Forget the Customs (4)

Isaac strode into the Pope's chamber like some wealthy magnate inspecting his own estate.

Whisper spoke up, sounding worried on his behalf.

Isaac snorted at that.

Did Whisper really think he'd handed over the God of Wealth and the Holy Spirits for nothing?

'Shuri's stronger than he looks.'

He was, yes. A priest whose toughness had been forged by the undead — no, by the unbreakable. Growing up taking blows meant his durability was, in a sense, the finest in all of Blue.

'And against that kind of durability, Kina's fists — disarmed of her weapon — are nothing but fists made of water.'

Granted, without the God of Wealth backing him, Shuri might have been in genuine danger. But well.

'Kukukuk. The God of Wealth is about to have a very bad day.'

Did anyone have any idea how much effort it had taken to seduce that god to his side?

Isaac had spent literal years converting the God of Wealth. Step one: confine him in the Crown Prince's garden — no, graciously host him there — and feed him the treasures he so dearly loved.

And just like that, the God of Wealth had summoned every last one of his disciples. They set up shop in the Crown Prince's garden and diligently farmed the land, multiplying its treasures.

Then, once Isaac had fattened them all up and let them put down roots nice and deep, he bound every one of them and made his demand.

And so the God of Wealth, whimpering and sobbing, did exactly as Isaac commanded. The Crown Prince — the very person who had handed over the garden in the first place — watched the whole spectacle and nodded, as if something had finally made sense to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him.

Anyway. Kina would be dealt with by Shuri.

"Me? I only need to clean out this."

Isaac's eyes settled on the great statue erected at the center of the chamber. Sharp, severe features radiating an imperious, domineering air — the bearing of a sovereign who dwarfed even the Emperor himself.

Saint Sylvester.

Among Popes, only those of singular excellence were honored with the title of sainthood — a Saint placed before their names as proof.

And Sylvester had been the Pope of several centuries past, living in the age of the Skeleton Demon King. With the longest reign of any Pope in history, he was, naturally, the one Isaac had seen the most of back in those days.

'Though honestly, every single one of those Popes fought me dirty enough to show me plenty they'd rather I hadn't seen.'

But there was a separate, particular reason Isaac glared at this one and gritted his teeth.

Even after hundreds of years, the memory remained vivid.

The very day he was supposed to meet her — the day he'd made his promise to Ines, who had all but won the people over. The execution had been carried out in Delos, the land where the True Demons had dwelled.

By the time Isaac reached Delos, it was already over. All that was left for him to see was Ines's head, mounted upon the city walls.

Sylvester had made a show of it — beheading the Saintess and leaving her corpse as feed for the beasts.

Well, back then he'd been a skeleton. He'd seen her head and felt nothing at all. But now that he was human…

Isaac, having drifted into the past for a moment, let out a long, heavy sigh.

"Turns out there's exactly one downside to becoming human. It makes you feel the emotions you never wanted to feel."

Anyway, that son of a bitch Sylvester's genes must have been potent. Every last one of his descendants wore a face cut from the same ugly cloth. Seriously.

'Makes me want to torment every generation of them to the bone. Puhhuhuhu.'

Well, at least the resemblance stopped at the Gold Cardinal — a pair of identical fish cakes off the same griddle — and Kina, mercifully, took after someone else.

The moment Isaac glowered at the statue, Whisper — who had been snickering away — suddenly went rigid with alarm.

Excuse me?

The reaction was pure just how insane are you, but Isaac only flicked his ear in dismissal.

'What's gotten into you? It's the Pope's statue, after all. I'm not completely thoughtless.'

CRASH!!!!

At a flick of Isaac's hand, the statue came tumbling down in a heap of rubble.

'I left the face intact, didn't I?'

Isaac couldn't have cared less. He ran his fingers along a seam in the statue's base — and a hidden door slid open.

The moment he spotted what lay inside, Isaac's lips curled into a wide grin.

"Knew it would be here."

Instead of answering, Isaac opened the box he'd drawn from within.

Nestled inside was a necklace of unusual make.

'Indeed. And it appears to be serving as one of the anchors of the Verite Territory's barrier at the moment.'

Like the Emperor's crown, the Pope's Stigma was not an heirloom passed down through generations.

It was a sacred relic granted directly by God upon one's ordination, conferred with divine approval on that day alone.

'Simply put, it's a soulbound item.'

A personal artifact, unique to each Pope. And precisely because of that, anyone but its rightful owner would suffer a violent rejection upon touching it.

What did that mean?

'It means if the current Pope is a fake, he can't actually use a Stigma.'

'Obviously a fake, then.'

'Well, "fake" doesn't mean cheap knockoff. How could some mere mortal replicate a genuine divine relic that perfectly?'

Isaac casually turned the Stigma over. On its reverse, a name was engraved.

Seeing that name, Isaac smiled a knowing, satisfied smile.

'Called it.'

Whisper nearly jumped out of its ethereal skin.

'Why do you think? The Pope's brother was ordained first — the accident came after. Naturally, he'd have received a Stigma of his own.'

'But the younger brother wasn't the chosen one. If he tried to wear it, it would reject him outright. So he stashed it away here.'

'What do you think? This statue's owner's.'

Isaac smiled a fox's smile, positively loathsome about it.

'Sylvester's Stigma can be worn by anyone.'

'Because I watched it happen myself.'

'And besides — why on earth would a Pope wear his ancestor's relic instead of his own? It's a screaming confession that he's a fraud.'

'Because I was pissed. Tell him to go slap some faces about it.'

'Physical exertion isn't my thing. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠That's work for priests — the kind whose muscles extend all the way to their brains.'

Well, it did kill two birds with one stone.

Once Grandfather had the Pope pinned down, he could simply verify everything with this.

'If I bring this to the man himself, it'll reject him.'

And what would happen if he displayed a Stigma rejecting its bearer in front of everyone?

'Exactly. And once Grandfather strips Sylvester's Stigma away…'

'Are you insane?'

'I'm going to quietly swap it with a fake.'

Why did he think he'd gone to all the trouble of bringing a dragon along?

'Right! A dragon of that caliber could certainly forge a replica!'

'Make it, she will! I'm going to seduce her with a marriage proposal!'

'I'll bury him for good — forgery on top of everything else, all the way to the grave!'

'As long as I don't get caught, who cares! And if I do get caught, I'll just say the Supreme God ordered me to!'

'What was that, you little punk?'

Whisper muttered as much, but Isaac paid it no mind, grinning wickedly to himself.

'With Sylvester's Stigma in hand, I don't need to become Pope to wield the Pope's power.'

A Stigma anyone could wear meant one that he could wear, too.

And with it, he could reach the God Realm itself. Summon gods. Siphon away the Pope's treasures and trinkets, one and all.

'Why, summoning the god that awakens Saintesses would be perfectly possible, too.'

'Any god that feeds on living sacrifices can't be some dignified Upper God. So I'll beat it within an inch of its life, tame it, and then make it eat nothing but what I serve.'

"Hm? No. Every last one who defies me gets thrown into the pit."

Whisper fell silent.

"The imperial family's already in the palm of my hand. What's the problem? I'll show you what a reign of terror really looks like."

…Was this country actually going to be okay?

He really was going to become Pope, wasn't he? Divine punishment not incoming, right?

And then, just then—

Isaac abruptly snapped his gaze to the side.

"Oh, it's over."

"The fights. Both Shuri's and Grandfather's."

"Shuri, well — that went exactly as expected. As for Grandfather…"