Chapter 83
Rattle—
After successfully rescuing the Cardinal, Eric’s group escaped the fortress with help from the Shadow Knights and Duke Chryseus.
They returned to the mountainside where they had left their carriage and immediately set off toward the Eastern Diocese.
“Do you think Sir Virga and the Duke will be all right?”
Inside the carriage headed for the commercial city of Ergen, Lillian—having just heard what had happened while she was unconscious—spoke in a worried tone.
She hadn’t seen how powerful the Demon King of Corruption was, but from her experience with the Demon King of Thorns at the Castrum Fortress, she knew exactly how terrifyingly strong a Demon King could be.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” Eric said calmly. “Both Duke Chryseus and the Shadow Knights are powerful. Maybe they can’t capture the Demon King, but… they’re not the type to go down easily.”
The Shadow Knights, one of the Church’s greatest forces, spoke for themselves.
And the ruler of the East, Duke Lapilus Chryseus, was hardly a man to be underestimated.
They may have lost the fortress to the Demon King’s army, but that had only happened because the attack came from the kingdom’s border—completely unexpected.
If they had known in advance and concentrated their forces, they could have easily held their ground.
After all, the title of “regional ruler” wasn’t something one could buy with money.
“Sure, it’s nothing compared to the monster-ridden North, but the East—rich from trade with the kingdom—has its own kind of strength.”
The main storyline of the game centered around the North, where humanity waged war against the Demon King’s army.
Mercenaries and heroes rose to fame through endless battles, but nobles and their retainers from other regions rarely got the spotlight.
Duke Lapilus Chryseus, who held the East in his grasp, was one of those few exceptions.
In the original story, after the Count’s death and Alberto’s succession, the Winterrose family fell into decline.
When the North could no longer sustain itself due to a food shortage, Duke Chryseus marched with his forces, carrying an enormous amount of provisions to support them—a major event in the narrative.
“He’s not exactly the strongest fighter himself… but in certain situations, he’s scarier than that monster, Duke Ater.”
That was the best way to describe Duke Chryseus’s fighting style: Gear Power.
At first glance, his clothing and accessories seemed modest for a noble of his rank, but each piece was in fact a priceless artifact containing potent magical effects.
Most of them lost their power after one use or required a long time to recharge with mana—but there were dozens of such artifacts in his possession.
Even if he was no stronger than an ordinary soldier after exhausting them all, until then, he could easily stand among the mightiest of humanity.
“Still… that cautious old man, the Demon King of Corruption, won’t be easy prey.”
Regardless, with the Duke and the Shadow Knights there, Eric saw no reason to worry.
If the entire demon army had been present, maybe it’d be different—but the Demon King alone couldn’t handle them all.
Ding—
[You have slain the Named Monster .]
[You have slain the Named Monster .]
Letting go of his lingering concern for those left behind, Eric reviewed the messages floating before him, tallying his rewards.
[Your body adapts to torn muscles.]
[Strength +7]
[Your body adapts to explosive movement.]
[Agility +5]
[Your body adapts to continuous strain.]
[Endurance +8]
[Your body adapts to intense mystic energy.]
[Mana +3]
A total of +23 stat points.
Defeating two Named monsters at once had granted him more than most level-ups ever did. His lips curled into a satisfied smile.
[Giant Killing!]
[A reward is granted to the hero who achieved an incomprehensible feat.]
[Select one of the following traits to acquire.]
/
After confirming the messages, Eric sighed regretfully.
Since he hadn’t landed the finishing blow on Longus, he only received one reward.
“If only I’d gotten from Longus too…”
- Momentarily unleash power beyond your physical limits.
Eric Ater
Level: —99
Strength [15 → 22]
Agility [13 → 18]
Endurance [20 → 28]
Mana [12 → 15]
Traits: , , , , , ,
“…Weird. Really weird.”
Just as Eric finished reviewing his gains, the Cardinal—silent since they’d escaped the fortress—finally spoke, his brows furrowed.
Eric tilted his head. “Weird? What do you mean, Your Eminence?”
“You, lad. You.”
Cardinal Devotio fixed Eric with a sharp gaze.
No longer the frail prisoner he had been in the dungeon, he now looked far more vigorous thanks to Malefica’s healing. His voice carried an edge of unease.
“You’re the new hero appointed by the Central Church, right?”
“If you mean the Holy See, yes.”
“I was told that hero was completely talentless. But looking at you now… something doesn’t add up.”
There was deep suspicion in his eyes.
“Do you mean it’s strange for a talentless hero to have slain a Named monster? If that’s the issue, Lady Lillian’s magic—”
“No, no. That’s not what I mean.”
Devotio shook his head. “What I’m talking about is more… fundamental. Your body.”
“My… body?”
Eric swallowed hard, caught off guard by the unexpected direction.
“Yes,” Devotio said, his tone grave. “As a man of the cloth, I shouldn’t say this, but talentless ones… they feel empty. Even if they look the same as others, there’s a hollowness inside them. A void.”
Eric blinked, confused, as the Cardinal continued.
There was no evidence, of course—but after decades in service, his intuition rarely failed him.
And it told him clearly: this young man was different from all the other “talentless” he had met.
“But you,” Devotio went on, “you don’t feel empty. You’re filled with something—and I’m quite certain it isn’t the Goddess’s blessing. It’s something else. Like…”
He paused.
Like the strange, forbidden power wielded by heretics—those who performed miracles without divine aid.
“…No, never mind. Forget I said that.” He stopped himself abruptly.
After all, this was the man recommended by that crow—Isabella.
One of only three Inquisitors in the entire Church, and the one who hated heresy more than anyone alive. She wouldn’t make such a mistake.
“I must be getting too old for this…” Devotio muttered, ending the conversation.
Eric forced a calm expression, though cold sweat trickled down his spine.
Creak—
After several days of uninterrupted travel, their carriage finally arrived safely at the diocese.
“C-Cardinal!”
At the cathedral entrance, Bishop Fides—who had rushed out upon hearing the news—greeted them with teary eyes.
“Haha! Fides, it’s good to see you. You’ve lost weight since I last saw you,” Devotio laughed heartily, patting the bishop on the back.
Welcomed warmly by the gathered clergy, the Cardinal stepped inside—but paused midway and turned to call out to Eric.
“You said your name was Eric, yes?”
“Eric Ater, sir.”
“Thank you. I owe my life to you for pulling me out from under that old ape’s nose. There were… complications, but considering the circumstances, I’ll let that slide.”
Devotio’s brow twitched slightly, recalling the stunt Eric had pulled—taking him hostage to escape.
“In any case,” the Cardinal continued, “you risked your life to reach the Demon King’s lair and save me. It wouldn’t be right to let you go unrewarded.”
“There’s no need, Your Eminence. I simply did my duty as the Church’s hero.”
“Duty, my foot! You’ve got that ‘I want something’ look all over your face.”
Devotio laughed heartily, as if reading his mind.
“If it’s something you can’t say now, tell me later. Doesn’t matter where—send word anywhere, and I’ll make sure it’s handled.”
“…Thank you.”
Eric bowed deeply, gratitude flickering in his eyes.
It was the best kind of favor one could receive—an unspoken debt from one of the four pillars of the Church, the Cardinal of the East.
“Cardinal, we can’t relax just yet!” Bishop Fides suddenly exclaimed.
“What do you mean? Did something happen while I was gone?”
“W-well…” Fides hesitated, looking troubled. After a long pause, he finally spoke.
“Saint Gregory has been summoned to the Central Church again.”
“What? Again? He was only just released after that whole Demon King affair! There’s no justification for this…”
Devotio’s expression hardened.
At that moment, Eric stepped forward.
“Your Eminence.”
He recalled the promise Devotio had just made—to grant any request.
And with a resolute look, Eric spoke.
He had suspected it since leaving the North.
Now, it was clear.
Those lunatics at the Central Church had finally made their move.
“Looks like I’ve got a favor to ask after all.”
If that’s how they wanted to play it—then it was time to end this once and for all.
