Beneath the Vatican Obelisk

The walls of the Vatican stood firm.

Sustained by the prayers of the Saintess and a hundred thousand devout believers, this barrier could shield the holy ground from ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠every threat that rose outside it.

That was why Vatican City kept no standing army of its own. Following the scripture's teaching—protect the weak, aid the afflicted, battle evil—the Holy Knights fought monsters in Africa and Russia instead.

What remained to guard the Holy See were only a handful of Holy Knights assigned to the Saintess's safety and a police force for public order. Against an A-rank gate, that was nowhere near enough time.

"We have to abandon the Vatican."

So when that suggestion surfaced in the hastily convened command meeting, it was, in a way, the only natural thing to say.

One hour until the gate break. Far too little time for any army to arrive.

Spending the elite Holy Knights in front of an A-rank gate would have been a catastrophically irrational decision.

Unfortunately, even the Sword Saint's presence was of limited help in this situation.

With a body wrecked by the Siberia War, fighting for more than a minute was impossible.

Even the Saintess's miracle—said to save anyone so long as they still drew breath—could only stretch a life by a year at a time. With no combat endurance to speak of, the only thing I could do was protect the Saintess.

"The Vatican's barrier is an excellent shield. If we seal every gate and lock down the interior, I believe the barrier can hold the monsters inside until the army arrives."

"I agree with that in principle, but we cannot finish evacuating everyone inside within an hour. There will absolutely be casualties!"

"Is it not possible to cut the gate open the way the Siberia Gate was cut?"

Amid the flood of opinions, one officer's gaze found me. Standing beside the Saintess and watching the meeting unfold, I answered without much expression.

"It's not impossible. But the damage would be catastrophic… Are you sure that's acceptable?"

"What is the precise projected damage radius?"

"All of Vatican City. The barrier surrounding the Vatican would be completely destroyed… and Rome itself would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be split in half, I expect. It is a sword that reaches the sky, after all."

Even as the Sword Saint, I could not simply shrink that range at will.

I had named it Sky Slash, but it was not a cut long enough to literally reach the heavens. The sky being severed was merely a side effect. Its true nature was the twisting of the world's principles themselves.

"…In that case, the result would be worse than abandoning the Vatican."

And so the conversation returned to square one. Time was running out, and no satisfactory response had emerged.

That was when a naval admiral stepped forward.

"If we are prepared to abandon the Vatican for a time anyway, what about indiscriminate shelling around the gate?"

"Shelling? Assembling a force configured for an A-rank gate assault within the time limit will be impossible."

"For ground forces, yes. But the battleship Roma and the Mediterranean Fleet, which completed their mission only days ago, are another matter. They finished resupply in Sicily yesterday and are already steaming up toward Rome."

A gate break does not mean the boss monster comes charging out at once.

The boss room usually sits at the deepest layer of a gate, and the elite monsters inhabit those depths as well. The physical distance to the entrance keeps them from emerging early.

So the opening phase of a gate break is a numbers game—pure volume. Against a simple swarm, modern human technology alone is more than enough to hold the line.

The reason no one rushed to decide was simple.

Fifteen twenty-inch mana cannons capable of collapsing cliffs and pulverizing mountains. He was proposing that we turn weapons of that absurd power on the very heart of the Vatican with our own hands.

"Won't the shells be blocked by the Vatican's barrier?"

"Ah—I can handle that."

Clara was the one who spoke up. Just as she could manipulate the barrier to let a smartphone function, the Saintess's authority could allow shells to pass through it.

Thanks to that, by the time roughly forty-five minutes remained, a plan had begun to take shape.

"Then… how long can naval guns hold back the opening wave?"

"I estimate about three hours. Can you evacuate every civilian inside the Vatican walls in that time?"

"Three hours should ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be roughly enough."

"Good. In that case, our air force will dispatch helicopter units to assist the evacuation as well."

Once the evacuation plan was more or less set, the officers seated around the room began rising one by one. Hands were extended to Clara and me as well, offering us a way out.

"Then we will escort Your Holiness and the Sword Saint. Please evacuate beyond the Vatican before the bombardment begins."

"Ah—yes…!"

I wasn't sure it was a good decision, but it did seem the best one available under the circumstances. So I offered no argument and followed the soldiers out of the meeting room.

Then, abruptly, Cardinal Veneto crossed my mind.

Cardinal Veneto ranked high enough to know I was the Sword Saint. So why hadn't he attended the meeting?

When I put the question to Clara, she answered as if it had only just occurred to her.

"Ah, Cardinal Veneto… He's probably uploading the Celestial Observatory's data, I would think."

"Uploading?"

"Yes. He left early to upload the important materials still stored there onto a separate server. If the Vatican is destroyed, the Celestial Observatory won't come through unscathed either."

Fair enough. Information on that Babel Tower, and other secrets known only to a tiny handful of World Government permanent members. Someone had to get them out.

"Cardinal Veneto's phone is an exception to the barrier, same as yours and mine, Unnie. Once we're withdrawing, I'll explain our plan to him."

And yet I couldn't shake the unease.

All that came out of an A-rank gate were strong monsters. There was no reason they would know the Celestial Observatory's location, much less deliberately target it. And even if they did, a man of cardinal rank would have more than enough skill to extract himself.

Still, something felt off. Maybe it was a sense of déjà vu rising from somewhere I couldn't name.

Gate breaks usually unfold gradually over a considerable stretch of time. Not like this—not bursting open without warning in the middle of a plaza inside a city-state as small as the Vatican.

And… I had seen a phenomenon like this once before.

The S-rank gate at the Northern Psychic Research Institute. The Tomb of the Knight King. A gate that erupted without any omen, and the flood of mobs that poured out beyond any control.

"Something's definitely wrong here…"

But I couldn't turn back to the plaza now. We had already put enough distance between us, and only about twenty minutes remained until the gate break.

Going back would mean walking straight into the battleship's bombardment. Fragile as this body was—skill with a sword or not—that would simply be suicide.

So I was about to follow Clara out of the Vatican and evacuate when—

Ding—!

A bright notification tone chimed, and a message from Cardinal Veneto appeared on both Clara's phone and mine.

Together with that message of unclear intent, Clara's and my steps—already set for evacuation—came to a halt.

The plaza of Vatican City is often described as being shaped like a key.

A circular square built around the structure known as the Vatican Obelisk, a rectangular Papal complex set a little lower, and the straight corridor linking those two spaces.

In my previous life, whenever I saw photos of this place—and today, when I saw it in person—it had always been packed with people. Looking at streets empty of a single soul felt strangely new.

"Right? I've never seen the plaza like this either… It's kind of amazing, Unnie."

"Haa…"

If that "newness" hadn't carried such an ominous meaning, I might have agreed with Clara.

The quiet Vatican plaza beneath a cloudy sky. Air trembling with foreboding, as if heralding some enormous disaster. And beneath it all, a slender girl wandering about as if nothing were wrong… looked far too precarious.

Less than three minutes remained until fire rained down on this entire city. I almost said something about her picnic-outing attitude, then held it back.

I knew she could get serious when it counted. And we needed Clara to open the Celestial Observatory.

"I get that it's interesting, but focus. Something clearly happened at the Celestial Observatory."

"Yeees~"

Even as she hummed the answer with a carefree little wave of a tilde, Clara's hand was already resting against the base of the obelisk.

"Papal biometric security code open. Saintess Clara."

While Clara approached the obelisk and did whatever she was doing, I stood still and sorted through the situation.

First… my sense that something was wrong had hit the mark again. After that message from Cardinal Veneto, all contact with him had gone dead.

Contact cut before the gate break had even started. That meant trouble inside the Celestial Observatory.

The problem began with the fact that Cardinal Veneto was at least a B-rank Awakener.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

B-rank Awakeners do not die easily. A B-rank Awakener is a being who has already taken one step past human limits into the realm of superhumans.

"Cardinal Veneto… he'll be all right, won't he?"

"Sorry. I can't say for certain."

That was why I couldn't simply agree. The only thing that can harm a B-rank Awakener is another Awakener… and an Awakener slipping into the Celestial Observatory was not a good situation by any measure.

"No—it'll be fine. I'll make sure of it…!"

"That's a good resolve."

So when Clara clenched her fists and made to step into the obelisk, I stopped her. I had seen, from earlier on, how hard she was trying to look bright.

Some people tremble when they're anxious. Some lean on others. And some hide it and force a cheerful face. Of those three types, the last ones break first.

In a hopeless situation, the person who shines brightly draws that much more attention and expectation.

When that crushing weight of expectation is laid on someone who was only barely holding it together by pretending to be fine, most of them cannot endure and shatter. The ones who don't shatter are simply still enduring.

"But when it's just the two of us, you don't have to force yourself to stay bright."

I lifted my hand and ruffled Clara's hair. After always being the one getting patted, doing the patting myself felt oddly strange.

Is that why Maria was always trying to hug me? I had that useless thought as I stepped in front of her.

This was a child who already carried the expectations of hundreds of millions of believers around the world. For the moments when it was just the two of us, I wanted to let her loosen a little.

"It's okay to show a weaker side here. You can lean on me a little."

Kuuuuuuung…

From far away came the thunder of massive naval guns. Factoring in a roughly one-minute time-to-target, the battleship Roma and the Mediterranean Fleet had already opened fire in advance.

Hurry inside, they seemed to urge—or we'll turn you into paste—as successive cannon reports shook the heart in my chest.

"This time, I'll handle all the rescuing. You focus on support. Got it?"

"…Yes!"

Clara's face as she answered was still tight with tension, but somehow it looked better than before. An honest expression has a charm all its own.

"Then—we're going in?"

So the moment the base of the obelisk opened, I leapt into the darkness without hesitation—

From within the dark, a chilling red light shot straight for my throat.