"Saintess, don't let anyone leave," Caron commanded. His voice rang out across the dueling grounds, his tone leaving no room for objection. It was a command, clear and absolute. Saintess Seria rose from her seat and brought her hands together, intoning, "By the Light." From her back, six radiant wings unfurled, and a miracle descended. Walls of pure white light dropped from the sky, sealing off every exit and entrance. There would be no escape. The next to move were Caron's cousins. Drawing their swords, they released bursts of mana. Their oceans surged, flooding the dueling grounds with pressure. The cardinals looked around in confusion at the sudden shift—but Caron's next words froze them in place like winter's frost. "If any of you so much as move before I break these shackles, I'll start with your throats," Caron declared. The threat dripped with unfiltered malice, raw and suffocating. It didn't feel like something a human could emit. That killing intent and chilling hostility crawled under the cardinals' skin and rooted itself in their bones. Not a single one dared to defy him. "Ah..." One of the cardinals gave a trembling sigh, unable to look away from Caron. This man couldn't be a Warrior. No, such a terrifying being ought to never be a Warrior. But the god they served... remained silent. The light summoned by the Saintess filled the ceiling of the arena and then cascaded down onto Caron like a divine waterfall. At the very center of the arena, Caron stood bathed in that holy light, his sword driven mercilessly into the side of a paladin—a sight so blasphemous it scorched the eyes. It was as if time had slowed down. The arena fell into a deathly silence until one cardinal finally stood and shouted, "Demon! He's a demon! Everyone, raise your hands and cast him out from this sacred Vatican—!" The voice was cut short—quite literally. "I warned you not to move, didn't I?" Caron said. It wasn't Caron himself, but one of his clones that had appeared beside the cardinal and cleanly beheaded him. Everyone watching turned in horror because Caron had multiplied. There weren't just two of him, either. As eyes darted around in panic, they spotted five identical figures. Five Carons. All of them were perfect duplicates. All of them radiating the same deadly presence. The five Carons surrounded the cardinals like wolves circling helpless prey. The sheer weight of their killing aura caused several to faint on the spot. Where are the paladins...? O Light... Have you abandoned us? Some turned their thoughts to desperate prayers, but no answer came. The blood of the fallen cardinal seeped across the polished marble, painting the floor a grim red. How much time passed like that, none could say. Beatrice, who had been standing at the center, suddenly collapsed. Only then did Caron withdraw Guillotine from her side and gently lower her to the ground. "Commander," Beatrice murmured, looking up at him with labored breath, "I... I think I can finally see clearly again." She gave him a faint smile and continued, "I can feel it... The shackles are gone." "You don't have to talk if it hurts," Caron said softly. "But doesn't this feel like a dream? You being here ..." Beatrice said as her smile brightened. She reached out and gently grasped Caron's hand. "I always wished... I could hold your hand , just once." "Want to close your eyes for a bit?" Caron asked. "I'm scared," Beatrice said. "You're not going to die," Caron reassured her. "No... I'm scared you'll disappear again," Beatrice said. Her eyes had returned to their warm golden hue. Caron gave a faint smile and nodded, then asked, "Why is it that even after half a century, you're still exactly the same?" He reached out and gently covered her eyes with his hand, then said in a low, tender voice, "You're way too old to be acting this spoiled. So... Just sleep for now, and when you wake up, let's share a drink. This time, I'll be the one waiting." Perhaps that was the reassurance she had longed to hear. At last, Beatrice closed her eyes peacefully. Once Caron was certain she had fallen asleep, he rose to his feet and said, "Saintess... I'll leave her in your care." "...Yes," Seria replied softly. With a single wave of Seria's hand, light began to gather around Beatrice's body. A miracle—pure holy power—gently settled into her. She hadn't lost consciousness due to any fatal wound; her core had simply suffered a backlash. Given time, she would awaken on her own. Caron slowly lifted his gaze toward the cardinals. Holding back the deep hostility rising within him, he spoke in a cold, deliberate voice. "If anyone opposes me becoming the Warrior, speak now." No one dared to answer. "So, no objections then?" Caron asked. His gaze landed on Elijah. Elijah, who had never once let his mask of serenity slip, now looked more twisted than ever. With Beatrice lying unconscious, cracks finally revealed themselves in his expression. The mask came off. And beneath that peaceful façade, there was only madness. "Followers of the Light!" Elijah shouted. "Save Dame Uriel from that demon's grasp! Martyr yourselves in the name of Light!" That had to have been the signal. A spine-chilling noise spread from every corner of the spectator stands. Demonic monsters began to reveal themselves—horrific creatures, unlike anything even Caron had seen before. Their arms were nothing but massive blades, grotesque abominations crawling out into the open. Perhaps calling them demonic monsters wasn't even entirely accurate. What pulsed within their bodies wasn't dark mana. It was Perverse Mana, the unnatural force said to be created by the Holy Kingdom itself. "Cardinals!" Elijah bellowed. "Offer your holy power willingly!" The monsters swung their blade-limbs mercilessly, cutting down nearby cardinals. With each victim, they absorbed holy power, growing larger and more monstrous. "Caron Leston," Elijah declared, his voice echoing with fervor. "You cannot stop our great plan. This is only the beginning. The Light will shine across all continents!" From Elijah's body, a gray light began to seep out—a grotesque, mutated version of holy power, twisted to mimic dark mana. "This is the miracle of Radiant Light!" Elijah cried. "The Light still shines upon us—" Caron shot out from Elijah's shadow and, without hesitation, sliced off his head. Elijah's head hit the floor with a sound almost too soft for its weight—and yet, no blood spilled. Only gray powder scattered where flesh should have been. Caron reached down, grabbed Elijah's hair, and lifted the head high. "When the Saintess first called me a Warrior, I thought she was just trying to get through the moment," Caron said quietly. "But now... I think I can believe it." He hadn't needed to check. He knew Elijah wasn't truly dead. Now he understood why Elijah had been so confident. These fanatics had trespassed into forbidden territory. They had used holy power to mimic monsters. What stood before him had never been Elijah himself, but a fabricated double—an imitation created using a crude, sanctified version of a doppelganger's power. "I don't believe in your god," Caron said. "But there's one thing I do know for sure." He swung Guillotine. A massive wave burst forth from the blade, engulfing the monsters entirely. The grotesque beings, who had been butchering cardinals moments ago, fell like leaves—their heads severed in an instant. The few that survived Caron's onslaught met their end under the joint assault of Leon and Leo. Caron calmly looked around at the remaining cardinals. "If I were your god," he said, his voice quiet but sharp, "I wouldn't have let this go on either." Clergy who had sworn to serve a god had chosen to imitate demons. Caron wondered what could be more horrific, and for that matter, more blasphemous. So, just this once—Caron had decided to act in accordance with the will of the god they all claimed to serve. "Listen well," Caron began. He was going to dance the blade's dance. He was going to hunt down every last priest who dared to mimic demons and sever their heads. With that vow, Caron imbued Elijah's severed head with mana. The head disintegrated into a cloud of gray dust. "From now on," Caron declared, "I'm your damned enforcer." The surviving cardinals could do nothing but bow their heads before him. "Deliver us through the Warrior..." And so, Caron became the true Warrior. Brighter than ever before, the radiant light shone upon him. All the surviving cardinals at the scene had become witnesses to the incident. Pope Eurino was immediately released from confinement and wasted no time in issuing a public statement. "All clergy affiliated with the Order of Truth are hereby excommunicated. They colluded with demons and endangered the lives of our faithful. I will no longer bow to their threats!" As soon as the proclamation was made, paladins under direct command of Pope Eurino mobilized across the land. Their first target was the devices installed in major cities by clergy of the Order of Truth. Although Pope Eurino had braced for heavy damage, the actual fallout was surprisingly minimal. A few explosives detonated, but thanks to the cooperation of citizens and countless priests, the chaos was quickly subdued. It helped that those who had reluctantly followed the Order of Truth began to switch sides. Of course, the information extracted from the clergy played a part. "Is it because they were priests? They started talking far too easily," Leo remarked. "I thought fanatics were supposed to be tougher than that," Leon added. Caron slowly nodded at Leo and Leon's comments and said, "That's only because the Ring of Betrayal works better than any mental defense they had." The Ring of Betrayal was one of the artifacts Caron had wrested from the Magic Tower. Its powerful mind-controlling magic had proven itself. Not even fanatics could resist its pull. Caron had used it on Archbishop Pisaro, Elijah's right-hand man, and extracted the location of the explosives. In the process, the archbishop's mind had utterly collapsed. But no one pitied him. He had merely paid the price for his sins. Back in his office, Pope Eurino spoke to Caron in a more relaxed tone than before. "Caron," he began, "How is Dame Uriel doing?" "She should be fine after a good rest," Caron replied. "Nothing to worry about." Pope Eurino had begun addressing Caron more casually now—as "Caron" instead of "Warrior," a title Caron had firmly declined. Letting out a quiet sigh of relief, Pope Eurino murmured, "Thank heaven." He still didn't know Uriel's true name, but Caron had no intention of revealing it. There was no benefit in doing so. Caron took a sip of water and asked, "What's the situation with the forces amassed along the southern kingdom borders?" Pope Eurino shook his head grimly, then answered, "Most of the forces stationed there are staunch followers of the Order of Truth. Fewer than half have responded to my summons." "Then it's a civil war," Caron said bluntly. "It'll be the first in the Holy Kingdom's history," Pope Eurino replied, his tone surprisingly composed. As the highest authority of the Holy Kingdom, he was no stranger to evaluating complex situations. Judging by his voice, he had already resigned himself to the possibility of war. "I'll go down in history as the Pope who failed to prevent a civil war," he added quietly. "Still... when I stand before Him, I want to be able to say I did my best." The "Him" he spoke of could only be the God of Light. Thanks to Pope Eurino's resolve, things were already beginning to move quickly. "Elijah used the power of the demonic monsters," Caron said. "There must be a lab somewhere in the Holy Kingdom where that research was done. It didn't look like something that could be completed overnight. Do you have any leads?" Googlᴇ search NoveI(F)ire.net "There's a city in the south called Lever," Pope Eurino said. "It's where the Order of Truth's headquarters are located. If there is a facility, it's probably there." Elijah had once been hailed as the Saint of Salvation. Now that the monstrous truth had been revealed, it was time for judgment. "For simplicity's sake, I'll refer to your loyalist forces as the Papal Army," Caron continued. "They're facing the rebels." The rebels had more troops. Numerically, the Papal Army was at a disadvantage. And the fanatical rebels didn't care whether the people supported them or not. They were determined to act, no matter what. Worst of all, waging war with outsiders to divert attention from internal unrest was an ancient tactic. And a frighteningly effective one at that. "They could march on the southern kingdoms," Caron warned. "If that happens, we're no longer looking at civil war. It'll be a full-scale war between the Holy Kingdom and the southern kingdoms." "Elijah might even destroy the southern kingdoms and build a new Holy Kingdom on their ashes," he added. "He's insane enough to try." He set his cup down with a sharp clink and said, "In times like these, the solution is simple, Your Holiness." His eyes gleamed with cold resolve as he said, "We gather the troops and beat the hell out of them." "But assembling enough forces will take time," Pope Eurino pointed out. "Can you rally sufficient numbers?" "I'll call my friends," Caron said. "You're saying you'll bring outside help into the Holy Kingdom's affairs...?" Pope Eurino asked. "Come on," Caron said with a grin. "If they're friends of the Warrior, then they're practically friends of the Holy Kingdom, aren't they? Calling them outsiders feels a bit rude, don't you think? I am the Warrior, after all." Fortunately, this new Warrior had a lot of friends willing to help. The Orias Empire, Pajar Sultanate, the elves, the beastkin—all the members of the newly forged alliance were already waiting just beyond the border, ready for Caron's signal. Smiling wickedly, Caron said, "Shall we begin the hunt?" The Mad Dog had set the stage without hesitation. The Warrior had begun his blade dance.