OLD-WORLD EXTRA-Chapter 501: Sinner II

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A Few Minutes Earlier

"Sir, is this to your satisfaction?"

Emir, standing behind one-way see-through glass, looked to his left, his inky eyes landing on a priest.

"Yeah, tell your little lady that she did great, and again, offer her my apologies; I don't think one is enough for what I did~."

The priest shuddered and looked down.

"I-I will... But... S-Sir, will you please cover your d-demonic eyes?"

He feigned surprise.

"Demonic? My eyes? What about them is so 'd-demonic?""

With his head still down, the priest pointed at the empty rows of benches nearest to their

room.

"Y-Y-You've killed tens of people... J-just to... just to make a message. Everything about you is sinful... evil... demonic."

Emir chuckled, lowered his shades, and looked back at those visiting the church, his eyes landing on Arthur.

'Bastard came here right on time. I guess a few things will never change.'

Seeing that Emir was ignoring him, the priest put his foot down...

"With this, our transaction is over... sir."

Well, as much as he could at least.

"Yeah, yeah."

Without even looking his way, Emir shooed him off, too interested in what was about to happen.

The priest didn't react and just walked away, leaving him alone in that tiny room just before the carved line.

And yes, since it was before the line where all became unseen and silent, he could see and hear everything.

It wasn't just them and the Creator, but him as well.

The sinner... the demon.

Emir chuckled at the irony of that and sat on a nearby chair.

He watched as Arthur showed multiple emotions back to back, likely talking to his AIS.

Or rather, AIs acting like reincarnates.

To Emir, this still was pretty funny, hilarious even.

The reason for the existence of two was lost on him, however.

Modern ethics.

A cliché where the reincarnator or transmigrator often pushed his own values on the locals of the world he resided in.

Well, that case wouldn't work here as the old man's 'world' was far more cruel than Emir's. If judged by death counts alone, of course.

His inclusion just didn't make any sense if looked at from that perspective.

The salaryman was fine, as he was supposed to be the more logical one of the three, keeping the protagonist on the 'right' path.

Now, however, with the loss of the main system, these too canceled each other out, and the current Arthur was a result.

A worthless bastard who repeatedly made Emir feel embarrassed at how he perceived him two years ago.

'You grow and you learn, I guess.'

As that thought crossed his mind, Arthur reached the end of the queue, finally crossing the line.

"Let's see what you've got..."

Emir leaned back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other, his fingers drumming against the armrest in rhythm with Arthur's shaky breaths.

"Little lamb."

When his blessing made him kneel, Arthur's voice cracked the heavy silence, barely more than a whisper, but Emir could hear every broken syllable.

The rawness in his tone, the trembling notes of desperation, were deliciously pitiful.

Especially this next part...

"I'm nothing. Just a disappointment... even to my enemies."

Oh, that hit Emir like a high, one got after smoking on a full stomach.

"You finally said something true."

He pressed his palms together mockingly, mimicking his prayer.

"Pray harder, boy. Maybe their God will take pity on you."

It was fun. Though if he was honest, it got boring pretty fast.

Arthur's every word wanted the same result.

The prince's downfall.

Hearing that over and over about oneself would undoubtedly sour anybody's mood.

Emir wasn't an exception to that.

But that was not all that affected him.

The words, his appearance, and his hunchback demeanor made him cringe to no tomorrow.

He was just too meager of a man.

Suffering doesn't make one better. It just makes them suffer.

Arthur was the definition of that.

He suffered his entire life, and for what?

What did he gain from that but pain?

Sure, one could get used to pain, get numb to it, but gradual and daily pain that was almost unnoticeable by Emir's standards helped not with that.

It was just suffering for the sake of it.

And for that, Emir was cringing out of his mind.

Still, though, he kept up the same demeanor, perhaps as a masking measure, in case Purple could still see him even after all he did to rid the place of any suspicious devices.

All was courtesy of Lyra, of course.

Once he calmed himself, he took a metaphorical step back and traced the outline of the scene

in his mind, his eyes following the cross until it reached the eye carved at its top, watching

over this pitiful display.

The sight was almost poetic.

He couldn't deny the obvious parallel at play.

The current Arthur looked like him when he was first Awoken From Lies.

Though, instead of crying and begging to some God, he made a promise to himself.

He would become the God that'd save him.

"Pathetic."

The priest's earlier words about his nature came up in the back of his mind.

Demonic? Maybe. But if he was a devil, then Arthur was the perfect tragic hero-weak, full of envy, waiting for a miracle that would never come.

"No!"

Or so he wanted to believe.

The air... it changed, it thickened, it vibrated.

A subtle hum of Aether had surged out of nowhere, and Emir's smirk immediately faltered.

Somewhere deep down, he knew what was going to happen, even when he still couldn't

fathom it.

Arthur, who had sunk into silence, lifted his tear-streaked face in surprise.

The space before him began to twist, reality warping in jagged ripples.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fгeewebnovёl.co𝙢.

A vortex formed, its pull undeniable, threads of Aether weaving into existence.

"What...? Now?"

Emir whispered as the vortex spun faster, its center glowing, and then, as if plucked from the

heart of Creation itself, an Aether Core crystallized into being.

It hovered, pulsating with a deep, otherworldly light bathing everything around it in an

incredibly ethereal glow.

Emir's fingers clenched the armrests, breaking them at once.

...This wasn't supposed to happen-not here, not now, not with him watching.

Anomalies were birthed, yes.

The world had grown stranger, more unpredictable as Aether Influx increased.

But this a perfect Aether Core appearing in response to Arthur's plea-was impossible.

A Holy Relic appearing? Sure, that could've been believable, but... this?

The probability was so close to zero that it might as well have been zero.

Yet there it was, proof that fate, luck, and his Wheel's Fortune had succeeded.

It spun, and against all odds, landed on the winning bet.

Emir sat frozen, a cold sweat beading on his brow.

He watched Arthur's wide eyes, the stunned disbelief mirrored in his own.

If things went per the 'novel,' he would've gotten this Aether Core in an entirely different

way, near the end of the first year.

It would've been in the front lines.

His desperation had forwarded an event for nearly eleven whole months.

The repercussions for that were enormous.

First, Arthur had realized the extent of his luck, his blessing, his ability, {Blessed's Plea}, and

would most definitely activate it through this 'god.'

Secondly, and way more importantly, the third minor disaster was already upon them.

An event solely 'designed' for the main character, where he would experience major character

progression.

The result of the change was unknown; Emir could only guess now, especially when things

had derailed till this previously unimaginable point.

He leaned back and looked up at the dark ceiling, finally taking his eyes away from Arthur.

"Man... I really hate fanatics."