Chapter 85

Game Category [Post][Casual Chat]

[Useful Passive Skill List (Long)]

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No.6 “White Silence”

◆ A rare skill ranked in the single digits for importance. Despite being simple, it’s notoriously hard to obtain.

◆ Known acquisition condition: survive with only 1 HP remaining while possessing the Purification skill.
Even then, there’s no guarantee you’ll get it.

◆ Its ability is simple. It conceals the power of “Purification.”
Your opponent can’t tell you used it.
Think of it as a kind of sleight-of-hand or a veil.

A sweet skill for times when you don’t want anyone to know you’re the Pope.
Requires only a small amount of divine power, with virtually no drawbacks.
Can be used even under most “status effects.”

The pure white light of Purification vanished in an instant.

At the same time, a faint translucent veil appeared before my eyes.

When Purification touched part of the Judge’s hand, the dog’s skin began to melt away, just like when the black moss melted down the Black Slime in the underground fanatic cell.

— Ow!

— Harsh!

— Too harsh!!

— Yipe—!

The dog’s whining echoed through the space again.

“…”

Usher froze, eyes wide.

‘There’s really only one way he can interpret this.’

I pulled my hand back from the Dog-Headed Judge as if I couldn’t care less—though in truth, my thoughts were anything but calm.

Ugh. That felt disgusting! I’m definitely washing my hands when I get out. Ten times! …No, twenty!

“If you’ve seen enough, then stop getting in my way and scram.”

At least this should be enough to shut Usher up.

‘All I have to do is get through this exam.’

After this, his expulsion is guaranteed.

With that thought, I turned my back. I’d already wasted too much time.

Then—

Smack!

A shadow flashed before my eyes faster than lightning.

I flinched, but only for a second—

Usher was standing in my way.

“What, you still want to fight…?”

I hadn’t deactivated Purification yet, just in case.

I calmly started to raise my hand—

“Savior!”

My eyes widened.

Thud.

The man—whose face now looked gentler and more saintly than any holy man’s—fell to his knees before me.

In perfect submission. In a posture of prayer.

“Punish me for daring to doubt you! It would be an honor to die by your hand.”

His eyes burned with fanatical devotion—no, madness.

“Your servant is here.”

…This guy’s completely unhinged.

His voice grew quicker, swelling with—ironically—hope.

“So it was to meet you that I spent ten years in infiltration…!”

…What?

When he reached for my hand, I quickly pulled it back.

“These small hands!”

Even though I slapped his grasp away, he paid no mind, his gaze locked on me with fanatical obsession.

“Shall I pluck out these foolish eyes that failed to recognize the Savior?”

That pure, fervent tone sent a chill up my spine, but I barely kept it from showing.

“Shall I cut out this tongue? Let me wash away my sins. If you wish, I’ll even cut off the hands that dared to bind you—it would be my joy!”

Usher’s lips curved into a smooth, eerie smile.

“Strike off my head! Make it hurt…! Let the pain last a long, long time.”

I still said nothing, so—apparently deciding what that meant—Usher bowed even lower.

“I have witnessed a miracle.”

He stopped when his head was positioned below mine.

Finally, our eyes met.

“If you will not kill me… then let me serve you.”

…Insane.

Is this what it feels like when you try to flick away dirt, but it sticks to your hand instead?

— Oh, the Pope’s underling is a fanatic?

— That’s one hell of a family tree!

— A dog’s family tree! Woof-woof-woof!

Shut it!

Can’t you mutts keep quiet for once…?

It was true that every other fanatic I’d met up to now immediately pledged themselves to me once I revealed I was the Evil God’s chosen.

But I thought Usher would be different.

This guy was one of the Evil God cult’s most carefully raised and trained hunting dogs, with a very specific mission. A named fanatic, and an executive at that.

The kind who valued nothing but the purpose of his infiltration.

So I figured he’d just turn around and walk away without regret.

But why the hell—?

* * *

The purpose of Usher Tatum’s life had been set from birth.

One of the cult’s finest agents—raised with Evil God worship and blind devotion drilled into his mind—and sent deep undercover.

For over ten years, Usher had crept closer and closer to his goal, now only a hair’s breadth from completion.

But along the way, he’d grown restless. The long infiltration left him feeling empty.

Though still a devout believer doing his best for the cause, the idleness and hollowness settled in his heart refused to fade.

So he stirred up fights—quietly enough not to jeopardize his standing in the cult.

He caused conflicts, sowed division.

It was so much fun!

But that too eventually lost its shine. And just when his interest was about to wither entirely—

A figure appeared, like a comet, like a lone star in the pitch-black night sky.

Someone he couldn’t take his eyes off for even a moment—someone he desired for the first time.

Nemesia.

And that child was the cult’s hope, the very embodiment of a miracle—

The Savior.

Usher felt the greatest joy of his life.

That the Evil God’s child, the one destined to destroy the world, was also the most promising Pope candidate.

It could only be the cult’s greatest blessing.

Her display was enough to convince him of her words.

…Well, about 99% convinced.

‘Hahaha.’

Still, his sly, cunning mind couldn’t erase that last grain of doubt.

So he knelt and begged.

Even if she gouged out his eyes, cut out his tongue or hands, or killed him—he’d accept it gladly.

‘Go on, do it. Show me more. Show me…!’

The child only stared down at him without expression.

No frown, no glare. Was this the true face of the Savior?

His heart surged with ecstasy.

“Will you kill me? I’ll die happy.”

The child didn’t reply.

He continued smoothly.

“Or, if you wish me to follow, tell me what you desire.”

In the darkened space, Usher’s eyes gleamed like those of a predator.

“Shall I assassinate the Archbishop in his coma? Burn down the Order’s First Treasury, crammed full of treasures? Oh, I even know a way to collapse the entire underground.”

Then, as if recalling something—

“Or perhaps… you want a Cardinal’s head?”

He lowered his gaze, his beautiful eyes narrowing as they rolled upward—like a starving beast licking the bottom of its dish.

“Or should I track down whichever candidate is fated to become Pope… and slit their throat?”

He’d been sent for a single purpose.

It was so vital that he’d been given the privilege of refusing to cooperate in any other mission.

But the moment the prophecy came down, that a Pope would be born, the cult’s orders had changed.

‘Carry out your original mission, but if you find the Pope…’

They were to either abduct them… or assassinate them without fail.

The child kept staring down at him in silence.

Usher took that indifference as a gift and smiled all the wider.

All the while, he drank in every detail of her face.

Surely, the Evil God had chosen such a lovely child to charm countless souls.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Like someone who didn’t want to miss a single moment.

“What is it you desire, Savior?”

Now then… My long-awaited Savior… will you be able to see through the trap I’ve set right here?

* * *

‘This bastard… It’s a trap.’

I let out a long sigh in my head. Unbelievable.