RD | Chapter 46

Ian was familiar with Keith’s sword. Even if he hadn’t played much of Keith’s route, the major items were unforgettable.

That sword was the [Holy Sword].

“Well, all the swords Keith uses might as well be holy swords.”

A blade blessed by a Holy Knight, flowing with divine energy—if that’s not a holy sword, what is? But this particular one really was the [Holy Sword]. When Keith became the commander of the Holy Knights, he himself had placed the sword on the altar of God and spent a month drinking nothing but water to consecrate it.

The sword itself was a masterpiece, handed down to each Holy Knight Commander through generations. It was perfectly attuned to Keith’s abilities, allowing him to unleash his full potential.

Normally, this sword wouldn’t appear until the latter part of Keith’s route…

“But with the story all messed up anyway, who cares? I already killed the Western Grand Duke.”

The Western Grand Duke, the mid-boss in the “Keith’s Vatican Destruction ~ Journey West” arc, was already dead.

With that, Ian wouldn’t have to deal with the demon tribe the Grand Duke controlled, which would’ve otherwise drained his strength.

Besides, getting the sword didn’t necessarily mean they had to destroy the Vatican. Surely there was a way to sneak in and grab it without making a scene?

Ian’s heart raced at the thought of giving an S-tier weapon to his five-star hero.

“Let’s find it.”

“Are you sure about this? You might end up in danger because of me.”

Keith asked cautiously.

“What’s with the obvious line?”

Ian replied nonchalantly. This whole journey was a gamble that put Keith in danger anyway.

“If that happens, you just lure the enemies away with your life on the line. I’ll run.”

“Yes. I will do so. You must escape.”

But Keith answered seriously.

Ding!
[Keith vows to protect the Agent of God.]

Ian gave him a warm smile. There was no need to curse at a guy willing to risk his life for him.

“Crazy zealot.”

And so, the mismatched pair set off on their journey.

The Pope sat in the conference room. Around the round table meant for cardinals and high-ranking priests were the people he had sent to chase Keith.

The vice-commander of the Holy Knights slammed his fist on the table.

“Explain yourself! Is it true that you’ve allied with the demon tribe?”

The Pope thought with a benevolent expression.

“Fools.”

They were easily deceived by appearances, and yet they dared to raise their voices before him.

The reason for their gullibility was clear. The vice-commander, more than ten years older than Keith, had likely expected to take the commander’s seat when the previous commander died and left the position vacant.

But the Holy Knights had among them a prodigy, an undeniable favorite of God.

Holy Knight Keith.

The Pope had elevated Keith to the position of commander, and he still remembered the vice-commander’s face at that moment. A look of disbelief, despair, and jealousy he could barely conceal as he stared at the young, outstanding knight. Though the vice-commander had quickly schooled his expression, everyone in the room had noticed.

Keith had noticed, too. Though the Pope had hoped for conflict between the two, Keith treated the knights with fairness and magnanimity, ensuring no internal strife occurred within the order.

The vice-commander had still seized any opportunity to oust Keith. Yet, to challenge the Pope now? Laughable.

“Silence will not resolve this. Is it true? Has Sir Keith truly sided with the demon tribe? Could this be some kind of misunderstanding?”

“Explain why the demon tribe attacked Sir Keith. They didn’t even look at us. They clearly targeted him, as if they knew we’d corner him there….”

The knights’ voices trembled. Though they had obeyed the Pope’s orders and pursued Keith, they had always respected him.

Who wouldn’t?

Even the vice-commander, envious as he was, couldn’t deny Keith’s excellence. Keith’s dedication and passion were beyond reproach.

Moreover, none of them had truly fallen so far as to conspire with demons. These were people who risked their lives to rescue others from besieged cities and cleanse cursed lands.

As the Pope silently listened to their protests, he finally asked:

“Why is it wrong to ally with the demon tribe?”

“Pardon?”

“What kind of question is that…?”

“Are you mocking us, Your Holiness? This is outrageous.”

“No, I’m sincerely asking. Why is it wrong to ally with the demon tribe?”

The Pope’s gentle demeanor unsettled the room. This wasn’t the attitude of someone cornered.

“The demons are wicked beings! They corrupt humans, enslave them, and eventually devour them….”

“Yes, but isn’t that simply their nature? Something they cannot help? And isn’t it also true that their power is overwhelming?”

The Pope spoke as if explaining something obvious. His calm reasoning made everyone in the room uneasy.

“Your Holiness, please stop. Your words are unbearable. They are unfit for someone in your position.”

“Step down, Your Holiness. We do not wish to disgrace you, but you’ve left us no choice. Allow us to handle this with dignity.”

The vice-commander demanded.

The Pope remained unmoving. The one who acted was Maverick, the squire standing silently beside him.

Keith’s squire, Maverick, was at the cusp of adulthood, well-liked throughout the Vatican for his handsome looks and cheerful demeanor.

He drew the sword he was holding. The vice-commander recognized it.

“Wait, that sword….”

Before he could finish saying “Sir Keith’s…,” Maverick’s blade slashed his throat.

Crash!

All the doors to the conference room burst open, and monsters poured in. Grotesque creatures that looked like abominations of humans and beasts swarmed the room.

“Kyaaaah!”

The monsters bypassed the Pope and Maverick, attacking the knights and priests instead. Taken off guard, they couldn’t react in time.

It was a fatal mistake. They had come unarmed, not expecting a fight. The monsters tore into them.

“No! Fall back!”

“Hold the line!”

Attempts to regroup failed. The Pope pointed out the remaining knights still holding onto their senses. Maverick nodded and charged at them.

“How could you…?”

The knights, even as they fell, couldn’t believe the squire they had cherished would turn on them. One of them spoke as blood poured from his mouth. Maverick silently pulled his blade free from the knight’s throat.

Crunch, crunch.

The room fell silent, save for the grotesque sounds of monsters gnawing on flesh and bone.

Maverick sheathed his sword and trembled, lowering his head.

“Is this really okay?”

His voice was soft, like that of a boy unsure of himself.

“It’s for the good of the many.”

The Pope replied tenderly, as though comforting a troubled child.

“This is a sacrifice to protect the majority. You’ve lived a safe and happy life here, haven’t you? Your sick little sister is being treated, isn’t she?”

“Yes, Your Holiness….”

“Exactly. This place is worth preserving, even at the cost of a few lives. Without it, everyone would be devoured by the monsters.”

“Yes… Your Holiness.”

Maverick wept. The Pope rose and gently patted his shoulder.

“Didn’t Sir Keith teach you what is righteous?”

“Yes, Your Holiness… the Vatican.”

“That’s right. So you’re not betraying Sir Keith by helping us. He would be proud of you in heaven.”

Maverick closed his trembling eyes as the monstrous chewing noises filled the air.

Was this truly the right thing?

He didn’t know.

He could only believe.

The Pope is always right.

The Vatican is always right.

It’s God’s will.