Chapter 55
Splurt!
One by one, the soldiers’ heads burst like melons under a sledgehammer.
It was a horrifying sight, even by battlefield standards, where cutting and stabbing with blades or arrows was the norm.
What made it all the more shocking was the fact that the one doing it was none other than the Pope.
After crushing several heads in succession, the Pope shouted,
“Absurd! You dared defile the house where God resides with that level of ability?!”
His presence was the very embodiment of overwhelming terror. Those who had followed Richelieu all dropped their weapons, fell to their knees, and begged for mercy.
“Oh… Sir Karl, benefactor of the Order…”
The Pope approached Karl with a warm smile, recognizing him after the battle ended in mere moments. But Karl ignored the Pope’s voice and turned away.
“Where are you off to?”
“My work here is done, so I’ll be on my way.”
“How could we possibly let the Order’s savior leave so easily, hmm? Isn’t that right, Cardinal Richelieu?”
The Pope stood there holding Cardinal Richelieu by the head with one hand.
The towering man—easily twice the size of an average human—lifted Richelieu’s head and shook him lightly.
Richelieu dangled helplessly in mid-air, his body trembling in fear as pain gripped his skull.
“Why so silent, Cardinal?”
“Y-Your Holiness is absolutely right!”
At Richelieu’s frantic reply, the Pope clenched his free hand into a massive fist—then swung it without delay.
BOOM!
The air cracked with a noise like space tearing apart, and his punch stopped just shy of Richelieu’s jaw.
Even that was enough—Richelieu fainted on the spot.
“Oh dear… to think he wet himself in this sacred place!”
His lower half was soaking wet. With a dismissive motion, the Pope hurled Richelieu’s limp body aside.
“Sir Karl, you can’t leave without receiving your due.”
“…I suppose I’ll stay for a few days, then.”
Karl sighed as he replied.
Satisfied with the answer, the Pope laughed heartily and patted Karl on the back. Each slap from his cauldron-like hand felt as though Karl was being hammered into the ground.
“I heard from Inquisitor Isabel that you’re fond of wine?”
At that moment, Karl’s eyes twinkled for the first time.
“Ah, yes. That reminds me.”
“…Why do I suddenly have a bad feeling about this?”
“This pendant I received back at the hut—may I return it now? I’d like to enjoy the wine without worry.”
“Oh no, strong drink leads the tongue astray—those seduced by it are lacking in wisdom,” the Pope recited a scripture in warning, clearly cautious.
Karl only smiled faintly in response.
“Keep the pendant. It grants resistance to wicked magic and sorcery, and when needed, it can manifest a divine shield. It is a sacred relic among sacred relics. Let that be the one you carry and guard until death.”
“Is that so?”
Karl’s indifferent tone made the Pope’s face darken, as if mourning a great tragedy.
“Wine, when taken in moderation, is a blessing. But drunkenness is the gateway to ruin.”
Surrounded by gruesome remnants of a battle, the two of them bickered about wine, their conversation surreal.
The knights of the 3rd Holy Knight Order, and the Inquisitors including Thomas and Isabel, all had subtly puzzled expressions on their faces.
“Ahem… First, I’ll begin binding the neutralized heretics…”
Kelvin broke the awkward silence by saying what needed to be said.
‘This has to be the best possible outcome… right?’
Either way, the war that had erupted in the very heart of the Vatican was now over. And in front of Karl, a mission completion window appeared.
[Mission: Illuminate the Path of the Order – Complete]
[One unique skill of the Free Knight will be granted at random.]
***
Despite his earlier sermon about moderation, the Pope’s face had turned red as he sat across from Karl.
“You’re… far more stubborn than I imagined…”
While Karl’s expression remained calm, the Pope was clearly tipsy.
Thanks to the Body Enhancement Skill Karl had obtained recently, he now realized he had become far more resistant to intoxication. His body’s immunity to toxins and harmful substances had clearly increased.
‘Looks like it’ll be harder to get drunk now…’
He had been drinking all day, and only now did he start to feel the effects.
Karl chuckled bitterly.
“Why do you look so troubled?”
The Pope, despite his flush, stared at Karl with clear eyes. Karl met his gaze in silence.
“You seem like someone from another world. Detached? No—it’s not detachment from worldly desires. You feel more like a wandering outsider.”
The Pope smiled subtly.
A wandering outsider…
That might not be far from the truth. Karl currently had only one goal: completing the mission.
Even that wasn’t driven by a deep sense of purpose. He had simply chosen to survive and see things through in this strange world he had fallen into.
He wondered if he could confide in this man—tell him the truth about his situation. But he quickly shook his head. All he’d earn would be a label as a madman. There was no need for that.
“Don’t overthink it. You look like you’re in your mid-twenties at most, yet you act like an old man preparing for death.”
Karl nodded at the Pope’s words.
“Has treating yourself like a stranger brought you anything good?”
“It hasn’t.”
“See? Then why isolate yourself? Do what you can—and leave the rest to fate.”
Karl nodded once more. With a faint smile, he raised his glass and emptied it.
“You already have bonds here, Karl. You can’t remain a stranger. Pushing people away won’t change that. Sometimes, there are things beyond human will.”
Indeed, as the Pope said, Karl had already formed deep connections in this world. And such bonds could not be severed by force or distance.
“….”
Karl emptied his glass again.
Strangely, as he drank what he thought would be his final glass, a heavy wave of intoxication crashed over him.
He began to sway.
‘No… not now…’
Since arriving in this world, he’d drunk many times—but never had he lost control of his body. He had always been tense, even while asleep.
Thud.
Someone caught him as he fell. A warm scent tickled his nose.
“Sir Karl, are you alright? Sir Karl!”
The voice was firm yet gentle—someone with a strong presence and warmth.
‘Maybe… I can rest a little…’
For the first time in a long while, Karl felt his guard lower. And just for a moment, a faint golden barrier shimmered around his body—then vanished.
The Pope watched with a chuckle.
“Let him rest, Inquisitor Isabel.”
The Pope stood up again, looking far more sober than anyone expected. He dusted off his robe and disappeared on the spot.
Isabel gently laid the unconscious Karl onto a guest bed.
Snore. Fweee…
She watched him for a while, sound asleep like the dead, before quietly closing the door.
***
When Karl awoke, he shook off the lingering traces of alcohol with the flow of Qi.
Then he recalled the system’s reward—he had supposedly received a unique skill for Free Knights.
[Aura Armor: A technique to cloak the body in aura like armor.]
It was an active skill. To cloak the body in aura…
Karl had broken free from a kind of curse that had prevented him from using aura, thanks to the journal of the first knight he had once read.
“Let’s see…”
The method was simple: just form a clear will to activate Aura Armor.
Whrrrm…
It was a strange sensation. It felt like a warm energy was wrapping around his body. It was different from the sensation of being wrapped by the Wind Spirit’s power.
“Interesting…”
This time, Karl tried channeling the aura he felt through Aura Armor into his sword.
As his will flowed into the blade, a gentle glow of aura enveloped it.
For a moment.
Suddenly, dizziness hit him, and strength drained from his body. Sweat poured down like rain, and one knee hit the ground.
‘This is still my limit…’
He was still incomplete.
‘But I can use aura now.’
If it were impossible, he’d have no hope. But if it was even slightly possible, he could train and grow.
He had survived this long in a strange world with nothing but his will.
Compared to back then, he was in a far better place now.
And with that, Karl knew—it was time to head to where Count Calido was.
At that moment, a new mission window appeared before him.