The Pope had passed away.
Before the funeral began, the cardinals gathered in the Pope’s chamber.
“This means we must dispose of the ring.”
The Chamberlain, who was both the Pope’s secretary and his representative, removed the ring from the Pope’s hand.
He placed it on the podium in front of the cardinals.
“From this moment on, the Fisherman’s Ring is nullified.”
With those words, the Chamberlain struck the ring with a hammer.
Bang. Bang.
A cross-shaped indentation was engraved onto the ring.
The ring also served as a seal.
In other words, this act signified that all Vatican operations were now suspended.
“Summon all the cardinals worldwide.”
Following the Chamberlain’s command, cardinals from across the globe ceased their duties and gathered in the Vatican.
The ones in charge of intelligence outside the Vatican.
The ones overseeing security within.
The ones conducting religious trials.
Not a single one was exempt.
Naturally, the ongoing trial of Trimonde was postponed.
Heinrich protested at this.
“The trial is still in session!”
“Sir Heinrich. The conclave takes precedence over all other ceremonies. It is the law.”
“Ghh…”
Heinrich had no rebuttal.
He could see that even the Chamberlain was barely containing his anger.
“I don’t want to act according to the will of the Secularists either. But now, more than ever, we must adhere to the rules.”
A judge must not commit the same sins they condemn.
Those who stand against evil must be unrelentingly strict with themselves, even to the point of foolishness.
The elderly man held onto the last threads of reason as he spoke.
“The conclave will commence.”
Heinrich could do nothing but nod, knowing the man had been a faithful servant to the Pope.
***
Before the official start of the conclave, Cardinal Heinrich met with Amon and his companions.
“Regrettably, we must pause the trial for now.”
The conclave.
An indefinite voting process to elect the next Pope.
Beginning on the fifteenth day after the Pope’s passing, this process required all cardinals with voting rights to remain inside the conclave chamber until a new Pope was chosen.
In other words…
“This is when the Vatican is at its most vulnerable,” Heinrich told Amon.
Though the Chamberlain acted as the Pope’s representative, his authority was only temporary and held little real power.
During this time, the Vatican was like a headless giant.
“And I, along with all the cardinals, will be completely cut off from the outside world.”
Furthermore, the cardinals would be isolated in the chamber without any electronic devices or means of communication.
By a twist of fate, Heinrich had only recently been appointed cardinal, meaning he too would have to retreat from worldly affairs for a while.
So, he sought out the person he trusted most.
“Brother, the Secularists… have gone too far.”
“Are you saying this incident was their doing?”
“To be frank, that is what we believe.”
The new leader of the Moderates, who had accompanied Heinrich, nodded in agreement.
“As you know, Brother Amon, we were planning to launch a counterattack with this trial as our starting point. But at that critical moment… His Holiness was assassinated.”
“Are you certain it was murder? What about the autopsy?”
“The doctrine forbids an autopsy on the Pope’s body.”
Tsk.
Amon clicked his tongue internally at the Moderate cardinal’s response.
“But we can infer from the circumstances. The trial has been delayed because of this incident. It is undoubtedly a scheme of the Secularists.”
“Do you have any evidence?”
“They have never left any behind—not once, thanks to their power of foresight.”
Ultimately, Amon came to a tentative conclusion and continued listening.
“We are facing our greatest crisis yet. A large number of the cardinals belong to the Secularists. At this rate, the next Pope will be one of them.”
“We came to you because we need a favor while we do our best to delay them.”
The papal election process was notoriously rigorous.
Though the exact rules varied throughout history, the current method required unanimous agreement.
The cardinals voted twice daily—once in the morning and once in the afternoon.
If unanimity could not be reached after several rounds, they would compromise with a two-thirds majority starting on the fourth day.
“The compromise usually happens on the fourth day.”
“Until then, we need you to gather evidence against the cardinals on this list.”
Amon carefully accepted the list from Heinrich.
Glancing over its contents, Amon turned to the leaders of both factions.
“Just how strong does the evidence need to be?”
“There is only one condition that can nullify the election of a Pope.”
At Amon’s question, Heinrich’s expression darkened.
“Demon worship.”
***
After meeting with the two cardinals, Amon explained the situation to his team.
“Once the conclave begins, the Secularist cardinals will also be at their most vulnerable.”
Of course, they wouldn’t be fools.
They would undoubtedly lock down their estates, tightening security to an extreme.
Disguising themselves and infiltrating would be nearly impossible.
But Amon wasn’t concerned.
“Cassie. I’ll leave it to you.”
Cassie nodded and headed toward the target’s estate.
She requested an audience with the cardinal.
Naturally, she was denied.
She never expected to be let in anyway.
Her real objective was to make eye contact with the guards.
“I’ve confirmed it. There’s no seer in this estate. Here’s the layout.”
Once she passed along the information, Amon scaled the estate’s walls.
****
A few minutes later, he was back with his team.
“Not here either.”
Murder, kidnapping, embezzlement, extortion, illegitimate children.
They had uncovered a trove of crimes—yet there was no trace of demon worship.
Even after investigating every cardinal on the list, they found nothing.
“Could it be that we overestimated them?”
Sonia barely managed to suppress her frustration.
But Amon wasn’t convinced.
“No. Those two aren’t fools. There must be a reason they specifically mentioned demon worship.”
He reviewed the list over and over.
Just then, the Chamberlain arrived.
“There you are.”
“Chamberlain?”
Amon was startled to see him.
It wasn’t strange that the Chamberlain wasn’t participating in the conclave—after all, someone had to run the Vatican in the Pope’s absence.
However, the fact that he had come in person, without sending word beforehand, meant something urgent had happened.
“There’s no time. We’ve been deceived.”
“What do you mean?”
The Chamberlain pulled a document from his robes.
“One of the Secularist cardinals has been posing as a Moderate.”
He had remained hidden until the conclave began, only revealing his true allegiance once the doors were sealed.
“He was missing from the list. This is the man.”
Amon took the paper and tucked it into his pocket.
There was one thing that needed to be confirmed.
“Has communication been cut off?”
The Chamberlain knocked on the wall without a word.
Knock, knock-knock.
It was Morse code.
“We prepared this in advance just in case.”
Amon nodded in understanding and immediately gathered his companions.
“White smoke will rise soon.”
During the conclave, smoke would rise from the church chimney at regular intervals.
Black smoke meant no Pope had been elected.
White smoke meant a new Pope had been chosen.
“I’ll be back quickly.”
Amon scaled the wall effortlessly, suppressing all sound, presence, magic, and divine power to perfection.
After countless infiltrations, he had reached a level where even if he stood right behind someone, no servant or guard would notice his presence.
Thus, he arrived at the traitor’s office.
Inside, he found undeniable evidence of demon worship.
For a brief moment, Amon felt like cheering—until his expression darkened.
“This bastard…!”
The traitor had already summoned a demon to the Vatican.
With all the cardinals locked in one place and the papacy vacant, it was the perfect moment for demons to invade.
“Sonia, Cassie, Father Gregory. I’ll go ahead. Follow me.”
Amon sprinted across the rooftops of the Holy City once again.
***
On the outskirts of the Vatican.
In a small café straddling the borders of Rome and the Vatican, an old man with a thick beard sipped his coffee.
He wore a deep wine-colored suit, a rose pinned to his chest, and sunglasses ill-suited for the night.
He glanced briefly toward the heart of the Vatican.
“Hmm. Even from this distance, it stings. Must be the holy relic.”
He drained his cup once more.
Beside him, a mechanical pet crocodile yawned, revealing its sharp metal fangs.
The sight of the well-dressed old man and the cybernetic crocodile was striking enough to draw attention.
Yet, strangely, no one in the café seemed to notice him.
Likewise, the old man paid no attention to the passersby, checking his wristwatch repeatedly.
As if he were waiting for someone.
‘Something’s off…’
He turned his gaze back to the Vatican.
‘The conclave should have already started… So why was I summoned? And by whom?’
The old man couldn’t understand it.
‘Why would anyone call a demon into the Holy City?’
Even with the Pope dead and the cardinals confined, the sacred relics in the catacombs remained intact.
Yes, security was weaker.
But even getting close would regress his body to that of an infant.
For lesser demons, merely looking at the Vatican up close would be enough to annihilate them.
With growing curiosity, he focused his gaze on the conclave chamber.
And then—
The corners of his lips curled into a smirk.
‘Oh? How fascinating.’
The old man stared at the cathedral as if he had discovered something intriguing.
After a while, he nodded in satisfaction.
‘Humans never fail to entertain me.’
He shifted his gaze away from the Vatican.
Then, as he savored his coffee, he recalled how this very beverage had once been known as the devil’s drink before a Pope blessed it.
Just then, a shadow fell over his cup.
The old man looked up, wondering when the person had arrived.
Standing before him was Amon, his face twisted in fury.
The old man knew who Amon was but decided to feign ignorance out of courtesy.
“Who might you be?”
“You know me as the Fish and the Saw.”
“Ha! A descendant of Simon, I see.”
Clang!
Amon drove his sword into the pavement beside the old man’s seat.
Then he spoke.
“Convince me not to kill you right here and now.”
“You seem to be mistaken. I’m merely here to observe.”
“To admire a piece of Goetia’s work?”
“One wouldn’t call their own creation a ‘piece of art,’ would they?”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“You don’t have to. But even if you kill me, it won’t change anything. This body is just a clone, so it’s meaningless anyway.”
“Then you wouldn’t mind if I cut you down right here?”
Amon pressed his blade against the old man’s throat.
Yet the old man remained completely at ease.
“Come now. I’m just curious about how another demon’s work will unfold. If you let my clone live, I might even give you a small hint to solve this mess.”
“Aren’t you his ally?”
“Not all demons belong to Goetia. Surely you don’t think there are only seventy-two of us?”
“Tsk.”
“Relax, Amon. For a demon, I’m rather kind. Quite friendly toward humans, even. If you compare me to the factions in the Vatican, I’d be… Moderate.”
“I don’t make deals with demons.”
“I figured as much. But I thought I’d try.”
The old man pointed down an alley with his ring-adorned finger.
“You’re just stalling until your comrades arrive, aren’t you?”
“If you knew, why go along with it?”
“Because I like reckless humans.”
The old man stood up from his seat.
“I find it entertaining—watching humans steel their resolve in the face of fear.”
With refined grace, he adjusted his suit.
Amon, meanwhile, made the sign of the cross with his sword for the first time in a long while, facing the old man directly.
“Your name?”
“If I told you, you’d learn my abilities as well.”
“Fine. But let me correct one thing in your statement.”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“You may have seen something in me, but it’s not fear.”
“Then why is your sword trembling?”
Amon didn’t answer.
Instead, he swung his blade with all his might.
“AMEN!!”
The old man let out a dry chuckle as he deflected the strike.
“That’s… not quite what it means, you know?”