Chapter 188: Humans Can Never Truly Understand Each Other!
Irene had once heard from her mentor—the current High Inquisitor Dario—that the brightness of an Inquisitor's lantern was often determined by their willpower and mental strength, rather than the raw power of their Originium Arts.
But never in her life did she imagine she'd witness light this intense.
Even if a Saint personally wielded one of these lanterns, it shouldn't have been able to shine this blindingly bright, right?
Her vision was completely overwhelmed by the sudden burst of blinding white light, forcing her to cover her stinging eyes.
But rather than her own pain, another question dominated her thoughts:
—How the hell did Steven do that?!
She had finally gotten a taste of what Steven always complained about—that feeling of getting hit head-on by high-beam headlights.
Even though she wasn't a Seaborn, the sheer intensity of the light left her dizzy and disoriented.
Of course, as uncomfortable as it was for Irene, the one who suffered the most was undoubtedly Emmaia.
Her agonized screams filled the tiny room, so raw and piercing that it sounded like she was being torn apart.
It's not the kind of scream one would expect from someone who had simply been blinded by light, but rather…
The kind of scream Irene had only ever heard from sea monsters being exposed to an Inquisitor's lantern.
After what felt like an eternity, the searing light gradually dimmed, and Irene was finally able to force her sore eyes open.
Her gaze immediately landed on the culprit behind this blinding chaos.
What she saw was Steven, squinting in discomfort, rubbing his own eyes, wearing an expression of sheer annoyance as he glared at the lantern in his hand.
"Is there seriously no output limit on this thing? No friendly-fire protection either? I swear, I almost blinded myself."
Steven grumbled, rubbing his temples as if the whole thing had been nothing more than an annoying inconvenience.
But as far as he was concerned, the only real issue was how bright it was—he hadn't actually noticed any other effects from the lantern.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I just want to know why you were even able to use an Inquisitor's lantern in the first place."
"That thing isn't a toy."
Irene's voice was laced with disbelief.
As one of the signature tools of the Inquisitors, the lantern didn't require the same Originium Arts as their pistols.
However, it did require a highly disciplined mental state to operate properly.
Yet Steven had picked it up and used it instantly—and with insane power output.
That shouldn't have been possible.
"Isn't the whole point of tools to use them?"
Steven responded nonchalantly, before casually glancing over his shoulder at the real issue in the room.
"Besides… shouldn't you be more concerned about the lady behind me?"
"Because right now, she doesn't look like just any ordinary human."
Irene froze.
Following Steven's gaze, she turned to look at Emmaia—
And what she saw made her blood run cold.
The girl who once stood tall as an Inquisitor was now curled up on the floor like a giant shrimp, trembling uncontrollably.
The intense light had seemingly burned away some kind of disguise—or perhaps triggered an unwanted transformation.
Because what was left of Emmaia…
Looked nothing like the girl she once knew.
Patches of fish-like scales had surfaced on her skin, eerily similar to the ones that had appeared on Irene earlier.
But this time, the transformation was far worse.
Visible gill-like slits had formed on either side of her neck, opening and closing as if struggling for air.
And unlike Irene's momentary changes, Emmaia's transformation was severe—
So severe that she now barely resembled a Liberi at all.
So severe that, from Steven's perspective, she was indistinguishable from the mutated villagers he had encountered before.
"Tsk, weren't you acting all convincing just now? Shouldn't you be giving us an explanation now?"
Crouching down, Steven glanced at the girl bound in spider webs. Even curled up, she couldn't completely ignore the lingering effects of the lantern's radiance.
He waited patiently for her to recover.
Meanwhile, Irene, who had witnessed everything, could only cover her mouth, her face filled with disbelief.
Before, she could still convince herself that Steven might have been mistaken. But now, the undeniable truth was right in front of her eyes.
Had her former companion, whom she refused to believe had betrayed them, truly become one of the sea monsters?
"You've already discovered me. What more is there to explain? Do you want me to tell you how I ended up like this?"
Emmaia coughed twice, her pained expression easing slightly.
The light had affected her greatly, but fortunately, it hadn't lasted long enough to cause serious physical harm.
However, the real problem was that her identity had now been exposed.
In a town where Saints resided, exposure meant only one thing—death.
At this point, rather than struggle or make excuses, she seemed to have accepted her fate. She simply looked at them, awaiting their judgment.
"I don't really have anything to say. The one who wants to talk to you is her."
Steven shrugged and stepped aside, giving the stage to Irene.
After all, compared to him, the one truly wounded by this revelation was Irene—not physically, but deep in her heart.
"Heh. Disappointed?"
Emmaia sneered at the girl who hesitated to step forward, covering her mouth as if afraid to speak.
Whether she was mocking her own predicament or pitying Irene, it was unclear.
"Why… why did you become like this? And even if you have, you still can't—"
Irene struggled to voice her thoughts. She simply couldn't accept that her friend had turned into this.
"Do you think this is ugly?" Emmaia lowered her head to glance at her transformed body before laughing. "No, I think this suits me better. At least now, I can return to the ocean. I can feel my kin, instead of being surrounded by those lifeless, indifferent creatures who call themselves humans."
Her laughter wasn't one of shame or regret.
It was genuine, filled with pride.
"Iberia is already finished. We are finished. The Inquisition is only hastening this country's demise. If the people of this land wish to survive, then what does it matter if we embrace the sea?"
"Why can't we coexist with the sea monsters?"
Emmaia questioned Irene, her tone carrying a conviction as if it were Irene, not herself, who was truly imprisoned.
"You know exactly what the Church of the Deep is doing! You know what they did to those villagers!"
Irene clutched her mouth, unable to believe Emmaia would turn the question back on her.
"So what? If sacrificing a small number of people as offerings can ensure the survival of the rest, isn't that a great achievement?"
"If all of Iberia became part of the sea, there would be no more hunger, no more oppression. After touching the thoughts of the great tides, I finally understand—humans are nothing but selfish, self-serving creatures."
Emmaia laughed, her face now consumed by a fervent zealotry.
Steven didn't quite grasp what she was trying to convey, but one thing was clear—her mental state was far from stable.
She reminded him of that village chief from before.
People will do anything when pushed to the brink. And when it comes to survival, many won't hesitate to abandon their humanity.
"So, Irene, don't think of this as betrayal or anything like that. I simply grew tired of living as a human. The Church of the Deep gave me a new life, and I willingly accepted it. From the bottom of my heart, I hope that you will join us as well."
Emmaia extended her hand toward Irene.
Even now, she hadn't abandoned the idea of persuading others.
More accurately, she didn't seem to think of it as persuasion at all—just a truth that others refused to accept.
"I... I can't do it. This is just sophistry! There are other ways—other paths we can take!"
Irene looked at the outstretched hand of the monster before her and took a step back. Instead of responding to Emmaia, she turned toward Steven.
If this had happened before today, perhaps she might have wavered at her former companion's words.
But Steven's presence had shattered all these so-called justifications.
There were other ways for the people of Iberia to survive. There were other paths to take.
They didn't need to sacrifice others.
They didn't need the Church of the Deep to turn them into monsters.
Emmaia's words were nothing more than self-delusion—a lie she told herself to justify her actions.
"So you really can't understand, huh? Humans are just lowly, selfish creatures."
Emmaia sneered, her voice filled with contempt.
"I thought that, as my former friend, you would at least see some sense."
She didn't bother hiding the disgust in her eyes as she looked at Irene—like she was gazing at some kind of revolting insect.
But she failed to realize that, at this moment, she was the true monster.
"It's precisely because I've seen what they've done that I refuse to understand. The Church of the Deep's actions cannot be justified by some lofty ideal. Wrong is wrong. No grand ambition can wash away their sins. The suffering they have inflicted on civilians is real—undeniable, bloodstained proof."
Steven had thought Irene would be shaken by this confrontation. But instead, the girl who had backed away now took several firm steps forward.
Hearing her resolute words, a small, satisfied smile appeared on Steven's face.
This was the little Inquisitor he knew.
She had her emotions, yes, but she always remained true to herself.
That was why Steven enjoyed being around this little bird.
"Hah, say whatever you like."
Emmaia let out a cold laugh.
"For now, just accept this final gift I've prepared for you!"
The moment she finished speaking, an ominous energy began surging from her chest.
However, that was all she managed to do.
In an instant, Steven flickered forward and appeared right in front of her.
With a single powerful punch to the stomach, he knocked her unconscious.
The sinister energy gathering in her chest dissipated immediately.
"Trying to self-destruct in front of me? Wow, you really don't take me seriously, huh?"
Steven clapped his hands lightly, looking down at the unconscious girl with a smile.
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