Chrysalis Chapter 1745 - Heresy Meets Heresy

Beyn felt uncertain about his emotions as he prepared to encounter the Grand Priest again. In the past, he'd dreamed that fellow members of his former order would gain the same insight he now possessed, allowing them to step into the radiance of this emerging Path. Yet, following the catastrophe in the Silver City, such hopes had faded into uncertainty.

Lost in contemplation with his head lowered, he strolled along the nest's internal paths, heading toward the detention areas. These well-illuminated and roomy hallways stood as yet another testament to the Colony's consideration for allies who decided to journey with them. Beyn frequently pondered how the ants' own tunnels remained narrow and shadowy, suited to their tastes—tight passages meant for them to crowd together from every direction. In contrast, for humans and other cohabitants, the Colony freely offered comforts they seldom granted themselves.

At that moment, no companions traveled this hallway alongside him, leaving him alone to admire the perfect engravings, the intricate tapestries, and the gentle luminescence from the magic-infused wall lamps placed at regular intervals. He moved quietly, the faint click of his ant-shaped staff against the ground as his sole accompaniment.

Arriving at his goal, he exited the passage into a communal chamber, overseen by twelve vigilant ants who maintained a steady, motionless vigil over the captives inside. In this section of twenty-four enclosures, most held soldiers from the Judgement Battalion, each looking pale and diminished, struck by an unexplained frailty.

“Excuse me. Where can I find the Priest, Alir Vinting?” he inquired, employing his now-perfect pheromonal communication.

“He is in the cell toward the back, the one on the right,” the quick response indicated.

Long ago, the ants had shown astonishment and disbelief when he addressed them via pheromones, puzzled by how he generated them absent the proper organ. Their curiosity often waned upon learning it stemmed from mana. These days, non-ants using their method of speech no longer startled them. This development filled Beyn with deep satisfaction, marking the increasing bond between the Colony and Path followers.

“Thank you. May the Great One illuminate your steps.”

“Who?”

Too absorbed to catch the guard's retort, Beyn pressed onward firmly to the farthest cells. Though far more opulent than any jail he'd known before, these compact chambers still felt sparse and confining by Colony measures, their occupants plainly exposed to outside viewers.

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

Alir Vinting sat precisely as the guard described, relaxed in his seat while drinking from a teacup, his garments still marked by battlefield grime.

A surge of fury immediately flared in Beyn's heart. He confronted the man directly.

Though he couldn't explain his knowledge, certainty blazed within him, scorching his chest and flaring in his gaze, dissolving every trace of hesitation.

“It was you,” he declared.

He halted just beyond the bars confining the Grand Priest, fixing the prisoner with an intense stare. Alir, however, remained composed, setting down his cup as he faced his unexpected visitor.

“You will need to be a little more clear,” he replied.

In a burst of rage, Beyn raised his staff and slammed it against the stone floor.

“It was you!” he burst out. “You orchestrated the seizure of the missing ant in the Silver City! During that library encounter, you probed me for details, seeking every scrap of knowledge. I believed you might have glimpsed the New Path's light, but truly, you schemed your… your betrayal.”

The one-armed Priest uttered the term with revulsion. It failed to capture the full depth of his contempt and revulsion toward the deeds of the figure before him, yet no harsher label came to mind.

“You speak to me of heresy?” Alir scoffed. “A fallen Priest of the Way who lost his mind along with his arm? The only light in your eyes is that of madness. Monsters are here for our glory, not the other way around. I have done nothing but follow the Path as it was laid before us at the dawn of Pangera! You were once a person who understood that.”

“I was shown a greater truth. A partnership and a way forward that uplifts all involved. Look at the prosperity and power all around you and tell me I am wrong!”

Alir glanced at the fine porcelain vessel in his grasp. With scorn, he let it drop, watching it break apart on the ground.

“You are wrong,” he stated plainly.

No redemption existed for him. No value in trying. For the first time since his revelation, Beyn experienced a sensation akin to hatred. He felt no compassion or sorrow for the other's lack of vision. Such flaws could be overlooked. But his deeds, those deeds proved unforgivable.

“Sitting in a cell, telling me you have done nothing wrong,” Beyn growled. “I wonder if the Colony will see things the same way.”

He inclined his head subtly toward the formidable ant-head sculpture crowning his staff. For the first time since Beyn's arrival, Alir displayed a hint of unease.

“Threatening me, a Grand Priest of the Church?” he sneered. “Look at how far you have fallen. Is there anything left of your decency, of your faith?”

“My faith has never burned brighter,” Beyn murmured, his gaze piercing the man opposite. “If you can be threatened with the truth, then perhaps you walk the wrong Path. I will tell them what you have done, then your fate will be left in their mandibles. Normally, the justice of the Colony is quite lenient, but… for you, I foresee a different outcome.”

“If they kill me, they will bring down a storm upon their own idiotic, monstrous heads,” Alir shot back. “You know that. Do you intend to endanger your own false salvation?”

“I’ll tell them. But it won’t make a difference.”

Beyn retreated with grave deliberation.

“Walk in the light of the True Path,” he said, “for whatever time remains to you.”