A Good Thrashing is the Best Medicine

Pope Angelo III, ensnared by a mental demon, fell into corruption in the blink of an eye. He was already avaricious and pathologically suspicious by nature, and with the awakening of the Main God Justia threatening to undermine his authority, his mind was riddled with cracks waiting to be exploited. It was almost laughably easy; feed him a tiny scrap of information, and he would warp it to fit his own delusions. There was absolutely no need for complex schemes like curses or brainwashing.

Even as he corrupted the Pope, Eligos had never once explicitly claimed to be the Main God Justia. The Pope had simply jumped to conclusions, mistaking the "voice" echoing in his head—which Eligos was actually transmitting through a terminal—for that of his true deity. This misunderstanding allowed Eligos to pull the Pope's strings effortlessly while masquerading as Justia.

Meanwhile, once the Pope began to perceive Eligos as the Main God Justia, his sheer initiative became downright terrifying. First, the moment he realized the slumbering deity did not react to ordinary noise, he promptly relocated his quarters. That wasn't all. He went so far as to erect a massive barrier around the entire Papal Palace—though calling it a "barrier" was a polite euphemism; for all intents and purposes, it was a seal.

A devout follower of Justia had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠seized the opportunity of his deity's slumber to slap a seal on her. Of course, from the perspective of the Pope—who was utterly convinced that the sleeping entity was a blasphemous imposter—it was a perfectly rational decision. Objectively speaking, however, it was a catastrophic blunder that essentially tightened a noose around his own neck.

Eligos decided to exploit the Pope's fanatical drive even further. Feeding the delusions of a man who implicitly trusted the voice in his head, Eligos leaked a crucial piece of false information: The true Main God Justia is currently imprisoned by an imposter somewhere on the remote fringes of the continent.

If the true deity, currently trapped in some far-flung corner of the world, could be brought back to the Holy City, she would personally strike down the imposter sleeping in the Papal Palace. Angelo III would then go down in history as the heroic Pope who overcame a monumental crisis and ushered in the Second Coming. To sweeten the deal, the "deity" promised that if he successfully navigated this crisis, his past sin of forging the scriptures would be completely absolved.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Angelo III wept ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tears of profound gratitude and swore his absolute loyalty and devotion. With that, he unwittingly reduced himself to a mere puppet of Eligos. Through the awakening of the Main God Justia, Eligos had secured the ultimate leverage to seize control of the entire Central Church.

Yet, not everything was proceeding flawlessly. There remained one glaring variable: the true "imposter"—the other half of Justia, who had begun moving the very moment the Main God awakened. Even now, the demons of Pandemonium were scouring every corner of the continent for any trace of this other half. Thus far, their efforts had yielded nothing.

The only lead they had managed to dig up was that several Divine Weapons scattered across the Holy Kingdom had been stolen, along with the Original Scriptures. They could only surmise that the other half was planning something with them. As far as Eligos knew, a Divine Weapon was merely a slightly unique sacred relic. It was highly probable that the other half was consuming them to reclaim the divine energy sealed inside.

As for the Original Scriptures... Eligos couldn't care less, and Angelo III seemed to secretly hope they would never be found. Regardless, the only thing that truly mattered was pinpointing the exact location of Justia's other half and eliminating her once and for all. If Eligos's theory about the stolen Divine Weapons was correct, it meant the other half of the Goddess had yet to fully restore her power. This made now the absolute best time to strike.

According to what Angelo III had shared, the scriptures contained a prophecy: the split goddess would achieve ultimate perfection once her two halves became one again. The current state of affairs aligned perfectly with that ancient text. Yet, a prophecy was not an absolute destiny. It was merely one possible future if events were left to run their course. And if one already knew what lay ahead, the threads of causality leading to that future could easily be severed and rewoven.

Indeed, the high priests of the ancient Central Church had expunged the prophecy of the split goddess from the public scriptures—their own way of trying to avert that potential future. Currently, one half of Justia lay sealed in a deep slumber, while the other half wandered the continent, starved of her full power. It was the perfect opportunity to eliminate Justia and shatter the prophecy forever. If they played their cards right, they could finally achieve the grand ambition they had harbored for centuries.

Pandemonium's—or rather, Eligos's—ultimate goal was singular: to resurrect the ancient Demon King using the relics he had left behind, and to plunge the mortal realm into an abyss of endless terror and malice. The only reason he had founded Pandemonium in the first place was to use it as a stepping stone toward this grand design.

"What's going on? No, wait." Annie, who had followed him out, quickly grasped the situation.

"Judging by the direction, thankfully, they're coming from the inside," she said, her eyes tracking the same path as Yohan's.

"We'd better hope the ones coming from the outside like us haven't completely lost their marbles," Yohan muttered. "I hope those cathedral priests were telling the truth."

"Agreed."

"First off, let's keep the fight away from where the crowd is gathered." Yohan glanced back toward the cathedral.

"I'll draw him away. You stay here, and if things go south, be ready to evacuate everyone."

"Hey, wait. That's..." Annie frowned, instantly reading between the lines. "Luring" was just a polite way of saying he intended to face the corrupted Inquisitor entirely on his own.

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" Annie asked, her brow furrowed with concern. Yohan gave her a reassuring nod.

"I'll be fine. Besides, to be honest, I've been dying to know."

Just how strong was a Heresy Inquisitor? Up until now, Yohan had never gone head-to-head with one. Since he had gone to great lengths to keep the Nameless Village and the Goddess's followers hidden, they had managed to avoid drawing the Central Church's attention. But now, a prime opportunity to test his mettle against an Inquisitor had practically dropped into his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lap.

"Be careful," Annie warned. "I'm not saying this out of professional pride as a former Inquisitor. The Holy Kingdom's Heresy Inquisitors are genuinely formidable."

"Oh, I don't doubt it. I mean, look at you—you can turn a low-level devil into minced meat with your bare hands."

At Yohan's teasing remark, the tension finally melted from Annie's face, and her lips curved into a faint smile. She turned on her heel and headed back toward the cathedral.

"Understood. I'll leave him to you then, Boss."

"Hey, you cheeky..."

Seriously, his companions had taken to calling him "Boss" every chance they got lately, just to push his buttons. Well, now wasn't the time to grumble about minor annoyances. Watching Annie's retreating figure for a brief moment, Yohan turned back and unleashed the Apostle's Authority he had been keeping tightly suppressed.

Normally, Yohan ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠loathed flaunting his Apostle's Authority in public. It was the same reason he went to such lengths to conceal the village's location and maintained his alias as Pharmacist Martin. Here, however, there was no need to hold back. To the eyes of the Holy Kingdom's clergy, the divine power of his Apostle's Authority would look identical to their own Miracle Arts. Furthermore, with the Holy Kingdom's geopolitical influence practically reduced to ashes, there little point in hiding his identity anymore.

Whoosh!

A heavy, pressurized wind erupted from him, kicking up a sudden gale that swept through the ruins. He hadn't even unleashed his full power—just enough to catch the attention of the figure in the distance. Even so, the sheer pressure Yohan radiated was staggering by mortal standards. Any priest or Inquisitor capable of channeling Miracle Arts would feel it like a physical weight. In essence, Yohan was issuing a challenge, treating the corrupted Inquisitor exactly as he would a demon.

Crunch.

His boots ground over the shattered masonry of a collapsed building as he slowly advanced toward the corrupted Inquisitor. Soon, the distance between them shrank enough for them to make out each other's features. It was a gap Yohan could close in a heartbeat if he chose to channel his Apostle's Authority to boost his speed.

"Hey, hold it right there," Yohan called out.

According to the priests, the corrupted Inquisitors were supposed to be completely consumed by madness, acting like rabid beasts who threw punches long before they spoke.

"You are..."

Surprisingly, the corrupted Inquisitor didn't charge blindly. Instead, he spoke in a perfectly coherent, steady voice.

"A fellow brother of the Inquisition? No... that sword radiating such brilliant light... that should be the exclusive weapon of the Holy Knights."

This guy's cognitive faculties are way too intact for someone who's supposedly lost his mind.

Yohan remained silent.

A nagging suspicion crept into his mind. Perhaps the symptoms they had dismissed as simple insanity were actually something far more insidious. He already had a clue: that slogan, Divine judgment upon the false goddess.

What if this wasn't a curse that simply drove people into a mindless, rabid frenzy, but rather one that subtly warped their cognitive baseline, twisting their core beliefs without them ever realizing it?

"Yeah. I'm an Inquisitor," Yohan said, reaching into his coat to pull out a Heresy Inquisitor's identification token.

The corrupted Inquisitor recognized the token and nodded slowly.

"Indeed... I can feel a truly staggering presence radiating from you."

The corrupted Inquisitor suddenly bowed, showing formal respect. He seemed to have mistaken Yohan for a highly esteemed senior Inquisitor.

"I am Thomas, a Heresy Inquisitor of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. Brother, what brings you to these ruins?"

His cognitive faculties were undeniably intact. He was perfectly capable of rational dialogue.

Yet, Yohan couldn't let his guard down. He could feel an incredibly ominous aura radiating from Thomas's entire body. Normally, an Inquisitor capable of channeling Miracle Arts would naturally emit a clean, sacred energy. But the aura clinging to Thomas was entirely different from any holy power Yohan had ever encountered. To be precise... it felt like a grotesque, inverted mirror image of Justia's divinity.

I knew it. Yohan's suspicions were confirmed.

"I shall ask you once more," Thomas said, his hand dropping to the mace at his hip. He drew the weapon and leveled its heavy tip directly at Yohan.

"For what reason does a brother of the cloth radiate such a deeply sinister energy?"

"Unbelievable," Yohan muttered, scratching his head. How the hell do I deal with this guy?

"Answer me. If you refuse to speak, or if you attempt any trickery..."

Flash!

In an instant, Thomas unleashed his full aura, sending a shockwave of pressure outward.

Because gods and demons shared a fundamentally identical origin, they were, in essence, mirror images of one another. Yohan clicked his tongue as he felt the suffocating, malicious pressure rolling off Thomas. Conversely, Thomas's face contorted in sheer fury as he perceived the pure, divine light emanating from Yohan.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just take a punch first. Maybe that'll knock some sense back into you."

"Then words are useless..."

He had confirmed that the madness plaguing the Holy Kingdom wasn't a simple curse that turned people into mindless beasts. That meant Yohan's task was remarkably straightforward: beat the living daylights out of this delusional Inquisitor until his head cleared.

After all, since time immemorial, a good thrashing had always been the best medicine.