Virus King [Translation]

The Vatican—a small city merely two hundred kilometers from Florence, yet it stood as one of the central pillars of the entire Western world.

At the heart of the Holy Roman Empire, in the Papal States where politics and religion intertwined seamlessly, this sacred ground held its unwavering position. Every day, legions of devout believers journeyed from all corners of the Kepler, driven by the fervor of pilgrimage, to reach the holy land of their faith. It was here, in this city bathed in divine light, where they hoped to encounter the representatives of their God, the ones chosen to speak His will on Kepler.

But today, the grand cathedral, normally regarded as a beacon of purity by these devout followers, was cloaked in a palpable darkness. Fourteen figures sat around a long table, shrouded in the flickering glow of the cross's light. Even the brilliance of the divine seemed unable to pierce the gloom that weighed heavily upon the assembly.

At the head of the table, an elderly man draped in a white and gold robe bore an expression twisted with uncertainty. His face, once resolute, now reflected a deep inner turmoil.

The Crusades, launched under the banner of God, had failed to reclaim the Holy Land. Instead, they had brought back a terrible plague that had ravaged the entire Western continent. The devastation had dimmed the once-glorious power of the Church.

Even within the Papal States, even here in the very heart of Rome, doubts were festering. People had begun to question the authority of the Holy See and, even worse, the divine majesty of God Himself. Such heresy was an unfathomable blow to the Church's foundation.

Yet, for the gathered council, another issue weighed more heavily on their minds.

"Have you all heard of this 'Plague Sect'?"

The Pope's voice broke through the tense silence, his gaze sweeping across the table. The other figures—eleven cardinals dressed in scarlet, alongside the head of the Inquisition and the leader of the Knights Templar—shifted uncomfortably. This was the highest authority within the Church, convened to address an escalating crisis.

The tall, muscular captain of the Knights Templar rose, fist placed over his heart in a show of unwavering loyalty.

"Any heresy will be purged under the watchful eyes of the true God. The Knights Templar stand ready to clear away all obstacles in His name. Your Holiness, give the order, and we shall act."

The Pope gave an approving nod, but before he could respond, a cardinal spoke up from his seat.

"However, Your Holiness, it is said that the Plague Sect has somehow managed to halt the spread of the plague. Reports from Florence claim that the city is now free of the disease."

As murmurs spread around the table, the cardinal quickly added, aware of the skeptical gazes now turned on him.

"Of course, this must be the work of heresy, stealing the Lord's divine authority. We should reclaim this power for our Lord, restore His glory to the world, and return all honor and authority to the Holy See!"

Only then did the rest of the people withdraw their gazes, and the face of the pope above him regained his solemnity and coldness.

"There's no rush to purge the Plague Church," he began, his voice firm and commanding. "As Cardinal Michelle stated, reclaiming the authority and glory of our Lord must be our top priority. And now, my Lord has bestowed upon me His divine guidance."

His eyes gleamed with purpose. "The heretics have already come to the gates of Rome. The true God has spoken—these blasphemers will understand His omnipotence only after they are purified in His name!"

Turning to the captain of the knights, the Pope's voice hardened. "Zoto! Gather the knights loyal to our Lord. I grant you permission to wield the Spear of Longinus itself. Under the watchful eyes of God, use it to reclaim His power and sanctify this land once more."

Zoto saluted with a resolute, "Yes, Your Holiness!"

---

Meanwhile, in Rome—a city not the capital of the Holy Roman Empire but still one of its greatest strongholds—stood the heart of the Holy See's power. Its streets bustled with life, the population ever-growing and its influence unquestionable. 

And now, Novak gazed upon this very city.

Rome had captured his interest, but his purpose was clear. Having arrived in this medieval Western world several days ago, Novak was ready for a long, arduous fight. To him, the sacrifices were worth it, as long as he could acquire the elusive SSS-level job transfer scroll. Time, though unpredictable here, meant little to him in the grand scheme of things.

He had not yet realized that, under the effects of the Time Hourglass, the flow of time in the outside world had become drastically different from the temporal shifts inside this secret realm.

The Western continent was vast. Even with his extraordinary constitution and blinding speed, gathering all the seeds of the plague by himself was a monumental task. It was clear that the formation of the Plague Church was inevitable, especially since the Holy Roman Empire and the Frankish territories were the most devastated by the Black Death. But with the Holy See being the greatest obstacle, their resistance was bound to be formidable.

If the Church's opposition could be crushed, the spread of the Plague Church would become significantly easier.

In the streets of Rome, a wealthy merchant, having witnessed the miracles of Novak, knelt on the ground, weeping in gratitude. "My Lord! You, the Creator who saves all! I offer all my wealth to build Your church here in Rome, so that the countless souls You have saved may sing Your praises forever!"

Novak simply smiled, sensing the growth of the plague seed in his hand. He regarded the merchant with a serene look. "The plague spreads everywhere. All who stand with my children are already my people. Whether or not there is a church matters little."

He stepped outside the merchant's home.

Dressed in a dark green robe, Novak had, in less than two days, become something of a legend among both the rich and poor in Rome. His miracles needed no gold; his blessings cared not for social standing. Wherever he went, true healing followed. He was not just a man offering hope—he was, in their eyes, a god incarnate.

But Rome was not like the other cities he had passed through.

Only a short distance from Rome was the Vatican, the stronghold of the Holy See. Here, the Church's rule was absolute. Nearly all were devout followers of the Holy See of Light. Here, a papal decree held more power than even the emperor's edict or the might of his armies.

Thus, as Novak walked through the once-bustling streets, they fell eerily silent. The crowds that had gathered moments earlier seemed to vanish, replaced by silver-armored knights marching toward him. These were the Holy See's knights, dispatched to defend their faith.

Yet, under the gaze of the Roman citizens, Novak—whom they believed to be the true God walking among them—showed no fear. On the contrary, he strode forward calmly, as though the knights were invisible to him. His path led him deeper into the heart of Rome, directly toward its very center.

There, in the grand square, stood a massive cross—a symbol of the Church's authority and the site of countless executions of so-called heretics. Today, the air was charged with anticipation, as the people of Rome watched in confusion and disbelief.

They had seen this god-like figure heal their sickness and save their loved ones. And yet, now, their deeply ingrained faith in the Holy See began to stir, conflicting with the miracle worker standing before them.

The time for judgment had come. The Holy See would wield its sacred weapon, the Spear of Longinus—a revered relic in the hands of the Knights Templar, once praised by many. This holy artifact, blessed by countless prayers, would be the instrument of Novak's fate.

Yet, even as the tide of righteousness swelled around him, one thing became strikingly clear—there was no unified hatred among the people. The confusion in their hearts, the wavering of their faith, told a different story altogether.