Reverse Dungeon

The Pope, summoned in the dead of night, looked as though he had not even managed to dress himself properly.

His white hair was disheveled over his nightshirt, and his face was so vacant he seemed like a man whose soul had already left his body.

He had no choice.

The matter was urgent.

His true master had contacted him.

That master had ordered him to come at once, and the Pope could not refuse.

After the world changed, the master he served was no longer the one in heaven.

It was a demon on earth.

What choice did he have?

If he did not obey, everyone would die.

The Pope was the guardian of the Vatican.

He was also the protector of the holy land.

If he died, who would govern all the people gathered in the Vatican?

Who would protect them?

Because the Pope loved his people, he had been forced to accept the demon’s offer.

Whenever the Western Demon Archduke demanded it, he supplied a fixed number of humans.

In return, he received the archduke’s protection.

If it had been only for his own sake, the Pope would never have accepted such a bargain.

He would have fought until his frail body broke.

But the Vatican was the last bastion.

When the world collapsed, all those who could still walk fled to the Vatican and sought salvation from him.

The Pope spent entire days kneeling in the temple, striking his forehead against the floor as he begged God.

Please save them all.

God did not answer.

So the Pope had to save them himself.

He truly had no other choice.

He heard a child crying outside the window.

The Pope lowered his head at the demon’s feet and wept tears of blood.

At that moment, the laughing face of the Demon Archduke burned vividly in his mind.

Demons did not have hideous faces.

The face of evil was beautiful enough to deceive people.

The Pope bowed his head at the feet of the beautiful Demon Archduke.

This time, he did not cry.

Since that day, he had bowed countless times and kissed his master’s feet.

There was nothing new about it anymore.

“Master...”

The old Pope called out to the Western Demon Archduke in a trembling voice.

Belial, the demon of desire, commanded him.

“Bring me Keith’s head. You must succeed, no matter what it takes. If you fail again, I will feed you to the dogs.”

At his master’s languid voice, the Pope felt his stomach turn.

“But, Master, Sir Keith... Keith is highly skilled and extremely perceptive. He escapes every trap we lay for him. It is not that I have not tried. My ability is simply lacking.”

“You have a long tongue. Say what you want to say.”

“Please grant your wisdom... to this foolish man. How can we capture Keith?”

“You are foolish, and shameless besides. You have no sense of disgrace. You have always been that way.”

Belial pressed the Pope’s head down beneath his foot and looked down at him.

“But I like slaves like that. People honest about their desires are adorable.”

As Belial sighed, a faint hope stirred in the Pope’s heart again.

A droplet of blood fell from Belial’s fingertip.

Belial watched it with regret for a moment before finally averting his eyes.

“M-Master...?”

The fallen droplet of blood squirmed as though alive, then gathered itself into a single jewel.

“Take it.”

“This is...”

The Pope stared, mesmerized, at the glittering crystal.

“My blood. Give it to him. Make sure it touches his skin.”

“Yes. Yes, Master.”

“I dislike him. He is boring. Those foolish ascetics who do not even know their own desires... and yet claim to serve God.”

Belial smiled.

“My blood is precious, but if it stirs up his desire and drags out his shame, that would be a delightful sight.”

The sound that woke Keith came at dawn.

“Sir Keith, His Holiness is calling for you.”

The page who had recently been attending Keith stood outside the door.

“At this hour?”

“Yes. He said it was urgent. It seemed he wanted you to hurry.”

“I’ll go.”

Keith accepted only light armor from the page and walked down the corridor.

Something is wrong.

He could sense people nearby. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

There were many of them in this area.

Of course, they were not mamools. Such ominous beings would not have been able to approach the Vatican in the first place.

Even so, it was strange for so many people to be moving around at this hour.

Had many others also received orders from the Pope?

But external missions were rarely issued at a time like this.

An attack on the Vatican.

A dark premonition flashed through Keith’s mind.

But if that were the case, the page would have shouted, “Sir Keith, we’re under attack!” instead of calmly saying, “His Holiness calls for you.”

It was also strange that there were so many people in the corridor, yet no lights had been lit.

Keith felt a powerful unease.

He ignored it.

The Vatican had saved him.

And the Pope was the one he was meant to serve.

Everyone here was someone he had to protect.

They were not enemies.

Keith forced down the tension rising inside him.

He knocked on the door to the Pope’s chamber.

Knock, knock.

“Your Holiness. I have come as you summoned me.”

“Oh, Sir Keith. Please come in.”

The Pope was dressed lightly.

Keith was somewhat surprised to see him in a state close to his underclothes, but he made no comment on his appearance.

Instead, he knelt.

He lightly kissed the hem of the Pope’s long nightgown and bowed his head.

“I apologize for making such a difficult request of you at this hour. I am always placing burdens on you, Sir Keith.”

“Please do not say that. I am always ready to serve God. Command me as God commands His servant.”

“Then I shall ask this of you.”

The Pope spoke kindly.

“Take this amulet and bury it in the ruins of the coliseum in the Southern Demon Archduke’s territory. You know that place has long been used as a playground by demons, do you not? I knew of it as well, but I lacked the strength to eradicate it. Now, however, it seems God has punished that place, and it has collapsed. We must prevent the demons from rebuilding it and ravaging people again. If you leave now, you should arrive in time. Please.”

“Yes. I will depart immediately.”

Keith did not argue.

The virtue of a knight was not to question his master’s judgment, but to obey.

Keith reached out with his gloved hand to accept the amulet, but the Pope stopped him.

“I would like you to wear it around your neck personally, Sir Keith.”

“Around my neck?”

“Yes. It is important. This is an item I blessed through long prayer. Even if it catches a demon’s eye, it must be kept somewhere safe, somewhere it cannot be easily destroyed.”

Confusion crossed Keith’s face for a moment, but he lowered his head.

“I will protect it with my life.”

The Pope personally placed the amulet around Keith’s neck.

The instant the jewel at its center settled against his chest, Keith felt a sharp pain.

“...Ugh!”

The jewel seemed to burrow into Keith’s skin.

It sank into him as though absorbed by magic.

The remaining gold chain tightened around his neck.

Keith’s heart pounded violently.

His blood raced through his body.

For one moment, the ceiling seemed to pull away from him.

He understood immediately.

What was now coursing through his veins was not mere blood.

It was demonic energy.

Keith gripped the gold chain with both hands and snapped it apart in a single motion.

Even so, he staggered, unable to stand properly.

“Now! Hurry, come in!”

The Pope’s shrill voice reached Keith’s ears, then blurred.

Keith blinked.

His thick lashes trembled, casting shadows across his cheeks.

He looked at the Pope in disbelief.

“What is this...? You...”

“Sir Keith, please stay still. You are the one who made this difficult, are you not? Please die for the sake of everyone in the Vatican.”

The Pope pleaded with him, cold sweat running down his face.

BANG!

The door behind the Pope burst open, and people wielding swords poured in.

Their faces were familiar.

Keith recognized them.

His comrades were among them.

People whose lives he had once saved were among them.

It was sickening.

But Keith focused on what he had to do.

“Maverick!”

Keith called the page’s name.

Maverick was the boy Keith had rescued from a burning village.

Keith had not brought a sword to meet the Pope.

He was unarmed.

Maverick, standing outside the door, was holding his weapon.

“Sir Keith... I’m sorry...”

But all that came from behind him was a sobbing ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) voice.

Keith clenched his teeth.

He could not tell whether Maverick had been captured or persuaded by the Pope.

He knew only one thing.

He had to get out of here.

The betrayal of those he trusted hurt more than the wound tearing through his heart.

“Please die, Sir Keith!”

One of his comrades from the knights shouted and charged at him.

Keith caught the sword with his bare hands.

Then he seized his comrade by the neck.

CRUNCH!

The sensation of bone breaking in his hand was horrifying.

Worse still was the fact that the number of people blocking his way seemed to multiply without end.