What If the Scoundrel Pope Becomes Competent

◈ 10. The Bloodied Mace of the Inquisitor

---

“NOOO!!!”

Rubin’s scream erupted like a desperate wail.

At the same time, I brought down my secret weapon, The Bloodied Mace of the Inquisitor (S), onto the statue.

Bang!

A deafening crash reverberated through the chapel.

As if on cue, the mace’s special ability triggered, and a system message appeared. 

[The Bloodied Mace of the Inquisitor reacts to an unfamiliar force! It shatters malevolent and foreign energy with sacred conviction!] 

This mace, which I’d just used, was an S-grade item designed to obliterate magical energy.

A relic of the past, it was said to have been wielded by inquisitors during an era when magic and sorcery were deemed heretical and mercilessly purged.

The fanatical conviction of those inquisitors, who would swing this mace at the mere whisper of the word ‘magic’, had seeped into it over the centuries. 

This weapon, steeped in their zealotry, had become a unique cursed item imbued with a ‘destruction’ attribute.

‘It took quite the effort to borrow this from the Church Museum.’

Initially, I had considered bringing a standard purification item.

But purification items are outrageously expensive—absurdly so—and their efficiency leaves much to be desired.

So, I thought of a better plan.

‘Fight fire with fire.’

If poison could be used to counteract poison, why not use a cursed item radiating malicious energy to purify—or rather annihilate—the malevolent force?

As expected, when the two incompatible forms of dark energy clashed, they violently tore into each other, seeking mutual destruction.

Crack!

A grotesque sound like the fabric of space splitting filled the air.

And with it came a splitting pain through my body, as if I, too, were being torn apart.

‘This backlash… it’s a lot stronger than I thought….’

With the Holy Inviolability Pact purification skill activated and the mace’s destructive power combined, I attempted to crush the source of the energy.

If it had been any ordinary object, it would have shattered long ago.

But the ancient power imbued in the golden statue fiercely resisted the mace’s force, sending a shockwave of backlash directly through my body.

I gritted my teeth and focused solely on the numbers displayed in the system window, trying to endure the searing pain. 

[Destroying the Magical Core…]

— Current Progress: 13%

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the core was being broken down.

I clenched my jaw and held on, bracing myself as the progress inched forward.

— 36%

.

.

— 54%

.
.
— 79%

.
.

The numbers continued to rise, albeit at a crawl. 

As I watched them tick upward in real time, I inwardly prayed. 

‘Damn it, hurry up!’

But when the progress reached 91%, disaster struck.

“Urgh—! Cough, cough, hack…!”

A sudden gush of blood surged up from within me, spilling from my mouth.

The clashing forces had generated a shockwave so powerful that it seemed to have damaged my internal organs.

Unfortunately, my streak of bad luck didn’t end there. 

[Skill duration exceeded. The skill 「Holy Inviolability Pact」 has been deactivated!]

What? Twenty minutes had already passed?

The message flashed before my eyes, and I ground my teeth in frustration.

The synergy between the Holy Inviolability Pact skill and the mace had been the key to making progress in the purification. 

But, of course, it had to expire now.

As soon as the skill deactivated, the progress slowed down noticeably.

‘…It’s fine. There’s only 9% left. With a high-grade potion, I can heal the internal damage quickly. I just need to hang on a little longer.’

That thought was my only comfort. 

The delay was frustrating, but I told myself it was manageable. 

After all, I was already near the end.

Little did I know, worse trouble was waiting.

[Creak… Scree-eek…]

The golden statue, which I had almost purified, suddenly twisted into a grotesque expression and began emitting eerie, unsettling noises.

And that wasn’t all.

A thick, dark energy I had never encountered before started seeping out of the statue, flowing freely in an ominous wave.

‘What… is that?’

The formless black mist slithered around, moving as though it were searching for something—its next vessel.

The moment I realized its intent—

“…!!”

—it lunged straight at me.

 

---

 

It had been a long time since I dreamed. 

This one took me back to a time before I became Nikellus.

It was the memory of a night when my friends, frustrated by my constant refusal to hang out, had finally dragged me out for drinks.

On that night, with everyone already tipsy, one of them suddenly brought up an unexpected topic.

“Hey, have you heard about that guy? The one from the class next door—the one who was going to major in sports but had to give up after breaking a bone in that accident?”

It was about a classmate I barely remembered, so I just listened silently. 

Meanwhile, the guy who had started the story carried on, as excited as if he’d stumbled upon a hidden treasure.

“He’s doing crazy well these days. Already bought his own house and even a car.”

“…He already owns a house? Must’ve had help from his parents.”

Another friend sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm, but the storyteller shook his head.

“No, he earned it himself. You know that game they’re advertising all over the place lately? Something like Call of The Ruined Worlds or whatever? He made a killing selling in-game items from that—like, earning a hundred million or even two hundred million in one go.”

“A hundred million!? Two hundred million…!? Is that even possible?”

“Well, the game’s a big hit, so you’ve got rich folks pouring money into it. You know, landlords decking out their characters, bored billionaires playing around… That kind of crowd spends a ton, so rare items sell for insane prices, and some people are making bank off of it.”

“Wow… He was a wreck after that injury ruined his sports dreams, but now he’s living the life, huh?”

The group laughed, joking, without a shred of seriousness in their tone.

“Maybe I should just quit everything and start gaming, too―” 

They could afford to laugh. 

They came from families that would see them through college and into cushy jobs. 

For them, gaming was never going to be more than a joke.

But for me? 

It was different.

At that time, I was cornered. 

I couldn’t even cover my dad’s hospital bills or daily expenses. 

That story about my old classmate felt less like idle gossip and more like divine intervention—a revelation.

‘If I can just pull it off…’

If he could turn his life around like that, maybe I could, too.

That night, with my judgment clouded by alcohol and desperation, I took every last bit of money I had and bought a gaming capsule.

The second-hand capsule was riddled with scratches, and its interior was stained with dubious yellowish marks. 

It was far from glamorous, but none of that mattered.

I was overjoyed. 

Just having that capsule felt like the first step toward something better.

‘Now, all I have to do is make money, right?’

I logged in with a heart full of anticipation and started making and selling potions.

Low- to mid-grade potions were easy to craft, and there were plenty of players willing to buy them just to skip the hassle of brewing their own. 

It seemed like a solid strategy.

While others enjoyed exploring the virtual world, I hunkered down, gathering herbs for ingredients, brewing potions, and selling them to wealthier players.

I repeated that process endlessly, day after day. 

A month later, I checked my bank account, my hands trembling with hope.

‘Two hundred thirty-eight thousand won…?’

The amount stared back at me coldly.

A whole month of skipping meals, living on nothing but gaming, sacrificing the prime of my twenties, all for a grand total of 238,000 won.

Being holed up in the capsule for so long had taken a toll on my health, and yet all I had to show for it was 238,000 won.

‘This won’t do.’

Even if I improved my potion-making skills and doubled my earnings to 200,000 won, it still wouldn’t be enough—not with the mountain of debt my father had left behind.

So, I quit selling potions.

Instead, I focused on leveling up my character.

Of course, I couldn’t keep up with players who spent real money to grow stronger, but I made up for it with sheer effort and time. 

I poured every spare moment into the game, pushing myself harder than anyone else.

My friends and acquaintances started worrying about me, commenting on how gaunt I looked. 

But I didn’t stop. 

By the time I finally managed to scrape together some meaningful money, my father, who had been hospitalized all this time, passed away.

With his death, the burden of hospital bills disappeared, but oddly enough, I became even more obsessed with making money.

Looking back, maybe it was just my way of escaping reality.

And so, I spent another year wandering the game’s ruined world, avoiding the harshness of real life.

Then one day… 

[Congratulations! You’ve been selected for a special event exclusively for long-term users!]

▶ Event Title: For You, Who’ve Worked Ten Times Harder Than Others—Embark on an Exciting Adventure in a New World! ◀

While everyone else was off enjoying thrilling adventures, you toiled away like an ant, enduring the harshness of reality. Grasshoppers mocked the ant, saying it lacked the joy of a carefree life. Yet the ant knew of the bitter winter the grasshopper would never understand.

Your diligent preparations, born from this understanding, will one day bear fruit in unexpected ways.

―Mission 1: Use the provided dungeon entry ticket to become the first to enter the hidden dungeon, ‘Lucidmiller Cathedral’.

―Mission 2: Encounter the final boss of the dungeon, ‘Nikellus’.

―Mission 3: Find the hidden treasure, the ‘Hidden Piece’, somewhere inside the dungeon!

Dungeon Entry Limit: 1 player

Ticket Validity: 10 minutes (Non-transferable item)

Mission Rewards:  ???

In my hands was a gleaming, golden dungeon entry ticket—an unexpected stroke of luck.

Holding that suspicious entry ticket, which might have been either a blessing or a curse from the gods, I laughed brightly for the first time in ages.

 

---

 

“Ugh…”

The moment I woke up from the dream, pain surged through my entire body. 

My arms, legs—there wasn’t a single part that didn’t ache.

Barely managing to lift my heavy eyelids, I found Rubin staring down at me.

“You’re awake? See, I told you it was dangerous to mess with that thing.”

“What happened after I passed out?”

With a pounding headache, I tried to piece together my fragmented memories.

“The moment the skill wore off, a nasty surge of dark magic or whatever came flooding out of the golden statue and lunged at me. Then, out of nowhere, a red fur ball jumped in front of me… Was that you?”

When that black mist-like energy rushed toward me, I instinctively knew it was after my body.

I hadn’t been fast enough to dodge it, and just as I braced for impact, a red blur shot into my line of vision. 

That red furball—most likely Rubin—had blocked the way, standing protectively in front of me. 

Then, in an instant, its body swelled, transforming into a massive fox… or wolf? 

Some kind of four-legged beast, which swallowed the approaching mist in one swift motion.

“Yeah, that was me. When I’m your guide, I stay in this small form. But when I become your guardian, I take on a bigger shape.”

“A guide and a guardian? You’re moonlighting ¹(The phrase 겸업이었냐 (“Were you holding two jobs?”) refers to the dual roles of the character as both a guide and a guardian. The term “moonlighting” was used because, in English, it implies doing a secondary job in addition to your primary role, often in a slightly humorous or casual way. It captures the same lighthearted tone in the Korean dialogue, where the speaker teases the guardian for “juggling two jobs.”), huh. But about that black mist—was it magic? Are you sure it’s safe to swallow? That thing looked toxic as hell.”

“Since you managed to purify 91% of it, I think I’ll survive.”

You ‘think’ you’ll survive? 

That wasn’t exactly reassuring.

I was about to ask again if he was truly okay, but Rubin quickly changed the subject.

“Anyway, the statue’s been fully purified. Take it with you.”

“…Is that okay?”

“What’s the point of leaving it here? The god of war and victory, this Crimson Moon Temple—no one remembers any of it anymore.”

“Hmm…”

“In the past, that golden statue was imbued with divine power—a gentle and warm energy that comforted warriors who had no choice but to end the lives of their enemies for the sake of their homeland.”

Rubin gestured toward the disfigured golden statue with his tail. 

“But too much time has passed. Eventually, it became what you see now—a source of evil magic. Even though I knew what it had become, I just kept guarding it, waiting. I guess I didn’t want to admit that the era I longed for would never return.”

Rubin’s voice carried a note of melancholy, though he quickly masked it as he continued.

“Thanks to you, I was able to snap out of it. You’re the first visitor I’ve had in so long, and I couldn’t just let you die because of my lingering regrets.”

“…Thanks for helping me. I’ll get you a ton of cotton candy when we’re out of here.”

Rubin didn’t respond but offered me a faint smile before handing me a silver pendant.

“Take this.”

“…What is it?”

“It’s a memory storage item. I’ve stored my past memories there.”

I accepted the pendant almost reflexively, examining it closely. 

Inside the pendant, embedded in its center, was a crystal orb where Rubin’s memories were playing out in short, vivid sequences.

The memories showed Rubin being created by ancient sorcerers and receiving his first name.

They showed him guiding a lost child in the temple filled with worshipers.

Later, there were memories of him alone in the abandoned temple, cleaning the chapel after the visitors had stopped coming.

Waiting, waiting, and waiting—those memories stretched on endlessly. And then—

“Come with us.” 

A voice from the memories urged.

Among the countless, unchanging days that cycled like the rising and setting of the sun, a visitor had finally arrived. 

Rubin’s recorded memories of that moment trembled as though he had been deeply nervous about my invitation for him to leave with me.

The footage also included the memory of him nibbling on the cotton candy I had given him. 

That sequence ended the montage of memories, only for the footage to loop back to the beginning, playing endlessly as if to say it would continue forever.

“Why are you giving this to me—” 

I began, but before I could finish asking, a system message popped up. 

[You have completed the fifth main oracle! Would you like to claim your reward?]

• Yes
• No