The Life of a Wise Cult Leader - Chapter 152

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 152

 

“Waaaaaaah!”

 

The well-fed men, their strength restored, shouted in response to my speech.

 

With hundreds gathered in the clearing roaring at the top of their lungs, the very air seemed to tremble.

 

I continued my speech.

 

“Can you readily sheathe your swords against the Demon Race who pointed their blades at you, who spilled your comrades’ blood!”

 

“We’re sick of war now!”

 

“Whatever it is, we just want it to stop!”

 

That’s right. The Empire’s war has now been a prolonged conflict lasting decades.

 

Everyone wants to be liberated from this battlefield that has lost its purpose and only takes the lives of the innocent.

 

Then someone in the crowd let out a desperate, torn voice that rang out clearly.

 

“No! Then what about Haumen and Edwin who died last time? What meaning do my friends’ deaths have? Those bastards are demons! That Saint has also conspired with demons! There’s no other way he could use such power!”

 

“But look at that power! That was creating life. There’s no explanation unless he received it from our great Lumensia!”

 

However, not everyone wished to be freed from this hell.

 

On the battlefield, lives are crushed all too easily, and the bombardments of war steal away a person’s entire life.

 

Without even time to place memorial flowers, their lives are stacked like sacks of dried potatoes or turnips and piled in pits.

 

All that remained to show they had fought here were heavily rusted badges and dog tags.

 

Those on the battlefield couldn’t endure this meaningless war.

 

So they began to assign and search for meaning.

 

Because one cannot live life without being obsessed with something.

 

“…I’ve heard enough. I can’t stand it anymore. Now you want to join hands with them? Have you all gone mad? Are your bellies full, so you only see those who fed you? I’ll report all of you to the Central Church as heretics! You disgusting heretics! The Imperial Army’s mission is to exterminate the Demon Race! You traitors who defy Lumensia’s will! You’ll all be executed!”

 

Probably not a battalion commander but someone of captain rank spoke threateningly, making all the soldiers flinch and cower.

 

“You said Brothers Haumen and Edwin?”

 

This wasn’t beyond my understanding. Rather, I’m the strange one.

 

I’m a madman who came to the front lines in the middle of war, showed off some performance, and urged for a ceasefire.

 

It would be stranger if they said “Yes! We’ll do that!” Especially since the Empire defines the Demon Race as demons and even hunts them – they’re extreme demon-race supremacists.

 

“What do you think… they truly wanted as they died?”

 

“Victory! Demon Race extermination! Glory for the Empire and liquor!”

 

He wailed and shouted loudly.

 

I spoke gently without wavering. The good thing about the veil is that I don’t have to manage my expressions as much at times like this.

 

“My friend died, so you should die too and come to my side… Did they say that? Or perhaps, though I die here, you at least should live and return home… Did they say that instead?”

 

I stepped down from the platform. Then like Moses’ miracle, the crowd parted and guided me to the two who had shouted earlier.

 

I walked slowly and spread both arms.

 

“Your anger is justified. It must be grief for losing comrades you considered family, festering and bursting. Ah… You poor soul tormented by such tempestuous rage. So pitiful that I sympathize with you. It’s heartbreaking and lamentable that I cannot tend to the wounds this hellish war has created, only able to heal external injuries while ignoring inner wounds.”

 

The (probably) Vice Captain shouted angrily.

 

“You deceiver! You have some nerve impersonating God! Heretic! Now I see you’re not even a heretic – you’re a cult leader! Don’t be fooled by him, everyone!”

 

Wow, this is the first time I’ve been called a cult leader while actually being one.

 

Has there ever been someone who saw through my identity so clearly? But unfortunately, now wasn’t the timing to acknowledge that correct answer.

 

“A cult leader…”

 

I murmured softly.

 

“Yes. I suppose I might appear as a false one in your eyes. Since I reject God’s will of ‘judgment’ and dare suggest giving bread to enemies.”

 

I grasped the edge of my chin under the veil and tilted my head.

 

Since I was a full head taller than these malnourished men, I could easily see them trembling beneath my gaze.

 

“But I don’t fail to understand Brother’s feelings. How agonizing it must have been on such brutal battlefields that seem to destroy humanity… You’ve worked so hard all this time.”

 

I embraced him tightly. I could feel the man’s sturdy frame stiffening in my arms. After holding him tight for several seconds, I released him.

 

“But Brother, would the honor of the dead truly fade if we extend our hands to those people?”

 

I looked around once.

 

“Would it soil the Empire’s eternal glory?”

 

Then I slightly lifted my veil.

 

“No! If the Empire truly wanted to gain glory from this war, it couldn’t have treated you like this! It shouldn’t have made you eat dried hardtack and turnips, and shouldn’t have clothed you in garments that can’t even keep out the cold! No matter how much it’s war, this is just to plunge you into suffering. Brothers and Sisters, I hope you open your eyes.”

 

I spoke with a stern expression devoid of humor. Then I showed a gentle smile with a slightly relaxed face.

 

“The true ‘glory’ the dead wanted… is for you to live and return home, eat warm stew for their share too, and tell their heroic tales to their families. That is the only ‘victory’ the dead wish for the living.”

 

“Ugh, sob…”

 

The soldiers wailed. Even those who had loudly opposed were frowning with confused and complex expressions.

 

“Come here. My, how hard it must have been all this time. I came too late. I’m sorry.”

 

I comforted the grown men crying like children.

 

“Everyone wishes for a world without suffering. Will you join me?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“…Let me ask just one thing.”

 

The one who appeared to be the Vice Captain walked toward me. He was the one who had said he’d report everyone to the Central Church and expose them as heretics. I gave a generous smile and nodded.

 

“Please do.”

 

“I understand everything you’re saying. But, but… would the dead really want that? It seems like I’m repenting before you now, but I sent soldiers to their deaths through wrong judgments.”

 

“I see… It must have been very painful.”

 

“No. The ones suffering are those who already died rushing out on my orders. I should die on this battlefield. So don’t try to stop me. I’ll kill at least one Demon Race member before I die. That’s my atonement.”

 

“…Was that really the best choice?”

 

The Vice Captain’s eyes were already dead.

 

He needed neither survival nor salvation. He only wanted to escape his guilt through a meaningful death on this battlefield.

 

‘This kind of guy won’t be helped by comfort.’

 

I smiled gently and shook my head.

 

“Atoning through death? That’s a cowardly excuse.”

 

“What did you say…?”

 

The Vice Captain’s eyes became bloodshot. But I didn’t back down and firmly grasped his shoulders. I abandoned my languid smile and hardened my expression.

 

“Dying is easy. Just charge into battle, stab one Demon Race member and die together. That’s not atonement, it’s ‘escape.’ Escape from the guilt you should bear by surviving.”

 

“Escape! I am…!”

 

“Do you think those who died from your wrong judgment would welcome you if you followed them? Not at all. They’d grab you by the collar and ask, ‘Captain, what about our families? Did you come here to take the easy way out?'”

 

I poked his chest with my finger.

 

“If you truly want to atone, don’t die. Live, and endure this hell for the sake of the subordinates you sent to their deaths. And with your own hands, save every single remaining subordinate and send them home.”

 

I spoke commandingly with a deliberately stern voice.

 

“That is the real responsibility a commander must bear. Don’t try to take the easy way out through death. Live, and remember painfully while taking responsibility.”

 

The Vice Captain seemed choked up, his nostrils flaring. Then he covered his face with both hands and bowed his head deeply. I calmly removed my robe, draped it over him, and patted his back.

 

“Now, those people over there must be hungry enough by now. Shall we prepare to go?”

 

After that, everything proceeded swiftly.

 

We gathered the remaining food supplies and collected the corpses of slain monsters for Cardil to purify while breaking out in cold sweat.

 

Since the Demon Race would be startled if we suddenly went to the Demon Realm, Celestia, who volunteered as a ~dove of peace~, went ahead. Why Celestia? Because she was the only viable option among us.

 

1. Cardil

 

Central Church Bishop. Demon Realm subjugation war soldier. Eliminated.

 

2. Yelena

 

Central Church member and currently active as an Inquisitor. Claims to have taken at least 20 Demon Race heads. Eliminated.

 

3. Erendor

 

…Forget it. If we sent him, war would start immediately.

 

4. Tuba

 

Absolutely not.

 

5. Kalebrin

 

Same problem. She has trouble talking to people in the first place.

 

So through process of elimination, Celestia went.

 

She appeared to be a frail noble lady, so it should be fine.

 

As a member of the neutral Magic Tower, there wouldn’t be much backlash, and she had the power to protect herself, so if worst came to worst, she could teleport back here.

 

An hour later, Celestia returned with her usual light steps as if nothing had happened and gave a brief report.

 

“They like the food. They like the ceasefire.”

 

She came back so quickly I thought something had gone wrong, but it was settled this fast?

 

I thought there would be pushback from the Demon Realm too, considering even the Central Church side is showing resistance.

 

“The Demon King has already given his word, they say?”

 

“The Demon King…?”

 

I recalled the time I had communicated with the Demon King due to a system error when I used ‘Prophecy’ in the past.

 

‘The Demon King knows me well for some reason. So this must be something he deliberately gave his word on because it moved within his predictable range.’

 

If that’s the case, the Demon King would want a ceasefire. Even if just for a brief moment. To fight God, he’d need to preserve his full strength beforehand.

 

“What else?”

 

“The demon language doesn’t translate well, so I’m not sure. At least that’s what I got from the fragments.”

 

Right, the language used by the Demon Race is different from the language used by the Empire. I had forgotten since I communicate with Players without language barriers.

 

“I see. Then I’ll say we’re bringing an advance team with food supplies. We’ll spread everything out so there are no bombs or items that could be used for terrorism. Please tell them that if they’re worried, armed personnel can come out to inspect.”

 

Celestia hurried off again to serve as a messenger bird. Then, along with Celestia, seven gray-skinned demons with massive horns and heterochromia came out.

 

“Hello.”

 

They looked at me and greeted with a curt bow. Then they spoke briefly.

 

“We want to see the food supplies.”

 

“Please look freely.”

 

They walked through the food supplies with disciplined steps while the Imperials watched with ambiguous expressions.

 

“Hmm. We can take this?”

 

“Of course. Our Brothers and Sisters say they’ll help carry it. Would that be alright?”

 

“The Demon King’s command. He told us to follow the Saint’s words… Gladly. But if you try any foolish tricks, you won’t see a pleasant sight.”

 

Whether the system translates even demon language, only Celestia and I understood here while the rest just had question marks.

 

I directed them to carry the boxes near the Demon Realm. I chose not to use cargo wagons since they’d be dangerous crossing the front lines with all the uneven ground.

 

They shared food, had a drink, smoked cigarettes, and became friendly despite not speaking the same language.

 

Meanwhile, I approached someone who seemed to be the captain and asked more details about the Demon King.

 

The stern-faced, soldier-like figure answered my questions matter-of-factly.

 

“He said anything the Saint proposes would be good for us, so accept whatever it is. And he also said to bring you to him. Nothing else besides that.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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