Editing Sorcery Hacker:Volume1 Phase4 (section)

===Part 8===

Forturiana’s High Priest was giving his lengthy sermon in the plaza down on the ground.

This was the Temple Moving Ceremony.

To prevent worldly thoughts from intruding on the holy ceremony, the entire area’s silence was preserved by the slipper-sized bell cricket sitting on his shoulder. That might not sound like much, but in a world where the range of a gunshot’s noise was directly linked to the magic’s range, that Bell Ringing prototype made from platinum and gems – meaning it was covered in gemboards – was the core of a barrier far more valuable than the nets used in the trenches.

Thomas Robergin, the old man with his arms and head bound in the mechanical guillotine, thought to himself while listening to the richly-adorned High Priest’s words.

…Had he been wrong?

Had he been wrong to find that small shrine made of old stone? Had he been wrong to touch its door? Had he been wrong to contact that which slumbered within? Had he been wrong to remove everything binding her?

He thought about it.

He thought about it, but he still forced out his voice.

“I wasn’t…”

It did not matter how he looked at it.

It did not matter how many times he came across the exact same situation again.

“I wasn’t wrong.”

Demon Lord Nirvelphany.

There was no special connection between them. Some connection with a distant ancestor was irrelevant. It really had been pure coincidence. It had been random chance. And that was all it had taken to place this great burden on his shoulders.

But even if it had been random chance.

No, ''because'' it had been.

He had known he had to act when he happened across that scene. He believed the “great power” you needed to protect a peaceful and healthy life was to create a society where anyone who encountered that situation would reach out a helping hand without even considering whether they had some special right or qualification.

He did not know what had happened in the distant past.

He did not care what his own position was in relation to that.

He could make that important decision without gathering all sorts of information using a Media Summoner or the mist mana strung out like a spider web. He did not know what that girl had done in the past. Perhaps she really had committed atrocities. But if her punishment and imprisonment would never end, if the humans had entirely forgotten about her, and no one involved still carried their hatred, then was there any reason to keep her imprisoned as a formality? None of it made sense.

If she did still have crimes to pay for, then the gears of atonement had to be properly in place before that could begin. If the gears had fallen into disrepair during the intervening time and the humans covering the surface had entirely forgotten their direct hatred of Nirvelphany, then she had nothing to atone for to the humans who lived in the present era. What could she do about those past crimes other than depart on a journey around the world to bow before the graves of the people she had troubled in the past?

Atonement was not an excuse to assault a complete stranger.

Wasn’t it meant to be a ritual through which the guilty party could get a fresh start on life?

If there was such a thing as benevolent coincidence, then that had to be the blessing it had provided. That would give real meaning to this old man running across the sealed Demon Lord.

So Thomas Robergin would not lose his way.

He would never regret his actions.

“I wasn’t wrong!!”

And during a slight pause in the performative speech, the High Priest approached that old man who was actually slightly younger than him.

He moved his face close to the man bound to the mechanical guillotine and whispered too quietly for anyone else to hear.

“(I have the right to decide what is right and wrong. Because we stole that right from you people who call yourselves Heroes. Once this ceremony is complete, we will have the official protection of the state and can do whatever we want. Not long now until we can kill anyone we like.)”