I Accidentally Created a Villainous Organization

Chapter 69: Is There Salvation Even for a Murderous Girl? (2)

I once again turned my gaze towards the peculiar status window.

Rank of ■■

A qualification to stand above anyone in the world.

This... was definitely different.

Where there should have been something written about immunity to mental attacks, there was now a bizarre phrase. And the first two characters had been replaced by some strange symbols.

‘...This really works.’

As someone who had played the previous game, I had a feeling that if there were any hidden Easter eggs, this trait would be it. It had always been the most suspicious feature.

A trait that even worked against the final boss, the Demon Lord of Domination.

While playing, I had brushed it off as just part of the game. But if you think about it, this trait meant being superior to the final boss. That’s the reason I chose this trait in the first place.

‘Honestly, I wasn’t even paying much attention.’

Even without hidden features, immunity to mental attacks was already an incredibly powerful ability. I was fine whether it worked or not, but now, suddenly, I hit the jackpot.

Although the description of the trait was vague, the fact that it had evolved was something to celebrate.

I didn’t know exactly what had been enhanced or what benefits had been gained, but since it wasn’t losing its original capabilities, there was no downside.

‘...But why did it change?’

I’d seen traits evolve in the previous game once certain conditions were met. Unless the system had completely changed in this sequel, it was safe to assume a similar mechanic was in place.

Which meant that I must have unknowingly triggered something to evolve the trait.

But what could I have possibly done to...?

“...Ah.”

Suddenly, memories started flooding through my mind.

Recruiting powerhouses like Siel, Lien, and Miss Rubia.

Killing the archmage’s apprentice.

Illegally acquiring the fallen holy sword and other artifacts.

Hiding the revolutionaries.

Planting a spy within the Imperial army.

Creating and spreading the cult of the Black Fangs, a fraudulent religion, across the nation.

Even just the big events were piling up. Most recently, I had even declared my intention to destroy the Holy Church.

...Yeah, I had caused a lot of chaos.

It wasn’t that I couldn’t figure out the reason. It was that there were too many potential reasons.

As I was reflecting on my trail of destruction, I was interrupted by something unexpected.

“...?”

My head was already spinning with too many thoughts, but suddenly a strange light distracted me.

I looked down at the source of the light—an engraving on the back of my hand. A red, glowing, pulsing symbol.

I recognized this effect all too well. It was the tracking spell I had seen countless times in the previous game. A signal that something had gone wrong with the target.

The important thing was...

I had only cast this tracking spell on one person.

Lucy.

The Empire’s worst psychopath.

A human monster who found joy in murder. The blue-haired villainess I had encountered in the black market, the one I had seen in the spoiler threads.

If this signal was coming to me now, it meant something had happened to Lucy.

A strange intuition began to creep up on me.

It felt like something critical was happening just outside of my view.

There was only one thing I needed to do now.

I quickly threw on my robe and activated the tracking spell. The connection I had established with Lucy before—following that thread, I let my mana flow through it, and soon, her location settled into my mind.

And then... my face twisted with confusion.

‘The Grand Temple?’

Why on earth was she at the Grand Temple?

*****

Caron staggered as he rose to his feet.

The once overflowing Fountain of Miracles, brimming with divine power, had completely dried up—just as expected.

As he feared, the monster had devoured all the holy energy in such a short time. But that wasn’t all it consumed.

He could barely move his body. Even the slightest motion brought waves of excruciating pain.

Caron’s skin was now wrinkled and shriveled, and his once dark hair had turned stark white. This was the price Caron paid for touching what should never have been touched.

Once, he had been a young and successful cardinal, with the papacy all but guaranteed to him. The future that once lay so promisingly ahead of him was gone. Now, only an old, decrepit man remained.

But—

‘No…’

Caron grit his teeth. He knew he had been utterly defeated and that he had lost everything. He wasn’t foolish enough to deny that.

Yet, even so, he couldn’t let go of what he had grasped.

He refused to live out the rest of his days dying a slow death from old age.

Not after coming this far.

He couldn’t die like this.

He needed another chance.

No matter what it took, he had to find a way to rise again.

“C-Cardinal, what… what happened to you…?”

Even if that meant—

“Come to me. There’s something I need you to do.”

—reaching out to the forbidden.

The subordinate’s face turned pale with terror. He could tell from Caron’s tone and expression that something was terribly wrong.

He could sense that his life was in danger.

But Caron didn’t hesitate as he approached the man.

No matter how aged and decrepit Caron’s body had become, resistance from the subordinate was impossible. After all, the Holy Church and the Empire were bound by mutual cooperation. If one side provided the Holy Grail, the other ensured efficient means of control.

“P-Please, spare me. I… I can’t die here.”

The subordinate muttered in a trembling voice, his face drained of color. In a panic, he even pulled out a picture of his newborn child from his coat, desperately holding it up as if it could save him.

But at that moment, his fate was sealed.

Had he tried proving his usefulness instead of appealing to sentimentality, his chances of survival might have improved. There was only so much ignorance Caron could tolerate.

After all the time the subordinate had spent serving him, he still hadn’t learned a thing about Caron’s nature.

“I’m genuinely curious,” Caron interrupted the man’s desperate pleas, his voice cold and indifferent. The subordinate’s face contorted in shock.

Caron slowly stepped closer to him and asked,

“Did you really think I would care about your future or your brat’s?”

He meant it.

None of it mattered.

What did it matter if a child grew up without a father? If it guaranteed his survival, Caron wouldn’t hesitate to tear the man apart in front of the child.

As long as he could stay alive, other people’s lives were meaningless.

And so, Caron reached out his hand towards the subordinate without a moment’s hesitation, a grotesque smile spreading across his face.

At that moment, a flood of dark energy surged forth. Caron’s form was now more akin to a demon than a human.

This was the result of secret experiments he and the Pope had conducted in the shadows. Ironically, the Holy Church, which claimed to fight against demons, was the perfect place to conduct forbidden research on them.

[Give me all that you are.]

The man in front of him stared blankly at Caron, tears streaming down his face. Moments later, the Imperial slave brand on his body began to glow.

Like a puppet on strings, the man moved unnaturally and responded eagerly, grasping Caron’s outstretched hand.

A contract was sealed.

The man’s body began to dissolve. Flesh and bone melted into shadows, vanishing entirely. All that remained was his life force, which flowed directly into Caron. A sinister energy, the dark essence of a demon, radiated from Caron’s body.

Given that he was imitating a demonic contract using a human vessel, the outcome was inevitable.

Caron had always known about the potential power of such a contract, but the troublesome side effects had kept him from using it. Now, though, there was no time to worry about consequences.

There was no place for him in the Holy Church anymore. No matter how much the Pope had favored him, there was no way he would protect Caron after this.

Not only had Caron lost all the sacred relics, but he hadn’t even finished covering up the mess he had made.

Soon, not just the Pope, but representatives from other branches of the Church would come for his head.

‘I will survive. No matter what it takes.’

He would live and wait for the next opportunity, whenever it might come.

Caron moved towards the secret passage that led to the Grand Temple. With a twisted smile, he climbed the stairs, hopeful that by draining the life force of those at the top, he might restore his former self.

And then... his face contorted in shock.

What he saw before him was beyond belief.

The beautiful statues of the gods were drenched in red. The pungent smell of blood hung heavy in the air. The entire temple was defiled, stained with human flesh and blood.

An unthinkable sight.

Why? How?

Like a fleeting memory, a conversation from Caron’s past flashed through his mind. A discussion he’d had with a man he had once disposed of:

“The gods are watching your vile deeds. One day, you’ll face the consequences for what you’ve done.”

“Haven’t you realized yet? There are no gods. And without gods, there is no divine punishment.”

Caron had laughed as he watched the man die. No matter what he did, divine retribution had never come.

There were beings that granted power in exchange for faith, but they didn’t distinguish between good and evil.

If that was the case, then they weren’t gods—they were machines. And machines existed to be used by humans.

That belief had allowed Caron to live with such confidence, convinced that no divine punishment would ever come for him.

But now...

“Found you.“

Looking back, he realized that he had been half right and half wrong.

There was no benevolent god of light. No god had come to smite Caron for his sins.

But there was still punishment.

Footsteps echoed through the blood-soaked temple, announcing the approach of death.

“Now it’s just you and me.”

A blue-haired girl, soaked in blood from head to toe, stood before him, tears streaming down her face as she stared at Caron.

...Punishment had come for him.

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