A Certain Multiverse's Holy Right

Roy stood in the grand halls of the Vatican Palace, his cardinal's robe glowing in the soft light filtering through the stained glass. In his hands, he held a dossier detailing the Seven Sisters, Italy's most powerful magical alliance.

The Vatican Palace, once the Pope's residence, had become Roy's domain after he ascended as the "Holy Son" and claimed dominion over Christianity.

The Sistine Chapel surrounded him with splendor. Its ceilings and walls bore the masterpieces of Michelangelo—Book of Genesis and The Last Judgment. The hall exuded an aura of sanctity, the culmination of divine art and human ambition.

"Seven Sisters…" Roy muttered, a smirk playing on his lips. "That reminds me of Italian football's golden era. Seven Sisters—just like the Italian football clubs."

Though his memories of Campione were foggy, fragments of his past life remained vivid enough to draw amusing parallels.

"Copper Black-Cross is AC Milan, Bronze Black-Cross is Inter, the Olden Dame is Juventus, the Capital of Lilies is Fiorentina, the She-Wolf is Roma, and the Eagle of the Blue Skies is Lazio…"

Chuckling, Roy set the file aside and leaned back, letting the whimsical thought pass. Despite the humor, the Seven Sisters were no laughing matter—they were the most influential mystical factions in Italy and wielded significant power in the occult world.

"Aiwass, how is the analysis of Pandora's ritual and the Heretic Gods progressing?"

Standing beneath The Last Judgment, Roy's shadow mingled with the angelic radiance of Aiwass, who appeared behind him in shimmering brilliance.

"I've completed preliminary conclusions regarding their nature and origins," Aiwass began. "Humans, driven by fear of the unknown and their need for faith, created the concept of gods. Myths were then woven to assign each deity their place. Occasionally, due to special 'magical conditions,' certain divine concepts escape the constraints of mythology and manifest as Heretic Gods in the mortal world."

"Heretic Gods are incarnations of their mythological essence, existing because of a 'core' that embodies their nature. Pandora's ritual essentially fuses this core with a human soul, granting mortals the powers of a god. Campione can thus be considered 'pseudo-gods.'"

Aiwass's explanation was precise and concise, explaining the relationship between Heretic Gods and Campione.

"So, Heretic Gods are akin to Heroic Spirits," Roy mused. "Except that divine incarnations are far more powerful than humans elevated by their deeds."

Roy drew a comparison to the Fate series, where Heroic Spirits were fragments of humanity's legends given form. Similarly, the myths of gods were encoded in human culture, their descent a process governed by the world's laws and magical energy.

Heroic Spirits manifested through the Throne of Heroes, while gods emerged through mythology. Both relied on a spiritual "core" or "foundation" as their essence.

Normally, these entities would vanish upon defeat, returning to their conceptual origins. Pandora's ritual, however, anchored the god's core and merged it with a human soul, birthing a Campione.

Roy now fully understood that true gods did not exist in this world. They were constructs born of human belief. When their essence descended as Heretic Gods, they became physical entities.

This paradox meant that "gods" could never appear as their true selves in the mortal realm—only as Heretic Gods.

"So, to truly annihilate gods, one would only need to erase humanity and its myths," Roy said, echoing a grim thought often repeated in the Campione series.

He wasn't interested in simple power accumulation. Roy sought to uncover the roots of existence itself. His ultimate goal was to challenge Aleister Crowley, the "glamorous father" whose shadow loomed over his destiny.

To Roy, the strength of a Campione was little more than a child's toy when measured against Aleister's immeasurable power. If he wanted to rebel against his father, he needed to turn these toys into weapons.

"Aiwass, what do you think of the inherent flaws of the Campione system?" Roy asked thoughtfully.

While Campione could ascend from mortal mediocrity to godlike status in an instant, their growth was severely limited.

No matter how many Heretic Gods they slew, their magical energy (also called divine power) remained unchanged, incapable of accumulation. Their Authorities did not evolve—they merely increased in number.

The only difference between a newly minted Campione and the oldest among them was experience and variety of Authorities. They lacked the limitless potential of continuous growth.

Roy likened the situation to a game: a Level 1 mortal suddenly jumped to Level 50 as a Campione. However, no matter how many abilities they gained, their overall strength remained capped at Level 50.

Aiwass had previously identified this as the fatal flaw of Pandora's ritual. After the first god-slaying, which granted a fundamental transformation, subsequent victories only added new Authorities, offering no qualitative improvement.

Roy found this unacceptable. Left to his own devices, he might never break through this ceiling. But with Aiwass—a being whose stature surpassed the gods of this world—he believed a solution was within reach.

"To surpass these limitations, I'll need to integrate local knowledge with my own. Only then can I refine Pandora's ritual and help you transcend this boundary," Aiwass replied.

Roy nodded. "I'm counting on you, Aiwass. I'll focus on gathering the knowledge needed to bring your ideas to life."

He knew his limitations. While Aiwass could provide the theoretical framework, Roy needed to accumulate enough foundational knowledge to apply her insights effectively.

"Using Heretic Gods as material to overcome level caps? Sounds like something straight out of a gacha game…" Roy quipped to himself, chuckling at the absurdity of the comparison.

"Well, knowledge takes time, and tasks must be handled one at a time. I should personally visit the Seven Sisters alliance. They're probably hesitating—not out of defiance, but because they're caught between two Campione: me and Salvatore Doni, the King of Swords."

Roy's lips curled into a smirk as he rose from his chair, his cardinal's robes billowing around him. His right hand rested in his pocket, and his crimson silhouette strode confidently out of the Sistine Chapel.

At the entrance, a startled priest stood frozen, wide-eyed as Roy addressed him.

"Tell me where the leaders of the Seven Sisters are. I'll meet them myself."

The priest's jaw dropped. He hadn't expected the King to act so directly.

"Yes, Your Holiness. I will inform them immediately," the priest stammered, bowing deeply as Roy swept past him, exuding the overwhelming aura of a god-slayer preparing to bend yet another force of the occult to his will.