Having realized that, one way or another, this night could not end well, Uriah went to a shadowed shelf and returned with a blue glass bottle thick with dust and three iron cups.
As though commemorating the fate that had finally come for him, he boldly uncorked the wine he had received as a gift on his fifteenth birthday and cherished all his life, then poured it into the cups.
He placed the iron cups full of red wine before each of the three seats at the table.
With a faint, self-mocking smile, Uriah raised his cup high.
"To your health."
The Emperor quietly accepted the offered cup and returned the toast.
"And to yours."
As if by prior arrangement, we drank the wine together.
Having emptied my cup, I pressed my lips together, quite surprised by the deep, antique flavor of the wine.
Was this what a final drink was like?
It was piercingly sweet, and a long aftertaste, like lingering attachment one could not sever, tickled my chest and remained there.
It seemed the Emperor, too, rather liked the wine. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, revealing his satisfaction.
Though he was an executioner who had come to utterly destroy this relic of a bygone age, the Emperor had smiled unusually often during this brief time.
What on earth pleased him so much?
What was he so satisfied with that he could grin so leisurely?
I could neither understand it nor wished to.
I simply steadied my camera and captured this final legacy through its lens.
As the Ark's caretaker, preserving the vanishing 'heritage of humanity' was the sole duty entrusted to me.
And there was something I needed to prepare in secret...
Let us wait quietly.
Amid the deep, crimson fragrance of wine, a silent yet fierce, storm-like debate began between Uriah and the Emperor.
On the surface, it looked like a conversation held in an infinitely tranquil, still atmosphere.
In essence, however, it was the fiercest of mental wars, each of them tearing at the other's ideals in an attempt to prove his own convictions.
With seasoned, cutting rhetoric, the Emperor launched a relentless assault upon Uriah's ears, seeking to shake and tear down the roots of the faith to which he had devoted his life.
Yet even amid the Emperor's merciless attacks, Uriah desperately fought back, his faith and unwavering convictions serving as a shield despite the anguish that made his heart bleed.
The Emperor dissected the historical origins of the Church of Thunderstone and the truth or falsehood of the 'miracles' Uriah had believed in, ceaselessly planting seeds of doubt.
Uriah fiercely struck back against that tidal wave of enormous questions, defending the conviction within his heart.
Watching them silently from the side, I felt as though I were witnessing in real time the primordial tragedy of the serpent in Eden whispering doubts and curiosity about God into Eve's ear, tempting her to pluck the fruit of knowledge.
At the end of that fierce argument, Uriah felt that he could no longer listen to the Emperor's arrogant sophistry.
At last, he could bear it no longer and sprang to his feet.
Pointing a trembling finger at the Emperor, he roared.
"You are pathologically obsessed with blood and death! Revelation! Have you forgotten the utterly obvious fact that even all your many virtues can ultimately be attained through noble faith?!"
'Obsessed with blood and death, is he?'
At Uriah's scathing rebuke, I nodded inwardly as well.
The Emperor's philosophy and ideals had always been excessively hasty and extreme.
He saw the whole world only as one immense board. He had never truly tried to gauge the small, humble humanity that breathed beneath it, and had completely ceased to care about it.
Even though those 'small emotions and convictions' were in truth the most fundamental and indispensable values for humans to live as human beings.
Not everyone could become a superhuman like the Emperor through some miracle.
The Emperor denied miracles while desperately pursuing one.
In response to Uriah's sharp accusation, the Emperor answered coldly, his voice rising slightly.
"Uriah, you mistake religion for a force of good only because you cannot face the superstitious barbarism that has pervaded our world's history in blood-red abundance."
"Then, Revelation, have you seen only that barbarism?! Why do you ignore every last bit of goodness that blossomed within it?!"
"Since the distant past, religion has done no more than draw cold boundaries between the peoples of the world, like the deadliest poison. As time passes and blind faith in gods fades, those boundaries will naturally disappear as well. If a new generation welcomes a new era, mingles with one another, and forges bonds, then old historical wounds will finally heal."
The Emperor's eyes flashed as he stared straight at Uriah.
"Superstitious belief in gods and blind faith in transcendent beings do nothing but divide person from person. Anything that divides humanity ultimately leaves behind nothing but inhuman cruelty. Religion is no more than a terrible tumor spreading through humanity's heart, serving such vile purposes."
"Enough!!!!"
With a cry almost like a scream, Uriah roughly cut the Emperor off.
To my eyes, the conviction he had guarded all his life seemed finally to have reached its limit, on the verge of collapse.
Tears welled in the weathered wrinkles around his eyes, and he stood driven to the edge of a precipice.
"I've heard enough! Everything you say is true! Men have committed every kind of terrible and filthy deed in the name of God! But that was only because they committed horrors against one another for their own desires without truly relying on faith! Faith is an indispensable element of the soul, the thing that makes humans most human! If you take that faith from humanity forever, what do you intend to fill that hollow emptiness with?!"
Uriah blankly looked down at his own trembling hands.
The sin he had committed in his arrogant, blood-drunk youth long ago—
the bloody hallucination, as though the stench of blood still clung wetly to those hands—tormented him.
"As a priest, I have lived many long years, tending countless people dying in despair! You cannot dare to belittle the immense spiritual value of faith, which can offer solace to those poor souls and to the ones left behind after they are gone, so that they can endure life!!"
Uriah cried out as if vomiting blood from the depths of his heart.
Even so, the Emperor did no more than coldly shake his head without so much as batting an eye.
"Uriah, there is a fatal flaw in your outcry. The power of religion that you claim offers comfort can no longer demonstrate any credibility or scientific validity. Whispering to the dying that 'after death, you will go to a bountiful and peaceful heaven' may indeed be useful for granting momentary peace. But if they believe that false comfort and die with a smile, does it become truth? It is nothing but perfect deception."
"Even so...!"
With tears in his eyes, Uriah looked straight into the Emperor's.
"Even so, when my final moment comes, I will gladly die with the name of God in my heart!"
The Emperor silently looked down at Uriah's resolute gaze and asked quietly,
"...Are you not afraid of death, Uriah?"
"I am not."
"Truly?"
"Truly."
Uriah quietly clasped his hands together and continued.
"I may be a sinner, but I have lived my entire life serving God. And I dare say that I served Him sincerely."
"Then I would like to know why."
Uriah gave no further reply to the Emperor's cold question.
He left his place, slowly walked to the altar, and laboriously knelt down.
Then, bowing his head before the altar, he tightly clasped both hands.
"The Lord of Humanity is the light and the way, and all His deeds are for humanity. Thus He teaches us order through sacred words, and above all, may the Lord protect us..."
"No one will hear your prayers, Uriah."
At the Emperor's merciless interruption, Uriah closed his eyes and cried out quietly.
"I do not care what else you say! You may have come here for some grand reason, but I will no longer keep company with you and lend strength to your arrogant pride and self-righteousness! So stop this foolishness!"
"...If you insist."
With those words, the Emperor unleashed the overwhelming power he had concealed until now.
"The games are over."
Kwooooo—!
A dazzling golden radiance instantly drove away the darkness that had made the church as gloomy as a tomb.
It even utterly erased Uriah's shadow.
The church interior, once ruled by pitch-black darkness, now brimmed with a brilliance holy enough to inspire awe.
Uriah struggled to raise his trembling body and looked upon the being before him.
A massive, flawless superhuman.
Every corner of the golden armor he wore was exquisitely wrought with lightning bolts and double-headed eagles, fashioned with lavish care and resplendent artistry.
The shabby-clothed 'Revelation' was nowhere to be seen.
In his place stood a colossal giant, proudly clad in a masterpiece that embodied the pinnacle of human craft and the height of nobility.
"Do you understand now how futile everything you have done here has been?"
"Y-you are...!"
Staggering, Uriah sank down beside the altar and drew ragged breaths.
"You are... the E-Emperor...!"
"That is correct. And now it is time to leave, Uriah."
"Leave...? Where could I possibly go? In the 'world without gods' you have made, there is no place for me to dwell!"
"Of course there is. Accept the new path and become part of this magnificent future. This age, this world on which we now stand, is the great foundation upon which we will grasp all that we have only ever dreamed of."
When the Emperor carefully placed a hand upon his shoulder, Uriah felt powerful vitality seep into his limbs along with a comforting warmth.
The warmth of the Emperor's power instantly wiped away the chronic illnesses and pains of age that had tormented him for decades, turning them into remnants of the past.
Uriah raised his head and looked up at the ancient mural painted upon the church ceiling.
Its colors, fading under the encroaching darkness, regained their vitality beneath the Emperor's radiance.
They came completely alive, as though they might writhe to life at any moment.
"This work was never made for darkness."
Looking up at the mural, the Emperor murmured softly.
"It shows its true worth only amid the light. Humanity is no different. Only when we remove the blindfold of religion, which has taught us nothing, can we finally see this world's true greatness."
Uriah barely tore his gaze from the mural and looked once more around the church he had devoted his entire life to tending.
The stained glass shone in golden light with utmost intricacy, giving off a new vitality.
The church's every minute structure once again displayed the great craftsmanship of creators from the old age.
"...I will miss this place."
Uriah muttered bitterly.
"Compared to the majesty of the Imperium of Man I shall build, this place will seem no more than a pauper's hut. Come, then. Let us be on our way."
Following where the Emperor led, Uriah reflected upon the years gone by.
The tragedy that had become the turning point of his life, the noble conviction he had carried all his days—was all of it founded upon nothing but an empty lie...?
No. It had never been a lie.
As he slowly walked toward the entrance, he looked once more at the ceiling mural.
The days when he preached to his congregation every day.
Faces of those who had received every word of his sermons as truth and wept passed through his mind.
Uriah smiled quietly.
At last, he understood.
It did not matter in the least whether his life and faith had begun in misunderstanding or falsehood.
He had sincerely believed what he saw. He had opened wide the heart that grief had hollowed out and come to this church.
And that emptiness had been filled with God's will and love.
'Faith is truly strong because it requires no visible proof. To believe purely is enough.'
He had resolved to devote his life to God, and though the occasion that brought him to that decision might have differed from what he had thought, no regret or anger remained in his heart.
He had sincerely preached love and forgiveness. No subtle rhetoric or sacred power could ever make him regret those great years.
The two finally reached the main doors.
The Emperor pushed open the church's massive wooden doors.
Raindrops and violent wind poured inside, and Uriah pulled his collar tight, striving to resist the bitter cold.
Then he looked outside and froze in shock.
At some point, countless immense armored warriors had formed ranks outside in perfect order.
Rain struck and streamed down their bronze armor, etching lines across it like tattoos.
Whenever lightning split the sky, their bizarre power armor—nearer to artwork than armor—revealed its magnificent majesty.
Even amid the rainstorm, the warriors held torches whose flames crackled on.
Seeing the massive weapons fixed atop their hands, Uriah shrank back slightly as he remembered the terrible cannon fire he had heard amid the slaughter of the Unification Wars, fire that had sounded as though the world itself were ending.
A faint breeze, perhaps mere chance, blew in.
The thick scent of blood brushed past Uriah's nose.
"...Haa."
Uriah turned back toward me, who had stood silently behind him all this time.
His eyes seemed to ask me whether he understood why the giant warriors before him had waited amid the storm, and what true fate awaited this church.
"Noah... Do you think this is the right path? I truly do not know... I have begun to doubt even myself."
At his desolate question, I quietly watched him and spoke in a low voice.
"The reason you suffer at the thought of being lost is because you are obsessed with having to walk only the right path."
With a voice more serious than ever, I offered instruction to the lost child.
"Rather than despairing over the fact that you are lost, the very process of finding the path is a new beginning for reflection, Uriah. So do not let fear take hold of you."
At my words, Uriah went still for a moment and fell into deep silence.
At last, slowly, he turned his head toward the Emperor at his side.
"Your Majesty... Do you truly intend to destroy this place?"
The Emperor looked down at him with an unyielding gaze and answered.
"There are times when it is best for certain things to be completely forgotten by history."
"Then can you fully foresee what will result from a world where God has vanished?!"
Uriah roughly cried out the words he had restrained.
"I can."
The Emperor answered without a single second of hesitation.
"That is my lifelong aspiration and dream: a true Imperium of Man, not swayed by gods or superstitions. A perfectly unified galaxy with Terra as its heart."
"A... unified galaxy?"
Only then did Uriah stand aghast at the vast scale of the ambition the Emperor harbored.
"Yes. Unification upon Terra has been perfectly accomplished. Now we must traverse those distant stars and reclaim humanity's lost territories of old."
"All of it... with you at the forefront?"
"Of course. Only one who can hold a heart that remains constant and unshaken can lead this great and immense undertaking."
"You are mad...! However powerful your warriors may be, do you think you can conquer this vast galaxy so easily?! Did you not speak yourself of the crusades of old rulers, driven mad with bloodlust, and point to them as religion's fatal stain?!"
Uriah shot back sharply. But the Emperor did not so much as stir.
"There is one clear difference. They were wrong, and I am right."
"...You speak like a true tyrant."
"You misunderstand me, Uriah. I have merely seen the one narrow path by which the human species can survive without perishing. Humanity... must walk only this path."
"The path you mean to walk is far too dangerous!"
Uriah cried out as if vomiting blood.
"To blindly deny human nature will only make people cling to it all the more madly! And once you finally succeed in that immense plan, what then? When that day comes, remember this: your subjects and your people will no longer see you as 'human'!"
Uriah looked directly into the Emperor's golden eyes.
And in that instant, he clearly saw the truth hidden behind the veil of grandeur and splendor radiating from the Emperor.
The weary soul of a man who had lived countless lives over thousands of years, who had trodden Earth's soil since a time unimaginably remote.
And Uriah beheld the cold, merciless ambition and cruel violence melted hard into the very depths of the Emperor's heart.
In that moment, Uriah painfully realized that no matter how noble and sublime the future of humanity the Emperor presented might be, he never wished to walk that blood-soaked path with him.
"In the name of all that is holy... the grand design you speak of may itself be right."
Uriah continued in a faintly trembling voice.
"But... I am terribly afraid of the dreadful future you will forge for humanity."
The Emperor gave his weighty promise.
"I desire only the best path for humanity."
"...I believe you do. But I do not wish to accompany you upon that path."
Uriah no longer stepped outside the church.
With a face more serene and peaceful than at any point in his life, he silently watched the Emperor and bowed deeply.
Then he passed quietly by me and slowly walked toward the altar in the church's deepest interior, where darkness lay thick.
Kneeling before the altar and closing his eyes, he began the final worship that would bring his life and faith to an end.
As though answering that noble yet sorrowful air, the enormous bell hanging in the church's high bell tower shook madly amid the raging storm, casting its mournful, resonant peal in every direction.
"...Very well. I shall respect your will."
Acknowledging Uriah's noble choice, the Emperor quietly gave an order to the Custodian Guard arrayed behind him.
The warriors approached with the heavy clank of their power armor, intending to burn this church—the final legacy of the old age—to ash and erase it.
But at that very instant, I alone coldly barred the path of those golden warriors.
"Wait. Take even one more step, and you'll be in serious trouble."
At my low voice, the Custodian Guard leveled their Guardian Spears as one.
The Emperor's eyes gleamed coldly as he asked,
"...What are you doing, Noah?"
"Emperor, do you know the line, 'A man is not made for defeat. A man can be destroyed but not defeated'?"
"A passage from Hemingway's [The Old Man and the Sea]."
"That's right. Leaving aside whether faith exists or not, Uriah has just demonstrated the most radiant hymn to humanity a human being can show. It is a golden spirit far more beautiful and noble than you, surrounded in gold as you are."
"You mean to bar my way?"
"Of course. I am Noah. My sole duty and mission is to protect, maintain, and preserve forever the most valuable legacies left by humanity."
"...Do you intend to take Uriah in?"
"Yes. And..."
I turned my head and quietly looked upon the church behind me, where he was silently offering his final prayer.
"The same goes for this church. This place is an immensely precious legacy, containing as it does the undiluted history of humanity's blood and tears."
The Emperor's face hardened, and a chilling madness stirred in his gaze.
"You are directly obstructing my great path."
"No, do not misunderstand, Emperor. This matter has already completely left your hands. Uriah did not kneel before you, the great conqueror. By his own will, he defended his convictions. Taking in an independent human being who was not conquered by you amid a crisis does not violate the contract between you and me in the slightest."
The Emperor stared at me in silence for a moment, then murmured lowly.
"...So this was what you came here seeking from the beginning."
"That's right. Emperor, countless great legacies of humanity will be destroyed and forgotten on the path of the Great Crusade you will walk. So I will gather and preserve every last one of the things you trample beneath your feet."
As I finished speaking, I smoothly activated the power of Enuncia, the language of the universe, which I had quietly prepared until now.
In an instant, the coordinates of reality surrounding the church began to creak, and space itself started to be cut off.
The enraged Emperor charged fiercely forward, his enormous golden fist clenched as he sought to tear through the severing barrier.
But just before it could be torn apart, I had already completely folded space toward the designated dimensional coordinates of the Ark.
Kwang—!
Upon the hill where storm winds raged alongside lightning, the Emperor and his warriors were left with nothing but empty, cold earth before them.
The last church remaining on Earth, along with its priest, was thus safely preserved by the Ark.
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