— — — — — —
On the high ground at Rome's northwest corner stood the Papal States.
Barely half a square kilometer in size, this tiny city-state was still the spiritual heart of over two billion believers worldwide.
And today, that sacred heart was about to receive three very unwelcome guests.
"I regret this already."
Under the blazing sun, Alice sat on a bench, parasol in hand, wearing a white dress with a light shawl, and let out a heartfelt groan. "I really shouldn't have come here in person."
"Please hold on a bit longer, Princess Alice. Just three more locations to set up, and we'll be done." Liliana kept her voice low as she reminded her.
Here they were, in the very core of the Papal States—the headquarters of the world's largest religious and magical organization.
Trying to infiltrate a place like this was enough to make Liliana's shoulders tense with pressure.
"Relax, Liliana. There's nothing to worry about."
Alice waved her hand airily.
"After Marquis Voban clashed with the Papal States back in the 18th century, they might still look powerful in the secular world, but in the magical one? They've been declining for ages."
"If we were ranking magic societies by strength, they'd be nothing more than a second-rate association, below the Seven Sisters of Italy."
Liliana still looked uneasy and quietly added,
"But this 'second-rate association' still has the most divine artifacts in the world."
Alice laughed softly. "Come on, Liliana. The activation conditions for those relics are ridiculously strict. And even if they manage to trigger them, that only works to our advantage."
A sly, satisfied smile spread across her face.
"After all, the whole point of this operation is to force them to use those divine artifacts—and in doing so, lure a god down into the world."
"And besides…"
Alice turned her gaze toward Ryo, who was enjoying an ice cream cone nearby, and smiled sweetly. "Let's not forget we've got the biggest trump card of all sitting right here~"
With Ryo present, what did a Papal counterattack matter?
Even a god descending would just be another challenge for him to crush—nothing more than another dish on the table.
And once the summoning ritual truly began, the Papal States would be far too busy dealing with the catastrophe to think about chasing them down.
"..."
At that moment, Ryo set aside his now-empty cone and asked casually, "Break time's over. Ready to move?"
"Yes, my King."
Liliana rose immediately to her feet.
"Oh?" Ryo raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on his lips.
"What did we agree you'd call me before we came here?" Liliana froze, then her cheeks flushed scarlet.
"I… I know. R… Ryo."
The moment the words left her lips, she buried her face in her hands.
"My, my. Liliana, you're so easy to fluster."
Alice stood and naturally looped her arm through Ryo's right arm, beaming.
"Come on, dear. Let's go take a stroll through the chapel."
The casual way Alice used such an intimate address made Liliana's face burn even hotter.
"…Shameless," she muttered under her breath.
She'd never even called Ryo something that affectionate, yet Alice just tossed it out like it was the most natural thing in the world.
So what if she was a princess? She was a latecomer!
Liliana glared at Alice with resentment.
No way could she ever be as brazen as this woman.
Just then, Ryo raised his free hand toward her and said, "Lily, my left side's still open."
"…Since you put it that way." Liliana wore the expression of someone following a royal command she simply couldn't refuse, and linked her arm with his.
The nearby priests, nuns, and tourists who caught sight of the scene froze for a moment.
The elderly women muttered darkly under their breath, the men looked green with envy, and the younger women openly stared at Ryo's face.
"Isn't this a little… conspicuous?"
Liliana could practically feel all the stares stabbing into her like needles.
Weren't they supposed to be sneaking around setting up a ritual? This was anything but subtle.
"If it bothers you so much, Liliana, you could always let go," Alice said with a playful smile.
Liliana puffed out her cheeks, glaring back.
This was the princess she'd looked up to for so long, the senior witch she respected so much—someone chosen by the same king she followed.
So why did she have the exact same personality as Erica?
At the center of it all, Ryo simply said calmly, "Let's go."
"Yes!" the two witches answered in unison.
Under the curious gazes of the crowd, the trio headed toward the nearby chapel.
---
Meanwhile...
Erica, dressed in a red battle outfit, stood beside Athena, gazing across the Tiber River at the Papal States with a wry smile.
"To summon a god right here, inside the city of Rome… the King really has given me quite the headache."
The Copper-Black Cross was an Italian magic society—her family's association. In other words, Ryo was about to summon a living disaster right in her own backyard.
For Erica, it felt like being stuck between two impossible choices.
The wind tugged at Athena's silver hair as the goddess spoke in her usual calm tone. "It is precisely because your heart is more conflicted than that other witch's that you were placed at my side."
Erica froze for a moment, then gave a bitter little laugh. "I've already given him everything, and the King still doesn't trust me?"
"You're mistaken."
Athena's dark eyes remained fixed on the Papal States in the distance.
"He trusts you—that's why he left you here. To give you the chance to stop me."
Erica blinked, then let out a helpless sigh.
With her power to cast Golgotha that could slay gods, if she acted at the critical moment, she could indeed stop Athena and cause the summoning ritual to fail.
Athena turned her head slightly, her voice soft as she asked, "Then let me ask you this, in his place. Whose side will you choose, Erica Blandelli?"
Erica's lips trembled, then she let out a defeated little laugh.
"Guess I'm going to be homeless after this. If the King ever lets me down, he'd better watch out—because I'll bite back every single time I get pushed around."
Athena chuckled at that, the corners of her mouth curling up slightly. "An amusing answer."
Then, her expression turned solemn. "Let me give you an answer in return."
She reached out into the air, grasping at the void, and dragged out a massive, chain-bound figure—a towering giant who radiated raw power.
Erica's eyes widened in disbelief. "Melqart…? But he's supposed to be dead—!"
Athena's lips curved in a small smile. "The destruction will be confined to the Papal States. That is the promise he gives you."
As her words fell, a beam of light shot from the distant Papal States.
In this world, only the Pope, his chosen successors, and Athena herself knew the secret technique that turned its victims into puppets.
...
In the Papal States, Melqart snapped awake.
He tore the chains around him apart as if they were paper, storm clouds and roaring wind gathering around him as he let out a thunderous roar.
Lightning crashed down in sheets, striking the city below.
In an instant, glowing magic circles appeared across the Papal States, forming concentric halos that blocked the raging storm.
"What's going on? Why is it suddenly thundering?"
"Why is it so dark all of a sudden?"
"What was that roar just now?"
Panic spread through the city as confusion erupted.
Then, a piercing hymn rang out.
White feathers drifted down from the sky, settling on everyone's heads.
The panicked citizens' eyes rolled back, and one by one they collapsed to the ground.
And in the storm-filled sky above—
A burning figure with wings raised a crimson sword to the heavens.
The Archangel Michael—
—descending upon the world as a heretic god.
.
.
.