There Is No World For ■■
Chapter 171: For Whom the Bag Opens (2)

* * *

“You crazy commie bastard…!”

The Saintess drew her revolver and pointed it straight at Bykov’s head.

“You’re saying you’re going to nuke the Empire’s capital? Huh? Do you even know how many people are gathered there right now?”

The cold muzzle was pressed firmly against Bykov’s blood-soaked forehead.

Despite the blessed bullet ready to pierce his skull at any moment, he answered calmly.

“Of course, I know. I’m well aware of… how many oppressors are gathered there.”

“…”

“The Emperor, kings, mages, knights… the trash of an era—the ones left behind by the United States, fearful of the proletarian revolution. Using their deaths as kindling, the flames of revolution will spread across this land once again.”

The Saintess gritted her teeth. Her eyes, hidden beneath the blindfold, trembled.

“And what about the civilians? The innocent civilians gathered in the capital—aren’t they proletarians, too? Is killing them really your idea of a revolution?”

Bykov fell silent for a moment. Was he regretting his actions or feeling remorse? No, that wasn’t it.

He raised his head, stared directly at the Saintess’ face, and answered.

“…I genuinely want to say this to you: Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit¹.”

Not a verse from the scripture of the Five Gods, but a passage from Earth’s Bible.

Through that verse, Bykov had equated the innocent civilians to seeds that must die—a sacrifice to be endured for the greater cause.

“How dare you commie bastard… quote the Bible!”

Having studied the scriptures of countless religions since her childhood, the Saintess instantly saw through Bykov’s intentions.

She bit her lip in disbelief. How dare he justify the mass slaughter of civilians using the Bible?

And a commie, no less? Especially since Marx himself had decried religion as the opiate of the masses!

Regardless of the Saintess’ anger, Bykov smiled.

“Even a commie needs a bit of opium occasionally, wouldn’t you agree with me, Saintess?”

“…”

Unable to restrain herself any longer, she tightened her grip on the trigger, intent on blowing his head clean off.

But just then, as if struck by an earthquake, the entire armory shook violently. And moments later, the largest monitor in the control room lit up on fire.

Then, almost instinctively, the group turned their heads toward Yeomyeong’s back and the large wall monitor beyond it as an image of a towering missile on its launch pad appeared on the cracked surface of the massive wall monitor.

* * *

The rear passage of the underground armory that Yeomyeong and the group had passed through earlier.

Rumble…!

The Southern Count Palatine and Ekatherina frowned simultaneously as they felt the vibrations rising from beneath their feet.

“It’s too late. Far too late.”

Realizing these vibrations were caused by the missile launch, the Southern Count Palatine let out a deep sigh. He gripped his staff tightly to prevent himself from collapsing.

“Your Majesty… I sincerely apologize. I have failed. Because of my negligence, Your Majesty has missed the chance to escape this vile constitutional monarchy…”

The elderly Count Palatine trembled as if he might start weeping at any moment, but Ekatherina, standing beside him, appeared indifferent.

Even that was understandable. After all, the Empire’s Emperor had no intention whatsoever of escaping America’s influence.

Disregarding his advanced age; his character had always been like that.

He was the same man who, for his own safety, offered elixirs to Stalin and betrayed the Margrave.

And now he believed a few nuclear missiles would allow him to stand up to America? They’d be lucky if he didn’t sell those missiles to America first.

Of course, Ekatherina didn’t bother saying this out loud. After all, this retrograder still had some use to her.

“Save your confession for later. We haven’t failed yet.”

“What do you mean, yet? They’ve already launched the missile!”

Ekatherina gestured with a flick of her finger as she spoke.

“Do you think there’s only one missile in a place this large? And the one just launched… is most probably a decoy missile for launch confirmation.”

“A decoy missile? Do you take me for a fool who can’t distinguish hope from delusion?”

Perhaps he flushed his age down the toilet; the Southern Count Palatine refused to act according to her wishes. Swallowing her irritation, Ekatherina continued speaking.

“Just because you hate hope doesn’t mean you should let yourself be swallowed in despair. Think carefully. Why do you think they launched the missile now?”

“…To self-destruct?”

“Have you been watching too many Earth movies? Once a nuclear missile is launched, that’s it. There’s no self-destruct button.”

“…”

Ekatherina sighed deeply and started walking. After a moment’s hesitation, the Southern Count Palatine followed her and asked.

“…What do you think the chances are?”

“It depends on how brutal the fight between those greenhorns, already exhausted from battling the dragon, and the Eastern Count Palatine was. If they both perished, we can take it for free. But if one side managed to win decisively…”

“If one side won?”

“Well, then things will get complicated, won’t they?”

Hearing that, the Count Palatine began to pray earnestly, hoping both sides had annihilated each other.

Please, let that parasitic wretch from the East and the greenhorn named Cheon Yeomyeong die together as fools!

However, when the control room came into view as they reached the end of the corridor, his hopes were shattered thoroughly.

The Eastern Count Palatine was beaten to a pulp; the Rat Beastfolks outside the main gate were fidgeting nervously; meanwhile, Cheon Yeomyeong and his group seemed completely unharmed

“…Tsk, the Eastern Count Palatine was even more incompetent than I thought.”

Ekatherina muttered, biting hard on her thumb. So hard, in fact, that blood began to seep from it.

And astonishingly, as she raised her bleeding thumb and waved her hand through the air, the droplets of blood that were about to fall floated upward, defying gravity.

The blood spread out, forming a translucent barrier in midair.

“What is this?”

“A spatial barrier magic, perfect for sniping.”

As she said, neither their presence nor even a trace of mana could be felt beyond the barrier. It was a peculiar magic that even the old Southern Count Palatine had never seen before.

Ekatherina then spoke again while drawing more blood.

“We’ll have to make this difficult.”

Watching the blood she extracted transform into a massive spear, the Southern Count Palatine responded.

“…And how do we proceed?”

“Sniping. We’ll give back what we received.”

Her gaze was fixed on the priest wearing a blindfold. It was an ill-fated connection stemming all the way from Manchuria.

“Star Entrails won’t like it, but since things have already twisted this much… let’s start with that bitch who’s been getting on my nerves.”

* * *

Flying through the city to clear out the remaining undead and Rat Beastfolks, Orsay Taboul furrowed its brow as it sensed massive vibrations coming from underground.

Was it just an earthquake? No, that couldn’t be it. Its dragon’s instincts kept issuing relentless warnings.

So, what was happening in the world?

The Red Dragon flapped its wings as it soared toward the source of the tremors, recalling Cheon Yeomyeong and his group, who had gone underground.

The dragon’s colossal body cut through the wind, flying swiftly.

And before long, Orsay Taboul arrived above a small junkyard at the outskirts of the city.

Emanating a revolting stench, it was a place piled high with abandoned construction materials, waste, and even animal carcasses.

And this very junkyard was the source of the tremors.

Were there still undead squirming below the junkyard?

As the dragon entertained this suspicion, a round lid, hidden beneath the trash-strewn ground, suddenly flipped open, revealing a large hole beneath it.

And inside that hole…

[A missile? Why is there one here…?]

Before the dragon could finish its thought, the missile was launched.

A deafening roar, accompanied by flames filling the silo…

The missile surged through the fire and headed skyward.

Feeling an ominous premonition, the Dragon unleashed a spell toward the missile, but it accelerated and barely managed to escape the spell’s range.

And thus, a nuclear missile was launched, destined to bring death to hundreds of thousands.

* * *

All the citizens of Dreitherial could clearly see the missile soaring into the sky.

However, even among the citizens, only a very few knew what a missile was, and there was only one person who recognized it as a nuclear missile.

And that was the one-armed elf, Finel.

“…Damn it.”

Those were the elf’s first words upon seeing the flying missile.

Balagu, who had been shooting at the zombies swarming toward the inn, furrowed his brow slightly on hearing the usually reserved elf curse.

“Finel, do you know what that is?”

“Of course I do.”

Clenching his only remaining fist, Finel took a short, steadying breath before he voiced the worst possibility.

“That is a nuclear missile. If it’s been launched… it means Cheon Yeomyeong has failed.”

While it was clear that Yeomyeong wasn’t dead yet as he still could feel the World Tree’s mana from underground…

It also meant that he had failed to stop the missile launch.

Finel glanced at the people lingering in the inn, then turned to the orc, who was wearing the Southern Count Palatine’s face, and spoke.

“Balagu, it seems things are going poorly. Let’s proceed with the next plan immediately.”

“The next plan…?”

“We’ll use your face to take over the Southern Count Palatine’s court.”

“…”

Balagu swallowed hard. While Yeomyeong had mentioned something along those lines, that was supposed to be a last resort if they couldn’t hold their ground at the inn. They had done an excellent job defending it so far, and they were still managing to hold out.

But if they left for the Southern Count Palatine’s court right now… he wasn’t sure if the children and women would be able to keep up.

Balagu clenched his fist, then looked out the window.

The children were shoving zombies off the barricade, the women were firing their rifles. Even the prostitutes were hastily moving the wounded soldiers.

There were no weak people who needed his help out there.

Just like him, they were all citizens of the city, struggling desperately to survive.

As if coming to a realization, Balagu unclenched his fist and turned back to Finel.

“…Is this something that will help Mr. Yeomyeong and Ms. Seti?”

“Far more than staying holed up in this inn.”

“Fine then… I’ll proceed with the next plan. I’ll inform Joseph and the others to get ready to leave.”

* * *

Seti stared blankly at the monitor on the control room wall.

As soon as the missile left the launch pad, a simplified map and a countdown timer popped up on the monitor.

4:58

Roughly five minutes—That was how long it would take for the missile to reach the Empire’s capital.

“No…”

Upon seeing that, the Saintess collapsed to her knees. She began trembling silently, likely shedding tears.

And her younger sister wasn’t much different either. Neti stood there frozen, her vacant gaze fixed on the monitor.

And Yeomyeong? He was moving around the control room busily, frantically searching for a solution. That unyielding determination was so like him.

And Seti herself?

She felt nothing—or rather, she was pretending to feel nothing.

Because someone in their group needed to remain composed.

Internally, she was desperately racking her brain. The catastrophe the nuclear strike would unleash, the future that catastrophe would bring about…

Once the Empire’s capital was destroyed, then the remaining nuclear missiles here were likely to be targeted by every nation from Earth.

Especially the United States, the world’s only superpower. There was no way they would tolerate a mad communist who had dared to deploy nuclear weapons.

In the end, Yeomyeong would be forced to abandon the nuclear missiles and flee the city with haste.

As Seti began to ponder over the political void the fall of the Empire would create and the ensuing shifts in international relations that would follow…

Gulp. She swallowed a surge of emotion.

Even on the brink of a catastrophe that would claim hundreds of thousands of lives, she was weighing the pros and cons.

However, what else could she do? She wasn’t a Saintess, and even less so a hero.

She was just a small, insignificant person who could only do what was within her reach.

She suppressed her emotions and comforted herself. To her, Yeomyeong’s future mattered more than the deaths of hundreds of thousands of strangers she didn’t know.

But just as her thoughts arrived at that conclusion—

She caught sight of someone’s glowing eyes from under the red lights of the control room.

It was the same woman she had smashed with her hammer on the surface earlier. Was her name Ekatherina?

She had no idea how the woman had managed to survived, but hovering before her were five massive spears that could rival siege weapons.

She could neither detect her presence nor her mana—how was this possible?

The woman’s lips curved into a smirk as their eyes met.

“Everyone, get dow—!”

However, before Seti could even finish shouting, the spears had already been launched.

The five spears, each imbued with enhancement spells, tore through the air.

It was a deadly ambush, targeting the battle-weary group.

In the face of that, Seti’s thoughts accelerated as the spears drew closer. In a span of time that could only be called an instant, dozens of scenarios flashed through her mind.

Yeomyeong could block three of the spears. No, knowing him, he could probably block four.

But what about the fifth? The one outside his range was hurtling straight towards the head of the kneeling Saintess.

Would the Saintess be able to dodge it? No, she wouldn’t. Should she be left to her fate?

The rational calm she had maintained until now replied: no, she couldn’t leave her to die.

Think rationally. The Saintess could use her healing miracles.

At that moment, Seti realized she could just push the Saintess aside, albeit barely, and take the spear in her place.

Block it with her body, and then get healed. Yes, that was the best option.

But what if the attack was so severe that the Saintess wouldn’t be able to revive her?

Unfortunate as it would be, even in that case, taking the hit in place of the Saintes was the right choice.

After all, the Saintess would be more beneficial to Yeomyeong in the long run than she could ever be.

It was logical. It was a rational sacrifice, and so Seti pushed the Saintess aside.

!

And in the next moment, a spear pierced her abdomen.

She didn’t feel pain. Instead, she could distinctly feel her mana spiraling out of control, tearing her blood vessels apart.

Ah, this can’t be healed.

Feeling the aorta in her heart rupture in succession, Seti managed to force a final bitter smile. Soon, her body went limp like a puppet with its strings cut.

Then came the sound of rushing footsteps, followed by shouts and screams.

Everything sounded faint and distant. Her vision began to blur, her consciousness fading slowly.

Was this death? Unbelievable, to think she’d die saving the Saintess of all people…

Still… it wasn’t so bad. While she didn’t have many happy memories, the fact that she could die surrounded by the ones she loved felt like enough.

And if she had one last lingering concern, it was that the Saintess would probably name her future child after her.

A child named Seti? That’d be too much, wouldn’t it?

With that silly thought as her last, Seti closed her eyes.

Or rather, she was about to.

However, at that very moment, her god held onto her fading consciousness.

『Well done, First One.』

『You’ve changed the future.』

A silent laughter escaped her.

3 minutes and 12 seconds remaining until the nuclear missile’s detonation.

Footnotes

1. 1. John 12:24

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