"How is that possible? The Pope tried to assassinate Goddess Athena and the previous Pope?"
Moses of White Whale was full of disbelief.
"I don't believe it's true."
Babel of Centaurus looked conflicted.
"Nonsense. It must be slander."
Misty of Lizard didn't buy it at all.
"Who did this?"
Seeing the writing on the papers, Pope Saga sprang to his feet, the marble beneath him cracking.
His black hair flew, and an extraordinarily overbearing Cosmo poured off him—downright terrifying—crushing the surrounding Silver Saints until they could barely breathe.
The other four Gold Saints were startled for a moment, then their expressions returned to normal.
They more or less knew the Pope wasn't himself, even knew his true face, but they believed might makes right. Even knowing, they wouldn't say more, each acting as if they hadn't seen a thing.
With the Gold Saints silent, the rest had even less to say.
The atmosphere turned eerie and still.
"Someone controlled the crows."
"But the Crow Silver Saint is already dead..."
Shaka lifted his head, as if he'd seen through the cause, and even glanced at Damian.
He seemed to have sensed a wisp of telekinesis flare from the gravekeeper earlier. Was it him?
Damian wasn't surprised. He'd told the crows to drop their "bombs" and hide, but Shaka wasn't ordinary; the crows certainly couldn't escape his eyes.
"Hum!"
Shaka uttered a single syllable.
The papers across the sky ignited at once.
Even those already in hand burst into flame and crumbled to ash.
"Saints, I am Shaka, Athena's Saint in the Virgo Gold Cloth. I fight only for justice and will not stand with evil. Whoever the other party is, I can tell justice from evil. In my eyes, His Holiness the Pope is without question just."
Shaka's cool voice carried clear.
"Indeed—power is justice. His Holiness's power compels belief. His Holiness is surely the embodiment of justice, the Goddess Athena's spokesman."
Deathmask followed up.
"Yes, the Pope is justice, lord of the earth."
"If anyone dares slander His Holiness, let him step forward—I'll take his head."
Aphrodite and Shura declared in turn.
"Yes, His Holiness is justice."
"We believe in His Holiness."
"His Holiness is the embodiment of absolute justice."
With the Gold Saints speaking, the Silver Saints echoed at once, pledging loyalty one by one.
Misty of Lizard led the way, even dropping to one knee.
"What just happened was surely the work of an Underworld spy, slandering me on purpose."
"If anyone can't hold his tongue, I'll wipe him out on the spot."
"Is that clear?"
Saga's voice burned with fury and resolve as his gaze swept the crowd.
"By your command! Long live His Holiness, the embodiment of justice, ruler on earth, and the Goddess Athena's spokesman."
Chief of Staff Gigas dropped to his knees, nearly prostrate.
All the Silver Saints followed suit, kneeling. Even Shaina and Marin submitted and chanted along.
In the Sanctuary, none dared question the Pope's authority.
"Long live His Holiness, the embodiment of justice, ruler of the earth, and the Goddess Athena's spokesman."
"Long live His Holiness, the embodiment of justice, ruler of the earth, and the Goddess Athena's spokesman."
"Long live His Holiness..."
Well, great.
It turned into a mass loyalty pageant.
Why not just chant: Old Immortal Saga, power without bounds, miracles without limit, sovereign of the earth.
Wouldn't that be catchier?
Damian couldn't help curling his lip, unsurprised.
A scene like this was both absurd and exactly what he'd expected.
Saints were warriors to begin with, and warriors worship power by nature.
After thirteen years under Black Saga, the Sanctuary revered strength above all.
Of the twelve Gold Saints, only a few didn't know the Pope was Saga; even those unsure of his true identity had come to exalt brute strength.
Without Athena, the political leader who preached love and justice, the Sanctuary had naturally gone completely off the rails under Black Saga.
You could say Saga had remade the Sanctuary into a violence machine that worshiped strength alone, plainly divorced from Athena's love and justice.
The Saints had no faith in the Goddess; the only thing they believed in was His Holiness's iron fist.
In such a Sanctuary, never mind force of arms—spiritually it was scattered sand, ideology a total mess. No wonder five Bronze cockroaches could punch through it, and Gold Saints throwing fights were a dime a dozen.
With the Sanctuary this pathetic and Saga wanting to kill him, he might as well flip the table and rebel.
"Very well."
Watching the Saints bend the knee, Saga slowly drew in his Cosmo and turned toward Pansy, kneeling on the ground.
"Y-Your Holiness..."
Pansy was terrified.
The paper hadn't named her, but its point aimed straight at her.
She was the only one who'd been close to His Holiness lately.
The Pope would surely suspect her.
And with his vicious, overbearing temperament, he might well kill her on the spot.
"Why was I attacked in the Pope's Hall?"
"With the Hall's barrier, that should be impossible—unless there was an inside hand. And it happened after you entered."
"Now Specters appear in the Sanctuary... Pansy!"
As the Pope closed in step by step, his killing intent mounted.
Pansy could feel his murderous aura, terrifying and suffocating.
The Pope surely meant to kill her to silence her!
Pansy steadied herself at once, and a trace of black light surfaced in her eyes.
Last time, her Hypnosis Divine Art seemed ineffective on Saga—the results unclear—but to save her life she had to try the dying-horse cure.
Looking into Saga's gaze beneath the mask, her big eyes brimmed with pity and fear, and a faint, hard-to-spot darkness.
"Please don't kill me, Your Holiness. I'm innocent."
As the Pope's large hand came down, Pansy gazed up pitifully and simply shut her eyes.
But the hand merely pressed lightly to her brow.
A mighty, gentle Cosmo enveloped and soothed her at once.
This is...
Pansy opened her eyes in surprise to find all the killing intent gone from him. He even patted her head.
In the sunlight, his black hair took on a faint bluish sheen, as if he were a different person.
"There is nothing wrong with this girl—only the Cosmo in her body fluctuates oddly."
Saga seemed to sense something and didn't probe further.
His words let Pansy breathe again, as if dragged back from the brink of death. Cold sweat drenched her; her legs went weak.
Did the Hypnosis Divine Art really work this time?
Why did he seem like a different person the moment she used it?
Saga turned his gaze to Damian and walked toward him.
Damian, ready to flip the table and bolt, looked back at Saga.
His Cosmo was already primed; the instant the other showed even a hint of killing intent toward him, he'd ignite it.
First fire a Titan Nova, then spit a big gob of old phlegm, open a dimensional rift, and run!
(End of Chapter)
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