B-ronken-R-ing 159...

***

The thunderous crash of iron striking marble rang around the gigantic hall. No mere mortal, however resolute, could commit such a blasphemy, but Cárcel's formidable strength made it all possible.

Emiliano begged, "Y-Your Lordship, please! There is no coming back from this. Please think of Her Ladyship-"

"That is precisely what I am doing."

It was as if Cárcel's body contained the force of a hundred raging men. Soon enough, a crack appeared in one of the apostle's ankles, rapidly spreading. Cárcel assessed the damage he had done to the statue with a chilling calm, which was a stark contrast to the absurdity of his own actions.

Completely dazed, Emiliano stared at him. "No man in his right mind would..."

"Fear not. I will ensure to let them know that you, being of sound mind, did not condone my deeds," Cárcel responded coldly, then delivered a mighty kick to the upper part of the statue. The apostle's body inched away from the ankle, until it slowly tipped over to the left.

"Good heavens! What have you-" Emiliano's protest was cut short as Cárcel yanked him away from the statue.

The statue fell to the ground with an ear-splitting roar. Pieces of marble flew everywhere, reaching the exact spot where Emiliano had been standing a few seconds ago.

Emiliano stared at the destruction only a few steps away from his feet, his hand trembling as he rubbed his forehead. "J-just what have you done?"

"I couldn't remember how Inés had died in Mendoza," Cárcel responded calmly. "And I couldn't remember what happened in Sevilla after your death. That's why I did it." Blood trickled from his head wound, but it was like he did not even notice, just like he hadn't noticed when his eyes began to shed tears.

Emiliano suppressed a heavy sigh. "Your Lordship, you can only seek a divine answer through prayer."

"I have prayed every single damned morning. I used to be as faithful as a dog. But all I received in return was your damned necklace and a future as a traitor."

Emiliano was struck speechless by Cárcel's profane language, for he had never imagined he would hear such words in a sacred place of worship.

To make matters even worse, Cárcel placed a foot on the shoulder of the fallen statue and shoved it away like a savage kicking a body that he had just slaughtered.

Frantically, Emiliano reached out to grab his shoulders. "P-please! No more! Do not let yourself fall into even greater sin-"

"Unhand me at once. Do you truly believe that you have the strength to stop me?"

"I admit that I do not know the full extent of the power and influence of House Escalante, but there is not a single soul who can escape punishment for desecrating a holy statue."

"Money can remedy most situations, and I will provide them with a culprit and a plausible justification."

"There is no justifiable excuse for destroying the apostle's statue. And it is not only the punishment of the Bilbaoan Order you should fear. Our Lord-"

"I have been humble enough to punish myself already." Cárcel pointed a careless finger at his bloodied face, then glanced back at the fallen statue.

"W-what? That is not how punishment works! Also, please do not take your anger out on our apostle-"

"That is not my intention. I am simply waiting." Cárcel placed one foot on the apostle's face, glaring at the neck as if calculating the best way to break it.

Seeing this, Emiliano quickly stepped in front of him. "Please get your wounds treated first, I beg you! They may drag you away any moment now! Goodness, we are lucky that the holy knights are all dining on the far end of the cathedral... What if they had been patrolling this area?"

"That is of no concern. Your Lord has been watching everything. You already painted him onto the walls, after all."

Cárcel strode over to the sacred object that he had placed on the ground. He picked it up and began to toss it up and down like a light leather ball.

Emiliano stared at him with horror and anxiety, fearing that the man would go on to destroy the other statues as well.

But Cárcel did not approach the fallen statue or any of the other apostles. He simply gazed at the broken ankle of the apostle Anastasio and carefully pronounced the ancient word inscribed on the top of his foot: ανιστήμι.

"Anists."

Emiliano approached him and studied the letters. "So that is how that word is pronounced. I have always wondered... What does it mean?"

"To restore, or to heal."

"I see. That must be the mission given to the apostle. It is curious that you know its meaning-you are not even a priest. Where did you learn it?"

Cárcel ignored his question. "I was looking at this because I found it intriguing that I knew its meaning."

Emiliano fell silent, confounded.

"Intriguing, is it not? I am no priest, as you said." With a swift motion, Cárcel raised the sacred object in his hand and thwacked it down on the statue's foot. A crack formed in the sacred letters.

Emiliano's face crumpled. "Why..."

"As the sacred text says, 'The Apostles of War will descend onto this earth upon the destruction of a sacred statue on a holy ground. I remain faithful, Emiliano."

"That... is a prophecy of the apocalypse. It does not justify your desecration of the holy statue."

"I must see the Apostle of Resurrection."

"You can only see him if you encounter a sudden, untimely death-"

Cárcel cut him off. "I cannot wait until then."

"What if your actions have achieved nothing? What if you've simply tainted your soul with sin?"

"It matters not. I intended to destroy it regardless."

Emiliano was at a loss for words again.

"If that statue were alive, I would kill him. I would wrap my hands around his neck and choke the life out of him, even if I couldn't cause him any pain or injury." Cárcel brushed his bloodied hair back from his face and cast an emotionless gaze at the fallen statue. "There is something that I must ask him..."

He fell silent. For a moment, he stood motionless like a statue himself, staring at the apostle as if all of the life had drained from his body-as if he no longer had the strength to hold onto his rage, misery, and disgust.

The few seconds of silence felt like an eternity.

Suddenly, Cárcel released a soft laughter and looked up very slowly. His eyes were burning like twin flames under the blood flowing down his face. Emiliano recognized the look on his face, for he had once nearly met his end at the hands of men with swords and guns.

It was not simply the desire to kill, but something even deeper and more grotesque.

Then Cárcel spoke in a quiet voice that did not carry a single trace of emotion. "I have been in the navy for as long as I can remember, which means I have been a murderer in all of my lifetimes."

"There are no murderers in a holy war that is fought with the blessing of Our Lord. You-"

"I took the lives of those men, extinguished the light from their eyes, and destroyed their living flesh with my bullets. The blessing from the bishop of Calztela changes nothing. Even if it were from God Himself, I am still a murderer." His voice remained calm like a windless sea as he confessed his sins, his cold glare fixed on Anastasio. "This is where my confusion lies... If I haven't been punished for killing countless men, why has she been condemned?"

Wordlessly, Emiliano followed Cárcel's gaze to the broken remains of the apostle's statue.

"I have taken countless lives, but not Inés. The only life she has ever extinguished was her own. So why is she being punished instead of a wretched murderer like me? Why..." Cárcel's voice faltered, his face crumbling as soon as he mentioned Inés's tragic end.

Tears began to fall from his eyes, unfocused and distant. He chuckled mirthlessly. "I must ask the apostles... Why is their Lord punishing that poor woman? Why can I not even share her burden? I am worse than a murderer, so why..." Cárcel reached up to grab at his own neck as if he wanted to strangle himself, despite the bruises already marking his throat. Sobbing, he wailed, "Why can I not remember? I must save her! I should have saved her! I should have received that blasted punishment instead... All of this happened because of me! That bastard told me that he broke Inés to torment me...

Unable to think of the right words to comfort him, Emiliano maintained a respectful silence.

"I was once too scared to even look at her for too long. I feared my gaze might make her melt away like salt in water... I couldn't even hold her hand to kiss it, afraid I might hurt her... But that vile creature treated such a precious woman worse than a dog! All for what? Simply to provoke me!"

Although he had broken the sacred statue into pieces, the prophecy did not come true. The apostles did not answer.

A wild chuckle burst from Cárcel's lips. He violently clawed at his own neck until blood began to stream down.

Just as Cárcel's body began to tip forward, Emiliano grabbed him gently and helped him sit on the ground with his back against the wall. Cárcel took gasping, shallow breaths, unable to steady his own head after losing so much blood. It was clear that he had lost his sense of balance earlier on. Emiliano ripped a strip of fabric from the bottom of Cárcel's shirt and pressed it onto the bleeding injury.

Cárcel laughed and wept at the same time, as if his sanity had abandoned him. "I wish I had died like you, Emiliano. I wish I had begged to remember everything. Then I would have stayed far, far away from Inés."

Emiliano regarded him with a look of deep sympathy and regret in his eyes.

"I would have embraced death over causing her any more suffering due to my presence."