“Huh. Well.”

It was the Priests from the Thornbush Priest Organization that Juan was going after, not the beings from the Crack. Juan didn’t intend to deal with the intellectuals who ran away on their own if they weren’t planning to intervene in the matters of this land. Even when he had been the emperor, Juan did not chase after the gods who fled to the Crack.

“Then this is the only one who is left.”

Juan headed toward the center of the temple where dozens of tentacles the size of trees were rolling on the ground, almost as if they had been roughly torn apart. In the center of the temple was a Priest who had lost all his limbs. He was sobbing helplessly.

“Gerard! Gerard Gain that fucking bastard! He said that he killed the emperor!” the Priest cried.

“Well, I’m sorry that I’m not dead,” Juan looked down at the man coldly and muttered. “But unlike me, you will most certainly die.”

The man’s head exploded, with blood splattering everywhere as soon as Juan’s feet touched his chin. It was hard to find even a single trace of the man in the blood scattered all over.

Haild scratched his chin and then opened his mouth.

“Didn’t you want to interrogate him? You must have had a lot of questions to ask.”

“I already did. But, it turns out that he doesn’t know much—not to mention that it’s been a...