The Returner

The pope rubbed his eyes and took another look at the Dragon filling up the heavens above.

It was still a Dragon. The worst lifeform there was. An existence no human could possibly cope with. Just a single Wyrm-level Dragon would almost be enough to blow up a single nation to smithereens, so….

Indeed, Dragons were the worst existences, ever.

The thing was, other races unhesitatingly labelled the whole of humanity as the number one worst lifeform in existence, all thanks to a certain someone who went on a rampage throughout the entire continent in the distant past. What a wrongful defamation that was!

Regardless of how one came to be in this world, a Dragon would at least be capable of matching the military might of a single nation. But a human born with an exceptional talent would never be able to get anywhere remotely near the level of a Dragon in his or her lifetime.

It was unfair to be treated like the most feared race just because of a single ‘irregular’ popping up in the entire history of Berafe.

Besides all that, that Dragon was probably….

‘Isn’t that the Dragon Lord?’ (pope)

He looked at that giant golden body. If you were talking about a gold-coloured Ancient-grade Dragon, then there was no need to even comb your memories for an answer.

It had to be the Dragon Lord.

The title didn’t carry the same meaning as a ‘king’ in human lexicon, but one could still call it an existence that best represented the race of Dragons.

The last recorded sighting of the Dragon Lord was the day of the apocalyptic destruction.

The Dragon didn’t show up again since, leading others to suspect that either the creature had perished in the battle or was recovering from the grievous wounds it suffered at the hands of the Bringer of Apocalypse. But today, it had revealed itself in its full glory.

‘Alright, so. What am I supposed to do with a Dragon like that?’ (pope)

Just as the pope spat out another groan, the Dragon’s voice resounded within his head again.

[I shall ask again. Where is Dioreh the First?]

The pope felt like a spoon was shoved in his ear to stir his brain into a milkshake, and barely managed to suppress his meal from gushing out of his mouth. He quickly got to the window of his office and shouted out.

“He’s no longer here, Oh the Lord of all Dragons!” (pope)

The terrifying golden eyes of the Dragon Lord accurately located the pope and locked onto his position.

[If that robe you’re wearing is the pope’s cassock symbolising the Order of Latrel, then you must be its current pope. Is my deduction correct?]

“You’re indeed correct, oh the Lord of Dragons.” (pope)

[If that’s the case, then where is your predecessor, Dioreh the First?]

The pope’s voice contained just a hint of dumbfounded confusion he was feeling at that moment.

“He died a long time ago?” (pope)

[….Eh?]

The pope got to learn that a Dragon could also form a dazed expression as well, and was getting stupefied over this earth-shattering revelation. In the meantime, blinding light escaped from Affeldrichae’s huge body, before she changed back to her human appearance and descended towards the pope’s window.

Tap!

Affeldrichae stepped through the window frame and set foot on the office floor. The pope hurriedly took a couple of steps back and made some room for her.

“Welcome to my abode.” (pope)

He wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to say under the circumstances, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say, unfortunately.

“He’s dead?” (Affeldrichae)

“Yes, that’s correct.” (pope)

Affeldrichae furrowed her brows.

She recalled the visage of Dioreh the First, armed to the teeth with mighty divinity and looking as if he’d defy even the death itself. She just couldn’t imagine such a man kicking the bucket like this. Not at all.

What could have been the cause of his passing, then?

“How did he die?” (Affeldrichae)

“Well, that is….” (pope)

The pope hesitated for a bit, before blurting out the truth as if his innards were burning up from frustration.

“It’s obviously due to old age. What other reason could there be, my lady?” (pope)

“Old age?!” (Affeldrichae)

“Yes, old age. He died of natural causes.” (pope)

“….I know that human lives are short, but to think he died of old age. Just how much time did pass by here?” (Affeldrichae)

“It’s already been half a century since his passing.” (pope)

“Ehh?”

Affeldrichae’s eyes were instantly dyed in the colours of pure confusion.

“That day, uhm…. How much time did it pass since the day of the apocalypse?” (Affeldrichae)

The pope replied, sounding nonplussed.

“One hundred years have passed.” (pope)

“Ah……….”

D*mn that stupid time scale!!

I completely forgot about it!

I forgot that the time scale of that world is different from this one! And it’s a huge difference, too!! (Affeldrichae’s inner monologue)

“You say it’s been a hundred years??” (Affeldrichae)

“Yes.”

Affeldrichae needed only a short time, relatively speaking, to recuperate from her wounds before she was mended enough to chase after Yi Ji-Hyuk, so by reverse-calculating from the time she arrived there….?

“….One month over there is equivalent to roughly thirty years in this place??” (Affeldrichae)

The pope couldn’t understand a single word being muttered out by Affeldrichae.

However, he wasn’t stupid enough to try and understand what a Dragon was muttering to herself about, so all he could do now was to stare at the distant mountain outside the window and patiently wait until she was done with organising her thoughts.

“Fine. That means that Dioreh the First is no longer in this world. What is your name, then?” (Affeldrichae)

“It’s Dioreh the Second.”

“….Can you name yourself anything you feel like nowadays?” (Affeldrichae)

“Even your conduct seems a bit different from the Dragons that I know, Lord….” (Dioreh the Second)

“I’m sure it is. I’ve lived with a human for a long time, after all.” (Affeldrichae)

Dioreh the Second observed Affeldrichae for a bit, before shaking his head.

If a Dragon started behaving similar to humans just because she lived together with one, shouldn’t a human start behaving like his pet dog because he’s been living with one, too???

What would other people call a guy behaving like his pet dog?

A loon.

Yup, that sounded about right.

Dioreh the Second fell into a bit of dilemma, wondering if this Dragon Lord before his eyes had gone utterly insane from the wounds she received back then.

“What’s the hell, why are you looking at me like that?” (Affeldrichae)

“….It’s nothing.” (Dioreh the Second)

That had to be it, because she sounded way too much like a human now.

So, what should I call that? Hmm. Right….

It’s like, I’m listening to a third rate hoodlum…. (Dioreh the Second)

Dioreh the Second spat out a deep and lengthy groan after being inundated with this hopeless feeling of looking at a well-behaved daughter from a respected family gradually losing her ways ever since she began dating the local hoodlum.

“In any case, why do you seek the former pope?” (Dioreh the Second)

“I need someone with powerful divinity.” (Affeldrichae)

“Why do you seek someone like that?” (Dioreh the Second)

“I wanna purify zombies.” (Affeldrichae)

So, like…. what’s wrong with the way she speaks?

Something about it just gets on my nerves…. It sounds wrong, but at the same time, it also doesn’t sound wrong, too….. (Dioreh the Second’s inner monologue. Y’know what, screw it. I’m just gonna call him the pope from now on.)

Indeed, if it was someone else using this tone of speech, it wouldn’t have come across as weird, but when the pope remembered that it was a Dragon talking like this, it simply felt way too bizarre to behold.

More than that, the fact that a female Dragon, and the Dragon Lord to boot, was speaking like this, it was just a bit….

Nope, make that really weird.

“Purifying zombies, you say…. But, I’m sure that you don’t need someone of Dioreh the First’s calibre. Surely, just a single suitable priest should be more than enough for the job at hand.” (pope)

Sure, you’re a Dragon, alright.

But, this is the Order of Latrel.

You want to take the leader of an organisation with tens of millions of believers to do…..

What was that? Purifying zombies? (pope’s inner monologue)

There was a little doubt now that his Dragon was off her rockers.

The pope heard that the way Dragons operated was on another realm altogether in terms of scale, so they would sometimes cause an incident that exceeded most people’s common sense. This had to be one such instance, then.

She could have resorted to using a mass-scale destruction magic to blow the zombies away to bits, or roast them all away with Hellfire or something.

“….There are a million zombies.” (Affeldrichae)

“Oh. Well then, that makes sense.” (pope)

Yup, a pope should definitely go!

One shouldn’t tarry about like things like that!

Yup, he need to go, even if he has to get out of his grave first! (pope’s inner monologue)

In an instant, his evaluation of Affeldrichae did a 180.

If there were a million zombies, then forget about a single pope, even the pope’s grandpa should participate. Who cares about one’s reputation when the whole continent was about to perish?

“….However, is it really a million strong?” (pope)

“Yup.” (Affeldrichae)

“Where are they, then?” (pope)

“In the other dimension.” (Affeldrichae)

“………….”

Dioreh the Second took off his zucchetto and roughly scratched his white hair.

“How many can travel there?” (pope)

“Just one.” (Affeldrichae)

Mm, so that’s how it was.

Alright, let me put this thing in its correct order…. She’s saying that, there are a million zombies making a mess of things in another dimension that has no relation to us, and only ONE, I repeat, ony ONE freaking person must cross over there and fix the situation.

I’m kinda embarrassed to repeat myself like this, but….

This Dragon is mad.

She’s definitely not right in her head. (pope’s inner monologue)

“Come on now! No one can do what you say! Just who is capable enough to purify a million zombies all alone?!” (pope)

“Dioreh the First might have been able to do it, that’s why I came to fetch him…..” (Affeldrichae)

“That’s only because he was the greatest, most powerful cleric in the history of the Order! He was someone who could blow away a mountain with the ‘Divine Emperor Cannon’!” (pope)

“Oh. Really?” (Affeldrichae)

….Well, you all look similar, that’s why. (Affeldrichae’s inner monologue)

“You’re also a pope like him, so can’t you do at least that much?” (Affeldrichae)

“I’m the administrative type of pope, you know!! Back then, we had no choice but to elect a combat-type pope because of the chaotic state of the world! But, I’m an administrative type of pope, who has to work hard and make enough money to rebuild the order!”

“Oh……”

Affeldrichae swept her gaze all over Dioreh the Second and tilted her heard.

“What then? Does that mean you’re useless?” (Affeldrichae)

“…………….”

From tomorrow onwards, Imma quietly spread a rumour.

A rumour of the Dragon Lord going mad.

This might very well be the worst crisis in Berafe’s history after that day of apocalypse. (pope’s inner monologue)

“So….” (Affeldrichae)

“Yup.” (pope)

“Who possesses greater divine powers than you here?” (Affeldrichae)

“….This is just my estimation, but….” (pope)

“M-mm?”

“It’s more than likely that I’m the best among in the Order at the moment. I’m not boasting, of course. It’s just plain fact.” (pope)

When Affeldrichae cocked an eyebrow and leered at him, Dioreh the Second averted his gaze.

“Didn’t you just say that you were an administrative type?” (Affeldrichae)

“Let’s amend that to ‘jack of all trades’, instead.” (pope)

“And, you also said you were weak, didn’t you?” (Affeldrichae)

“Ah, that. Yes, when compared to the former pope, I am hopelessly, utterly weak. That is true.” (pope)

“But you still claim to be the strongest?” (Affeldrichae)

“….Regrettably so.” (pope)

Affeldrichae spat out a long sigh.

Well, something like this could happen, sure.

Didn’t matter which organisation it was, the harsh reality of it was that talented individuals would only flock to you when you were going through an age of great prosperity. When you were ruined, you wouldn’t even be able to spot ‘ta’ of talented people in the distance.

It was an obvious thing, really. More people would flock during the period of prosperity, so there would be more exceptional individuals among them. The prosperous organisation would nurture these folks, so they might become greatest talented beings of their era.

However, the Order of Latrel had to fight Yi Ji-Hyuk in the past and was pushed to the brink of complete destruction. Hence, it had no more people and no money left. So, how would they even dream about nurturing powerful clerics?

One’s plucky attitude could only get you so far, after all.

Heck, one should actually evaluate Dioreh the Second’s set of abilities as truly excellent for reviving the once-derelict Order to this level already.

But, the real problem was….!

‘None of that matters right now.’ (Affeldrichae)

Not to her, and also not to him, as well.

“It’ll be so much better for you to quickly come up with a solution.” (Affeldrichae)

“How will I come up with one, when there isn’t any?” (pope)

“No, listen to me. This is just my prediction, but you will definitely think of a solution very soon.” (Affeldrichae)

“I don’t quite understand you….?” (pope)

A smile formed on Affeldrichae’s face.

“Take a guess who ordered me to bring over a cleric capable of solving the zombie crisis over on the other dimension.”

“I don’t know.” (pope)

“It’s the Bringer of Apocalypse.” (Affeldrichae)

“Ah, sure, so it was the Bringer of….. Eh? What did you just say? Apocalypse? THE Bringer of Apocalypse?!” (pope)

Why did his name jump out of her mouth now?

I mean, that guy isn’t even the bogeyman moms use to calm their crying children, either!

No, hang on. Didn’t I hear somewhere that common folks actually do use his name?

Something like, ‘If you keep crying, Yi Ji-Hyuk’s gonna come and get you’? (pope’s inner monologue)

“T-the Bringer of Apocalypse is still alive?” (pope)

“Yup.” (Affeldrichae)

“But, it’s been over one hundred years?!” (pope)

“He hasn’t changed at all, though?” (Affeldrichae)

Did he drink from the fountain of youth or something?!

No, hold up! He lived for over one thousand years, so believing that he’s dead after only a hundred years is THE strange thing to do, isn’t it? (pope’s inner monologue)

That man’s military feats were still being told like some mythical legendary tale to this day.

The problem was, perhaps regrettably, there weren’t that many survivors from that day still alive in the current age, and his story was being treated like a real folklore now.

That’s why this pope here mistakenly thought that it all happened in the distant, ancient past, but…. But, when he thought about it some more, that man was around only one hundred years ago.

And the records said he was living in Berafe for over 1200 years before those hundred, too. Indeed, him dying would be an even more weirder occurrence, alright.

“So, you should hurry up.” (Affeldrichae)

“Pardon?” (pope)

“If you hesitate and can’t get things done, wouldn’t he cross over here personally? What with his personality being like that?” (Affeldrichae)

“Ahhh. So, like…. Mmm…. Yes, indeed.” (pope)

Dioreh the Second only needed a moment to quickly understand his current situation. He turned around and took a deep, deep breath. And then, yelled out loudly as if he was trying to cough out his heart or some such.

“Summon all the other poooooooooopes!!” (pope)

Dioreh the Second’s heaven-shaking roar reverberated with the Latrel castle.

And so, a new conference of all the religious orders in Berafe took place one hundred years after the invasion of the Bringer of Apocalypse.