With a laughter that showed no sign of hesitation, the Pope strangely watched as the Apostle of the God approached him.
The Pope’s understanding of the Apostle of the God had always been that they were noble, despite their weakness. They were beautiful for their resilience, standing tall despite facing their own frailties, bravely moving forward.
In other words, they were also people who were honest with their doubts.
Therefore, ordinarily, when he saw others bleed, he would have lost his smile and relaxed his grip.
But Lucy didn’t hesitate.
Realizing this, the Pope granted his power to his knights and took a step back, watching the world’s state unfold before him.
It was a place that should not exist, a hell that he had created with the power of the End.
And then he understood. The reason Lucy didn’t hesitate. The Apostle of the God believed in humanity, and humanity was repaying that faith.
Why?
The Pope, observing the people raising their weapons in various places, felt confused.
Why are they standing up?
‘Stop!’
‘Fight!’
‘We will win!’
‘For the Great God!’
Why are they filled with such will?
‘Don’t be afraid!’
‘The Apostle has already walked this path!’
‘The one who trusts us and has given us this task! We cannot retreat!’
Why are they pushing forward, suppressing their fear?
‘Don’t fear!’
‘The God is watching over us!’
‘For the salvation of the world!’
‘For our nation!’
‘For our families!’
Why are they marching forward without fear of death?
The Pope knew that humanity was not like this.
Humans were beings who easily fell into despair and crumbled.
There were a few exceptions, but most people would easily give up, letting go of everything in fear, and if it meant escaping their terror, they would gladly turn to evil.
This wasn’t just the Pope’s philosophy.
It was reality.
It was a conviction born from the many humans he had witnessed, from the time he had served as an apostle of the evil gods to the present.
Humans were weak.
That was why they turned evil.
They collapsed under the weight of reality and became evil.
Some children, unable to bear hunger, grasp the hand of evil.
Some men bow to evil to preserve their own lives.
Some parents embrace evil solely to protect their children.
Some villains throw themselves into evil for their desires, but this, too, is because of weakness.
To be unable to satisfy desires through righteous means proves weakness.
Another villain, after countless nightmares, comes to believe that evil deeds are righteous, massacring with a calm demeanor.
This, too, is proof of weakness. If humans were truly strong, they would not have such twisted beliefs.
In all cases, humans, full of weaknesses, face evil and grasp its hand. Even now, this was the case.
As the head of the God’s Church, the Pope knew that countless evils existed in the world, and he had used that evil to his advantage many times.
That was why he thought it natural that they would betray the God’s expectations.
In the past, people had done so, and those recorded in history had done so, and he himself had done so.
When disasters struck across the land, he had expected people to crumble.
In despair, they would look to their own desires, split, bleed, and ultimately betray the God’s Apostle.
But reality was different.
They didn’t run away.
They didn’t retreat.
They didn’t charge recklessly.
The Apostles of the God, as planned, moved forward, calmly facing the disaster.
Why? Without needing to ponder, the answer came to him immediately.
The reason they didn’t despair or give up was entirely due to the faith one person had given them.
The Apostle of the God.
Lucy Arlen.
The many miracles she had performed, things that seemed easy at first but could only be done by her, her days filled with hardship, had bestowed faith upon the continent.
There was no need to reach out to evil.
We are strong.
If we only do what needs to be done, we can win.
We can remain virtuous.
We can create miracles.
The hope that Lucy Arlen alone had created spread like a plague among the people, making them willing to face death.
They believed that even if they died, the world would improve.
The Pope, once again, felt awe as he faced the small girl charging toward him.
She took joy in being his trial.
And, very, very small, she held some anger.
Though he knew it was sacrilegious, he could not suppress it.
It was different from before.
It was incomprehensible that he, who had only felt awe up until now, could feel something else.
"Puhaha♡ Are you mad?♡ You’re irritated because things aren’t going your way?♡"
The Pope, having been caught by his own anger, wiped his face and noticed his lips curling downward.
The power of the End is truly mighty. I, of all people, am feeling frustrated toward the Apostle of the God. Can the concept of the End be this powerful?
"Hahahahaha!"
"What’s this?♡ Have you gone mad?♡ You were already stupid, but now there's a new level of madness?♡"
At this point, the situation had changed.
The plan the Apostle of the God had was now a threat to him.
Even if the evil god of the End descended in a stable world, he alone could not defeat all the gods.
Especially if that item, prepared by the Apostle, were to injure his divine power, there would be no need for words.
"You pathetic adult, pretending to be impressive while you can’t even control your temper~♡ Puhaha♡ How pathetic~♡"
What’s worse is that my gaze was increasingly drawn to the Apostle.
Her beautiful appearance, the bright light that pushed away the darkness, the irritating smile, and her clear voice kept catching my attention.
And it made me want to charge at her.
The anger.
The anger.
Yes. I was drawn to it.
If I kept going like this, I would lose my sanity and forget my original plan, clinging to the Young Lady.
I must avoid that.
"Joo~ru♡"
The Pope suppressed his anger and used the power of the End.
For a brief moment, as he severed the trust between them, confirmed his belief, and completed his technique, a small gap appeared.
The purifying power quickly pushed back the power of the End, but before that, the Pope’s hand reached out to the mage and the saint.
It had to touch them.
"Slow."
Yet strangely, before the hand could reach, the sword, with the power of the End, severed his wrist.
It wasn’t the Swordmaster’s sword, but rather, the sword of a still young girl.
"How?"
Beyond his genuine confusion, the man carrying the powers of two people was visible.
What kind of trick did he pull to transfer the curse given to others onto himself?
That kind of madness was something only seen centuries ago!
But not yet.
It was just the first attempt, a failure, but the distance between them remained!
If they could intervene in the miracle they were creating, they could ruin all of my plans!
The Pope, with veins bulging, tried to break through the magic, but he was startled by the darkness blocking his way and then horrified by the many illusions beyond it.
"...A human using divine power?"
The darkness that had blocked his sight earlier was the power of the dark god, and the hallucinations that had captivated him later were the power of the Void.
Fundamentally different, but the phenomenon was identical to divine power.
He may be Erginus’ disciple, but the child was still so young.
"Your will is only this much."
Through wide eyes, the Pope saw the saint’s smile, and in that instant, his sanity shattered, and at the same time, his body was pulled back.
This was not a normal occurrence. It was divine power. The power of the gods had taken control of him.
"Ahnooong~♡ Pathetic~♡"
The mace, swung down from above, shattered the Pope’s face, and beyond the fading sight, the divine power pushed away those nearby.
"Pathetic♡ Pathetic♡ Pathetic~♡ So weak~♡"
And as my head returned to normal, the voice I heard made the Pope lose his senses.
Instinctively, the Pope charged toward Lucy, only to realize, after facing her smile, that he was losing his mind.
But it was too late.
His punch had already been thrown, and Lucy’s shield came out to block his fist.
Normally, the Pope’s divine-powered punch would have been too much for Lucy to block.
Like before, she would have been sent flying from the shock. But the sound that came from Lucy’s shield was as clear as church bells.
"Puhuhu♡ Is this all you’ve got?♡" Hahaha. Hahahahahaha. Hahahahahaha! "Yes. Seems this is all you can do."
As the Pope reached out again, Lucy raised her shield, but strangely, his hand bypassed the shield and grabbed Lucy’s arm.
"Uh?"
She felt confusion at a mistake she would never make, but this was inevitable.
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The power of the End had crossed causality and touched Lucy.
"Still, we must do our best."
There was no time to look back now.
To achieve even a little of what was intended, she had to overcome the trial before her.
How arrogant.
How foolish.
The Apostle of the God had become my trial. How could I win if I was thinking of anything else?
Miracles are born when we do our best.
It’s only when we don’t give up and put everything we have into the situation before us that miracles happen. Surely, that’s how it will happen for me as well.
"I’ll be a bit stubborn."
The large man twisted the young girl’s arm, and with her scream, he sent everyone charging toward them down below.
They possessed the God’s power, so they would escape the dungeon in no time.
But that’s fine.
By then, the Apostle of the God will have been neutralized.
"Trial."
Please, fall.