The Demon King Seems to Conquer the World

Chapter 244: The Papal Residence*

New chapter of The Demon King is out! (1/2 chapters)

Pope Pilato II sat in his office chair at the papal residence, gazing out the window. His birth name was Verdandio Deora Galganelli, and he had chosen the rare name Pilato for his papal title. He disliked the common names like Petris XIII or Orteus XVIII.

Pilato, known for his fervent appeals for retrials, had saved the life of Isus in Pentas when he was a magistrate, later sanctified. He was revered as a patron saint of lawyers, judges, and wrongful prisoners, though he was not a direct disciple of Isus. Records outside the canon mention a Pentas magistrate receiving baptism, which led to the official view associating it with Pilato.

Due to his remarkable deeds, he was a popular saint. However, he disliked having what could be considered a flaw, hence his unpopular papal name.  Nonetheless, Verdandio, who had risen through the ranks of the Pontifical Judicial Department, had a strong preference for Saint Pilato, so he chose his name as pope. In his 18 years as pope, he had never been criticized or disadvantaged.

Pope Pilato II, now 63, sat in his chair in the study, feeling melancholic. Naturally, the time to end his duties had passed, and he remained here for a distressing task. His nephew, the son of his unworthy younger brother, was returning. Pilato II had stayed to welcome him.

Negotiations with the Albio Republic’s envoy had decided on a staggering sum of 4 million Ilfis gold coins as ransom. Though exorbitant for a non-royal’s ransom, the wealthy Papal States treasury could afford it. Since appointing Epitaph Palazzo as Grand Marshal, Pope Pilato II had no choice but to pay the ransom.

*Knock, knock*

Someone knocked on the door.

“Your Holiness, Epitaph Palazzo is here.” (??)

“Yes.” (??)

moment later the door opened, and a strange figure appeared. From the neck down he was dressed in a black monk’s robe, but his face was completely bandaged. He appeared to suffer from a skin ailment.

“Your Holiness, I have returned.” (Epitaph)

Epitaph Palazzo knelt on the floor, bowed his head against the cobblestones, performing the act of striking his head as a sign of respect. His voice sounded slightly hoarse, but it was undoubtedly Pilato II’s nephew.

“I apologize for my inadequate strength and failure to meet God’s expectations, suffering a shameful defeat. I am deeply sorry.” (Epitaph)

“Welcome back. Lift your head.” (Pilato)

Pilato II spoke, and Epitaph raised his head and stood up.

“…Welcome back. And what happened to your face?” (Pilato)

“No, it’s not something I should show…” (Epitaph)

Blood began to seep from the bandages he had struck against his forehead. Epitaph had not struck his head hard enough to crack it open. Pilato II understood the gist of what had happened.

The report mentioned that Epitaph had tattoos on his face. While the exact details were unknown, it seemed they were words meant to unsettle the emotionally unstable nephew. During the handover at the port, he was given a mirror for the first time and reportedly became greatly distressed. The term “distressed” was an understatement. In reality, he had gone mad.

In essence, he had scratched at the tattoos, leading to the bleeding from his head.

“I’ve heard about the tattoos. What a cruel thing.” (Pilato)

Pilato II sympathized sincerely.

After all, having paid an exorbitant ransom, there was no clause allowing for facial tattoos. The Albio Republic’s representative had argued that the deal was only about physical integrity, but there were norms to consider beyond the contract. Though they were merely despicable pirates, expecting anything from them was futile. Nonetheless, as someone who had paid a fortune, Pilato II was inclined to demand at least half back.

“What kind of insults were carved?” (Pilato)

“…Insults.” (Epitaph)

Epitaph grinded his teeth audibly enough for Pilato II to hear from a distance. There was a grating sound of teeth chattering. Due to the bandages, his complexion was unreadable, but his lips twitched strangely.

“I was insulted… engraved with insults. Unlivable.” (Epitaph)

“…I see. It must have been tough.” (Pilato)

Pilato II felt sorry for him. At this rate, there was no future for him.

“Oh, Your Holiness… Uncle… What kind words…” (Epitaph)

Epitaph bowed deeply, expressing his gratitude. Pilato II did not want to be called “uncle.” It still irked him to think that his brother, who had been nothing more than a prodigal son to their father, had been so cherished. With good looks and a tall, slender frame, qualities absent in Pilato II, his brother had been blessed. However, Pilato II possessed intellect and patience.

Thus, alongside theological studies at seminary, he pursued law and excelled, making notable achievements in the judiciary. As a legal administrator, he earned the qualifications of a cardinal and was elected pope in the second conclave.

The younger brother was a total dissipator, and when his father loved him and left him a generous inheritance, he used the inheritance to live an excessive life of dissipation and was killed by a prostitute. His son, too, had inherited both the tall stature and handsome face. It reminded Pilato II of his brother. However, others did not see the Pope’s nephew as they did anyone else. He had been promoted without request, becoming the prime candidate for Grand Marshal.

Pilato II had never considered his brother as anything more than a sibling, nor had he considered his nephew as family.

“Enough. However, I have disposed of your estate. It was allocated partially as ransom.” (Pilato)

“Yes! Of course, I have no objections.” (Epitaph)

It was a natural course of action, so there was no issue. Normally, his wife or steward would handle such tasks, but he was prepared to be compensated.

“Of the 4 million Ilfis gold coins, only 520,000 were available. The majority of the money came from the Papal States treasury. You should be grateful.” (Pilato)

However, Pilato II harbored a slight unease. His brother’s tendencies were licentious, but his nephew’s were morbid. Regarding which was more reprehensible, that depended on the person, but in Pilato II’s view, the latter was of poorer quality. A man who seeks extreme pleasure versus one who makes a hobby of tormenting and killing animals alive. Which was worse?

The former was merely an exaggerated form of the carnal desires inherent in humans, but the latter was the deranged mind of a sadistic murderer. It was unsettling, possessing desires beyond natural human urges.

Epitaph had been left penniless, making it difficult for him to afford the increasingly expensive demon slaves. Of course, kidnapping or murdering others’ slaves was illegal, leaving him without an outlet for his desires. Pilato II worried about where Epitaph’s unique inclinations might lead him. While he cared little for Epitaph’s fate, as his nephew, there was a possibility that it could reflect poorly on Pilato II under certain circumstances.

“Of course. I’m extremely grateful…” (Epitaph)

“So, what are you going to do now?” (Pilato)

“Huh…?” (Epitaph)

Epitaph seemed not to understand the meaning. Pilato II was about to discuss Epitaph’s future.

“At this point, why not take a little rest? The abbot of the Daminica Monastery is absent. It might be a good opportunity to heal your mind and body—” (Pilato)

“What are you suggesting?!” (Epitaph)

With an excited demeanor, Epitaph suddenly approached Pilate II and slammed his desk with both arms.

BANG—the sound echoed loudly.

“I am the Grand Marshal of the Volunteering Knights! I alone will crush the demon’s army!!” (Epitaph)

Epitaph shouted at the top of his lungs.

For Pilato II, who preferred tranquility, this was a rude action that he would tolerate only from someone who had just received a ruinous notice. That was why he disliked it.

“Then why did you lose?” (Pilato)

“Well…! The demon used despicable tactics…!!” (Epitaph)

“Perhaps that’s fine to say in front of the people and soldiers, but it won’t work with me.” (Pilato)

Pilato II took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“Despicable or not, winning in war often involves using despicable means. I never said you had to fight fair and square from the beginning. Perhaps your strategy was simply outdone by this person, Yuri Hou’s strategy.” (Pilato)

“Gu…” (Epitaph)

“Don’t think of me as a fool who’s easily deceived by labeling my strategies as cowardly only when it suits you.” (Pilato)

He wanted to say how much money it cost.

The Papal States had no obligation to reimburse other countries’ losses, but they couldn’t even recover the initial expedition costs, not to mention the human losses in battle, the equipment all plundered. Tens of thousands of casualties, tens of thousands of guns, armor worn by foot soldiers, horses and carriages. And when the ransom was added, the losses to the Catholic Sect countries were incalculable.

Pilato II was ignorant of military matters and even more so of economics, but he could understand that much. He heard that gold was being gouged out of the market to pay the ransom, causing the prices of goods to plummet rapidly.

He didn’t think all of this was Epitaph’s fault, but Epitaph was the one who strongly advocated for this Crusade this time, and both the overall military commander and the Grand Marshal were Epitaph, so blame could not be avoided.

“But still—this is just too—” (Epitaph)

“Too much, huh? Are you trying to say there’s no other capable general besides you? That’s not true.” (Pilato)

“I am the one who will defeat Yuri Hou!” (Epitaph)

“With that face…” (Pilato)

Pilate II said as he looked at the bandages wrapped around Epitaph’s face.

“With that face, no one will follow you.” (Pilato)

As Pilate II spoke, Epitaph stumbled as if hurt and took a step back. If it were his previously sweet, gentle face, maybe someone would follow Epitaph. But now, how many would follow him in his current fierce appearance?

“And where are the Volunteering Knights you trained at the Vatican temples? They must be basking in the glory of the underworld by now.”  (Pilato)

The Volunteering Knights specifically referred to the members of the First Volunteering Knights stationed at the Vatican. They were recruited from monasteries nationwide to protect the Temple of Holy Rest and underwent rigorous training. They were different from secular Volunteering Knights in other cities.

They endured harsh training due to their strong faith and were well-suited to Epitaph, who had a kind of fanatical religious fervor. However, this became their downfall. The First Volunteering Knights who went on the expedition did not surrender and their names were not even listed in the prisoner exchange roster. They were almost completely wiped out.

“… The mission of the Volunteering Knights is to guard the Temple of Holy Rest. Half of them still remain.” (Epitaph)

“Do you think you’re fit for that with that face?” (Pilato)

“Looks don’t matter. We are not priests.” (Epitaph)

It didn’t matter.

“In any case, I’m relieving you of your duties as Grand Marshal.” (Pilato)

When Pilato II clearly declared the dismissal, Epitaph suddenly grabbed the buttons of his monastery robe and ripped them open. Epitaph’s upper body was exposed. Pilate II widened his eyes in surprise. There, from his chest to his stomach, were densely engraved words.

“… Even after all this, are you saying you won’t give me a chance for revenge?” (Epitaph)

Pilato II read the tattoo engraved from Epitaph’s chest to his stomach.

We are the followers of the Tenth Pope.

In other words, the followers of Hannabal.

We are those who have piled sin upon original sin and are apostates.

We are those who have willfully misinterpreted the scriptures and continued to defile the teachings of the Lord.

When the time comes, we shall surely incur God’s wrath.

To lose in battle is because of the absence of God’s grace.

Continuously spitting upon sacred verses is the reason.

Someday, we shall surely receive our due recompense.

I pray that at least that day may be welcomed in the underworld.

At least so that this life may not be spent drowning in indulgence.

It was a message to the Papal States, conveyed through a tattoo.

“Is this instigated by Eisa Wichita… Well, well.” (Pilato)

Eisa Catholic Wichita was a woman deeply tied to Pilato II. It was he who decided she was fitting for a beast-class heretic. Due to that uproar, which now dare not be mentioned, the sons of highly anticipated senior clergy were executed one after another. Even 4 sons of a cardinal were executed.

Despite their fathers’ silence and pleas, the sons continued loudly proclaiming heresy. As disciples were captured one by one and executed, Eisa Wichita vanished. Some of the abandoned disciples may still be in the Papal States, hiding their faith. A man, silenced at his parents’ home by a high-ranking clergyman and released after Eisa Wichita’s disappearance, was also within the Holy See. Yet, she had reappeared on the stage of history. Scattering books of evil incompatible with Catholic.

“My whole body is tainted with such a curse, thoroughly tainted. And yet you tell me to retreat to a monastery!” (Epitaph)

“Yes.” (Pilato)

From Pilato II’s perspective, it was a matter of course. After causing damage to the tune of millions of gold coins, it was unthinkable for no one to take responsibility. It wasn’t the crusade Pilate II proposed. It was a crusade taken up firmly by Epitaph. Pilate II thought it was a rationale even a child could understand.

“You’re coming down. You’re going to the monastery.” (Pilato)

Finally, everyone was satisfied. To Pilato II, it was more curious why he thought he could continue as Grand Marshal.

“Well then… well then, I shall follow the example of Leostro Terencester.” (Epitaph)

“What did you say?!” (Pilato)

In the past 10 years, Pilate II greeted Epitaph’s words with the greatest surprise. Despite being 63 years old, he involuntarily lifted himself from his chair.

“You, do you truly understand what that means?” (Pilato)

It was a declaration to incite rebellion in the Vaticans using the military. Leostro Terencester was the commander of the Twelfth Division, who led a coup when Holy Emperor Xerxes V issued orders for mass killings of citizens. Claiming it was done out of righteousness, he personally ordered his deputy to behead him after the series of rebellions.

“Those who do not understand, with all due respect, are perhaps my uncle… What I… what humiliation I have suffered…!!!” (Epitaph)

Epitaph’s eyes were tainted with madness. For the first time, Pilato II felt his own safety at risk.

“Alright, calm down for now.” (Pilato)

Realizing he was facing clear murderous intent, Pilato II tried to placate Epitaph with some immediate words.

“To tear that man apart with my own hands, I will do anything… Send me to a monastery… That’s unthinkable! I will be the one to kill him!!” (Epitaph)

Pilato II, who had served as Pope for 18 years, was facing such madness for the first time. It felt like facing the anger of a beast that could not be reasoned with.

“Even if it means turning my blade against my uncle! Don’t think I would value my life!” (Epitaph)

Certainly, no matter how slim his chances of winning, Epitaph would throw himself into battle. Even if he were to lose by 99%, he would never choose a path like entering a monastery. That determination was evident.

“Y-yes. Then, let’s drop the monastery talk.” (Pilato)

For now, Pilato had to get through this situation. There was no hesitation in resorting to lies. It was akin to survival behavior, throwing meat to a starving beast.

“Please write the document… allowing me to continue as Grand Marshal.” (Epitaph)

Pilato II hesitated whether to call the guards with a loud shout. However, it was already dark outside. The guards were likely members of the Volunteering Knights, and he might be killed by Epitaph the moment he shouted. Epitaph was clearly out of control now.

“Alright, I’ll write it.” (Pilato)

For now, he just had to get through this moment. Pilato II thought so, and took out parchment from the desk.

“Not like this. It needs to be in a papal decree.” (Epitaph)

“It’s not here.” (Pilato)

“It should be here.” (Epitaph)

A papal decree referred to paper with a metal seal, used for more official documents. Since those with golden seals were made as needed, there were none on the desk, but lead-sealed ones were prepared just in case.

“…Kuh.” (Pilato)

Thinking not to provoke, Pilato II took out the parchment for the papal decree from the desk and wrote the document for the continuation of the Grand Marshal’s duties on it. Upon finishing writing, Epitaph snatched it, rolled it up tightly, and sealed it with the stamp.

“I do not wish to oppose His Holiness. Uncle.” (Epitaph)

Epitaph spoke.

“What nonsense are you spouting…!” (Pilato)

“Remember this. I will do anything to destroy that man…” (Epitaph)

Saying so, Epitaph looked at his own chest as if recalling his hatred. Then, he thrusted his nails in. With strong force, his nails slowly scratched into the inked skin, gouging the flesh. Blood overflowed, dripping from his chest down to his feet. While mimicking tearing off the skin, Epitaph seemed to feel no pain.

“That man is a demon… If we don’t kill him, we will be destroyed…!” (Epitaph)

Tearing at his own chest with his nails, Epitaph spoke as if driven by madness.

“I am absolutely right…!” (Epitaph)

Epitaph desperately clawed at his chest, trying to wash away the disgrace engraved on his body, even scratching his face over the bandages. Soon, the bandages on his face were dyed crimson.

“Absolutely, absolutely right…! No matter what His Holiness says—!” (Epitaph)

His words were tainted with madness, yet they also seemed convinced of justice. With gritted teeth, his eyes moved irregularly. Spittle dripped from his trembling mouth, his appearance resembling that of a madman.

“I will absolutely kill him—! Yuri Hou… that demon… demon…” (Epitaph)

And he said…

“Satan…!” (Epitaph)