The dawn didn't break over the Forest of Jura; it shattered.
The sky, once a soft canvas of pre-dawn purples, was pierced by the silver-white banners of the First Holy Legion. This wasn't the ragtag scouting party I had dismantled at the Iron-Crag. This was the Church's iron fist—three thousand Paladins, five hundred Battle-Mages, and the High Inquisitor himself, a man named Bartholomew whose fanatical devotion was so dense it had its own gravitational pull.
I stood by the communal well of my "Potemkin Village," leaning on my gnarled wooden staff. Beside me, Sato Kenji was already on his feet, his Sun-Eater blade humming a low, anxious chord.
"They're early," Kenji whispered, his [Plot Armor] shimmering with a faint, golden light that pulsed in time with his heartbeat. "The High Priest said I would have a week to 'cleanse' the forest."
"Faith is rarely patient, Hero," I said, coughing into my hand. "Especially when it fears the truth might be heard."
The Legion didn't stop at the edge of the clearing. They marched through the carefully tended "peace-gardens," their armored boots crushing the wildflowers Pip had given Kenji the day before. They formed a semi-circle of steel and light, their shields etched with runes designed to suppress "Monster Mana."
High Inquisitor Bartholomew stepped forward, his white robes billowing despite the lack of wind. He looked at the "peaceful" Goblins with a disgust so pure it was almost beautiful.
"Sato Kenji," the Inquisitor's voice boomed, magically amplified. "Why does the Demon-Slime still breathe? Why do these abominations still stand upon the Holy Soil?"
Kenji stepped forward, his cape fluttering. "Inquisitor! There's been a mistake! These aren't demons. They're... they're just people. Refugees. The scholar Aris has been protecting them."
Bartholomew's eyes turned toward me. For a moment, his gaze pierced through my [Refractive Mask]. He didn't see a dying scholar; he saw a variable he couldn't control.
"The boy has been corrupted," Bartholomew said, his voice dropping to a lethal hiss. "The Slime is a master of illusions. It has fed him a feast of lies. Paladins! Purge the clearing. Leave no stone standing."
"No!" Kenji roared, drawing his sword. The blade erupted in a pillar of solar fire that forced the front line of Paladins back. "I am the Hero of Oros! I was summoned to protect the innocent! If you want to kill these people, you have to go through me!"
< Alert: Narrative Conflict Detected. > < Hero Skill [Plot Armor] is reacting to Moral Paradox. > < Status: The System is unable to determine who the 'Villian' is. >
This was the "Law of Diminishing Heroics." A Hero is only a Hero if they are fighting a clear evil. By forcing the Church to act as the aggressor against their own champion, I was short-circuiting the magic that fueled Kenji's power.
"Kenji-kun," I whispered, reaching out to touch his shoulder. "Don't do this. They will label you a heretic. They will hunt you just like they hunt us."
"Let them," Kenji said, his eyes burning with a tragic, Shonen-style resolve. "If the Church is the one hurting kids, then the Church is the monster."
It was a perfect line. If this were a manga, the theme music would be peaking right now. But I wasn't a mangaka; I was a scientist.
"Archivist," I pulsed. "Begin the 'Broadcast' protocol."
Throughout the Holy Capital of Oros and every major city in the Kingdom, the Slime-Sync network activated. I had spent months hiding "Signal Droplets" in the gutters, the tavern rafters, and the temple spires.
Suddenly, the sky over the Capital flickered. It didn't show the Sun; it showed the Forest of Jura. It showed the "Hero" Kenji standing against the "Holy Legion." It showed the High Inquisitor ordering the death of "innocent" children.
< Logic Sequence: Social Engineering in progress. > < Result: National Faith levels dropping by 0.8% per second. >
In the clearing, Bartholomew sensed the shift. He felt the prayer-mana—the energy channeled from the faith of the masses—begin to wither.
"Kill them all!" the Inquisitor screamed, his mask of divinity slipping to reveal the panicked tyrant beneath. "Kill the Hero! He is a False Prophet!"
The Paladins hesitated. Their entire lives had been built on the idea that the Hero was the pinnacle of their faith. To strike him was to strike God.
"I said KILL HIM!"
A single Paladin, driven by a darker, more fanatical enchantment, lunged forward. His spear was aimed not at Kenji, but at Pip, the "child" hiding behind the well.
Kenji moved faster than the eye could follow. But he didn't use the Sun-Eater to block. He used his own body.
The spear pierced Kenji's shoulder, the "Holy" steel hissing as it met his flesh.
"Kenji!" Laina screamed, rushing forward with her healing staff.
But I was already there. I "stumbled" forward, catching Kenji as he fell. As my humanoid hands touched his wound, I didn't just heal him. I used [The King's Calculation] to subtly alter the spear's trajectory, ensuring the wound looked fatal but missed every vital organ.
"Look at what they do to their own Savior," I whispered into Kenji's ear, my voice vibrating with a genuine, cold fury. "Is this the world you were summoned to save, Kenji-kun?"
Kenji looked at the Paladins, then at the sky where his own image was being broadcast to a horrified world. His golden aura didn't just dim; it shattered. The "Hero" was gone. In his place was a confused, bleeding boy from Tokyo who just wanted to go home.
< Alert: [Plot Armor] has collapsed. > < Target Sato Kenji has entered state: 'The Fallen Avenger'. >
"Archivist," I thought, standing up as the Paladins finally began their charge. "The play is over. It's time for the 'Scientific Rebuttal'."
I let the mask of the "Dying Scholar" dissolve. My skin turned back to a shimmering, lethal silver. My eyes ignited with the cobalt glow of a thousand processors.
"Fenris! Vector!" I boomed, my voice shattering the Inquisitor's amplification spell. "The Guest has seen enough. Close the Forest."
From the shadows of the trees, thirty railguns—hidden until this moment by high-level camouflage—hummed to life. The blue glow of electromagnetic charging lit up the woods like a neon nightmare.
"Physics Lesson Number Two," I said, looking at the terrified Inquisitor. "The speed of a 'Miracle' is limited by the speed of prayer. The speed of a railgun is limited by the speed of light. Let's see which one is faster."
[Volume 3: Chapter 3 End]