What none of them had expected was for the Saintess and the two clients to pop back into the room just a few seconds after they’d teleported away. Pope Lathan blinked, staring blankly at the clients.
A few seconds passed, and everyone stood silent—the Cardinals, the priest, the Pope, and even Hannah herself.
Dominic’s decision had been abrupt even for Hannah, after all—one second she was in the dungeon, and the next she had been whisked back to the church to receive her deepest desire without precursor or fanfare.
After all the time she’d spent in the dungeon grinding, endlessly helping Calvin level himself up and solidifying her own specializations, her wish had become an almost distant fantasy. She’d never forgotten, but it’d been firmly tucked away in that space of ‘not now or anytime soon.’
To have that timeline suddenly escalated from ‘someday’ to ‘right now’ was… well. She wasn’t prepared in the slightest. Which is why she stood frozen like a deer caught in headlights.
The Pope quickly regained his composure. The clients must be disappointed with Hannah for some reason or they wouldn’t have returned her so quickly. If he was to salvage the deal before it fell through, he’d need to think fast.
"Clients, could you please tell me what’s wrong? Has the saintess perhaps offended you? Or maybe you need something—more members to heal you? I, and the Cardinals, are more than willing to help."
The client who had been negotiating all along—the black-haired older man—blinked in confusion. "What do you mean? I’m done."
Pope Lathan stared at him in silence.
The client met his gaze, unblinking. Then, the man slapped his forehead, realizing, "Oh right, I slowed down time in the dungeon. No wonder. It must’ve seemed like I appeared suddenly. Man, I’m really becoming more absent-minded with Gabrielle helping me out for everything. Is it even good for me to be so relaxed? Then again, I mean, I am on vacation, with an amazing assistant helping me."
Assistant? Was he talking about the younger man? Or the Saintess? Pope Lathan wasn’t sure how to even begin to parse that statement, and he wasn’t given a chance to.
The man looked over at them sharply, pinning them in place with a sly smile. "So, dear Pope, dear Cardinals, I’m a demigod, and I want you to do better to make Nohl great again."
There was a long pause. No one reacted to Dominic’s grand proclamation.
Typical. It was always like this with mortals. Always needing to constantly prove himself because they were so paranoid.
If a god-king came to the gods and said, "Hey, I’m a god-king," they would probably believe him. That was because of their inherent trust—and the fact that no insane person would dare imitate a god-king, after all, such a person would be thrown into the Soul Eater Battleground immediately, where they’d face countless challenges. Imitating a god-king would bring nothing but troubles. But he digressed.
The gods were more trusting than humans, which was ironic. You’d think that power breeds distrust, but that was only to a certain extent—overwhelming power and responsibilities leave no time for politics or backstabbing.
The gods had no choice but to work together for their mutual survival. After all, there were more than enough universes to go around, and it would be easier to claim a dozen more empty ones than to try and wrest away someone else’s. If aligning his divinity and collecting karma in an empty universe was hard, that was nothing compared to the effort it would take to do so with another god in active opposition or trying to do the same.
Only rogue gods would even bother—the sort who only wanted to do it because it was hard, rather than for any material or spiritual gain—and most of those were destroyed relatively quickly. When the Soul Eaters came for them, they’d be faced with a losing battle and no allies. So, really, basic survival tactics ensured the trustworthy and cooperative gods were the only ones who lasted long enough to become truly powerful.
It was cute to see humans so distrustful, like tiny puppies cautiously hissing at the hands of much bigger humans who could crush them in an instant.
"Now then," Dominic said, "let me prove that I am a demigod. Open your statuses, gentlemen."
Then he paused. Gabrielle, should I really strengthen these people with my own holy power, or could you manipulate their statuses to temporarily show a title?
Gabrielle responded instantly.
Anything for you, Mister Dominic. Of course, I can manipulate their statuses to show a temporary title. I don’t have enough power to bypass the world’s system without a major patch and actually strengthen people unreasonably, but just giving them the illusion that they’ve been strengthened? That’s something I’m really good at.
( ? ?ω?? )?
Why are you good at that? Dominic asked, curious.
Gabrielle didn’t respond, making him grin confusedly and wave his hand.
A second later, the Pope and Cardinals' eyes widened in shock.
Pope Lathan stared at the client with immense confusion. What is happening right now?
The clients teleported back within a minute, and as if that wasn’t surprising enough, they were claiming that their task with the saintess had been completed. And apparently, one of them was a demigod.
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Is this man insane? An illegitimate sibling of King Nohl who has escaped from the palace’s asylum? Is that why he has access to so much gold and a teleportation artifact?
If anyone would have a teleportation artifact, it would be King Nohl, after all.
A second passed, and suddenly a bright red status screen appeared before the Pope.
Emergency: You are in front of an unmeasurable being. Revealing status. You have been blessed by the demigod. You have gained the title "Demigod’s Chosen (Temporary).”
And then the title expanded by itself, showing its description.
Description:
The Unknown Son of the Goddess. This demigod seeks to save the world from an unknown evil. You have been temporarily selected to be apostles for this demigod. Follow him, or face hell.
The Pope stared at the status screens with wide, blank eyes.
Mister Dominic, why don’t you read out their sins?
I have a list right here, all you have to do is give them a pressuring speech. The thing with humans is, you need the stick and the carrot, right? I’ve given them the carrot and the proof. Now, if you wave the stick, they’ll be faithful followers.
Make them true little puppies, as you call them in your mind.
? ???(? ?? ? - ? ) ? ??? ??
Dominic chuckled. Gabrielle, you mischievous genius.
The list of sins appeared in front of him in an instant. He raised an eyebrow. Woah. These three were quite the scoundrels, weren’t they? They had killed quite a few people.
Right, that was something he had been wondering about—should he revive the dead in this world? Maybe not here; it would mess with Gabrielle’s system. But he could revive those who died and ‘wanted’ to live, first in another world for testing purposes—or just to craft a perfect world for himself, his very own utopia from the ground—an empty world, ideally, and let them live there.
Being dead was a pain, after all. He had great sympathy and empathy for the dead. He’d know—he’d died multiple times and entered Tartarus. He didn’t know if the people of this Universe entered the Common Tartarus System or had their own system, but still. The core process should be just as annoying.
Not that Tartarus was… bad, really. It was… eccentric. The god of death was jovial, but also quite crazy and incomprehensible.
Dominic certainly didn’t want to deal with that dragon of a man again.
Well, at least not now. Maybe a few hundred thousand years from now he could meet that old scrooge again, once he’d grown a bit more resilient to the constant blabbering elders enjoyed subjecting him to. Even his master did to some extent, though he’d developed a lot more immunity to his master’s ‘wittiness’ over the years.
Maybe even have another tea-time chat, let the god of death reminisce about the good old days, when everything was better. The times before those damn systems came into place. You know, the systems that allowed them to defeat the soul eaters and spared the Universe from descending into anarchy. Then again, as the god of Tartarus, perhaps he did want the world to fall into chaos, with every living being under his domain of control except for the Soul Eaters.
Even the Soul Eaters wouldn’t casually dare eat the fragments of his Universe, after all. That took a special kind of crazy that even the Soul Eaters weren’t.
It shouldn’t be surprising that Dominic, vanquisher of Soul Eaters, was exactly that kind of crazy. It’s why that old man was so fascinated with him.
But, again, he digressed. He’d really gotten used to having a lot of time to think between doing anything, hadn’t he? With Calvin’s dedication, he’d been left with little else to do to pass the time.
Dominic shifted his attention back toward the Pope and the Cardinals. That should be enough time for them to all read their updated status.
In a solemn tone, he boomed, "You sinners have committed many, many mistakes."
He fixed his gaze on the Pope, whose face turned even more pale as if he were seconds away from fainting, his entire body trembling. "You, Pope," he said, his voice deepening, "have not only killed five people, but have also embezzled vast sums of money.”
Though, he was not sure if it should technically be called embezzling, given that the funds came as an indirect bribe from the king. But technically, it was money that the Pope was ‘supposed’ to use for the citizens, even if the King implied that he shouldn’t, that the church mustn’t gain more power in the eyes of the people.
“And let’s not forget the countless other sins you’ve committed—sins that may not have directly led to death but have caused immense suffering."
He paused, narrowing his eyes. “The wife you abandoned, the one you ended up goading to death," his gaze pierced the Pope's eyes, making the man gasp for air. "Annabelle, wasn’t it? I feel nothing but disgust for you, when I imagine how that poor woman must have felt. When I remember the twisted joy you had gained from the act. Truly, for someone who calls themselves a leader of a religion—someone who should be striving to right the world, someone who’s supposed to spread the gospel of love and light—to commit such heinous acts…" Dominic’s face twisted into a frown of genuine revulsion. "You deserve nothing but death."
He turned his attention to the three Cardinals. "Should I begin listing your sins? Multiple murders. One of you has assaulted several women. Not to mention the countless bribes you’ve received from the king, the cruelty you’ve shown toward the homeless and weaker members of society, all to create both a slave class and to empower the upper classes."
He paused, his voice steady but unforgiving. "Truly, all three of you should rot in the deepest pits of Tartarus."
One of the Cardinals pissed himself. Dominic could smell it before he even saw the liquid spreading across the floor. Dominic was far too old to be bothered by something so trivial—but he did find it amusing. He hadn’t even used his power to scar their souls or torture them, and they were already so afraid, so terrified. These humans were truly like innocent puppies in comparison to what he was generally used to dealing with.
He dissipated the hatred in his tone slightly, though the sternness remained. He looked at them, not with disgust, but with a heavy, disappointed gaze.
It was true that by Tartarus’ standards, they would deserve hell. Maybe not the deepest pits, nowhere close—those pits were reserved for some truly special beings, beings he’d had the displeasure of meeting. Compared to them, the Pope and the Cardinals were true saints. Technically speaking, killing them wouldn’t be wrong. It could even be considered as ‘just’, as the right path to take.
However, he was here for good karma, and killing them would not give him good karma. It would be bad karma, no matter how many sins they had committed, no matter how he tried to frame it. Reforming them—especially when he had the power to do so—was the right choice, here.
"But all is not lost," Dominic declared. "You sinners have a chance to redeem yourselves. Help me. Help the saintess who seeks to right the wrongs you have committed. Help this world. Use these funds I’ve given you to aid the people who need it. Actually do your duty."
Text suddenly popped up in front of him, Gabrielle taking his attention away from his speech.
Mister Dominic, I believe the king knows these three have betrayed him. It seems he has the special domain ability, “Allegiance”, which has alerted him you’ve successfully shifted their allegiance. He knows who his core ‘citizens’—or at least, the ones he’s elected as core citizens—are loyal to. Right now, the king is heading to the church. He should be here any second!
(?﹏?//)
over there at the moment, if you want to help support me!) let's keep the momentum going!