“This is the Holy Cathedral, and you’re under the Saint’s protection. If you truly felt threatened by Marcello Teres, you could have requested judgment against him. But you didn’t.” Athanas’s words struck like acid rain, eating through my already paper-thin defense.
As I stood there, lost in thought, what Reyes said about distortion suddenly came to mind. The most terrifying thing about it isn’t just being under its influence, but knowing you’re affected, knowing you have the power to break free... and choosing not to.
“So, the second we draw our swords, it’s a fight to the death?”
It was a absolute mess of a duel.
The air crackled with tension, thick and electric—less like some formal historical duel and more like the moment before a storm breaks. No crowd watched with bated breath, no officials inspected their weapons, none of that ceremonial garbage.
Let’s be honest, you’d have to be abnormal to even entertain the thought that the Dark Realm was real.
Yeah, the devs love to hype it up with their fancy marketing jargon, claiming it’s “modeled after the deepest layers of reality” or whatever.
I clutched my head as the message window popped up, letting out a scream of pure frustration.
“Are you actively trying to screw me over? F*ck, why! Why! Why the hell would you pull something like that right before leaving?”
Pandemonium’s grip on my hand loosened so suddenly that I nearly lost my balance. I stumbled back a step, caught between confusion and wariness. His nonchalant tone only made it worse.
My mind went blank.
What the hell do I even say to this guy?
Another wave of cold sweat hit me.
This bastard clearly sees anyone who isn’t a player as a disposable NPC, someone he can just kill without a second thought.
The invisible noose around my neck dissipated the second my identity was confirmed.
I stared in disbelief. That was it? That’s all it took?
Pandemonium’s face crumbled after hearing about the reliquary’s tracking function.
Flustered, I rushed into an explanation. I told him about how I’d discovered Bishop Andrea was a servant of the Distorted One, and how Athanas, worried about my safety, had given me the reliquary to protect me during those private doctrine lessons.
“…What?”
“I’m talking about Insanity. If an Othergod can’t bring in more than one player, he has to be the ‘Lord of Nightmares’ player. It adds up, don’t you think?”
“…So what?”
Right off the bat, I knew who’d barged in.
A player. And not just any player either.
Probably that strategy game nerd, I thought, instantly annoyed. Of course, this had to be Reyes’s fault.
I flinched, my fingers freezing mid-keystroke.
The God of Records?
My gaze flicked to my left hand. Smooth, unscarred, just... normal. Still, I balled it into a fist so tight it ached.