CRAAAAASH—!
The ceiling was pierced by the gray light swung by the highest-ranking holy knight.
What appeared through the collapsing ceiling was a silver shield.
Gray and silver.
Two similar colors, yet different.
Of the two, the silver had spread a pair of wings that looked sacred.
It looked like the shield raised by a knight of the gods.
“!”
“......!”
For an instant, the holy knights’ eyes were seized by that shield.
Because there was an unknown holiness in it.
The shield that had protected countless people had, by then, grown strong with the weight of all those lives, and it possessed a force that pulled the eyes of anyone who saw it.
And in that split second—
a black-haired man ca through the shield.
“Oh.”
A smile blood at the Pope’s lips.
The black-haired man coming toward him.
His hair color was different from what he knew, but—
“Cale Henituse.”
The Pope turned a gentle smile on the sacrifice approaching him. On the vessel for the God of Chaos.
The Pope looked like an ordinary old man with a kindly face, the sort one could et anywhere.
The smile on his face, like that of a warmhearted old grandfather in the countryside, held more benevolence than chaos.
“You ca here on your own feet. How delightful.”
He smiled at Cale with the glad warmth of an old man welcoming his grandson.
The vessel the God of Chaos would use when he descended into this world.
That vessel had been the source of every variable, yet in the end it had co to him itself, so for the Pope this was a truly joyful thing.
“...And I can feel the Primordial of Chaos as well.”
And within that vessel’s arms he could feel the divine relic of the God of Chaos, the Primordial of Chaos.
Both had co to him at once.
The Pope could not help but smile.
He made no effort to hide his feelings.
“Truly, I am so very glad—”
But then—
“—!”
He faltered.
Cale Henituse was coming toward him through the gaps in the collapsing ceiling, wind wrapped around him as the silver shield vanished.
“My.”
The force pouring from him—
that intangible force swelled in an instant.
It felt as though a single colossal boulder, a mountain-like mass of stone, were crashing down directly at the Pope himself.
A force so enormous it could suffocate him, overwhelm him.
A force rushing in like a natural disaster.
“Urgh!”
“Ugh!”
The holy knights’ knees bent before they knew it at the force descending from the ceiling.
Like a great mountain.
Like a natural disaster.
The holy knights broke out in gooseflesh before this force that felt impossible to stop.
And at the center of them, the Pope they were protecting—
“Ah.”
A breath escaped him.
The Pope had certainly watched a recording of what had happened in Primordial Night.
Back then, Cale Henituse—
“So this is why you were able to stand face-to-face with a god—”
So this was why the saint had failed to defeat Cale Henituse!
So this was why the God of Chaos wanted Cale Henituse as a vessel!
The Pope felt gooseflesh rise on his arms before the force pouring down on him as though to crush him—no, to dominate him.
He lowered his head and looked at his arm.
On the wrinkled skin of his aged body, surprise and fear landed for the first ti in a very long while.
The corners of his mouth trembled.
And when he lifted his head—
“!”
Cale’s pupils widened.
An old man with his hands clasped ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) behind his back, his slight fra hidden beneath the ample robes of a priest.
He was smiling.
But Cale did not see that smile.
Well, damn.
The Ancient Tree let out a sigh.
What the hell? Since when can the Pope use a force like this?
The dominating aura sounded flustered.
Sss—
A force flowed out from the Pope.
It’s chaos!
It was chaos.
But—
What is that?
—it was different.
Different from the chaos that had poured out of the God of Chaos.
Up until now, every person Cale had encountered from the Order of the God of Chaos—priest, holy knight, saint—had all possessed the sa gray.
But the Pope—
It’s varied.
Bright and dark, dense and faint.
Like paint bleeding into a blank canvas.
The gray shades of the chaos pouring from the Pope were incredibly varied.
...This is almost......
The Ancient Tree murmured with a groan.
...as if it’s alive—
The chaos flowing from the Pope—
it gave off countless shades of gray like a living thing.
Cale!
And the dominating aura grasped the identity of that force.
This isn’t the God of Chaos’s chaos!
Of course, Cale had already realized it too.
It shares the sa root, but that chaos belongs to him!
Yes.
That was the Pope’s chaos.
The Pope was soone who possessed his own chaos.
Whether it is or not.
But Cale did what he had to do.
The Water that Devours the Sky spoke in a rough voice, clear and sharp.
He’s still a bastard who needs the shit beaten out of him, right?
Cale agreed with that completely.
Shhhh—
The spear of water in Cale’s hand imdiately left his grasp and shot toward the Pope.
CRAAAAASH—!
A deafening explosion rang out.
The water exploded.
“Urgh!”
“Gah!”
The holy knights at the Pope’s side hurriedly leaped away.
Watching that, General Mol—sword of the Demon King and leader of the Third Army—hesitated.
Why is this happening?
Hummmm—
The divine relic in his possession stirred.
Even the Demon King did not know this relic’s true nature.
It had been passed down through General Mol’s family for generations, and others thought it was simply Mol’s weapon, but—
its true essence was a god’s object.
And now that god’s object was vibrating.
Mol’s eyes turned to Cale without his aning them to.
Cale was charging again toward the Pope’s side, where the exploding vapor and dust had not yet cleared.
Mol could not keep his gaze there for long.
“Damn it!”
Mol raised his sword.
His body slid backward.
Beyond the blade he had lifted toward the sky, he saw the expressionless face of the highest-ranking holy knight.
And there was a black dragon and a young man charging toward that highest-ranking holy knight.
The black dragon—Choi Han’s sword—headed straight for him.
But Choi Han’s attention was on Cale.
...The Pope!
That presence gave Choi Han a chilling feeling he had not felt in a long ti.
That Cale handling the Pope himself was the most correct choice.
And that in the anti, Choi Han should deal with the highest-ranking holy knight and then go help Cale.
Choi Han thought so too, but—
He’s too relaxed.......
The highest-ranking holy knight before him had still not used all his strength.
He was rely avoiding Choi Han’s body with leisure.
He did not even seem to have any intention of protecting the Pope.
“.......”
“.......”
When Choi Han’s eyes t the holy knight’s, the highest-ranking holy knight said calmly,
“I am one who protects the Pope, and—”
He had two roles.
“—one who restrains.”
The mont Choi Han felt unease at the smile on the highest-ranking holy knight’s lips,
Cale was already moving in accordance with that ominous instinct.
The hand that had just thrown the spear of water was empty, but now—
Fwoooosh—
a reddish-gold firebolt was already hovering there.
Through the vapor and dust, that reddish-gold firebolt shot straight toward where the Pope had been standing.
Crackle, crackle!
As though it would burn everything away, the blazing reddish-gold light made the holy knights nearby fall back.
Cale found that strange.
Holy knights who seed to trust the Pope more than anyone, and to protect him.
Instead of throwing themselves in front of him, instead of sacrificing their bodies for the Pope, they yielded to Cale’s power.
They rely retreated by a fraction.
...They’re afraid.
And the mont they faced that writhing gray force that looked alive, they were frightened.
They feared that force more than Cale’s dominating aura.
And Cale was able to touch the substance of what they feared.
Tap.
Cale’s foot touched the ground at the place where the spear of water had struck.
The mont he saw the Pope through the steam—
“......!”
Cale saw a bizarre sight.
That’s impossible!
The Water that Devours the Sky cried out in disbelief.
The Ancient Tree sighed.
Damn.
Wriggling gray.
Unlike the God of Chaos, it had no eyes.
Instead—
mouths.
Countless mouths.
The writhing gray curled around the Pope like a massive serpent, surrounding him like a shield.
And set in that gray smoke were innurable mouths.
Those mouths were eating the steam and water.
All of it was the spear of water the Water that Devours the Sky had fired.
Slowly, the Pope moved his hand, and the shield vanished. The gray force wrapped around his body like priestly robes.
The Pope opened his mouth.
“Within chaos, anything can exist.”
Good and evil.
Joy, despair, sorrow, exultation.
All could exist within it, and thus it was chaos.
“In other words, chaos can eat anything.”
That was why chaos could contain anything.
Could devour it.
“When the God of Chaos watches over all things.”
There was nowhere his gaze did not rest.
Because the world was gradually filling with chaos.
And so the Pope realized his own role.
“I am the one who conveys his will, and the one who offers chaos up for him.”
That was why he needed mouths.
Because he had to deliver that will through speech.
And because he had to eat, in order to offer chaos.
That was why the power given to him by the God of Chaos—gaze alone—was not enough.
So with the god’s permission, he created a chaos of his own.
That was the form he wore now.
Writhing chaos.
That was the Pope himself.
And what resided within it were mouths for the God of Chaos.
The Pope took one step forward.
The mouths of chaos spread like his garnts, like his cloak, opening toward Cale’s reddish-gold firebolt.
They wanted to eat it.
Because it was sothing they had never seen before.
The mouths of chaos had greatly welcod the water they had eaten earlier.
Because that too had been sothing they were tasting for the first ti.
“Truly, what a vessel filled with so many delicious things.”
The Pope could see it.
“A vessel that is building a complete world—”
He thought he could understand why the god coveted it.
The Pope, who wished to beco a mouth for the god.
He had no lust for power. No desire for honor.
He acted only for the god.
So he was glad.
Step.
He took another step.
The gray mouths worked open and shut.
“Co—”
The old man beckoned with a kindly face.
He opened both arms wide.
“Co here.”
He walked toward Cale.
And Cale—
He’s insane!
—swung his arm as he heard the voice of the Destructive Fire, full of disbelief.
Crackle—!
A reddish-gold firebolt.
That firebolt, which purified dead mana, shot toward the Pope.
CRAAASH!
Another deafening roar burst out.
Step.
Cale stepped backward.
This bastard is genuinely insane!
The Miser sounded utterly appalled.
Damn it! Damn it all!
The Water that Devours the Sky could not contain her fury.
Chomp, chomp.
The firebolt exploded with a roar.
The gray that had been flipped over by that blast swallowed the lightning, the fire, and the smoke with its countless mouths.
As if all of it tasted unbelievably good.
As the smoke cleared, the Pope was still coming forward.
Damn it all! That chaos is different from the God of Chaos’s! I need ti to figure it out!
The Water that Devours the Sky poured out her words in a rough rush.
Together with the dominating aura, the Water that Devours the Sky had faced chaos, and together with the Miser she had gained the power to purify it, to overco it.
But that chaos was not the God of Chaos’s.
It had begun from the sa chaos, but it was the Pope’s.
And so those mouths could swallow what Cale’s Ancient Powers produced.
Step.
The Pope ca forward again.
And Cale stood still.
“Co here.”
The Pope beckoned to Cale, to the vessel.
Because a vessel that was creating a world was so very precious.
And then—
Step.
Cale took one step toward the Pope.
He did not retreat.
Cale.
The Ancient Tree spoke quickly.
Those mouths must have limits too.
There were countless mouths.
But the belly that could hold what those mouths ate had to have a limit.
Because that belly was the Pope.
Cale. Our powers have grown trendously now.
He did not know whether they could defeat a god, but at the very least they had beco a gigantic, overwhelming power like a natural disaster.
Wouldn’t it be possible for those mouths—for that stomach—to swell until it bursts?
The Ancient Tree offered a theory of his own, a reasonable one.
Because the Pope was different from the God of Chaos, there would surely be a limit to what he could contain, what he could eat.
Shhhh—
Water rose in one of Cale’s hands.
Crackle—
Reddish-gold current danced in the other.
Two different things blood in his hands.
A smile deepened at the Pope’s lips.
Unlike the countless mouths that only ate, he spoke.
“Are you trying to test whose limits are greater?”
Gray smoke began to pour from those mouths.
As the gray smoke, writhing like a living thing, spread through the air, he said in a benevolent voice,
“Do you truly think you will win that test?”
The Order of the God of Chaos.
Chaos that existed everywhere, hidden within countless dinsions and worlds.
And within that Order, there was only one Pope.
A single Pope among countless worlds.
Did Cale Henituse, standing before him, understand what that ant?
The Pope, too, had a vast vessel.
His path was simply different from Cale’s.
“It seems I must asure my limits again, for the first ti in a long while.”
The Pope smiled warmly.
Everything was rely delightful.
Because the end of all those variables had, in the end, led him onto a shortcut.
Shhhh—
Crackle—
Water and fire.
Wind curled around the feet of Cale, who held both.
At the Pope’s feet too, writhing gray gathered.
And the mont Cale stepped forward—
Whoooosh—
his body shot ahead.
The Pope spread both arms and went forward to et him.
To devour everything—
“O chaos, you shall contain all things!”
The smile at his lips deepened.
Then—
“!”
The Pope saw the water and fire vanish.
I—
In their place, silver began to gather.
Cale accelerated himself with the Sound of the Wind and clenched the silver lines whirling around both his hands. Those fine lines changed into sothing like a grip.
And Cale’s eyes were blazing hot.
I’m supposed to hand over food—
“—for whose benefit?”
It was hard enough feeding the bastards who actually earned their keep.
Why the hell would he feed anything to this bastard of a Pope too?
Ha!
The Ancient Tree let out a cry.
No.
Cale did not want to give those mouths what they wanted.
And there was one who reacted to that more strongly than anyone.
No!
The crybaby old man, who could never hold back his sorrow and anger when he saw injured comrades, injured family.
And the gluttonous priestess who had embraced that old man quietly flared to life.
That’s not what eating is!
For the gluttonous priestess, the act of eating had been a conviction she held until the day she died.
She was the one who had even shoveled polluted earth and soil corrupted by dead mana into her mouth.
She could not tolerate the gray mouths before her now.
Cale felt the sa way.
“The hell you’re going to eat anything!”
Eat what?
Cale had made a vow.
If you laid a hand on soone precious to another person, then you had better be prepared to get hit back dozens of tis harder.
Woooo—wooooo—
A silver shield appeared in Cale’s hands.
At a glance, it looked a little like the shield that top-tier holy knight had used when he created hallucinations.
But it was different.
Cale raised the shield.
And then—
CRAAAAASH!
He smashed it down.
Straight into the countless mouths inside the writhing gray.
“Heh.”
Cale laughed.
“Good thing there’s so much to smash!”
If he kept beating them, maybe those mouths would finally close.
Cale shrank the shield, which he usually spread out on a huge scale, down to a small size and covered the front of his body with it.
The Unbreakable Shield.
And so it did not shed so much as a single speck.
The mouths hanging open could eat nothing.
Instead, those mouths had to take the blow of that solid shield.
Hummmm—
The brilliant silver refused to allow the gray mouths even a single mote of light.
Regeneration moving more strongly than ever, Heart’s Vitality, the tree facing what it could not tolerate, the Unbreakable Shield.
And Cale felt like he would not calm down until he beat the living hell out of the Pope right in front of him.
Hummmm—humm—
Because it had two wings, the shield was not heavy.
Cale gripped it and moved.
The shield, following its master’s will, shone with even more brilliant silver and hardened further.
And as he watched, Raon shouted,
“It’s Mom’s way!”
The forr Lord Sheritt.
That dragon who used a shield had preferred to smash her opponents with it.
Because the greatest protection, the greatest defense, was hitting first.
CRAAAAASH, BANG—!
Wind lashed around his feet, shield in hand, and Cale began to rampage.
As he did, his heart throbbed, wringing out as much power as it could.
The sight of him resembled Kim Rok Soo from the days when he had nothing else he could do and had charged in with a sheet of tal in his hand.
But unlike back then, what Cale held in his hand now was the Unbreakable Shield.
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