Reverse Dungeon Chapter 46

Ian knew Keith’s sword.

Even if he had not played much of Keith’s route, he could never forget the major items.

That sword was the [Holy Sword].

“Well, every sword Keith uses is practically a holy sword.”

A blade blessed by a Holy Knight and filled with divine energy—if that was not a holy sword, then what was?

But this particular blade truly was the [Holy Sword].

When Keith beca commander of the Holy Knights, he personally placed the sword upon the altar of God and spent an entire month taking nothing but water as he consecrated it.

The sword itself was a masterpiece, passed down from one Holy Knight Commander to the next for generations. It was perfectly attuned to Keith’s abilities, allowing him to draw out his full potential.

Normally, this sword would not appear until the latter part of Keith’s route...

“But the story’s already gone off the rails anyway, so who cares? I already killed the Western Grand Duke.”

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

That ant Ian would not have to deal with the demon tribe the Grand Duke controlled, which would otherwise have drained his strength.

Besides, retrieving the sword did not necessarily an they had to destroy the Vatican. Surely there was a way to sneak in, grab it, and leave without making a scene.

Ian’s heart raced at the thought of placing an S-tier weapon in the hands of his five-star hero.

“Let’s go find it.”

“Are you certain? You may end up in danger because of .”

Keith asked cautiously.

“What’s with the obvious line?”

Ian replied as ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) if it barely mattered.

This entire journey was a gamble that put Keith in danger anyway.

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

“Yes. I will do so. You must escape.”

Keith answered with complete seriousness.

Ding!

[Keith vows to protect the Agent of God.]

Ian gave him a warm smile.

There was no need to get angry at a man willing to risk his life for him.

“Crazy zealot.”

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

The Pope was seated in the conference room.

Around the round table reserved for cardinals and high-ranking priests sat the very people he had sent to pursue Keith.

The vice-commander of the Holy Knights slamd his fist onto the table.

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

With a benevolent expression, the Pope thought,

‘Fools.’

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

The reason for their gullibility was obvious.

The vice-commander was more than ten years older than Keith. When the previous commander died and left the position vacant, he had most likely expected to inherit the commander’s seat himself.

But among the Holy Knights, there had been a prodigy.

An undeniable favorite of God.

Holy Knight Keith.

The Pope had elevated Keith to the position of commander, and he still rembered the vice-commander’s face in that mont.

Disbelief. Despair. Jealousy.

He had stared at the young and outstanding knight with emotions he could barely conceal. Though he had quickly schooled his expression, everyone in the room had noticed.

Keith had noticed as well.

The Pope had hoped for conflict between the two of them, but Keith had treated the knights with fairness and magnanimity, preventing any internal strife from taking root within the order.

The vice-commander had still seized every opportunity to oust Keith.

And yet now he dared challenge the Pope?

Laughable.

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

“Explain why the demon tribe attacked Sir Keith. They did not even look at us. They clearly targeted him, as if they knew we would corner him there....”

The knights’ voices trembled.

They had obeyed the Pope’s orders and pursued Keith, but they had always respected him.

How could they not?

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

Moreover, none of them had fallen so low that they would willingly conspire with demons.

These were people who risked their lives to rescue others from besieged cities and cleanse cursed lands.

The Pope listened silently to their protests.

Then, at last, he asked,

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

“Pardon?”

“What sort of question is that...?”

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

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

The Pope’s gentle deanor unsettled the room.

This was not the attitude of a man backed into a corner.

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

“Yes. But is that not simply their nature? Sothing they cannot help? And is it not also true that their power is overwhelming?”

The Pope spoke as though explaining sothing obvious.

His calm reasoning sent unease crawling through everyone present.

“Your Holiness, please stop. Your words are unbearable. They are unfit for one who holds your position.”

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

The vice-commander made his demand.

The Pope did not move.

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

Keith’s squire, Maverick, was on the verge of adulthood. With his handso face and bright disposition, he was well liked throughout the Vatican.

He drew the sword he had been holding.

The vice-commander recognized it imdiately.

“Wait, that sword....”

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

CRASH!

Every door to the conference room burst open, and monsters poured in.

Grotesque creatures, abominations that seed to be made of humans and beasts stitched together, sward into the room.

“Aaaah!”

The monsters bypassed the Pope and Maverick and attacked the knights and priests instead.

Taken completely off guard, they failed to react in ti.

It was a fatal mistake.

They had co unard, never expecting a fight.

The monsters tore into them.

“No! Fall back!”

“Hold the line!”

Their attempts to regroup failed.

The Pope pointed out the remaining knights who still had their senses.

Maverick nodded and charged at them.

“How could you...?”

Even as they fell, the knights could not believe that the squire they had cherished would turn on them.

One of them spoke with blood pouring from his mouth.

Maverick silently pulled his blade free from the knight’s throat.

Crunch, crunch.

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

Maverick sheathed his sword and trembled, lowering his head.

“Is this really all right?”

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

“It is for the good of the many.”

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

“This is a sacrifice made to protect the majority. You have lived a safe and happy life here, have you not? Your sick little sister is receiving treatnt, is she not?”

“Yes, Your Holiness....”

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

“Yes... Your Holiness.”

Maverick wept.

The Pope rose and gently patted his shoulder.

“Did Sir Keith not teach you what is righteous?”

“Yes, Your Holiness... the Vatican.”

“That is right. So by helping us, you are not betraying Sir Keith. He would be proud of you in heaven.”

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

Was this truly right?

He did not know.

He could only believe.

The Pope was always right.

The Vatican was always right.

This was God’s will.