Attendance… plz…)
….
One week later, in front of a desolate church on a certain street in Berlin, Germany.
A petite figure in a black trench coat approached. The boy removed his hat, letting his pale blue hair flutter in the chill wind. A few fallen leaves danced around his feet as he stepped onto the stone porch.
"So this is the Holy Church's local branch… It's certainly shabbier than I expected."
Rimuru chuckled softly. He lowered his head and donned a mask with intricate, blood-red patterns. At the same time, Boundless dissolved into a pool of liquid, slithering silently across the ground.
Knock, knock.
Creeeeaaak.
The heavy, ancient door groaned open just a crack. An elderly priest peered out from the shadows.
"Visiting hours are over. If you wish to pray, please…"
Thwip.
Before the sentence could finish, the clear water on the ground surged upward, instantly freezing into razor-sharp icicles. They punched through the wood and the priest's abdomen with a sickening squelch.
A bright red flower bloomed on the priest's cassock.
Thump.
The old man fell to his knees, gasping. He looked up in terror at the masked figure pushing the door open. The bizarre red markings on the white mask glowed faintly in the dim light, looking less like a human face and more like a demon's visage.
But the priest recognized the energy immediately.
"…Ma… Magus…"
"An elderly Executor? It seems the Church doesn't value this branch very much."
Rimuru crouched down. A layer of azure mana flared from the magic circuits in his chest, enveloping his hands in a cool, soothing mist.
Healing magecraft.
Executors. The Holy Church's inquisitors. Those who hold the power and authority to destroy demons.
They exist to physically eliminate anything that contradicts the Lord's teachings, heretics, demons, Dead Apostles.
Their sole purpose is to ensure humanity manages the planet's Mystery, untainted by non-human filth.
Basically, they were human supremacists. Rimuru had always suspected that Gaia triggering the Notes timeline and summoning the Types to wipe out humanity had a lot to do with these idiots pushing the planet too far.
He placed his glowing hand over the old man's wound. From beneath the mask, his voice came out distorted, like a devil whispering in the dark.
"Now. Please hand over this branch's records on the local Dead Apostles and heretics."
"Otherwise, I will heal you. And then I will do it again. And again. Until eternity."
The priest's pupils shrank to pinpricks.
"You… You are… the Demon hunting the Dead…"
"Oh? So you've heard of me." Rimuru raised an eyebrow behind the mask, a cold amusement seeping into his tone. "That makes things much simpler."
…
Ten minutes later.
Rimuru walked out of the church, flipping through a stack of magically copied documents.
He found the situation laughable.
The relationship between the Mage's Association and the Holy Church wasn't just "bad." Before their peace treaties, they were actively slaughtering each other. Even now, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.
But Rimuru hadn't expected the Church's hostility to be this immediate.
When he first arrived in Germany, he had tried the polite approach. He disguised himself as a wandering magus and visited a church, asking for information.
The priest had smiled, shaken his hand, and then fed him false intel that led straight into an ambush by Executors.
They tried to assassinate him without asking a single question.
"If they had just cooperated from the start, those people wouldn't have had to suffer…"
"And those people wouldn't have had to die…"
Rimuru looked back at the church one last time. High above, a familiar, a bird made of mana, was already soaring into the sky to report the attack.
Rimuru shook his head and let out a small, self-deprecating laugh.
Inside the Clock Tower, he could be the gentle Professor Rimuru. He could care about his reputation, love his students, and be a beacon of positivity.
But out here? Rimuru knew exactly what he was. He wasn't a good person.
To survive in this world, to achieve his goal of returning home, he had to adapt. Darkness, ruthlessness, cruelty, he had to wear them like a second skin.
Of course, he had to admit, killing was still hard. It left a bad taste in his mouth. If those Executors two days ago hadn't cornered him, forcing his hand…
What Rimuru hadn't fully grasped, however, was why the Church had targeted him so aggressively.
It wasn't just general hatred for mages. It was because "a magus taking an interest in Dead Apostles" was a taboo of the highest order.
Just look at Kiritsugu's father, Norikata Emiya. Researching Dead Apostles got him branded a heretic by the Church andslapped with a Sealing Designation by the Association.
Why? Because when a powerful magus starts poking around Dead Apostles, they risk falling. They risk becoming one. And a powerful magus turned Dead Apostle is a nightmare scenario for humanity.
Exhibit A: Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg. The Wizard Marshal. He became a Dead Apostle Ancestor, and suddenly, humanity had to deal with an immortal vampire who could wield the Second Magic.
To the Church, a magus hunting Dead Apostles wasn't an ally. They were a pre-crime. A larva waiting to hatch into a monster. It was the Burial Agency's duty to crush them before that happened.
Rimuru wasn't ignorant of this logic. He just hadn't expected them to act on it so quickly. Or maybe he just didn't care.
Because the result was the same. Even if he was technically "in the wrong" by their laws, what did it matter?
If becoming a Dead Apostle was the key to going home, he would walk that path without hesitation. He might hide it, but he would never abandon it. And if the Church stood in his way? Then killing Executors was just part of the toll.
Will this affect my identity at the Clock Tower?
Please.
The dignified Professor Rimuru, the Fairy Tale Lord, was currently in London babysitting a five-year-old.
What did a "wild magus" running around Germany killing priests have to do with him? Just because they looked similar? Prove it.
Rimuru stopped on the sidewalk, glancing around to ensure the coast was clear. He ducked into a department store restroom.
Black mist surged from his body, swallowing him whole.
A few seconds later, the mist receded. Standing in front of the mirror was a tall, handsome German man with a sharp nose and a stiff posture.
It was the face and identity of one of the Executors he had killed two days ago.
He had to hand it to the Church; their operational security regarding identities was top-tier. He'd been using this face to dodge tracking spells for forty-eight hours, and they still hadn't realized their "comrade" was the enemy.
It almost made him wonder if the person in charge of tracking him was senile.
"Phew. Hopefully, this lead actually pays off."
….
+10 chapters on my p@tr3on: Kazuma_trash
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