Chapter 48
Chapter 48
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 48
Chapter Title: Setting the Terms
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"Did you say quarrel?"
Such words flowed from the Pope.
"There must be something that displeases you. Would you care to share?"
Followed by those remarks.
His demeanor was eerily calm.
As if the current situation had absolutely nothing to do with him.
"..."
Well, whatever.
This was just a situation where I needed to deliver my piece.
With a smirk, I jerked my chin toward Klein sprawled on the floor.
"For starters, could you stop sending trash like this to harass the Saint? Clean up from the top if you want the bottom to follow suit. Your side keeps having filthy thoughts, so your underlings run around like rabid dogs off the leash."
The mouths of those around us gaped open once more.
It was hardly fitting language for addressing one of the continent's most powerful figures.
"And there's that item you're desperately searching for right now, isn't there?"
Yuria's sword. The Holy Empire's national treasure.
"I'll take that. Don't bother looking for it. Or things will get messy."
My immediate goal was to deal with that thing producing the Curse of Severance somehow. Four days left. That was the practical key to clearing Chapter 2.
And to do that, I first had to stop this guy from rushing to retrieve it.
"...Appreciated, your advice."
To his voice flowing out evenly once more.
"Your Holiness."
I chuckled and continued.
"This isn't advice."
"..."
Truth be told, everyone present—worthy enough to attend alongside the Pope—were mostly seasoned veterans who had proven their mettle through trials.
And the uniform reaction from all these people was the same.
Stunned silence.
"What in the world is this outrage!"
I eyed the man spitting furious words laced with incredulity.
An elderly priest, likely the Pope's advisor.
"I heard you were the ones who started the quarrel in the first place! A duel is a legitimate procedure by mutual consent, so no issue there, but this atrocity! The Holy Empire will never overlook it!"
"So?"
My leisurely response made the old priest's jaw drop.
"...What?"
"What if you don't overlook it? Gonna kill me or something?"
"..."
The old priest began trembling, mouth still agape.
He might look somewhat benign at rest, but with his face flushed beet red and beard quivering, it meant nothing.
"To think you'd put a thug like this in a duel! Are the Tristan Ducal House and the Imperial Family both insane!"
"If they're insane, doesn't that make your side worse?"
That wasn't from me.
A man who had been silently observing from nearby stood and spoke.
His body was covered in muscles and scars reminiscent of ancient weathered rock. His attire and appearance were straight out of the stereotype of a savage warrior.
"We let that Saint girl or whatever get bullied because it was none of our business. Family matters and all."
His drawling voice continued.
"But the tribal alliance already knows what that kid's about. How important she is. Sending a trained soldier against someone not even badged as a warrior yet? Shady intentions from the start, you lot."
The warrior smirked as he said it.
"But if you lost even after showing all your cards, shut your mouths. What he's doing now is the winner's rightful privilege, as far as I see."
A wry smile crept up inside me.
'...As expected.'
I'd anticipated someone would back me up if I openly picked a fight with the Pope's side like this. That's why I'd done it.
But the 'importance' this man mentioned had just formed after witnessing me wield demonic power penalty-free.
He's taking my side because of that.
"..."
In other words.
From now on, I was 'prey' eyed by the Imperial Family and tribal alliance chiefs alike.
Trouble was inevitable.
As I mulled over that bitter thought, the old priest hurled words at him.
"Mind your tongue! His Holiness's safety is at stake!"
"What about it, old man? Echoing that kid's words right back at you. Gonna kill me or what?"
The old priest clamped his mouth shut.
Not from anger this time, but because he'd read the killing intent in Hatan's eyes.
Even those not targeted paled at the aura.
"The Great Chieftain can't order me around either. Foreigners? Less my problem. Got it?"
"..."
It was a diplomatic disaster on par with mine, if not worse, yet the priest stayed silent. The Pope said nothing.
'...Ha.'
I could guess why.
I counted the tattoos near his neck. Tribal warriors tattoo fangs for each monster they've solo-hunted.
'Ten.'
And the 'monsters' tribal hunters called that were drake or basilisk class.
Not quite on par with dragonkin or the Four Asian Gods, but beasts that could unleash calamity if one got loose.
In short.
This man had soloed ten such beasts that even Imperial Knight Order captains wouldn't dare face alone.
An achievement even luminaries like Gideon or Atalante couldn't match in that field.
"..."
I knew who he was.
Hatan U-Jul.
Chieftain of the 'Blue Dragon' clan in the tribal alliance, the world's top monster hunter. A frequent antagonist in Chapter 3.
He also held a professorship at the 'Crucible of Struggle,' an institution rivaling Elpante in prestige.
With credentials like that dangling, even his thuggish antics could slide.
More like, no one wanted to poke the mad dog.
"And you."
Then that madman's gaze slid toward me.
"You're quite to my liking. Even setting aside that eerie power, you've got the makings of a fine warrior."
[ Skill: Fatal Charm activates. ]
[ The villain takes a liking to your boldness! ]
[ Reward added to Gift tab! ]
"..."
Hm.
Madmen beget mad acts, and approval follows swiftly.
"...Thank you."
As I said that to the ferociously grinning Hatan, a reply came.
"Come visit the Crucible of Struggle sometime. I'll treat you well."
With those words, an ornament flew my way.
A simple accessory resembling a dreamcatcher. But my eyes widened upon receiving it.
[ Lion's Necklace ] [ Accessory ]
[ Grade: Rare ]
[ Necklace awarded to promising warriors in the tribal alliance. Increases physical vitality when worn. Also boosts efficiency of physical training through exercise. ]
'He's giving this already?'
Rare grade might sound modest, but me—an Imperial—receiving it signified much.
The tribal alliance was the most conservative among great powers regarding internal customs. Handing this to a foreigner was normally unthinkable.
You had to grovel and win Hatan's favor to get it, but Fatal Charm triggered, and I snagged it on the spot.
'...Insane gain.'
No immediate big effects, but it could derail an entire branch in Chapter 3's 'Academy Exchange Event.'
It was an essential condition to save a character doomed to die there.
In other words.
The key to saving what Lilu Garda stakes her life to protect in that chapter—I could do it instead.
"Settle it yourselves. I've seen enough entertainment. I'm out."
As those thoughts swirled, Hatan yawned those words and left.
Onlookers stared like he was some freak, but he paid no mind.
"..."
Yeah. That's his vibe.
Unpredictable wild man. Always marching to his own beat.
But thanks to his whirlwind intervention, no one dared challenge my words now. All eyes waited on the Pope's response.
With a sigh, I glanced at the silhouette faintly visible through the canopy.
Despite everything, he showed no real reaction.
Just silently glaring at me.
Even now, this guy.
Remained utterly emotionless, calmly scanning me from head to toe.
"Understood."
Then, those words flowed smoothly from the Pope.
"It wasn't a bet duel, but granting that much is no trouble. Do as you wish."
Eyes bulged all around.
He was accepting the demands of the man who'd just committed such an outrage.
Publicly, no less. He was taking responsibility.
From now on, he'd leave Lucien and Yuria alone, and forfeit the Holy Empire's national treasure with her.
He could scheme behind the scenes, sure, but publicly declaring it versus not was worlds apart.
"Your Holiness!"
The advisor whirled in panic, but the Pope continued smoothly.
"This is correct, Advisor."
"But...!"
"I said this is correct."
The old priest shut his mouth instantly.
He'd caught the faint anger threading that hitherto even voice.
"..."
I smirked.
This guy wasn't conceding gracefully.
He was suppressing the urge to tear me apart right then.
"...You're a truly cunning one. I'll acknowledge that."
Even saying that much made it a bit disappointing for me.
Would've been better if he'd thrown a tantrum and rejected it.
Then.
I could've extracted more.
-!
The next instant, light descended from the canopy.
The beam enveloped Klein's twitching form on the floor.
Blessing of Teleportation.
Sending him back to headquarters, no doubt.
"...Teleport to headquarters? From this distance?"
"I've heard the name Pope, but...!"
Incredulous murmurs rose nearby.
Fair enough.
The Holy Empire's headquarters to Elpante was thousands of kilometers at least.
One-shot teleporting a person that far? Incredible.
Especially with spatial transfer via divine power—supremely difficult.
A miracle worthy of summoning dragonkin.
'...Monster bastard.'
Users half-jokingly called him a 'human-shaped demon.'
Twisted personality aside, his personal prowess rivaled demons.
The title 'strongest priest in history' wasn't for show.
"...Until next time, Dawood Campbell."
He intoned my name precisely.
As if committing it to memory.
"We will surely meet again."
With that.
The Pope's hologram vanished from Elpante.
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Deep within the Holy Empire's headquarters, in its innermost chamber.
Pope Credo Baor II wiped his face, still smiling.
As the light from the scepter beside his chair faded, he spoke calmly.
"Serath."
At his call, the woman waiting silently offered a goblet.
Adorned with holy symbols befitting headquarters, yet paradoxically filled with pitch-black liquid radiating blatant irreverence.
"..."
The Pope downed it quietly and exhaled deeply.
Divine power beyond mortal limits was a double-edged sword. Mishandle it even slightly, and the body couldn't endure.
To purge residual energy, he always carried such things.
Someone surely suffered to make it. Maybe sacrificed their life.
But he didn't care.
'...At least until the goal is achieved.'
He'd do anything.
Until completing the 'great undertaking' he'd devoted his life to.
His next order fit that vein.
"Dispose of the teleported battle priest in the Chimera Project. He'll make a useful battery."
No need for failures.
High battle priests were expendable at this level.
"Yes. We'll announce he perished during treatment."
Serath, so named, bowed silently in assent.
Unlike usual, she didn't move immediately, tilting the Pope's head.
"Serath? Something wrong?"
"...May I ask a question?"
"Go ahead."
No big deal.
From someone who obeyed like a doll, a question was novel.
"Why did Your Holiness acquiesce to that man's demands?"
"...Ah, the Grayhauncher sisters' matter?"
The Pope gave a wry smile.
Sure, readily granting a brazen thug's requests looked odd to anyone.
But.
"I was being blackmailed. No choice."
"...Pardon?"
Serath blinked blankly.
Blackmailed?
Hadn't they seized the initiative against that Dawood by committing such acts?
The Pope's authority made it obvious.
"You know his 'position,' Serath."
But the Pope sighed and continued.
"The Empire, tribal alliance, and us. We already knew he had some tie to the 'demons.' And we saw him wield a portion of that power flawlessly in the duel."
That alone elevated Dawood Campbell to an irreplaceable status.
No one in history had done such a thing.
The tribal chieftain backing him was partly aligned temperaments, but that fact weighed heavily.
And the moment he declared it publicly, he charged straight at me.
"The instant he openly challenged me, he 'showed' everyone some uncomfortable connection between us. That's his win."
"...Pardon?"
"Once others know he's at odds with me, anything happening to him falls squarely on me and the Holy Empire."
Serath blinked, then hardened her expression, meeting the Pope's gaze.
The Pope wryly smiled again.
Yes. She got it now.
"If harm befalls Dawood Campbell, the alliance and Empire will suspect us first. They'll use it as pretext for every scheme and absurd demand imaginable."
"But we would never...!"
"Facts don't matter."
The Pope's voice lowered.
"International society runs on power logic. With balances even, truth is irrelevant—you can pin blame on the opponent. In that light, Dawood Campbell's status is a potent pretext. He showcased his value in this duel, making everyone prize him."
And as a result.
"...Deploy some intelligence and operative personnel near Dawood Campbell. We must protect him."
The Holy Empire.
Had to safeguard the very Dawood Campbell who'd openly defied them.
The moment something happened to him, the Empire and alliance would leverage it to crush the Holy Empire.
That's the blackmail. Pressuring him now would only let him steer the whole mess to his advantage.
"...Then, Your Holiness."
Serath's voice trembled slightly.
"Don't tell me... your personal attendance at Elpante was at his request too?"
"Precisely."
The Pope smiled coldly.
"Planned from the start. He knew it'd play out like this."
"..."
Serath gaped, speechless. Goosebumps prickled her arms.
The absurd duel request. Charging the Pope like a mad dog right after.
Every seeming madcap act hid ironclad calculation.
All this.
From one student.
Against one of the continent's strongest heads of state.
A single student had perfectly outmaneuvered a man who could rock the continent with a word.
The Pope sighed quietly.
This feeling—he'd sensed it before.
'...He resembles that one.'
That 'sudden strengthening' despite weakness. The overall aura.
Uncannily like the most chilling, loathsome 'thing' he'd encountered.
"We'll meet again, one side or the other."
Perhaps those two as well.
Might cross paths soon. It felt that way.
The Pope sighed, wiping his face.
Expression impassive, eyes still fiercely alight.
'Dawood Campbell.'
That name.
He vowed never to forget.
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