Failed Possession Chapter-81

## Ch – 81.

—

“There are quite a few empty seats.”

The one who strolled in leisurely through pitch-black darkness spoke as he looked around the gray round table.

The table was large enough to seat dozens comfortably.
And yet there were only ten chairs placed around it.

Compared to the table’s size, the number of chairs was few, and so the gaps between them were wide. But the *distance* between the owners of those chairs was far greater than the visible spacing.

That was the nature of the Saints.

Some had been born and raised in this world.
Some were possessors.

Though they belonged to the same Cult, worshiped the same god, and shared the purpose of sowing chaos across the world, they were not close.

“If attendance had been mandatory, at least half the seats would be filled, Master-Friend.”

The one leaning back in his chair with legs stretched out sneered.

Every name used here was a baptismal name personally bestowed by the Pope. Even if one could roughly guess another’s identity, speaking a true name was taboo. Likewise, their appearances were obscured, and even their voices differed from reality.

“Today is only a regular meeting. If it were truly mandatory, the Pope himself would have convened it.”

Haewol (Sea Moon), seated at a distant chair, spoke calmly.

“With how chaotic the current situation is, I honestly expected the Pope to call a meeting. It seems things are not quite that severe.”

“He might be personally intervening in the Bernok conflict.”

Agwi (Hungry Ghost), his feet propped up on a chair, cackled.

“I hear it’s a living hell over there. People dying in droves every day.”

“You sound rather pleased.”

Gwimyeon (Ghost Mask), seated far away, spoke coolly.

Creeeak—

Agwi dragged his chair upright with a sharp noise and glared at Gwimyeon. From behind the drifting mist concealing his face, only his eyes glowed ominously.

“What do you mean by that?”

“You really need to ask?”

A trace of laughter slipped through the modulated voice.

“Panteleon. Agwi, you invested quite some effort there, didn’t you? How many years did you watch over it?”

“…”

“The more lawless a place is, the harder it is to devour. Lawless ones keep each other in check. And the city’s rulers—though they appeared indifferent—kept constant watch over the outer districts.”

Crunch.

Agwi did not respond, merely stared with naked killing intent. Within the mist swirling around Gwimyeon’s face, his eyes curved faintly.

“You tried to avoid drawing attention while committing minimal manpower, but hah, the result was pitiful. Didn’t we warn you from the start? A major city ruled by pride is difficult to dominate.”

“Shut up.”

Agwi ground out the words, suppressing the urge to rise from his seat.

“What happened in Evil Hamlet is your fault, Gwimyeon. You failed to do your job properly.”

“My fault?”

“Fomajeon’s surroundings were your territory. What were you doing that you didn’t even notice the young cult leader of the Demonic Cult leaving Demon-Subjugation Hall?”

“Until this incident, there was almost no information on the young cult leader. No matter how diligent I was, how could I identify someone whose face I didn’t even know?”

Gwimyeon shrugged.

“And it’s not as if we could infiltrate followers into Demon-Subjugation Hall where capture meant certain death. Nor could we attack everyone coming and going.”

“Because you cowered in fear, the young cult leader rampaged!”

“Why blame me? You’re the one who tried biting off more than you could chew.”

“That’s enough.”

Sawu, who had been sitting with arms crossed, finally spoke.

Haewol, who had been listening to the argument with visible amusement, clicked her tongue in disappointment.

“What use is arguing over blame for something already past? Still, I believe Agwi’s attempt was admirable.”

“Though the result was failure.”

Gwimyeon added with another jab. Agwi’s shoulders trembled.

“Hm. It seems no one else is coming.”

Sawu looked around into the surrounding darkness.

Only four had attended this regular meeting. The Pope and the other Saints were absent.

“I thought we would begin bringing in candidates to fill the empty seats.”

“Do we even know how many empty seats there are?”

“Who knows? Even now, seats may be becoming vacant in real time.”

“Oh my, you’re speaking of Bernok, aren’t you?”

Haewol asked, eyes gleaming.

“I’ve heard Bernok is a living hell as well.”

Tu-seong, Apex Lucionel, Hyeonya, the Radiant Dharma King, Chicheon, Sword Ghost, Butcher Mad Blade, Radiant Zenith, Full-Moon Play.

Nine famous powerhouses were already directly involved in the Bernok conflict. Beyond them were several others of comparable Rank, though less renowned.

Perhaps one of those famed warriors was a Saint of the Cult.

“No matter how violent it is, I doubt our brothers and sisters will fall so easily.”

Haewol laughed lightly.

“Even the current vacancies haven’t all been filled. I would prefer not to see more open up. It seems there are few suitable candidates to elevate as Saints.”

“Hmph. I only need one seat vacant.”

Agwi finally spoke again, still glaring at Gwimyeon.

“A seat for Him. That seat must never be filled.”

“Has He crossed over yet?”

Haewol tilted her head.

“Perhaps He already has, but simply hasn’t pledged himself to the Cult.”

“That’s impossible.”

Agwi declared flatly.

“If He has crossed into this world, He would unquestionably have joined the Cult.”

“And if He is not an Apostle?”

“Do you truly think that possible? No one has guided more possessors than He has. If He is not an Apostle, then who is?”

“Hm. I don’t know much about this ‘He’ you speak of… but could He already be among us?”

Haewol giggled at the suggestion.

“If He is presumed to be an Apostle, isn’t there a chance He is the Pope? Or perhaps Yulho? What about you, Sawu?”

Suddenly singled out, Sawu burst into laughter. He raised a hand and stroked his chin beyond the mist, as if tugging at an invisible beard.

“Me, an Apostle? The thought alone is flattering. But no, I am not.”

“He has not yet crossed into this world.”

Agwi spoke again.

Even Gwimyeon, who had mocked Agwi endlessly, did not sneer regarding “Him.” Instead, he nodded in agreement.

“I think so as well. He… is not someone who would hide.”

“Why?”

“Because He… would enjoy being worshiped.”

This time Agwi answered.

Haewol looked back and forth between Agwi and Gwimyeon, seated far apart, and giggled.

“How amusing. You two bicker like sworn enemies every meeting, yet you always agree about Him. Though possessors do seem particularly fixated on Him.”

“You speak as if you aren’t one yourself.”

At Gwimyeon’s jab, Haewol covered her mouth beyond the mist and laughed.

“Let’s stop the obvious probing. I’ve endured that suspicion for ten years already.”

“Now, now. Let’s not start another quarrel. Attendance is low—wouldn’t it be better if the atmosphere remained pleasant?”

Sawu, seated at the center, once again steered the mood.

“First, Gwimyeon—this topic is not meant to mock you. It is one that must be addressed in this meeting. Please understand.”

“This must be about the Demonic Cult.”

Unlike with Agwi, Gwimyeon’s tone was subdued.

Sawu was an elder Saint trusted by the Pope—someone not to be treated lightly. And regardless, discussion of the Demonic Cult was grave.

“What do you all think of the Demonic Cult’s declaration of war?”

“Isn’t that too heavy a subject for a meeting without the Pope?”

“Heh, true. But individual opinions still matter.”

“If we intend full-scale war with the Demonic Cult, all Saints would need to assemble.”

Gwimyeon cleared his throat.

“It doesn’t seem the Pope will issue a summons for the Saints. As always, perhaps we should let each Saint act as they please.”

“Even if they’ve declared war, it won’t be easy for them to find us. We have many enemies—so do they.”

“A full-scale war would certainly sow great chaos—but both sides would have to stake their lives. And then who benefits? Other Churches. Cartels. The Orthodox Heaven Alliance. If we clash head-on, there would be no shortage of those laughing.”

For now, the shared consensus was clear: none wished for full-scale war with the Demonic Cult.

And it was a reasonable stance.

After all, in a regular meeting without even the Pope present, proposing something radical was impossible.

“Hm, it seems we are all in agreement regarding the Demonic Cult. That is reassuring.”

Sawu smiled and nodded.

“Gwimyeon, I know well the efforts you have made, but from here on, keep a closer watch on the Demonic Cult. Especially large movements of manpower or armed forces departing from Demon-Subjugation Hall.”

“Recently, most large forces leaving the Demonic Cult have been heading toward Seonnyeong.”

“Ah, Seonnyeong. That is where the newly completed training grounds are located, is it not?”

“Not only the promising talents of the Demonic Cult’s main line, but also children purchased—or abducted—from Demon-Subjugation Hall and other regions are being sent there in large numbers. The age range is broad. From early teens to those past their coming-of-age.”

“The district near Seonnyeong is overseen by Hwajo (Flower Bird), correct? It is unfortunate he is not present.”

Sawu let out a quiet sigh before continuing.

“Next. Has there been any progress regarding the Church of Order?”

“Isn’t Yulho in charge of tracking them?”

“Heh, that is true. But perhaps some of the brothers gathered here have come across even the smallest clue?”

“It has already been twenty years since the Church of Order withdrew into their sanctuary and ceased appearing in the world.”

“Even the War Church’s hounds, with their keen noses, have failed to track them down for decades.”

Agwi tilted his chair back with a scoff.

“Well, perhaps they weren’t truly trying that hard. After all, until twenty years ago, all Churches except ours were together within the Union. Perhaps they are all in the same boat.”

“Or perhaps they fear Tu-seong and the Calamity Star. When the Union decided to expel the Church of Order twenty years ago, didn’t the Calamity Star go berserk and nearly beat Tu-seong to death?”

“The Calamity Star hasn’t appeared in the world for the past few years either.”

Haewol’s eyes gleamed.

“That concerns me greatly. Up until five years ago, she would appear from time to time. Especially if some influential figure publicly slandered the Church of Order—she would appear like a ghost and unleash violence in the name of divine punishment. But lately, nothing.”

“Hopefully she suffered qi deviation and died.”

Gwimyeon muttered openly, and Agwi nodded.

Their curses toward the Calamity Star were not born of vigilance alone—fear was mixed in as well. And not just for Agwi and Gwimyeon. Most Saints who were possessors felt the same.

—One day, the Calamity Star will come to punish you.

All possessors who had risen to the rank of Saint had killed the Priest of Order assigned to them. That was twenty years ago, before the Church of Order retreated into its sanctuary. Not every possessor who killed their assigned priest became a Saint—but every Saint who acknowledged being a possessor had done so.

“Then next. How are things in your respective districts?”

“Hahaha.”

The moment Sawu asked, Gwimyeon burst into laughter. He openly glanced at Agwi and sneered.

“I am quite curious myself. Is there not someone here who spent years cultivating a district, only to ruin it?”

Crunch.

The mist around Agwi’s face trembled violently.

“I heard you had been gathering divine power for years in preparation to terrorize Panteleon. Hah, what will you do now?”

“You bastard.”

Agwi could no longer endure it and sprang to his feet.

“I’m already preparing the next move. In a few days—boom—I’ll set it off. So shut your mouth.”

“Oh? Really? Where and how do you plan to detonate it? The bishop of Evil Hamlet is dead, and most of the followers were hunted down, from what I hear.”

“Agwi, I do not mean to mock you—but perhaps it would be better not to stir up trouble needlessly?”

Even Haewol, who had been watching from a measured distance, stepped closer and spoke bluntly this time.

“Hasn’t the outer district of Panteleon already been purified? I know you’ve been amassing divine power for years, but even if you detonate it in a purified district, overthrowing Panteleon would be impossible.”

“Hmph. Who said I was targeting Panteleon?”

Gwimyeon’s eyes flared.

“As it happens, there is a rather large event occurring near me.”

“Don’t tell me…”

Haewol’s eyes widened within the mist.

“You mean to carry out a terrorist attack at the Alderaan Magic Exposition? Agwi, I think you’re not thinking clearly.”

“Hahaha!”

Gwimyeon doubled over laughing.

“Your tail must really be on fire. Are you planning something reckless just to cover your failure?”

“Hmph. I’m not toppling a city—just sweeping away a mere exposition hall. Is that truly reckless?”

“Agwi, what are you saying? That exposition is held in the center of the city!”

Haewol could no longer contain her frustration. The attack itself was one matter—the aftermath was another. Even for a Saint, launching an attack in the heart of Alderaan and escaping unscathed would not be easy.

“Alderaan has the Cartel’s Pride! You’re not underestimating the Maybeld family just because they aren’t a martial house, are you? Even their private soldiers and retainers could wipe out most major sects! And Alderaan houses the Havert Mage Tower and the Temple of the Earth Church!”

“I will turn the exposition hall into a false sanctuary.”

Agwi did not waver.

“I have secured sufficient divine power. If I anchor it myself, I can construct a false sanctuary over the exposition grounds. The Earth Church? Foolishness! The Archbishop is at the Union’s bishops’ council. Only bishop-level clergy remain at the temple! Even if Maybeld, Havert, and the Earth Church’s bishops are present, breaching a fully established false sanctuary from the outside would be impossible!”

“And what of the inside? There will be thousands of mages at the exposition!”

It would not be difficult for a Saint like Agwi to massacre those present. Still, Haewol raised the point. In her judgment, committing such an act in Alderaan’s center was madness.

“Hmph. So what? Why would I fear those whelps? Within a false sanctuary, mana is suppressed. Unless one is at least Rank 7—a Mage Tower Lord-level existence—their control over mana will be severely weakened. Most mages won’t even be able to cast spells!”

“Oh? So this isn’t purely an emotional outburst?”

Clap, clap. Gwimyeon applauded mockingly.

“Still…! There may be Rank 7 mages present! And martial artists wouldn’t be as affected by mana suppression—”

“Enough.”

Sawu intervened.

“A splendid plan.”

Haewol had expected Sawu to restrain Agwi. Instead, he sounded genuinely impressed.

“I have heard no rumors of Mage Tower Lords attending the Alderaan Exposition. Under normal circumstances, Apex Lucionel would have been invited—but Apex Lucionel is currently involved in the Bernok conflict. Other major figures will attend only on the final day. If that day is avoided, the probability of Agwi’s success is very high. And while it is true that martial artists are less hindered by mana suppression—why would Agwi fear martial artists?”

“Exactly!”

Encouraged, Agwi’s voice rose.

After the failure at Panteleon, his standing among the Saints had inevitably shrunk. The district had been purified; many followers lost. That alone would not have been disastrous—but the problem was that a trail had been left.

The Demonic Cult’s young leader did not visit Panteleon by coincidence. The Heavenly Demon had chosen that district from the beginning for a declaration of war—and sent the young leader there deliberately.

The district’s bishop, the Withered Old Crone, had been a defector from the Rudella Mage Tower. That was likely how the trail was exposed. Regardless, it had been Agwi who dispatched her. The fleeing followers being tracked down meant her hidden lair had been uncovered as well. The wretched old woman had failed in her management—but she was already dead.

So the responsibility fell on Agwi.

No matter how unjust it felt, Yulho would not listen. Punishment would come. His status as a Saint would likely remain—but divine favor would surely be diminished.

Saints were not unconditional allies. They circled like predators, waiting for weakness. Agwi in particular was wary of Gwimyeon.

“I need no preparation! I can go personally and detonate it. I could do it as early as tomorrow!”

“Heh, indeed. You have been accumulating divine power for Panteleon’s downfall for years. If not an entire city, then certainly an exposition hall can be comfortably shaped into a false sanctuary.”

Sawu stroked his invisible beard and smiled.

“And using a false sanctuary rather than a simple massacre is elegant. It would leave a deeper scar upon Alderaan. And if your authority is layered upon it, you could harvest the souls of thousands trapped inside—turn them into ‘Trees.’ With that many souls consumed, perhaps even a Wall could be broken. Perhaps congratulations are in cult.”

“Hmph… It’s not as if merely fattening your soul is enough to break a Wall.”

Gwimyeon muttered irritably, clearly not expecting Sawu’s support.

“True, true. Caution is still required. A Rank 7 mage would be a variable. So Agwi, before establishing the false sanctuary, identify the mages present.”

“Of course.”

“And from what I know, the young ones who ruined your affair are currently in Alderaan.”

Agwi’s body twitched.

“The Sword Dragon and Thunder Cloud… no, the Cloud Dragon and Dark Flower. The Sword Dragon aside, Thunder Cloud and Dark Flower appear to be touring the exposition. If you draw them into the false sanctuary, you may exact punishment and restore your honor.”

Agwi did not answer. He simply stared at Sawu.

Sawu continued in a relaxed tone.

“Even if they are not caught within the exposition’s false sanctuary—they are merely Rank 5 youths. They can be killed anywhere, can they not?”

Agwi’s shoulders shook as he laughed.

“Those brats are here?”

His eyes burned with murderous light.