One Flap Of A Butterfly’s Wings

Julie suddenly felt short of breath from the morning, her whole body burning with fever and lacking the strength to move.

A few days earlier, through the introduction of the temple bishop she usually visited, she had been invited to a party attended by the Messengers of the gods.

Although she was not chosen by a Messenger, it was a wondrous, joy-filled day for commoner Julie as she even drank the consoling cup given by Amor’s Messenger.

But after that day, while working, she began to feel dizzy as if struck by severe anemia.

She dismissed it as a menstrual or anemia issue.

However, each day it worsened, and by this morning she could no longer raise her body.

“Ah… Father.”

Julie’s weak voice didn’t even carry past her small door to reach the living room.

Thus Julie drew her last breath while her father waited in the living room for her to come out.

Battlefield of the Gods January 15.

It was the day the first “victim” of the unprecedented plague that would later be called the ‘Plague of Depravity’ occurred.

With more serious illnesses, the host often doesn’t notice the progression.

For a common cold, even a slight worsening brings coughing and fever that announce the illness all over the body.

But diseases that are hard to treat often go unnoticed by the host until they become severe.

The ‘Plague of Depravity’ was no different.

When deaths occurred a day apart in larger and smaller villages of the Holy Alliance, no one found it odd.

When reports came that an entire village had vanished, people assumed monsters or beasts near the northern ruins were responsible.

Historically, such things had happened often enough.

Then across the Holy Alliance villages, people—no, every living thing with life aside from plants—began to disappear entirely.

Houses, storerooms, fences—all remained intact—yet living beings, including people, vanished in a strange occurrence.

Only then did some sense the oddity and call for investigation, but the continent’s attention was focused solely on Battlefield of the Gods and the representatives.

So they dismissed it as the work of monsters.

But there were no signs of battle anywhere in the villages to suggest monsters or beasts had passed through.

Just as the matter was slipping into insignificance, a noble’s daughter contracted the plague.

Clerics poured holy magic into her with no improvement, and the noble’s daughter died.

After placing her body in an ornate coffin and opening it to bring it outside for the funeral, the corpse—without catching fire—instantly had its flesh and bones incinerated and dispersed into the air without leaving traces.

Only less than a handful of gray ash remained in the coffin.

Nobles, relatives, and even the villagers invited to the funeral witnessed the strange event and all thought of the same incident.

‘The villages where people vanished.’

The vanished villages’ inhabitants must have suffered the same illness as the noble’s daughter.

And if those who disappeared were gone, it meant they died—and the disease, by some means, was contagious.

As people realized, shock and terror swept the hall faster than surprise.

“It’s a contagious diseases!”

“Oh! My—goodness!”

“No, it can’t be!”

The funeral hall became a chaotic scene in an instant.

Those gathered hurried to distance themselves from the coffin holding the noble’s daughter and began cursing the local lord.

The disorder escalated to the point that people were injured amid the chaos.

But despite the shouting and the pandemonium, the noble couple themselves were beside themselves.

The cry of contagion consumed their minds with the fear that they, too, would vanish like their daughter.

Sadness at losing a daughter? Of course it’s sorrow.

But the emotion that gripped the noble couple as they watched their daughter die—or rather, disappear—was terror.

A terror as if witnessing annihilation itself.

And the fear that they themselves would soon be obliterated the same way.

A plague that negated existence itself, reducing one to a pinch of dust.

Believing they were likely infected, they had to find a solution.

The lord hurriedly summoned the most capable mage and cleric in the domain.

But the mage didn’t come, and the cleric said it couldn’t be cured and left.

Above all, the cleric’s appearance when visiting the lord’s keep shocked the noble couple.

A bishop-level cleric had come waddling, wrapped head to toe in coverings and wearing an all-in-one suit with gloves and boots, as if they were contaminated.

After that the soldiers left, and villagers began to abandon the domain one by one.

Battlefield of the Gods Year 2, February 1.

Exactly one week after the daughter’s funeral, the noble couple turned to dust and vanished.

A luxurious room. From so lavishly decorated a chamber came a hummed tune that might seem a bit frivolous.

Benialis had, as of yesterday, finally received news that a noble had died from the plague and was so pleased he even sang.

“Hmm-hmm~ As expected, only when nobles die do the old archbishops move their heavy behinds.”

Benialis, smiling at reports of plague damage across the Holy Realm Alliance until yesterday, frowned at the sound of someone entering his door without knocking.

But he couldn’t blame them when the following report arrived.

“Mr. Benialis, an urgent report just came from the clerics at the ‘Wind of Memory’ inn. A representative has entered the inn.”

“What?!”

Startled by the unexpected news, Mr. Benialis leapt up and waved his hand for a detailed report.

“The paladins tried to stop them at first but failed because the representative’s strength was unusual. They ask how to handle them.”

“Handle? Drag them out immediately. Arrest them!”

The cleric reporting the news couldn’t bring himself to agree to Benialis’s shouted command to seize them at once.

“Uh… Mr. Benialis, the person who went in is a representative.”

“Right! Then arrest—! Ah, damn. I see. It’s training season. Then go tell Heitz and Raus I’m sending for them urgently.”

“Yes!”

Benialis’s displeasure at the cleric hastily leaving quickly melted into a pleased expression.

He was looking at a map showing the current spread of the plague. The Dark Empire was absent; it was concentrated only in the Holy Realm Alliance and the eastern Exorsus regions.

From the circumstances so far, it seemed impossible to avoid suspecting the Dark Empire as the main culprit spreading the plague.

Benialis had orchestrated much of this, but with a noble dead from the plague, voices in the Holy Realm Alliance had already begun suspecting the Dark Empire.

“Heh heh. I’ll turn every one of those Dark Empire scum to dust later, but until then people in the Holy Realm Alliance must keep dying. It’s for someone like me, Amor’s representative—surely they can think of it as martyrdom for themselves, right? Heh heh heh.”

Benialis, who had been grinning darkly, composed his expression to solemnity at the sound of hurried steps outside.

Benialis moved to the point without greeting the two men.

“You may have heard: a representative has entered the plague-stricken region. It’s training season, so the temple and paladins can’t step in to apprehend them. So both of you go and either knock them out or subdue them and bring them back. If you capture them alive, lock them in the archbishop’s chamber at Amor’s temple.”

“Understood.”

“Yes.”

But until the two left, Benialis could not have imagined his smile would soon vanish.

About four hours later, the room that had been humming earlier now echoed with raised voices.

Benialis’s thin male voice rose so high it became unpleasant, almost like a hysterical woman’s, carrying beyond the door.

“Say it again! What did that woman do?!”

“When I arrived the patients were clearly treated. Of course they later died from the sleeping gas.”

“…Damn it!”

Benialis sprang up, pacing the room anxiously. What could make him so restless?

“Um… but I locked up the woman who had already been treated.”

“Hey, you! Huh… No, shut your mouth. Think.”

Scolding the other man, he continued pacing and muttering to himself.

“Could another representative be able to heal them? No, no. Even when I tried to, I couldn’t heal them. The medicine that old man made before he died is the only cure. Then what about that woman? No, no. Is it possible another representative could heal them? Really?”

After muttering for a long while, Benialis’s pacing suddenly halted.

Furrowing his brow and grinding his teeth, he took a crystal orb from his robe and infused it with divine power.

Static flickered briefly, and the orb displayed the image of someone in white priestly robes.

“Execute the plan immediately on a larger scale. Exorsus, and up to the Dark Empire.”

…Are you speaking of right now?

“Yes, right now. The entirety of the Dark Empire, the Holy Realm Alliance, and all of Exorsus.”

…If you act so hastily, problems could arise…

“Then just do it when told!”

…Understood.

The orb’s light faded, and Benialis resumed pacing, muttering to himself.

Something had unexpectedly gone wrong.

His pride was wounded that he hadn’t foreseen this variable.

“Um… Benialis?”

“What, what now?”

“What shall we do with that woman?”

The man’s gaze was full of lust; given permission, he’d strip Mae Young-ryeong in an instant.

“You… fucking idiot!”

Smack—!

The man struck by the golden candlestick Benialis hurled was bleeding from his brow.

“Hey, you bastard. I infused that candlestick I threw at your dumb head with divine power. And you only got a small cut on your forehead? Your skull should’ve been cracked. Don’t you get it? Were you dozing off during the ‘transfer’? You idiot! The target is a representative! What are you thinking? You fool! I already have a headache! If you want to play with your groin, go find some commoners on the continent!”

“…Yes.”

“Get out!”

Watching the flustered man leave, Benialis sprinkled looks of contempt and turned to review the plan that would unfold.

They had enough of the plague-causing substance. The timing had been advanced and proceedings were a bit rushed, but it was fine. For now, everything was still in his palm.

Benialis believed that.