Cecilia's Madness

After making all the necessary preparations, Ansu decisively activated the [Simulation].

Darkness gradually shrouded his vision, and the ornate countdown timer appeared before his eyes once again...

[Future: 10 hours later]

[Light Calendar 625, April 18th, 04:05]

[Starting simulation...]

He opened his eyes once more.

The surrounding environment had changed drastically. Ansu found himself in a strange, dilapidated wooden shack. The air was cold and damp, and he could hear the rhythmic sound of crashing waves in his ears.

Looking out the window, he saw that because the morning sun had yet to rise, a thick fog hung over the seaside, making his vision hazy and indistinct.

How did I end up by the sea?

Benalu City was a harbor city, and his current location seemed to be in the outskirts, far from the commercial port. The air was filled with a fishy stench; it was likely some nearby fishing village or a dockside pier...

Ansu kept observing his surroundings. At the same time, besides the fishy smell, he caught another scent...

A faint smell of blood.

Ansu hurried to the window and immediately noticed signs of a struggle around the shack. Not far away, there were even a few corpses of priests dressed in white robes lying on the ground...

This...

Without needing to think too hard, if things went as expected, then something unexpected had happened...

Right! Ansu suddenly thought of something and quickly took out the notebook he had tucked into his pocket.

He flipped to the page where he had made his notes, but when Ansu saw the lines of strange text, his expression froze.

Wait, what on earth did I write here?

On the paper, apart from the few lines of Chinese characters he had recorded at the beginning, the rest consisted of bizarre, distorted square symbols that looked like AI-generated gibberish...

It was practically like the language of the Old Gods; he couldn't understand a single word!

Damn it! Did my attempt to exploit a system loophole fail?

But that shouldn't be right. After all, the system had stated from the beginning that this was a top-tier simulation engine capable of perfectly simulating the future. My past actions should have had an impact on the future...

For example, if I were drinking milk before the simulation, then after the simulation, that glass of milk should either be in my stomach or spilled; the object should have a persistent existence...

But just as he was pondering this, a miraculous scene occurred.

As Ansu continued to stare at these blocks of text, the strange "Old God script" began to clarify in his perception. The simulation system was gradually correcting the "changes" he should have caused.

Ansu vaguely recalled the events that had transpired for each entry, and many memories flashed back into his mind.

That's more like it...

These were still my own memories. It seems the system is reliable after all.

Ansu breathed a sigh of relief in his heart. Taking advantage of the current calm, he began to read the distorted text, which was becoming legible, while quickly recalling the events.

"About an hour later, I followed Freya to the Holy Dome Cathedral. To avoid drawing attention, I wore simple robes, disguising myself as a member of the clergy."

"The three papal candidates Freya mentioned—Paul, Leonard, and Archbishop Terry—were all present. Freya held a secret meeting with them."

"I couldn't hear the content of their meeting, but they must have had a heated argument, as Archbishop Terry stormed out, slamming the door behind him."

The image of the three bishops arguing vaguely surfaced in Ansu's mind. This turn of events was beyond his expectations; after all, Freya had given him her word, but the attitudes of these three individuals were impossible to reconcile.

"The 'good guy' Bishop Paul seemed to have a major conflict with the hot-tempered Archbishop Terry. Like Freya, Paul was convinced that I was the Chosen One. He told me that The Church would become my solid backing. Archbishop Terry, however, believed I was an impostor, a blasphemer, and a practitioner of witchcraft who should be immediately detained and sent to the Inquisition."

"Finally, through the mediation of another bishop, Leonard, the dispute between the two came to an end."

"Little fool Freya didn't seem to expect things to turn out this way. She was full of apologies to me, saying that no matter what happened, she would stand by my side."

Recalling this, Ansu didn't even know how to tease Freya; this little saint thought things were far too simple.

Wherever there are people, there is politics. When a "Chosen One" appears who stands above the entire Church and under the deity, do the believers listen to the Pope, the bishops, or the Chosen One? The waters here run deep.

The original sheet of paper was already full, so Ansu continued to flip to the next page.

"Mr. Paul whispered to me that he and Archbishop Terry had irreconcilable differences in their philosophies. He told me not to worry and that he would do his utmost to protect the Chosen One."

"Archbishop Terry's attitude toward me was quite hostile. Even though I had previously warned them that a cult organization was planning to launch an evil sacrificial ritual at the academy, he still didn't believe me and thought I was an impostor spreading rumors."

"He believed that after the last suppression operation, these surviving heretical rats were under control and that it was absolutely impossible for them to pull off such a thing at the academy. He looked quite certain."

Ansu gradually revealed a suspicious expression.

This is very strange. Cultists feel like they're everywhere to me, yet Terry, a high-ranking member of the Church, is lying through his teeth. Does he really not know? Or is he pretending not to?

"Freya was puzzled by the fact that I kept holding my notebook and writing in it. I couldn't be too obvious, so I could only record things briefly afterward."

"Bishop Paul didn't quite believe that the cultists could pull off such a large-scale operation either. I told him and Freya about Cecilia, and Bishop Paul finally believed me. Freya told me not to worry; with the help of The Church, even the Ash Witch could not harm me."

The subsequent notes were very chaotic and brief, clearly recorded in a rush.

"I stayed at the cathedral until the early hours of the morning."

"Before I left, Bishop Terry came to speak with me in private, and Freya was very nervous."

"To think Bishop Terry guessed that I am currently deeply entangled with the Echo of Truth Cult? He wanted to learn about that notorious cult and demanded I tell him everything I knew."

"He used this to threaten me, promising that he wouldn't cause me any more trouble in the future if I complied."

"I casually told him some inconsequential things; Bishop Terry didn't seem satisfied, but he had no choice but to let me go."

Recalling this, Ansu felt that this Bishop Terry was very suspicious...

While pondering, he flipped to the next page.

To his surprise, the previously detailed records were suddenly interrupted, and the next page only had a single sentence written in a scrawled hand...

"Holy crap! Cecilia is attacking!"

"..."

Ansu silently closed the notebook and stored it back into his system inventory.

With that Witch by his side, it was certainly impossible to keep records; at the same time, he finally understood what had happened to those corpses outside...

Ansu left the dilapidated wooden shack. The fog had dissipated somewhat, and as his field of vision widened, he saw the abandoned fishing port in the distance.

He walked forward slowly, the number of corpses around him increasing.

Most of these clergymen's bodies were mangled and incomplete; an entire grove of trees had even been stained a deep, scarlet red...

Just how many people did she kill...

Suddenly, Ansu felt a surge of violent magical energy approaching.

"An! Su!"

Cecilia's low, cold voice, devoid of any warmth, appeared behind him.

Ansu whipped his head around.

Cecilia had clearly been through a grueling battle; she was covered in blood, her body riddled with wounds of all sizes, one on her shoulder even deep enough to expose bone.

Black energy, symbolizing profane magic, spread incessantly from her body. Cecilia's demonic traits were on full display, and those eerie, blood-red eyes were locked onto him.

"I thought you had been captured by The Church."

"Heh..."

Ansu had never seen such an expression on Cecilia's face; she was trembling all over, as if suppressing extreme rage.

At the same time, that black, profane aura grew heavier. Black cracks began to spread across her skin, making her look like a white porcelain vase on the verge of shattering.

This was a sign of magical backlash.

As someone with the constitution of a Chosen One, Ansu was severely affected.

The aura of the profane magic made his entire body stiffen, his brain trembling with fear, even causing him to hallucinate that the Cecilia before him was some kind of unspeakable entity...

"You betrayed me! You betrayed me!!"

Cecilia's face was twisted, and she questioned him furiously, "You promised... you promised you would never betray me! Yet you did it anyway! Why? Why would you defect to The Church?"

"I..." Ansu found it difficult to face such a furious Cecilia, not even knowing how to explain.

"Is it because of her? Is it because of her??" Cecilia suddenly pulled a pitch-black object from behind her and tossed it at Ansu's feet.

A pungent smell of blood wafted over. When Ansu saw the round object that had rolled to his feet, his pupils instantly constricted.

It was a human head.

The head of the Saintess, Freya.

Her bloodshot eyes were staring fixedly at him, filled with a trace of despair and resentment.

No matter how rational a person might be, seeing a beautiful girl who had been laughing and talking with him just moments ago reduced to this—a blood-stained head tossed carelessly onto the ground—it was impossible to remain calm.

Ansu covered his mouth, suddenly feeling the urge to retch.

The nauseating sight made him sick, and Cecilia's madness filled him with genuine fear and revulsion.

Seeing Ansu collapse, his body trembling uncontrollably, Cecilia finally laughed.

She laughed a twisted, distorted laugh.