Providence. Was it though? If God’s hand had guided them in any way, would they have had to go through such experiences in the first place, Crowley wondered as he recalled what happened in that war.
How he only killed, only slaughtered the enemies meaninglessly, and how he had to watch his allies getting slaughtered in turn. But the worst of all was the face of the monster that appeared at the end. No, it may have been a hallucination. The hallucination that he, being weak-hearted as he was, conjured for himself when the despair from seeing Victor and the rest of his comrades getting killed just when they thought they had managed to survive got too much for him to bear.
But even if the monster was only a figment of his imagination, after seeing it, he couldn’t bring himself to believe in God’s love anymore.
No divine providence could be found anywhere. At least, not for him.
No, not just for him…
“….Even Gilbert got killed in the end. Are you going to say that it was providence, too?”
“Gilbert wanted you to return,” Roy said. “The Knights Templar need you. And that is a divine revelation, I’m sure. For you to come to your senses and take notice of God’s will again…”
Hearing that, Crowley frowned, his words coming out rougher and ruder than before. “Don’t screw with me, Roy. Are you saying that Gilbert died for my sake?”
“Listen, Crowley. We all let live in accordance with God’s—”
“Then I don’t need such a God. Gilbert was a man worth far more than me. And Victor, too, and Gustavo… and Commander Alfred… ”
Roy caught hold of Crowley’s hand at that. “Come back to us, Crowley. The Lord’s side is where you belong.”
Crowley gazed at Roy for a few moments before sighing, “Nonsense,” and lowering the blade. Picking up the scabbard lying on the floor, he sheathed the sword.
He couldn’t bring himself to serve a God that killed Victor and Gilbert any longer.