Chương 130: Request for Proposal

Hubert Babiarz never thought of himself as a religious man. He pretended, of course, for a religious man was seen as a trustworthy man. A good man. When he was rudely ambushed outside of Viswa by a parliament of strzygi he knew for sure—Stvora was made up. He would have cursed him, too, but he didn't, because why would you curse a god who didn't exist. It was when they put him in a cage that he started cursing the god.

At the same time he wondered if this was some kind of punishment by Stvora for his lack of devotion. When the strzygi bound Romana to a flat rock and started shrieking, he came back to his senses and decided that there was no Stvora. So he sat there in that cage, and all he could do was accept his death. He'd rather he didn't die, of course, but there wasn't much he could do. They would suck his blood, eat his intestines, and that would be the end of Hubert Babiarz, [Auditor].

It was the perfect class for a man who believed in nothing but the cold, hard certainty of numbers, and he had been perfectly happy with it all his life. He'd spent his time looking at the accounts of pious merchants and holy monasteries, only to find the same patterns of fraud and embezzlement everywhere. To Hubert, the world wasn't run by Stvora, it was run by greed. And that was fine by him. They'd slide a few gold his way and he'd pretend not to notice. He wasn't rich, but he was comfortable.

He was satisfied with his class choice. Sitting in the cage, however, he wished he had picked something else. Something that would have allowed him to punch the bars out of the cage and punch the teeth out of the strzygi. But he hadn't, so he couldn't, and now he was stuck in the cage and they would bite him with those teeth. He put his head in his hands and wished it would be over soon. That he wouldn't have to suffer much. That they would eat Polikarp first because he was annoying and had a stupid name.

If his parents didn't love him enough to give him a normal name, he surely deserved to die first. Hubert should die last, because he had a dignified name. He peeked between his fingers. The strzygi weren't paying them any attention. They were kind of dancing around Romana, probably performing some kind of demonic ritual. At least demons were real, that was certain. But if demons were real, didn't that have to mean that it was possible Stvora was real?

But if Stvora was real, why would he allow these demons to exist? He shook his head. No. Stvora wasn't real. But if demons were real… could that mean there was something else? Something that wasn't Stvora? Something he just didn't know of yet, because no one had told him. That was possible. And whatever that was, it probably didn't know him yet either. How could it? He'd never prayed to it. If he was going to die, he might as well attempt to communicate with whatever was out there, if anything was out there.

But what do you even say to an unknown deity when you're an [Auditor]? To whom it may concern, I have an urgent request regarding my current physical integrity? The shrieking intensified. Romana was crying. Polikarp was crying too, loud and snotty, just like his loud and snotty name. This only confirmed that he should die first. He closed his eyes. He wasn't sure what to do or where to place his hands, so he just placed them over his heart. Whatever you are. I'm open to a deal.

I've spent my life identifying misstatements and control deficiencies in complex organizations. If you get me out of this cage, I swear, I'll perform a deep-dive into your operations. Every financial and operational risk will be accounted for and mitigated. Everything will be perfectly balanced. Everything will be in control. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. And if we still have to die, please let Polikarp die first.

But I would prefer it if we didn't die. Polikarp can still die, though. As his prayer concluded he heard several ear-splitting cracks, but he did not open his eyes. Now everyone was screaming, but he did not open his eyes. Something wet and thick splattered on his face, but he did not open his eyes. This is it, he thought. That was Polikarp, and I'm next. Then a series of loud booms shook the hall and rattled the cage. A second of nothing, then another sharp crack and everything and everyone went silent.

Hubert was still alive. He opened his eyes. What he saw was the last thing he would have expected. An exotic young woman held the severed head of the big stryga. As she held it, it shrank to the size of a pebble. His eyes swept the room, but he could no longer see the other demons. The entire place was splattered with black ichor. The same type that was oozing out of the headless corpse. Just then he put together what had happened. That woman must have obliterated them in the few seconds he had his eyes closed.

Was that possible? He suddenly felt butterflies in his stomach and he started to sweat. His heart started thumping so hard he was afraid it was about to burst out of his chest as realization set in. This was the one who had answered his prayer. This was no woman. This was a goddess. Despite the woman—no, deity—being covered in the same black liquid as the hall, he could tell she was beautiful. Divinely so. Of course she was, she was a goddess. Her eyes shone a silver-white, a color no mortal had or could ever have.

Her dark hair seemed to suck in the dim light around her. Her form was perfect. She calmly started walking to Romana and untied her. His prayers really had been answered. His! A simple [Auditor]. And not by Stvora, by this goddess! Everyone had been praying to the wrong god all along. That's why nothing good ever happened! Suddenly it made a lot of sense that every church he'd audited had unbalanced books. They were all fronts set up to steal ungodly amounts of gold. Stvora probably never even existed.

The Church of Stvora had everyone fooled. It probably was one of the biggest frauds in history. Hubert couldn't help but be impressed. The goddess started walking towards them and he got pulled back into the moment. She said something, but he couldn't hear her over the thumping in his ears. Everyone was screaming, but he couldn't hear it. People were shaking each other. Odeta's eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her head. They probably realized it too. They were in the presence of a goddess.

He couldn't help but stare at her, and the longer he stared the faster his heart beat. He tried blinking the sweat out of his eyes. He started to feel lightheaded. Is this what it's like to regard divinity? Is this what happens when you glimpse beyond mortality? A feeling of complete and utter awe struck him. It was breathtaking. So much so, that he dropped to his knees and started sobbing.

He looked at her through his tears and felt wave after wave of pure love wash over his body, filling him with her divine energy. It felt as if every sin he had ever committed was being forgiven. She saw right through him, and she wanted to let him know she did. She wanted him to know she forgave him. She wanted him to know she saw the man he was was gone now, and showed him the man he could become. She smiled warmly at them and as if by a miracle, the cage opened.

The holy glow in her eyes shone so bright it was almost blinding, but he didn't dare look away. Neither did he want to. He wanted to be with her forever. He would do anything for her, and he knew instinctively she would do anything for him. For all of them. The love that pulsed through him grew stronger still and he felt light as a feather. The horrible events of the past few days seemed nothing but a distant memory now. Only a shadow of a thought remained in the back of his mind.

Even that she had spared him of in her infinite mercy and benevolence. Hubert's world, which had once been built on the cold, hard certainty of double-entry bookkeeping, had just been audited by the divine. The auditor had become the auditee. He knew she wanted him to follow her. He had to follow her. He glanced around. Apparently everyone felt the same way. Together, they marched after her with new purpose in their step.

Together, they moved as a living testament to her grace, a choir of the redeemed, walking through the valley of the shadow of death without fear, for she was with them. Hubert Babiarz was no longer a man who believed in nothing, for he believed in her. He didn't even care that Polikarp was still alive.