The Cult Leader in the Clergy Academy

Chapter 308

The clergyman guiding us pulled a series of levers hidden in the corner of the door. There were five levers in total, and all five had to be pulled in the correct order for the door to open. Just in case, I memorized the order in which to pull the levers.

At that moment, the director next to me asked, "Why? Coming back again?"

I was surprised, but I didn't show it outwardly. I looked at the director. He had a kind yet somewhat unsettling smile on his face as he stared at me intently.

"Even if you remember, it's meaningless. The order in which you have to pull the levers changes every day. That's why no one can enter recklessly," he said.

"Ah... I was just looking because it was fascinating," I explained.

The director nodded as if it was no big deal.

"Is that so? Alright then."

Soon after, the door opened. It was dark inside, but the clergyman guiding us turned on a flashlight to illuminate the darkness. Then he led us deep into the cave.

A strange smell lingered in the air as we walked. It was the unique damp and cool smell of a cave, accompanied by a sour and foul odor that emanated from within.

Obviously, it was not the smell of rotting flesh. The odor was very faint, but it permeated the entire cave. It seemed to be a scent that in the cave for a very long time.

At that moment, the clergyman guiding us said, "It will be difficult for me to guide you from here on out."

The director raised his eyebrows. "Are we supposed to just go by ourselves? I can't even see anything ahead."

"I will give you a flashlight. If you keep going straight, you will come across a door. Just open it and go in, there will be another clergyman inside."

Several clergymen managed the underground prison. Apparently, for security reasons, different people were assigned tasks that could have been done by one person.

If one person managed the underground prison, they would become too reliant on that one person for the security of the underground prison. In the end, the clergyman left, and only the director and I entered.

This was good for me.

The director illuminated the darkness with a flashlight and confidently moved forward, and I followed behind.

"Is this it?"

A wall appeared in front of us. No, what we initially thought was a wall turned out to be a huge door. We could tell because there was a door handle attached. The director tried pulling and pushing the door loop, but the door wouldn't budge. It was stuck firmly in place as if it was a wall.

"Hmm. Do we need a key to open it?" the director muttered.

"May I give it a try?"

"Oh, sure. Maybe I didn't exert enough strength."

The director graciously stepped aside and shone the flashlight toward the door handle. I grabbed the door handle and pulled with all my might.

The door shifted a little, but it didn't open. I lacked the strength to open it, so I decided to use the Blessing of Superhuman Strength. It had been a while since I had used a blessing instead of Bossou's power.

Creak...

The door opened only when I used the blessing. Light poured out from the open door. The brightness was blinding, making me furrow my eyebrows involuntarily. I forced my eyes open and stared beyond the door.

The sight was somewhat familiar. Paintings and statues hung on the walls, and the lighting had a slight yellow tint.

"..."

Beyond that door was a place that was no different from a regular cathedral or a Paladin Order office. It was decorated in the style of a Romanican Church style, so to speak.

I had expected the underground dungeon to be a dreadful place, but it wasn't. As the clergyman who guided us earlier had mentioned, there was indeed another clergyman inside.

The clergyman looked at us and quickly stood up from his seat. "Welcome. Are you from the Central Paladin Order?"

"Why are you asking? Don't recognize my face?" the director questioned.

"Ah... I asked as a formality. Please come in."

All the clergymen in the underground prison seemed to be affiliated with the Central Paladin Order. They even wore the distinctive attire of paladins affiliated with the Central Paladin Order. The director treated them casually, and the paladins treated the director formally.

Accompanying the director was a significant variable, but it could also be a good thing to consider. As long as I was with the director, I would not face any suspicion from the clergymen working in the underground prison.

They did not question or doubt me since I was accompanying the director. Therefore, if I successfully subdued the director, the plan could proceed smoothly.

The director remarked, "It seems cleaner than last time. Looks like there was a repaint... Did you perhaps do some repair work?"

"Um, because of the rules, it’s difficult for me to say," the clergyman replied.

"I know, I know. I was just talking to myself," the director said as he gestured to the clergyman as if asking for something.

The clergyman took out two gas masks and handed them to the director.

The director handed me an anti-Voodoo mask. "Shall we go in?"

The mask was Sung Yu-Da’s invention. The director immediately put on the anti-Voodoo mask, but I just held onto mine. It was not the right time for me to wear it yet.

I watched the clergyman and the director and waited for their gazes to shift elsewhere.

Unlike when he was in the Central Paladin Order, the director showed a very cheerful demeanor upon entering the underground prison. He joked around with the clergyman and sometimes muttered to himself in a louder tone. It was like watching a child at an amusement park.

The director excitedly chatted with the clergyman in the underground prison, allowing me to briefly escape their attention. In that brief moment, I made some adjustments to the anti-Voodoo mask.

The director finished his conversation and looked at me and the gas mask in my hand.

"What's wrong? Why haven't you worn it yet?"

I awkwardly smiled and said, "I have a big head... so the size doesn't fit. Can you change it for me?"

"Is your head really that big that the gas mask doesn't fit? It doesn't seem like it."

“It doesn’t look like it, but a lot of my head is hidden under my hair...”

"Is that so? Let's swap then."

The director took off his gas mask and handed it to me, and I also handed him the gas mask I was holding. We each wore each other’s gas masks.

I watched as the director put on the gas mask. Engraved on the gas mask he had just put on was a spell. I had engraved it when the clergyman's and the director's gazes were directed elsewhere. The mask couldn’t block a spell if it was activated beneath the mask.

"Let's go into the real underground prison now.”

I tilted my head and asked, "Isn’t this already the underground prison?"

"This isn't underground."

"..."

Indeed, the place we were in was too well-equipped to be called a prison.

"The prison is below. It’s underground... deep underground," the director explained, emphasizing the last two words before taking off again.

He continued walking until he stopped in front of a very small door.

Creak.

The director opened the door, revealing a space filled with pitch darkness. I furrowed my brows and peered intently into the darkness.

There were stairs leading down from the door. The director started to descend the stairs, and I followed behind.

Tap, tap.

The director's footsteps echoed loudly with each step down the stairs because of his boots. The noise sounded sinister.

We continued down the stairs without any conversation. I couldn't tell how far down we were going. I heard each of the director's footsteps down the stairs, and at the same time, a particular stench grew stronger.

It was the sour and pungent scent of decaying bodies that I had smelled previously.

The director stopped walking. He stood in front of a door and opened it without hesitation. Instantly, the faint smell intensified to the point of making my nose numb.

"Come in. Make sure you keep your gas mask on," the director said as he entered the underground prison.

I nodded and followed him into the underground prison. It was hot down there. I wondered if it was because of geothermal heat. If that was the case, how far down had we actually descended underground?

I looked around. At first, it was too dark to see clearly. But my eyes soon adjusted to the darkness, and the structure of the underground prison became visible.

I initially thought that it was too dark to see clearly, but that wasn't the case. The walls, bars, and everything else in the underground prison were painted in a dark shade. Thus, distinguishing between right and left was difficult, and even more so between front and back.

The faces of the prisoners were vaguely visible through the bars. However, the underground prison was not well-lit enough to see their faces clearly, their faces all severely disfigured.

It was impossible to tell who was who. Based on their groans, I could barely guess whether they were women or men.

The director remarked, "You seem calmer than I thought. Newcomers usually vomit, cry, and cause a scene here. Do you have a strong stomach?"

"Yes, I do."

"That's fortunate. Paladins need to have a strong stomach, especially those from the Central Paladin Order,” the director commented as he walked forward.

I followed him. As I looked around, I tried to capture the faces of the prisoners vaguely visible through the bars.

The director kept the conversation going. "The director of the Northern Crusader Order, whom you arrested, is in a corner. He says he committed embezzlement and corruption but claims he had no involvement in collusion with cultists and treason."

"Is that so?"

"Isn't that funny? They acquitted him of embezzlement and corruption charges. On the contrary, only the charges involving collusion with cultists were acknowledged," the director said as he laughed.

He didn’t just laugh slightly. He laughed so much that his entire body convulsed.

What was so funny? I didn't laugh—I couldn't. I just felt uncomfortable.

The director was respected because he was known in the Central Paladin Order as more rational and calm than anyone else. However, as soon as he entered the underground prison, he showed a bright and light-hearted demeanor, as if he had regressed to a childlike state.

The director I’d seen in the Central Paladin Order and the director before me in the underground prison seemed like completely different people. The difference felt extremely eerie.

"Not finding it funny?" the director asked.

"I find it funny."

"Is that right? Your expression is hard to read. Maybe it's because it's dark here."

The director kept walking, and I followed. The unbearable stench that had permeated the prison gradually faded. The moans of the prisoners, who were so feeble that they could barely even scream, also became faint.

I gradually became desensitized to the various horrors in the prison. Perhaps my nose, ears, and mind had all gone numb. I could no longer smell the stench, hear the moans, or feel anything going on around me.

Then, I suddenly stopped walking and stood in front of a room in the underground prison.

The room was surrounded by shoddy iron bars on all sides. Amid the chains and torture tools beyond the bars, there was something that caught my eye.

"What is it?" the director asked.

I did not answer. I just fixed my gaze on the faint figure beyond the bars.

I couldn't breathe. I swallowed my saliva. The sensation of saliva passing through my throat was rough. My heart skipped a beat. My hands and feet grew cold. In contrast, my face and head grew hot.

"Ah, this is where we torture—"

Crack!

I smashed the director's gas mask with my fist. Purple fog filled the director's gas mask, and he soon lost consciousness.

"Mother."

My mother stood behind the bars.