# Enhanced Translation
The darkness receded and dawn arrived. The sun rose over the highest spire of Orbis, casting long beams of light through the ornate stained glass.
Shadows from the stained glass fell across the sacred reliquary. The lives of saints and holy figures throughout the church's long history emerged in different forms as the sun's direction changed.
The old man who had been kneeling with clasped hands through the long night suddenly raised his head at the sound of knocking.
"Your Holiness... I apologize. We failed to track down the sinner."
"I see..."
The old man answered with what seemed like a long sigh and nodded. The dark circles under the visiting monk's eyes revealed how many had struggled through the previous night.
"Go and rest. We'll announce the council's decision tomorrow. Today, let us take time to pray for the sinner's transgressions. You've worked hard."
"Yes, Your Holiness."
The monk bowed deeply and withdrew. When the door closed, the prayer room fell silent once more. The old man bit his sunken cheek firmly and rolled his rosary beads with his withered fingers.
Click, click. With each turn of the rosary and sacred objects beneath his hands, he recited one verse of the Lord's Prayer. The rosary carved from rosewood had worn down over the years, its engravings barely visible anymore.
"Lord..."
This rosary had been with him since he first began his clerical life as a junior priest. From the time when the Lord's peace filled all creation until now, he had offered prayers with the same heart.
But now the Lord no longer answered him.
"Did you call me, Lucius?"
"Silence."
A shadow writhed and spoke to him. A strong musk scent wafted through the air, and for a moment, the sunlight beneath the stained glass twisted into a purple hue.
His hand holding the rosary felt as if it were holding a fair lady's palm, and his heart began to beat violently, pumping blood toward his extremities.
Even amid the thick fragrance, Pope Lucius III's eyes remained heavily downcast.
"You lost the Saintess. Oh my, things have become complicated, Lucius. Didn't I tell you we should have killed her beforehand?"
"Hold your tongue, harlot."
"My, are you going to claim you never intended to kill her? Isn't that a bit shameless?"
The shadow writhed and licked the Pope's ear. Hot, moist breath seeped into his ear canal. When gentle hands embraced his shoulders, he almost rose from his seat involuntarily.
Yet the Pope continued rolling his rosary with his eyes closed.
"Or... just say the word? Just one word is enough. 'Do it.' Not even formal speech. Not even a request. Just a simple command. If you just say that... I'll lift the veil and fulfill all your dreams?"
"Almighty Lord, guide our thoughts, words, and actions toward Your peace today as well."
"Don't forget the joy and praise of eternal life! Don't worry, I can give you that."
"To our Lord belongs power and glory, wisdom and strength, may He receive thanks and worship forever."
"Ah, there are ten thousand blessings and ten thousand joys in this world, why do you seek compassion from a silent dictator?"
The shadow's whispers pierced his heart like needles. Now that divine power had vanished, humans had to overcome demonic whispers with nothing but their own convictions.
The Pope moved his trembling hand to roll the rosary. Click, click. Even as the sound echoed in his ears like a woman's lustful heels.
"You need only ask, and I shall fulfill it. Lucius. You pitiful old man. I will give you eternal youth, pleasure, and glory. If you wish, I'll bestow the same blessing upon your 'priests.' Speak. Say my name and tell me what you desire."
"Harlot. You cannot obtain faith from me."
"Oh, you boring old man."
With a whoosh, the shadow disappeared. Far away, a purple curtain draped over the reliquary. Beneath the curtain, the silhouette of a slender woman appeared, sitting with her legs crossed.
Soon, red eyes opened beneath it.
"So what's the plan now? According to the original plan, by now you should have executed the Saintess and negotiated with Krasilov."
"Why are you so fixated on Krasilov?"
"Because the only ones who can draw swords against me in this land are in that country."
The shadow giggled.
"Anyway, our goals are the same. We must stop the Demon King."
"Lord."
"It's too late for regrets now. Little one. If you were going to be like this, you shouldn't have joined hands with me."
"My sin is mine alone. I will atone before the heavenly Lord by myself, so stop tempting my priests."
"Really now, did I tempt them? They were tempted on their own."
At the brazen voice, Lucius gritted his teeth and glared at the shadow. After staring at the shadow for a while, the Pope lowered his gaze weakly.
"The Demon King was a boring madman. A quiet, dry lunatic. Goodness, what fun is there in killing all humans?"
The shadow happily chattered on her own, waving her hands cheerfully.
"So we must stop the Demon King. From my friends who are running wild claiming their time has come, lost in divine games. Wretches, calling themselves gods yet trying to create gods to pray to."
The shadow's hand emerged through the curtain. The tip of her snow-white finger rested on the Pope's chest. Thump, thump. Gently following the rhythm of his heartbeat.
"Find and kill the Saintess, negotiate with Krasilov, and tear my brothers to pieces. Destroy Tilles and behead the Demon King. Subjugate all countries of this land under the name of the church... and afterward, you could become the greatest saint of this land, eternally praised."
"Afterward, I will lay down my burden and go to the Lord as a sinner."
The old man opened his eyes, pushing away her hand. Beneath his aged eyes, a fierce light was flashing.
"Harlot. I have not dared to consider this position my glory for even a moment. Finding and killing that poor child is my sin, and the corruption of this land is all due to my lack of virtue. Speak no more wickedly. You will obtain nothing from me with your prattle."
The woman smirked and then scattered into shadows. Until the very end, she whispered into the Pope's ear, blowing a breeze.
"We'll see about that."
After the woman's presence completely vanished, only the initial dry paper smell remained in the prayer room. The Pope once again knelt before the reliquary and rolled his rosary.
"Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked, nor stand in the way of sinners..."
He remembered the day Patricia first took her vow of chastity. With tiny hands fidgeting, she held his hand tightly and received baptism while whimpering.
"Nor sit in the seat of the scornful..."
She gave her clothes to the naked and cultivated fields for the hungry. She never put rich food in her mouth throughout her life, nor lay in comfortable places.
She lived only revering the Lord's law. Thus she became a bishop, thus she rose to cardinal, thus she became Pope. Yet he considered this a responsibility rather than glory.
"But his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on His law he meditates day and night."
When the Demon King emerged, he tried to stop Patricia. How could a mere twenty-year-old girl go? Knowing what hardships she would face in the land of death and oblivion.
But she chose that path. Receiving unprecedented grace, she finally became a Saintess and stood beside the Hero.
Ten years later, the Demon King died. During those ten years, he offered 3,650 prayers. Please let that child return safely. Please watch over this land so that the Lord's peace may be with us.
Have mercy on us.
"He shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that brings forth its fruit in its season..."
The Demon King died. Peace arrived. The child said she would teach what she had learned during that time and departed for a distant northern country.
Praise be to her faithfulness and purity. He smiled, vowing that regardless of what decision the conclave made, he would nominate her as the next Pope.
"Whose leaf also shall not wither..."
Divine power disappeared.
The church collapsed, and crowds threw stones at the priests.
Your corruption has defiled this land, so the Lord has abandoned us!
Thus there was division within the church. Priests suspected priests, and believers turned daggers against believers. The church was no longer universal, unique, or pure.
As the father of all churches, he prayed to the Lord. There was no answer.
Then, a demon whispered to him.
-There are those who seek to resurrect the Demon King. Prepare. Make a decision for the world. Join hands with me. I will grant you divine power. With this power, persuade all who oppose your will, and with united strength, stand firm against them.
-I too do not wish for the Demon King's return. I do not wish for the world's destruction. So, are we not comrades with a common purpose?
The Saintess canonized a theology student as a 'Saint.' She said the disappearance of divine power was due to the world's corruption and prophesied about coming tribulations.
That prophecy... the prophecy that Droan would fall, the church would divide, and the Demon King would return... was so similar to the future the demon had whispered...
-Kill the Saintess. Put her on the scaffold and make her a sinner. When there is division, if one appears bearing original sin, the group will naturally unite. To gather strength, hang your most beloved disciple.
"And whatever he does shall prosper..."
Throb. His fingertips stopped rolling the rosary. A splinter from the rosewood rosary had deeply pierced his thumb.
A drop of blood flowed.
"Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is discord, unity;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is error, truth;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light..."
The prayers continued endlessly, but God did not answer him.
"Excommunicate Equitania and summon the Templars."
For the peace needed in the land of humans must be won by humans.
"Capture the witch and burn her at the stake, kill the false prophet. Tell all secular kings. There is no truth outside the Lord's will, and all believers in this land must become one."
And at the end, he would bear and atone for the remaining sins alone.
"Only this is what the Lord desires (Deus Vult)."
At the end of the final prayer, the demon's sharp laughter echoed in his ears.