Suicide Before Defeating the Final Boss

Suicide Before Defeating the Final Boss – 112

EP.112 Conquering the Demon World Part 2

Reltra’s face turned pale as she tried to stammer out a response to Jeong-hyeon’s provocative comment. Her hands shot up, trying to silence him, but Jeong-hyeon easily dodged her effort.

“What? Was I not supposed to say that?” Jeong-hyeon teased, his smug grin only fueling Reltra’s flustered state.

Reltra’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Before she could recover, Jeong-hyeon slipped out of the room, waving a hand over his shoulder.

“I’ll be back soon.”

Behind him, the room fell into a tense silence, broken only by a frigid voice cutting through the air.

“Would someone care to explain what that was about?”

Jeong-hyeon didn’t need to turn around to picture the chaos he’d left behind. Instead, he focused on the path ahead, his mind already planning his next steps.

‘First, I’ll need a guide. Then I’ll deal with the remaining dukes.’

He walked with purpose, considering who might be best suited for the task at hand.

***

Elsewhere, in the heart of the Church, the Pope stood before the shattered remains of a once-majestic goddess statue. Her flowing robes whispered faintly as she shifted her weight, gazing up at the ruin with an expression caught between amusement and disdain.

Once, the statue had symbolized divine glory, so radiant that even glancing at it had felt like an act of worship. Now, the crumbled remnants served as a grim reminder of the terror attack that had desecrated the holy grounds.

A faint, sardonic smile tugged at the Pope’s lips.

‘An eyesore now, isn’t it?’

Turning her gaze from the broken idol, she faced the high priests gathered before her. Their faces were taut with tension, their silence heavy with expectation.

“…Thus, we must elect a new Paladin to restore the Church’s glory. Do any of you have recommendations?”

The high priests exchanged uneasy glances, their postures stiffening under her piercing gaze. One by one, their heads bowed, as if weighed down by an invisible force.

The Pope’s eyes swept over the room before falling to a stack of documents on a nearby table. Each one bore a list of recommended candidates for the position of Paladin, painstakingly compiled by the priests.

With a deliberate motion, she picked up the stack and tossed it into the holy brazier at her side. The papers ignited instantly, flames devouring them with a voracious hiss.

“No one, then?”

The silence stretched on, thick with unspoken frustration.

“To think there’s not a single worthy candidate among us. A tragic reality indeed,” she remarked, her voice tinged with mockery.

Though their expressions betrayed their discontent, the priests remained silent. The rigid hierarchy of the Church demanded absolute deference, leaving no room for dissent.

The Pope observed their reactions with a faint smile before continuing, her tone growing colder.

“War grows harsher and more relentless by the day, yet we lack a leader to rally our holy knights. It is a failure of the Church, one that demands immediate action.”

Though her words carried urgency, her earlier dismissal of their recommendations left the priests skeptical. They exchanged furtive glances, their frustration simmering beneath composed exteriors.

“Enough for today,” the Pope concluded, turning sharply. Her crimson cape swirled behind her as she exited the chamber.

***

Later, in the privacy of her chambers, one of her closest confidants cautiously approached her.

“Your Holiness, why did you… make such a statement during the meeting?”

The Pope turned, her sharp gaze softening only slightly as she met her advisor’s eyes.

“Because I intend to select the Paladin myself,” she replied matter-of-factly.

“…I beg your pardon? The authority to choose a Paladin has always been yours alone, Your Holiness—”

“It’s my choice, is it?”

With a faint smile, the Pope offered a brief retort.

“Why do you think my selection is entirely my own when I’m restricted to the names on these recommendation lists?”

At her pointed remark, Cardinal Geln quickly closed his mouth and bowed his head, his expression uneasy. Watching him, the Pope’s lips curled into a faint, composed smile before she continued.

“Anyway, what’s important now isn’t the process, but deciding who will serve as the Paladin, correct?”

Seizing the shift in focus like a dog chasing a bone, Cardinal Geln eagerly dove into the topic.

“Y-Yes! Since Duke Pamur of the Demon Realm has demanded a Paladin as part of the contract, it’s essential to select one as soon as possible and ensure they’re trained thoroughly in preparation for future negotiations…”

“Training, you say?”

The Pope’s quiet interruption made him realize his misstep. His face stiffened, and he hastily clamped his mouth shut.

Watching his reaction, the Pope let out a short, dry laugh.

“In all my years, this is the first time I’ve heard someone suggest training a Paladin after their selection.”

The position of Paladin was the very embodiment of the Church’s might. It wasn’t a title granted to someone with potential or someone who could be shaped into the role—it was bestowed only upon those already perfected in their strength and character. The notion of “training” a Paladin was fundamentally flawed.

‘What a ridiculous thought.’

Turning toward him, she decided it was time to address the heart of the matter.

“Cardinal Geln, how much do you know about the Vow of Sacrifice?”

“The Vow of Sacrifice?” His expression shifted as he struggled to recall. “I understand it’s one of the Church’s taboos—offering countless lives as sacrifices to create a weapon of war.”

“My, you’re well-informed,” she replied, her tone light yet pointed.

“Yes, well, I once worked closely with the priests assigned to oversee such rituals. But why do you ask?”

Though his expression revealed a flicker of understanding, it seemed he was desperately clinging to denial. The Pope decided to shatter that denial with a direct answer.

“To create a substitute for the Paladin through the Vow of Sacrifice,” she said calmly.

“…What?”

Cardinal Geln stared at her, stunned. She returned his gaze evenly and began to elaborate.

“What we need right now is a Paladin whose strength is unmatched. Through the Vow of Sacrifice, we can create a being whose power reaches the pinnacle.”

“T-This is outrageous! The Vow of Sacrifice creates a weapon of war—yes—but the process requires an unthinkable number of lives! Even if we overlook the ethical implications, the resulting creation has an unbearably short lifespan!”

Having witnessed the devastating costs of invoking the Vow of Sacrifice, Cardinal Geln trembled as he vehemently opposed the idea.

The Pope, however, remained composed as she responded.

“…Cardinal Geln, it’s regrettable, but we have no other choice. The frontlines are in disarray, the war is pushing us to the brink, and the Hero—a supposed savior—has shown no interest in aiding the world.”

The Pope briefly wondered how Cardinal Geln would react if he ever discovered that the recent terrorist attack had been the Hero’s doing. Pushing the thought aside, she continued speaking.

“Given the circumstances, it falls to us in this generation to resolve the situation ourselves. We must create a Paladin as powerful as possible to bring this war to an end.”

“But… the Vow of Sacrifice demands too many lives to be sacrificed…”

“Naturally. The Vow of Sacrifice is, by definition, a taboo ritual that exchanges countless lives for unparalleled power.”

Despite its brutality, the Pope decided to bring up the reason why the Church of the previous generation had resorted to using it in secrecy.

“Even so, as you’re well aware, Cardinal Geln, the Church conducted this ritual in secret during the last war because it was the most effective way to reduce the number of casualties.”

Indeed, in the previous war, the Vow of Sacrifice had decisively turned the tide, saving countless lives. Having witnessed this outcome firsthand, Cardinal Geln could only lower his head, unable to muster a response.

“Cardinal Geln, collect yourself. We’ve already endured two wars. More than anyone, you understand that no other method is as effective as this one.”

“……”

“The longer you hesitate, the greater the number of lives that must be sacrificed. So, isn’t it time to accept reality?”

At her words, he shut his eyes tightly, his expression conflicted, before finally responding.

“…Understood. However, there is one issue.”

“And what might that be?”

“To create a being as powerful as a Paladin, we’ll need individuals with exceptional talent. This means sacrificing the Holy Knights currently in service. If we do that, the frontlines will…”

“Is that truly necessary?”

“…Pardon?”

“If all we need is talent, there are better offerings available. Why sacrifice the Holy Knights unnecessarily?”

Her remark left him staring at her in confusion. Seeing his reaction, she offered a succinct explanation.

“The families of fallen Paladins—while they may not have realized their full potential—surely carry the same inherent talent, don’t you think?”

Divine power, after all, was an innate gift. It stood to reason that the relatives of deceased Paladins would possess a similar aptitude.

“Why not use them as the sacrifices?”

“…That would be far too cruel, wouldn’t it?”

“Cruel? We’re talking about saving the world. Why use such a word for something so noble?”

Though he looked at her with an expression of inner conflict, it wasn’t long before he tightly shut his eyes and spoke again.

“…Very well.”

“Surely the families of the Paladins would be proud. To follow in their fallen kin’s footsteps and have the chance to save the world—that must be an honor.”

“…Yes.”

Though Cardinal Geln’s face grew visibly somber, the Pope ignored it. Instead, she allowed herself a quiet smile as she envisioned the benefits this would bring.

‘If the Vow of Sacrifice succeeds, and we create a new Paladin…’

With such a weapon, the dire circumstances they faced could finally be reversed.