After the banquet, news of the Holy Kingdom's Pope arriving in the Empire spread like wildfire. The Pope was said to be residing in the palace's private villa and performing miracles for the people of the imperial capital. This news blossomed like spring flowers, and countless rumors began to circulate, rapidly establishing the Pope as a great savior in the Empire.
The tales of his divine acts were often condensed into three main points:
He made the paralyzed walk, straightened a hunchback's back, and opened a blind person's eyes.
He inspired notoriously stingy nobles to make generous offerings.
He converted even the most stubborn unbeliever to God with just a minute of conversation.
These three miracles were witnessed by many. With each new story, most of the faithful had no choice but to genuinely praise the Pope. Perhaps that's why the largest temple in the Empire, which the Pope visited every morning, was crowded with believers today. The most devoted would arrive early to hear the Pope's sermon and catch a glimpse of him.
Looking at the crowd, which was as dense as a cloud, the Pope, standing at the front of the altar, waved his hand graciously. The crowd trembled in awe.
"A miracle is coming from His Holiness the Pope!"
"Will he show us a miracle today?"
"I hope he can fix my child's legs..."
The Pope performed miracles at every Mass, saving people with a face that appeared both pious and affectionate. The powerful and the powerless alike gathered around him like a flock. Their faith, fueled by the miracles they witnessed, grew stronger with each passing day.
"Welcome, Imperial citizens, who have gathered here to receive the teachings of the gods."
He recited God's will in a quiet, measured tone. The people listened to the sermon with bated breath. However, the Pope was merely reciting the doctrine mechanically. His thoughts were consumed by Meldenik. Since meeting her, the Pope had felt a profound sense of triumph.
He had been given the Catechism, a book containing all the secrets of the world, passed down through generations. When he first read the Catechism, which recorded the past, present, and future, he was thrilled. He felt a light shining in the darkness when he first encountered Sheria and Duke Hesman in its pages.
'The influence of Duke Hesman and Sheria was by far the highest,' he mused.
He deliberately approached the two, and his first goal was to change the course of Sheria's life and future.
'Sheria, renounce your title as a princess and return to the arms of the gods,' he had commanded.
"As Your Holiness commands," she had replied, brainwashed by him, and gave up her title.
Yet, despite his efforts, the future did not change. No matter how trivial the change he attempted, time would rewind to the past, undoing his actions.
'I cannot change the future with my own hands,' he realized.
His ultimate goal was to become a god who could dictate the world's destiny, not just a mere representative. To do that, he had to be able to change the future. He had gathered all sorts of powers, including those of alien races and demons, which God had bestowed upon him, but still, he could not alter what was predetermined. The future always flowed as it was written, offering no alternative.
Then, something changed.
At some point, the recorded future had shifted. Sheria had changed, and so had Duke Hesman's attitude. Most importantly, the influence of a woman rarely mentioned in the records, Meldenik, had suddenly grown.
'The text in the section about Meldenik's life was constantly moving,' he remembered.
He had initially thought Meldenik was just a minor nuisance, but this woman was changing her own destiny. As far as the Pope knew, she was the only one who could alter the future.
'The entire future has changed drastically because of that woman,' he thought.
Meldenik Kinnoa.
She knew how to read the words in the records that no other Pope had ever been able to read. The moment her hand touched the pages, the letters moved wildly—something he couldn't accomplish with any of his own special abilities.
'Meldenik can change the future.'
The Pope, recalling the teachings of his predecessors that no one in this world could change the record, smirked and shuddered. As he mechanically recited the doctrine, lost in his memories, his voice stopped. The priest standing next to him quietly got his attention.
"Your Holiness, even... a prayer," the priest whispered.
"Ah."
Snapping out of his thoughts, the Pope looked down at the crowd. He saw the faithful he had brainwashed and quickly put on a sincere expression.
"No more prayers for now. This concludes today's Mass."
With that, the priests began distributing holy water and relics to the seated believers. As people received the blessed items, their expressions became blank, their eyes losing their spark one by one.
He once enjoyed manipulating others. He felt a thrill in controlling people with the holy water he created and felt powerful when he could save or kill at will. But not anymore.
He looked down at the back of his hand, where a black stain had bloomed in an instant, and maintained a serene smile. He came down from the pulpit and gently placed a hand on the shoulder of an old woman at the front.
"Be patient. God will soon come to you."
"Your Holiness!" the old woman sobbed, bursting into tears.
The moment the Pope touched her, her wrinkled face smoothed out, restoring the youth she had lost ten years ago. The people in the temple watched in amazement and cheered at this new miracle.
"So everyone, believe in God... believe in me."
The Pope turned and walked out. The sight of his pure white ceremonial robe fluttering in the wind was reminiscent of a god's second coming. All the believers were deeply moved by his holy appearance. They knelt and prostrated themselves until the white robes disappeared from view.
The Pope entered a section of the temple that was off-limits to the public. Once the chatter of the crowd faded away, the quiet temple garden was revealed. He quickly caught up to the priest who was following him and grabbed his arm.
"Listen, Radish."
"Yes, Your Holiness." The priest, Radish, stood at attention.
"It won't be long before I can enter the secret room."
The secret room was a kind of torture chamber and a dimensional subspace the Pope had created. There, he used various vile arts to steal the powers of alien beings. The room had been temporarily closed since his meeting with Meldenik, but it was about to reopen.
The Pope, basking in Radish's reverent gaze, repeatedly clutched the rosary in his hand.
"Soon. The day our plan will be fulfilled is soon," he whispered.
Marquis Meldenik Kinnoa.
She was the final key to his plan to become a god. The past, present, and future would be written at her fingertips. He couldn't do it, but Meldenik could. And what if he could control her at his whim?
The Pope let out a long sigh, a mix of tension, anticipation, nervousness, and excitement.
"But, Your Holiness, the Marquis of Kinnoa is ignoring all of the temple's invitations," Radish said hesitantly.
The Pope stroked the loyal priest's head. "Then shouldn't we make it so that she has no choice but to come to me?"
For the past week, I had been incredibly happy. My business was expanding, with new pop-up stores opening at the Imperial Malton Academy, Sufia Academy, and the Commoner Academy.
'I've heard that word of mouth is going viral at the Commoner Academy, but I'm not sure,' I thought.
Unlike Malton and Sufia Academies, where my stationery was already a must-have, the Commoner Academy was practically uncharted territory. I stood nervously in front of the pop-up store I had set up near the main entrance.
It was a small, container-like space with a glass front, and a parasol had been placed in front of it. We planned to store inventory in the transparent space and attract customers from under the umbrella. On the parasol, as always, was a hint of the special item I was presenting today.
The item was something I had discussed with Mirisa, Axion, and Carat.
'Is it pure white paper?' I had asked them.
'Yes, but white paper is usually only for schools! We usually have to use yellow paper, like parchment,' Mirisa had replied, her purple eyes wide with excitement.
'That's right,' I had smiled.
Now, I was neatly arranging square sheets of paper in a vibrant array of colors: blue, red, green, gold, silver... As I was sorting out the various papers, my attention was drawn to a sudden stir in the crowd.
'What's happening? I feel a sudden rush of people, but there's nothing out there yet.'