisitor who purged evil on behalf of the divine?
Before that holy golden light, Thomson's head bowed involuntarily.
But then—.
"GAAAAHH——!!!"
Jack was consistent.
Jack ripped off the young lord's remaining leg.
If an explanation were demanded, the answer would likely be something like 'It's to prevent any risk of escape.'
Jack tossed the young lord, now with only one arm left, aside and advanced toward the inquisitor.
Then asked.
"If one's eyes are two different colors, does that make them a heretic?"
"As I suspected, you know about the existence beyond that door."
"That's not an answer to my question."
Even as Jack's massive frame approached, the inquisitor showed no fear.
"The eyes are merely a symbol. The true evidence of heresy lies within her mind. This tome is the knowledge of the devil inside her head, transcribed."
The inquisitor produced a book from within his vestments and handed it to Jack.
"It's written in an otherworldly language. The eldest son of Margrave Kranel gave it to me as proof of heresy."
Thomson caught a glimpse of it.
He wasn't fluent in every language in the world, but he knew the continent's common tongue.
'What kind of—.'
The vast majority of the world's languages took roughly similar forms.
Elven or dwarven, all were scripts built on flowing curves.
'A script that looks like that actually exists?'
Peculiar characters with squares arranged above and below long strokes.
Every letter in that tome was unlike anything he'd ever seen.
"I can't read."
It was equally foreign to Jack.
No, to Jack, every script looked the same.
An indecipherable string of characters.
Still, the definition of a book was something he understood well.
"A book is thought put to writing. Even if the script is different, is it right to call that proof of heresy?"
Jack was questioning right and wrong.
"Right and wrong, you say......."
The inquisitor nodded at his question.
He judged that the giant before him was no mindless beast.
"Because you are uneducated, you do not know the truth, and your sense of good and evil is underdeveloped—."
That must be why he was weighing right and wrong here.
Upon closer inspection, the man looked young, too.
"—Ignorance is no sin."
The inquisitor sought to offer guidance.
"To possess knowledge that no one has ever taught, from the moment of birth—."
But his words were cut short.
"I've heard enough of that fanatic's insufferable logic. Do you have any idea how many of your kind I've dealt with?"
Jack stepped forward, making clear he had no interest in hearing more.
A single ordinary step, yet it served as a signal.
No further discussion was necessary.
"May the light of justice pass its judgment—."
The inquisitor intoned a sacred verse.
He must have been experienced, for he read the flow and moved to action immediately.
A brilliant golden divine power enveloped the inquisitor's body.
As if he'd anticipated this, Jack drew the sword he'd taken from the young lord and faced the holy light head-on.
Whoooosh———.
The overwhelming divine power said to annihilate all evil came crashing toward Jack's body.
The high-level holy art 'Annihilation of Evil,' said to erase even massive monsters in an instant.
Within the sacred light that flooded the dungeon, the inquisitor offered a prayer.
"O pitiable soul who cannot see the truth and thus believes evil to be righteous, may you find peace in the divine embrace—. What!"
But then—.
Cracks appeared within that blinding light.
The fractures grew and grew until they tore the massive divine light apart.
The shattered light scattered like broken glass.
CLAAANG———!!!
Through the golden haze, Jack could be seen swinging his sword in broad, careless strokes.
Having ripped the high-level holy art to shreds, Jack strode toward the inquisitor.
The lingering traces of light dissipated without leaving a single mark on his body.
At the sight, the inquisitor was aghast.
"The will of God....... H-how could the Annihilation of Evil—."
A divine authority created to destroy evil.
A miracle of God, therefore.
And a few careless sword swings had erased it.
Was this man denying God Herself?
The inquisitor was struck speechless.
To the speechless inquisitor, Jack posed a question.
"If that light were truly God's will and the symbol of righteousness, then just how righteous must my monstrous strength be for having broken God's will?"
A question befitting a devotee of monstrous strength, one who believed strength was the best means of deciding right and wrong.
—Ep. 04 Reunion
I couldn't accumulate wisdom through reading, so I trusted only my own experience.
In my previous life, three of the continent's most prominent holy orders had banded together to try to kill me.
I called them evil gods, and my reasons were too many to count.
'None of them are proper gods.'
First off, barring a handful of truly noble individuals, the vast majority were corrupt human scum.
They coveted wealth and cared only about using the chaos of the world to inflate their orders' influence.
Abandoning the weak to collude with the strong and using religion as a symbol of imperialization, or helping the Empire choose 'religious differences' as the pretext for exterminating minority peoples.
Some went so far as to argue that anyone of a different race wasn't 'human' at all, pushing to kill every non-human species and escalating the World War to an extreme.
I was a constant thorn in their side for defying them, and eventually the three orders joined forces to eliminate me.
But my monstrous strength ripped through everything.
With raw power alone, I tore apart three types of divine power and brought the will of their gods to heel beneath my monstrous strength.
It wasn't easy, of course.
But I did it.
The evil god bastards who wielded divine power all shared one common trait—.
'The moment their miracles crumble, they turn into complete morons.'
Thanks to that, I'd prevailed even against the combined assassination squads of three orders.
They treated divine miracles as something extraordinary.
So when the divine power vanished, the rest was simple.
—G-God's will, the miracle, why?!!!
They'd just stare at me in shock, screaming for their god.
Divine power was merely a force that happened to be a little more effective against monsters and undead. Before my monstrous strength, the real power, it was nothing more than a useless ball of light.
In any case, using that principle, I'd beaten the inquisitor, now a moron without his miracle, half to death.
"Aughh—. The in-inquisitor!!!"
Beside me, the kid Thomson was screaming, looking like he was about to lose his mind.
I walked over and recounted what had happened in the future.
"No god has ever been able to claim to my face that they were in the right. Some impudent inquisitor, not even a saint of the evil god, certainly can't presume to debate right and wrong with me."
The only entity I gave any credit as a god was the piece-of-shit god my father had served.
I had no clue what the god's will was; I only regarded it as such out of respect for Father.
Everything else was an evil god, as far as I was concerned.
"Ngh......."
"Hrk—."
I dragged Mel's brother and the inquisitor, both bleeding profusely, toward the door.
'One person behind this door.'
My Spirituality had a function similar to a mage's detection magic, one that grasped everything in the surrounding area.
Having confirmed with my Spirituality in advance, I'd cut down the inquisitor without hesitation.
'The silhouette is definitely Mel.'
This monstrous-strength sensing was rather useful.
With focus, I could even discern the exact shape of a target.
"Thomson, let me introduce you to my companion."
"......O-okay."
Thomson squeezed his eyes shut.
I was glad I'd brought this kid into the Monstrous Strength Mercenary Company.
His nerve was respectable.
Most people, blinded by an inquisitor's miracle, would immediately brand me a heretic. But green as he was, Thomson was still in his right mind. (I'd never experienced it personally, but according to common knowledge, divine power induced a euphoria akin to narcotics.)
'Those who don't get intoxicated by divine power are always welcome.'
Thinking that, I kicked down the wooden door of the dungeon.
CRASH—!!!
Beyond the door were gruesome torture implements and a woman with a sack over her head.
The slender woman squirmed wildly in her chair.
It was Mel.
"S-stop!!! I'll confess everything. P-please, spare me!!!"
The voice was the same.
This was the real Mel.
But.......
'There are no signs of torture?'
A thorough scan with my Spirituality revealed no injuries whatsoever on Mel.
If anything, her body felt healthier than in her previous life.
The 'torture parade' Mel had supposedly suffered at the hands of the Goddess of Justice's church hadn't happened yet.
I paused to comb through my memories.
"Know why I wasn't executed for heresy?"
Mel had been a tough woman.
'Latia, Goddess of Justice' was an insane evil god who carried out systematic torture to uncover the truth.
More precisely, systematic torture began the moment a case was referred to the 'Inquisition.'
The evil god's order had one law: whatever was said at the conclusion of that systematic torture was taken as absolute truth.......
"It's thanks to that evil-god bitch's law that I was acquitted! If you keep saying no even when you're about to die, what the hell can they do?"
In her previous life, Mel had endured every last horror and proven, 'I am not an evil god worshipper!'
But what about the Mel of right now?
"EEEEEK—. P-please, let me live!!!"
Not a single mark of torture on her, yet Mel was screaming pathetically and begging for her life.
Where had she gone, the woman of supreme willpower who'd kept my location hidden to the very end, even as the Emperor captured her and cut off her head?
'Mel is Mel, but.......'
Why did this leave a slightly bitter taste?
I steadied myself and pulled the sack from the woman's head.
"Mel, calm down. I'm here to rescue you."
The face beneath the sack was Mel and yet not Mel.
The criminal's brand seared into her forehead was cleanly gone, and our strategist who'd burned with fierce light in a single eye was nowhere to be found.
All I saw was a coward with both eyes wide open, paralyzed with fear.
"M-monster!!! KYAAAAH!!!"
I'd rescued her.
And she was treating me like an assailant and screaming.
On top of that.......
"B-b-b-bodies!! Wh-what are you going to do to me—."
She was petrified at the sight of her own enemies, whom I'd dragged along.
The Mel of the past life would've snatched up a sword and declared she'd behead that bastard of an older brother and the inquisitor herself.
"Sigh......."
A sigh escaped me.
Mel was on the verge of going into convulsions, trembling violently.
How had my strategist ended up like this?
Tremble, tremble—.
But then, why was it?
That look felt a lot like the Mel who'd loved to mess with me in my past life—.
"Bwa ha ha ha ha!!! Boss, why do you look so terrified?"
She smiled brightly and asked.
I was even more dumbfounded.
'Don't tell me......?'
I wasn't the only one who'd come back?
Something I'd never imagined.
I asked Mel.
"You too, Mel?"
"Yup, me too!"
***
The Boss was an idiot.
And yet a magnificent man.
"A gift."
Jack casually tossed her two people reduced to rags.
Mel nodded.
'The Boss is an idiot and a cool guy, and a lunatic too.'
Her younger brother, reduced to a single remaining arm.
And the evil god's devotee, beaten half to death.
"Your bastard of an older brother's mug looks exactly like I heard."
The Boss was beyond the ordinary kind of insane.
He didn't even remember that she'd corrected him on this for twenty years straight.
"No, I said he's my younger brother, didn't I?"
"Didn't you say he was the eldest son?"
Mel explained, once again, that the first daughter was the eldest daughter and the first son was the eldest son.
Jack responded as if it were obvious.
"If they're both first, there's a chance he could be the older one."
Mel squeezed her eyes shut.
The Boss was absolutely not stupid, but.......
When it came to certain topics, his stubbornness was monumental.
If he didn't consider something important, he seemed to intentionally reject the knowledge.
'He's really back.'
Was that why?
The reality of having returned to the past hit harder.
Still, annoyance was annoyance.
"I'm twenty, he's nineteen. Now tell me."
"Hm, so you're the older one, Mel."
"Boss, you idiot."
Mel uttered the words the Boss hated most.
Jack's brow furrowed.
'As if that's such a big deal.......'
Mel knew that expression well.
That was the face he made when his masculine pride took a scratch.
"Your younger self was quite naive, it seems."
Jack produced the tome from within his clothes.
Then asked.
"Or is innocent the word? Leaving the secret of your birth in a written document like this, for anyone to find. It's a waste of the name of the strategist Mel, called the Branded Demon and the symbol of the war of annihilation."
Mel squeezed her eyes shut at the book written in Hangul.