"Human, who allowed you to call my name directly?!"
Albion, in a rather foul mood, spoke coldly with his arms crossed.
"Oh? So Lord Albion isn't human? Umu, I see. Then your habits really are different. Teacher, you have to understand."
Nero laughed cheerfully and casually observed the haughty Phantasmal Species. Thinking of how pitiful he had seemed just moments ago, only to put on such an arrogant act now, she found it quite amusing.
"Oh, right, I just remembered I have something to do, so I won't disturb you and Lord Albion any longer, Teacher."
Nero pressed her forehead against Novia's abdomen, then looked up at him. After speaking quickly, she let go, glanced at Albion, and left of her own accord. She could already imagine the look of gritted teeth on his face.
What was the big deal? He was just someone Teacher was using. No matter how much Teacher valued him, he couldn't possibly be more important than me. After all, Teacher controlled me with poison...
Nero understood that such thoughts were strange—absurd, even.
People would definitely say there was something wrong with her head, but that couldn't be helped.
At that moment, Novia stared directly at Nero rather than Albion.
"Nero."
"...Y-Yes."
Hearing Novia call her, the girl turned around, answered in a stiff voice, and nodded.
Nero thought her thoughts had been exposed. Her heart began pounding wildly for no reason, and as for her flushed cheeks, the sun was bright enough that they probably had not been noticed.
However, Novia had not considered such things. He simply said to her:
"I've always thought this. Your songs have the power to make people happy, and more people should hear them. So keep working hard."
Watching the two of them gradually depart, Nero lowered her delicate, golden-thread-like lashes and considered Novia's words.
After all, she knew perfectly well what effect her performance at the Triumphal Ceremony had produced, even if no one had said it aloud.
"...I suppose it would be better to suppress the urge to kill that guy. I'll let him be pleased with himself for a few days."
She suddenly muttered softly. Magic power gathered at her fingertips as she took out the Golden Laurel that had rested atop Novia's head during the Triumphal Ceremony. Her gaze burned as she stared at the laurel, gently brushed it, and placed it back on her head.
She was the most important person in Teacher's heart. Nero had absolute confidence in that, and it would never, ever change.
The Burial Agency's Visit and the Man Who Had Yet to Become an Ancestor of Dead Apostles
The noon sun hung high in the heavens, casting light upon all living things with its overwhelming presence.
"I am Narubareck, the current head of the Burial Agency. It is an honor to meet Lord Novia."
The man whose right eye was concealed by his hair let his gaze rest on Novia before him. Perhaps because Novia's deep blue eyes possessed an indescribable charm, as though they could seize one's soul, Narubareck unconsciously shifted his attention to the surroundings.
Aside from a square whitewood table and four chairs woven from wheat straw, there was no other furniture. Above them, where a mirror would ordinarily hang, was a silver-bronze cross fixed against black thread and set in a dim golden wooden frame.
There was nothing luxurious here. Yet the simplicity, coupled with the miracle he had witnessed with his own eyes, naturally made him regard this place as an incomparably solemn space.
"Since you are already here, I assume you understand the message I had Kouhaku convey."
"We shall naturally obey your decision, my lord. From this day onward, the Burial Agency will no longer remain independent and will heed your command. Across all Forty-five Provinces of the Roman Empire, unnecessary personnel have been reassigned. In the future, we will also recruit capable individuals from outside."
Narubareck could only smile bitterly as he listened to Novia's gently smiling words, because for the Narubareck family, this was neither a good nor a bad decision.
Every head of the Burial Agency bore the inherited name "Narubareck." Since its establishment, the position of leader had always been held by someone from the Narubareck bloodline. Even the Burial Agency had never recruited outsiders, all to ensure the absolute purity of faith and character.
Previously, they had remained independent from Judaism. That was why, even when Doro, the King of Antichrist, had demanded that they assassinate Novia, they had rejected him without hesitation. Narubareck believed it was merely a conflict of doctrine and saw no reason to intervene.
However, during the battle of Jerusalem, when darkness covered the earth for three minutes, Narubareck realized that his line had committed a grave mistake. They had failed to assist the Lord's messenger. It was a sin deserving of death.
Just as he was considering how to cleanse himself of this guilt, Kouhaku arrived carrying Novia's request.
For the current Burial Agency, the visit of a True Ancestor Dead Apostle was like facing a formidable enemy. Aside from their leader, they lacked the ability to deal with a Dead Apostle of such rank. Yet after learning that Kouhaku was a former fellow believer and had come with a message from Novia, they were somewhat reassured.
But once they learned of Novia's demands, the Burial Agency erupted into argument again.
Novia's demands were as follows:
From now on, apart from the leader still being the strongest Narubareck, every other member of the Burial Agency was to be chosen according to ability. As long as someone was strong enough and capable of eliminating targets that could not be dealt with openly, they would be welcome regardless of status. Even nominal believers were acceptable.
Seven people, along with one person personally selected by him, would form a new Burial Agency.
Those who did not need to remain in the Burial Agency were to be assigned to the major cities across the Forty-five Provinces of the Roman Empire, where they would oversee newly established churches, deal with hidden Dead Apostles, and spread the doctrine.
Novia's actions could be said to have directly scattered the Burial Agency, which had been passed down through a single line for so many years. Naturally, this had caused inevitable internal conflict.
Yet after giving it some thought, Narubareck agreed without much hesitation and came alone to demonstrate his sincerity.
He understood that Novia wanted an absolute group of killing mages, the sort in which every member could kill a True Ancestor Dead Apostle. At the same time, he wanted ordinary people everywhere to have some hope when facing Dead Apostles through simple means.
Among the ranks of Dead Apostles, the first few ranks were, at most, comparable to ordinary beasts. If one gathered the courage to resist, death was not inevitable. The problem was that they were humanoid creatures, so ordinary people would instinctively fall into fear and find it difficult to fight back.
"Give me a list of those people. I'll contact the churches in each region and have the matter passed on."
Though Novia's words could be considered rather blunt, Narubareck felt no discomfort. Instead, he felt it was only natural.
"Yes. I have prepared it for you. There are one hundred and thirty-five people in total. Please review it."
Narubareck took a letter from his pocket and handed it to Novia.
"Let me see..." Novia flipped through the letter and saw an unexpected name. He casually asked, "By the way, are the names in your family all inherited through a single line?"
"Yes. Aside from the name Narubareck, which is held by the strongest person in the family, there are various other names that must be inherited through battle. To maintain purity, the defeated party is executed."
"I see."
The reason Novia had specifically asked was because he had seen a familiar name on the letter Narubareck had handed over—
Be-Zel.
The same name as the Twenty-Fifth of the Twenty-Seven Dead Apostle Ancestors: Be-Zel, the sword monk who possessed the principle of the sword and had created swordsmanship capable of killing Dead Apostles.
He seemed to remember that this Ancestor of Dead Apostles, who had been Ciel's and the Nineteenth Ancestor's teacher, was thought to have been a famous Church priest and the finest swordsman of his age around the year 300, as well as the inventor of the Black Key. Perhaps the current Be-Zel was his ancestor.
"From now on, abolish that rule." Novia raised the letter and closed his eyes. "The losing side does not have to die. There will always be people who do not wish to win. Let them hide their names and establish monasteries to take in abandoned children. The Empire and the local churches will provide a certain amount of financial support."
"Understood." Narubareck nodded. "Is there anything else you require of me? I see that you have no guards around you. Would you like me to—"
"No need. In a few days, my teacher and the eleven apostles of Jesus Christ will arrive. Come meet them with me then."
Although Albion, who had returned to the spear the moment someone arrived, said nothing, Novia did not need to think to know that he was certainly watching the entire time. If Novia agreed to Narubareck's request, Albion would definitely be in a bad mood.
The last time Nero had returned, Albion had bitten him again. Fortunately, he had only left teeth marks rather than tearing off a piece of flesh.
"Yes."
"Oh, and help me find someone these next few days. Her name is Locusta. She has green hair and should be living in the forests of Gaul, surviving on mushrooms every day."
It was strange. Novia clearly remembered that this mushroom girl, skilled in using poison, had been shunned by ordinary people due to her unstable mind and could only live in the forest, surviving on mushrooms. Yet because of her knowledge of herbalism, she had been hired to use poison for murder and profit. Since those who hired her were all influential people, she had escaped prison every time. By all rights, she should have been easy to find.
Yet he had not received a single scrap of news about her, which inevitably puzzled Novia.
"Hmm... one person. Understood."
Finding a single person in vast Gaul could be considered troublesome, but for Narubareck, who could rival a normal Ancestor of Dead Apostles, it was quite easy.
The Compilation of the New Testament and the Key of Heaven
Ash-gray snowflakes drifted gently from the sky into the city of Rome.
"I believe it is necessary to compile all of your letters and written scrolls into a new covenant, distinguishing it from Judaism and making it part of the New Testament."
Novia spoke slowly to the people before him.
For Peter, who was listening.
The word "scripture" carried a special feeling.
Because his fate had been decided then: at the beginning on the Sea of Galilee, and through the witness atop Golgotha.
To the Peter of the past, that man had been everything to him. He had never imagined that one day, that man would leave his side.
Yet that day, the eleven apostles had been forced to accept—
Jesus's suffering.
To let such a being die was the work of demons, an unforgivable sin.
Who had that sacrifice been for? What, exactly, had it been for?
If asked, that man would surely smile and say it was so that the people of the world would no longer bear sin.
That was why Peter had closely watched Paul ever since. Even though Paul had once criticized him bluntly, Peter greatly admired him.
Because Paul, who had once opposed Jesus, was highly capable. He could spread the beliefs of their teacher Jesus across the Mediterranean and even throughout the entire Roman Empire.
By all reason, Peter perhaps should have resented Paul, because he was the one Jesus had entrusted with everything and should have been the true leader.
But Peter had not done so. He felt that he was not qualified.
Because when Jesus had been interrogated by the High Priest in Jerusalem, Peter had been afraid and denied his teacher-student relationship with Jesus three times.
Even though he had later been forgiven, Peter could not bear to calmly accept such blasphemy from himself.
The old man's clouded eyes cleared slightly as he looked at the man who had invited this group of old men to Rome to discuss their teacher Jesus. He had once met this child when he had gone to Paul's place. Now, he had grown so much, accomplished deeds far surpassing theirs, and avenged the hatred all eleven of them had long buried in their hearts.
Novia's purpose in calling them here was actually very simple. He hoped to compile everyone's letters and written scrolls as part of the New Testament. He also suggested that, if possible, each person should take responsibility for the foundational development of Christianity in at least one province, because it was currently growing too wildly and too quickly.
It was dazzlingly bright. Peter slowly closed his eyes, feeling that the sunlight outside had probably irritated them, which was why tears seeped out uncontrollably.
"This is how it should..."
Peter let out a deep breath and lowered his head deeply, deeply.
"Hey, Peter, why are you so absent-minded? You are already so old. Today should be a day worth celebrating."
Paul, seated beside him, patted Peter's shoulder.
"I am truly sorry."
Peter gently shook his head to keep the tears from falling.
"You did nothing wrong. The one at fault... was me."
"That is not true."
"I scolded you publicly before and made things difficult for you."
"No, it was nothing like that. Whether in the past or now, I... certainly..."
Before Peter's blurred vision stood his teacher.
"...Certainly..."
That man—
"Certainly was very happy. I once heard that Teacher Jesus encouraged you not to yield, to cast the net into the sea again, to walk upon the water, to bravely face your own weakness, to follow Him on the road to the cross, to lay down your life for your brothers, and to tend His flock. So please, be happy. What the world needs more are real people, not those who transcend humanity."
"You are the unquestionable rock, as dependable as stone. Paul and I have always thought so. We should all be more like you."
Novia smiled as he spoke to the Peter who seemed about to cry.
Seeing the silver-haired youth's smile, Peter suddenly wanted to laugh, but if he did, the tears would surely fall.
Once, Jesus had said this to him:
I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you release on earth shall be released in heaven.
If you put it that way, I don't want to hand over this gift after all.
Reminded by this child of what his teacher had once said, Peter's wounded heart found its strength again.
"Novia."
Peter's expression suddenly became solemn, making people unconsciously fall silent.
"Please speak."
Looking at Novia, Peter saw his confident self reflected in those sea-blue eyes.
The old man looked at his own hand, then finally grasped the ordinary key hanging from his chest. As though confirming the existence of something, he clenched it tightly in his palm.
"I have decided. I will give this to you."
He did not know whether his teacher would be angry, but in the end, the current situation had not been created by him. It had been created by Novia. Still, with Teacher's personality, he probably would not be angry.
Thinking this, Peter continued.
Before you continue