Incompatibility
The priestess found this situation nothing but bewildering.
That was only natural. She had thought she was suddenly stabbed to death—yet when she opened her eyes again, everything except herself was dead.
It was as if life and death had been reversed. Was this truly reality? It was hard to believe.
Perhaps because of that, dizziness kept washing over her.
'I feel lightheaded.'
The priestess blinked.
After going through several overwhelming ordeals and losing so much blood, her body was in terrible condition. She felt as though she might faint again at any moment, but she forced herself to endure.
Perhaps he noticed.
The man seated beside her suddenly handed her a chunk of flesh. A piece of inner core sliced off with a machete. The priestess accepted it reflexively.
She stared at the fragment in her hand. It had once been part of an Outer God. It looked like freshly butchered pork.
'Eating this would be sacrilege.'
Refusing was the right thing to do. Having steeled herself, the priestess carefully opened her mouth.
"Um…"
The man slowly turned his head.
What she faced next was a mass of gray scales covering the area around his eyes. His red pupils scattered sparks as though lightning were trapped within them.
A gaze more ferocious than the Hydra's.
Frightened, the priestess faltered.
"... N-no, it's nothing…"
He was more terrifying than committing sacrilege. Survival came first.
The priestess hastily lifted her butterfly mask and brought the inner core to her mouth. Chew, chew. Her jaw moved busily as the dark-side cleric gnawed on the Outer God's core.
Watching her, Woojin tilted his head slightly.
'Is it cold?'
Why was she trembling like that?
Once he finished eating the inner core, he decided he should light a campfire. With that thought, Woojin sliced off another chunk.
'It would've been nice if the wolves were here.'
There was so much of the core that Rex and the wolves would have feasted themselves full. Instead, he was stuffing himself like it was some kind of eating punishment. A waste in many ways.
Woojin stared blankly at the core. He had been eating for quite some time, yet half of it still remained.
"…How am I supposed to deal with all this?"
The thought slipped out of his mouth.
It was an offhand remark to Woojin, but the priestess's heart dropped.
'He's testing my worth.'
She had to find a solution somehow. The priestess hurriedly racked her brain to respond to the command she had just been given.
Fortunately, she had the know-how accumulated from years of living as a dark-side cleric.
"Um… what if we used… that?"
She gestured somewhere. Woojin followed the direction of her finger.
There, rolling across the dirt ground, were empty glass bottles—the potion bottles the dark-side clerics had used earlier to treat the bishop.
Woojin quickly grasped her meaning.
"You're saying we should squeeze the blood out of the core, put it into those bottles, and carry it with us?"
"Y-yes."
The priestess nodded repeatedly. A fairly plausible suggestion. But there was a problem.
"Even if we seal the bottles tightly, won't the core's energy keep leaking out?"
If its energy escaped, carrying it around would be pointless. At his remark, the priestess hurried to add:
"I can use preservation magic."
"You can?"
"Yes. There was a lot of need for it… so I learned it."
It was a high-tier, demanding spell.
Woojin had once tried to learn it himself but had quickly given up. Yet this diligent priestess had somehow mastered it.
'Good thing I kept her alive.'
Woojin felt inwardly satisfied. At last, this long meal could come to an end.
"Alright. Let's bottle the rest."
"I—I'll wash the bottles!"
Though he hadn't ordered her to, the priestess leapt to her feet, hurriedly gathering up the bottles before running down toward the lakeshore.
Watching her, Woojin felt puzzled. For some reason, she was moving briskly—like a fresh recruit who had just joined a unit.
"What's gotten into her?"
He idly spoke to the squirrel.
Instead of answering, it let out a tiny burp.
"—Hic."
"…You can stop eating now."
Having overeaten, the squirrel had become round like a soccer ball.
They carefully squeezed the Hydra's inner core and filled the glass bottles. The total came to thirty. At some point they ran out of potion bottles and had to use every kind of bottle they could find.
It was a labor-intensive task, but well worth it.
Not only was this blood an inner core that granted tremendous strength to whoever consumed it, it was also a potion powerful enough to save someone from grievous injuries.
'I'll keep eight bottles as emergency medicine, and give the rest to the wolves and the Noll tribe.'
Since there were so many bottles, he emptied out his bag and discarded all his belongings. Many of them were valuable, but he felt no attachment.
Woojin carefully packed the bottles into his travel bag, stuffing soft fur between them to keep them from breaking.
'Good… that's done.'
He slung the bag over his shoulder. The squirrel made a small leap, climbed up, settled itself atop the bag, and curled up.
Soon it fell into a deep sleep. It must have gotten drowsy from eating too much.
'It's grown bolder.'
Once so skittish, the squirrel now seemed comfortable enough to sleep beside Woojin.
Preparations to depart were complete.
"Guide me."
"…To where?"
The priestess asked. Woojin replied as though the answer were obvious.
"To the headquarters of the dark-side clerics. You promised you'd let me see Him in person."
Him.
The being who encompassed all dark-side clerics. He intended to see that exalted bastard's face.
The priestess spoke carefully.
"That… might be difficult."
"Why?"
"The Outer God who ruled the mountain range has perished. He must have noticed."
He would certainly be wary of Woojin.
His eyes exist everywhere. From where he sits, he sees all, and thus he is omniscient. The holy prophet is always watching over us.
And so, the devout believer who lives faithfully is granted his blessing and invited to the paradise beyond the mountains. That was what the dark-side clerics believed.
Woojin snorted.
"What is he, Santa Claus?"
"…Who is that?"
"An invincible superhuman."
If someone could deliver presents to children all over the world in a single night, it would have to be someone like that.
Anyway—
"I've come this far, so I might as well try. Show me the way."
"…Understood."
Pressed again, the priestess began guiding him without further hesitation.
Walking in silence was dull. As they trudged endlessly toward the land beyond the mountain range, Woojin suddenly attempted to introduce himself.
"What's your name?"
"I don't have one."
Just as the believers—including Unit 308—were called by numbers, the Butterfly Mask had no name either.
Woojin frowned at that.
"You're a bishop. And you still don't have a name?"
"Yes. Not just me—none of us do. Him as well."
The leader of the dark-side clerics was called "Him" because he, too, had no name.
The priestess continued her explanation.
"Sir Jin, do you give names to your socks?"
"No… most people don't."
"It's the same principle. We exist to revere and serve the Outer God who came from beyond the Door. Therefore, a name is an unnecessary concept."
To be more faithful in their role as tools, the dark-side clerics lived their entire lives without names, hiding their appearances behind masks and robes.
Even high-ranking clergy were no exception. Thus, they referred to their leader simply as "Him."
After hearing the explanation, Woojin tilted his head. Frankly, he found it hard to understand.
"No offense… but I can't relate. It's inconvenient and inefficient. You can't even tell each other apart. Someone could infiltrate you and no one would notice."
His own case proved it.
He had slipped into the city with ease—eating, sleeping, living normally. When the mood struck him, he planned to assassinate the bishop, wreck the city, and flee.
The priestess pondered briefly before answering.
"If a tool breaks, you simply replace it. Even if I die, there are countless others who can take my place."
That was why the high priest had assassinated the bishop without hesitation. Though the believers were briefly shocked, they obediently followed the high priest's command.
It was a natural principle to the dark-side clerics.
"…But that's not my way. So come up with a name you can use, at least for now."
"Understood."
With that, the priestess fell silent. It seemed she was troubled by having to create a name for herself for the first time in her life.
Woojin, too, sank into thought.
'What should I name the squirrel?'
He still hadn't decided.
No name felt quite right. He kept postponing the decision day after day, and now here they were. He had no room to criticize "Him."
"…Um."
The priestess suddenly spoke.
"What."
"How does one create a name? I've never done it before, so I'm not used to it."
"It's not easy."
After all, it's a word that represents a being.
"Let's think about it together."
Now there were two subjects to name.
Which meant Woojin's head became twice as complicated. But since he had brought it up, he had no choice but to accept the consequences.
***
As they crossed the mountain range, Woojin and the priestess encountered several dangers.
"A drake is sleeping."
The priestess whispered. Woojin raised his head over a boulder to observe.
A red lizard resembling a carnivorous dinosaur. Larger and more massive than the ones the nagas had ridden. Every time it inhaled and exhaled, orange flames flickered from its nostrils.
It lay sprawled comfortably across the path, fast asleep, blocking the way.
"It would be better to detour."
"Is that necessary?"
"Yes. Drakes are extremely danger—"
Before she could finish, Woojin removed his pack and handed it to her.
"Hold this."
"What are you planning?"
As always, she would see soon enough.
Woojin drew his machete and advanced, his steps light as a cat stalking a bird. The distance quickly closed.
Before long, he stood at the drake's head. It continued snoring peacefully.
Crack—
He drew upon his weighted-strength technique in both hands, increasing their heaviness. Using that weight, he swung the machete with full force.
Slash!
The drake fell into an even deeper sleep.
Blood pooled thickly on the ground. Woojin split open its belly and pulled out the inner core—about the size of two watermelons combined.
The priestess blinked.
"…"
"Was a drake really a magical beast that could be hunted so easily?"
Ever since she saw the Hydra's corpse, she had roughly guessed the man's strength… but witnessing it with her own eyes was a different shock altogether.
A blasphemous thought crossed her mind.
'If this man were to meet Him… what would happen?'
She had not spent much time with Jin, but it wasn't hard to see that this man held beliefs completely opposite to "Him."
Two beings that were symmetrical in every way. Yet they shared one common trait.
'Power beyond humanity.'
If two incompatible forces like that were to clash, which one would remain in the end?
As the priestess pondered—
"Alright. This is our dinner."
Woojin set down the drake's inner core. A massive reptilian core. He had barely finished one, and now there was another.
"Ha…"
"Squeak…"
As if they had agreed beforehand, the priestess and the squirrel both let out a sigh.
READ MORE CHAPTERS HERE : https://beastnovels.com/