Campione: Strongest# 482: The Real Point

[Heretical Containment Protocols]

[Dark Authority Experimental Report]

[Dark Authority Control Trials]

[On the Establishment and Management of the Twenty‑Seven Dead Apostle Ancestors]

Haru sat in a folding chair at the long table, leaning forward with his right hand propping up his cheek, index finger tapping lightly against his temple as he stared at the open scroll in front of him.

He was deep in thought.

Calling it a “report” was almost generous — it read more like a bundle of research notes, dissecting the Dark Six Authorities from every possible angle.

Back in the second century, Yahweh, God‑King of the Cross faith, and the Crimson Moon had joined forces to cut that being into six parts and seal them away.

The job of guarding those seals, naturally, was handed down to their subordinates — the Holy Church.

But when the Age of Gods ended and the divinities retreated back into the Counter Force, the Church suddenly found itself without any real top‑tier muscle.

So they set their sights on that sealed “original Dead Apostle.”

“The Church actually built itself up by riding the Dark Six Authorities, huh.”

Haru’s lips tugged into a smirk, deep gray eyes full of open contempt.

An organization that branded itself as justice and humanity’s shield, using its supposed mortal enemy as a ladder — it was almost funny.

Good thing he was only a knockoff god.

If the real thing were here, He probably would’ve dropped down ages ago and wiped out these heretics for violating the doctrine this hard.

“It’s not quite right to call it the Dark Six Authorities. Strictly speaking, they’re six Dead Apostle Ancestors.”

Narbareck drew the short knife strapped to her thigh and started casually shaving her nails with its razor‑sharp edge, her tone dripping with scorn.

“The Twelfth, Nineteenth, Twenty‑Second, Twenty‑Third, Twenty‑Fifth, and Twenty‑Sixth.”

“Those spots on the list? The so‑called ‘sealed ancestors’ your Church loves to brag about?”

“—Each one is actually a piece of the Dark Six.”

“Those rankings… you mean the ones they say were sealed away at great cost to protect the faithful?”

Ciel shot up from her folding chair, staring at Narbareck in shock.

Four years of training at Church headquarters had drilled those “great sacrifices” into her as gospel.

Finding out it was all padded glory felt like watching your idol suddenly announce they were married with three kids.

“Calm down, Ciel.”

Haru lifted a hand and gently pressed her back into her seat.

He was starting to regret sending her into the Church.

If she turned into a full‑blown fanatic, then he—

…Wait. Wasn’t the one she believed in actually him?

Now he wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

Was he supposed to control believers with his power?

Or just… control believers?

“Isn’t it obvious? A staged ‘sealing operation’ from start to finish.

It’s the Church. What else do you expect?”

Caren’s pale‑gold eyes narrowed to slits, her expression not shifting even a fraction.

“Caren!! Watch your mouth a little.”

Ciel shot her a reproachful look, then sneaked a nervous glance at the hand still resting on her shoulder.

Bad‑mouthing the Church in front of the man at the top of its entire theology… she was legitimately worried for her friend.

Haru noticed that anxious little peek and couldn’t help the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth.

He really wasn’t that petty.

He wasn’t the type to hold grudges over a few sharp words and make someone’s life hell.

Besides, given how messy things were between him and Caren already, would he really start scolding her over something this trivial?

Before he could say anything, Narbareck slammed her dagger point‑down into the table, a playful grin curling across her lips.

“All right, all right — forget the small stuff.

Let’s talk business.”

Everyone in the room turned their attention fully on her.

Narbareck ignored the weight of all those stares and fixed her gaze on Haru alone.

“It’s annoying, but the old man in the pointy hat wanted me to pass along the Church’s request.”

She waved a hand dismissively.

“I’ll skip the flattery — the gist is simple... They want you, Boss, sitting in the back line. Once the Church and the Mage’s Association corner the Dark Six Authorities and drag it out into the open, they’re asking you to move in and seal it again.”

Haru’s brow arched slightly, his expression turning contemplative.

Seal it?

Not a chance.

He had exactly one plan for the Dark Six Authorities — kill it so hard it stopped being a concept.

Still, letting the Church and the Association flush it out first wasn’t a bad idea.

Tokyo held nearly fifteen million Dead Apostles at this point.

If he used a wide‑area attack, Haru could wipe them all out in one shot.

But his instincts as a Godslayer were screaming that the fallout from that move would be catastrophic.

At his current level, he trusted that instinct without question.

And honestly, if the Dark Six had the guts to set up a situation like this, there was no way it hadn’t prepared countermeasures against a full‑map bombardment.

So those fifteen million Dead Apostles would have to be handled by the Holy Church and the Mage’s Association.

He let out a soft sigh at the thought, then turned back to Narbareck, face settling into something much more serious.

“What’s the concrete plan on the Church’s side? And how is the Association responding?”

Narbareck frowned, scratching her head in mild irritation.

Ask her to carve people up, no problem.

Ask her to explain the Church’s strategic layout? She was the wrong person for that.

Her job this time really was just “deliver the request.”

Then something clicked.

Narbareck blinked, as if she’d suddenly remembered a detail she’d almost forgotten, then shrugged.

“Actually, if you check the time… they should be here already.”

“Hm?”

Haru’s eyebrow rose again.

The Reien Academy auditorium covered more than two thousand square meters.

Every row of seats had been ripped out by brute force, leaving the hall feeling strangely vast now that the dense forest of chairs was gone.

All across that open floor, magi in pristine black leather coats squatted at carefully marked points, radiating a chill, iron‑blooded aura.

Each one dug materials out of the packs on their backs, drawing and anchoring thaumaturgical formulas across the bare floor.

As pale violet circuits slowly spread to cover the entire hall, an eerie pressure began to seep out of the lines.

The hall looked less like a school facility and more like the center of some massive cult ritual.

The only person still standing in the room suddenly let their face harden.

Their voice came out clipped and sharp.

———————————

“First and second array teams, fall back.”

The magi crouched over the sigils rose in unison and withdrew from the hall in an orderly flow.

“Chanting squads, Team One and Team Two — stand by.”

Nearly a hundred magi charged in through the main doors, taking their positions at key nodes of the magic circle.

The moment everyone locked into place, large‑scale aria thundered through the air.

With a flare of deep violet light, silhouettes wrapped in formalwear thick with magical energy began to appear one after another within the hall.

Lorelei Barthomeloi stepped forward ahead of the crowd, her expression as cold as carved stone as she glanced back at the continuous stream of people emerging from the transfer array.

“Members of each Department — proceed to your assigned locations as planned.”

“Yes, Wizard Marshal!!”

The unified shout shook the air.

Once the final orders were given, Lorelei turned and looked toward the two figures standing behind her.

“Representatives of the Atlas Institute and the Wandering Sea — with me.”

With that, she pivoted on her heel, ponytail snapping through the air as she strode in a straight line toward the prep room.