Ch.342342. Blasphemy (2)

So.

I was all confident about killing him quickly, but…

This guy is honestly a tough opponent.

“What on earth… is that?!”

Yuria stared at the Pope with eyes full of fear.

Reflecting on past memories, there’s certainly emotional fear, but it’s also because the scene unfolding before her eyes makes reality itself feel distant.

Currently in this bunker, it’s not just the Pope himself—other Holy Empire combat personnel continue to arrive as reinforcements, but these guys have too many flaws to be proper opponents for Yuria, Lucien, and me. Reaching the Pope himself isn’t particularly difficult.

Thanks to that, though we haven’t been fighting long, the number of fatal wounds inflicted on that guy is countless.

Slashed by swords, blasted by holy power, his head flying off from my fist…

And yet, despite all that.

He doesn’t die.

I’ve seen the immortality trait before with Lana, but unlike her who at least showed signs of being temporarily incapacitated, this one genuinely seems to take no damage whatsoever.

His body does get injured, but it feels like hitting a scarecrow—nothing actually gets worn down.

The fact that he doesn’t even attempt to defend against attacks only reinforces this impression.

“Why won’t you just die…!”

“Child. If we’ve spent so much time together, shouldn’t you know by now?”

That voice cut into Yuria’s words.

It’s the voice of a kindly grandfather, but given the situation, it can’t mean anything more than mockery.

“I never fight battles I can’t win.”

“…”

That’s usually my line.

While I’m inwardly smirking bitterly, another voice flies in from the side.

“…At this rate, we absolutely cannot win.”

Lucien said through gritted teeth.

Over his voice, which clearly revealed his impatience, the kindly voice layered itself again.

“I should express my gratitude.”

The Pope opened his mouth with a sneer directed at us.

“Bringing the materials needed for the final stage of the glorious resurrection directly to me. I wouldn’t have needed to go far to find them.”

After saying that, the Pope’s languid gaze swept over Yuria and Lucien in turn.

I notice them flinch at his gaze, which feels like a snake crawling all over their bodies.

‘…This is tough, really.’

I look behind him without responding.

Because there was an even bigger problem than his immortality back there.

Behind the Pope, in what looked like a giant blister-like growth, something in the shape of a “body” was wriggling like a fetus inside a womb.

Its appearance is unspeakably horrific, but if you consider the abilities it possesses, that horror would likely be multiplied.

“…”

Honestly, if that thing fully awakens, even I won’t be able to handle it.

The Holy Body—the power of that monstrous thing created by the subtle support of the Otherworld and this guy’s obsession—has single-hit firepower that surpasses even demonic powers if you search the entire game.

That’s precisely the hidden card the Pope is holding. The reason he doesn’t even try to actively defend himself is all because of that thing.

‘It’s like there’s an automatic time attack in place.’

He just needs to breathe and wait—as time passes, he’ll win unconditionally.

Well.

A guy who doesn’t die no matter how much you hit him also has a card like that.

‘…Originally, it wasn’t quite this bad.’

He wasn’t an easy kill in the original work either, but true to my nature of never taking the easy path, it seems the difficulty has been significantly increased again.

If they had designed it like this in the game, the developers would have received a generous helping of curses from users wondering how they were supposed to beat such a boss configuration.

[…If he’s truly immortal like you say, isn’t fighting itself meaningless?]

‘…Theoretically speaking, that’s true.’

I look at the Pope who stands still, taking our attacks.

In truth, neither Lana nor this guy possesses perfect immortality.

From the beginning, even Lana would eventually die for real if she kept dying and approaching a critical point. It’s not infinite regeneration.

There must be an energy source necessary for that kind of revival, and the solution is to deplete it.

But the opponent before me feels somewhat different.

He must have died dozens, if not hundreds of times by now, but there’s not even a hint of his regeneration slowing down. The fact that I can’t even grasp the principle behind it doubles the severity of the situation.

“…”

I close my eyes and organize my thoughts.

As Lucien said, continuing to fight like this is meaningless. It’s just wasting energy.

‘—Still.’

It’s not like I have no idea how to defeat him.

And what I need to follow that strategy is complete focus.

“Let me ask you one thing.”

“Didn’t you say we should speak with our bodies?”

Such mockery flew at me as soon as I opened my mouth, but I continue regardless.

“You keep talking too. I need to get something in return to make this worthwhile.”

The Pope’s face twisted slightly when I responded glibly.

He clearly doesn’t like that I’m maintaining my composure despite the obviously disadvantageous situation.

He probably dislikes me greatly and wants to see me emotionally shaken somehow.

And that’s exactly the tendency I’m aiming for right now.

I continue speaking calmly to him.

“I understand you’ve been playing various tricks on a continental scale. But I want to ask about just one of them.”

“…”

“The Empire. The Tristan Dukedom. That curse is quite famous. Was that your doing too?”

“…”

“The previous Grey Demon’s Vessel was definitely Elnore’s mother. I’m wondering if someone deliberately created the circumstances for the fragment to ‘dwell’ there.”

Thinking back, the first demonic fragment dwelled in Elnore clearly because she directly witnessed Gideon killing his wife.

I’m now openly asking if this guy was the cause of that situation.

Evidence? Well, there probably isn’t any.

But there’s a strange certainty arising from intuition.

Someone this insidious likely extended his reach to such deeds.

“…Ha.”

The Pope let out a laugh of disbelief.

His face showed a complex mix of emotions—whether this was an appropriate question to ask now, whether I was serious.

From the beginning, he has no reason to admit it. There’s no need in the current situation.

As I just said, there’s no clear evidence either.

“—Yes. It was amusing.”

But.

I inwardly chuckled at his voluntary admission.

While there’s no reason to admit it, there’s also no reason to deny it when his victory seems certain.

He wants to see me lose my composure even a little by revealing he did something terrible to my future wife’s family, so he simply acknowledges it outright.

“The sight of that husband killing his wife was quite—”

“—Ah, yes. No need to go into details.”

I cut off the Pope’s attempt to continue.

And thanks to that.

I just obtained the decisive key to victory.

He probably doesn’t even realize what he just did.

And seeing me grinning while cutting off his words, the Pope’s expression hardened again.

“…Your mouth works well. Despite being on the verge of death.”

“Aha.”

“You’ve shown many interesting scenes, but in the end, you’re nothing special either. Even now, if you called for reinforcements from elsewhere, at least you could struggle—”

“No, that’s not it.”

I interrupt the Pope’s attempt to speak.

He seems to be making quite a big misunderstanding.

“What are you?”

“…”

“You see, I came with exactly the personnel needed to deal with you right here.”

The Pope’s expression twisted horribly.

●

‘How can we… win this!’

While deflecting another sword from a Holy Empire paladin flying at her, Yuria thought anxiously.

The opponent takes no damage at all. But if they drag this out, they’ll definitely lose.

With their current capabilities, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that predetermined death awaits them—

“Yuria.”

And into those anxious thoughts, Darwood’s voice suddenly interjected.

Turning toward him with a puzzled expression, she saw Darwood beckoning to her in a friendly manner, as if calling a pet.

“…?”

It’s a familiar gesture.

It’s the signal he often used when he wanted to throw her somewhere to grind something up. A kind of signal.

‘But what difference would that make…!’

The opponent recovers from any fatal wound, so what difference would it make to chop him up a bit more finely? Yuria bit her lip thinking this, but.

“…”

A strange sense of dissonance washed over her.

Her eyes quickly scanned the surroundings, searching for the source of this feeling.

And the source of that feeling was none other than among the paladins she was fighting.

They were all knights in full armor, and she couldn’t see anyone’s appearance.

But among them.

Suddenly.

There was someone who gave her an uncanny sense of déjà vu.

The way they held their sword, from somewhere.

It seemed like a stance she’d seen before.

It felt like she’d fought against it before.

“…”

Her gaze reflexively turned toward Darwood.

As always, it seems like he’s planning something.

Though she doesn’t know what it is, she has an unspoken certainty that this too is probably that man’s arrangement.

If so.

Following his instructions should lead to a solution. As always.

“—I’ll do it!”

With those words, Yuria put the leash around her neck with a snap.

[…For such a resolute statement, it doesn’t look very dignified, does it?]

‘…Just because someone declares themselves resolute doesn’t make it so.’

Such a conversation was taking place in someone’s mind, but.

●