I play a Evil God in Otome Game

"Your Holiness, the Pope! I have terrible news!"

"Hmm?" Pope Bartolomeo turned to the bishop with a calm gaze, furrowing his brows as if indifferently requesting an explanation. Trembling under the Pope's gaze, the Bishop quickly spoke.

"The orcs... the orcs are preparing for an invasion." The Bishop cautiously studied the Pope's reaction, expecting some kind of response. However, contrary to his expectations, the Pope did not even flinch. He simply returned his eyes to the holy scripture he was reading.

The Bishop waited for a response, standing patiently. Finally, the Pope ceased his prayers. His eyes turned to the Bishop with a merciless glint. "Declare a crusade. The orc threat has made this a necessity."

The Bishop's eyes widened. Seeing the Pope's stern expression, he swallowed his questions and left cautiously. Once alone, the Pope gave a subtle signal for Solomon to come forward.

Emerging from a shadowy corner of the room, Solomon met the Pope's gaze with a calm expression. "As expected, the orcs will not stop now."

Hearing Solomon's words, the Pope merely grunted. "Orcs have always been vile creatures. Seizing every opportunity is in their nature."

"But isn't a crusade too much for this? After all, even the orc emperor is pathetic enough to be easily defeated by Sister Isolde." Thinking of the orc emperor, Solomon scoffed inwardly. However, the Pope only smiled mysteriously.

"You sensed the great chaotic mana explosion from the desert, didn't you?"

Solomon did not respond, only nodding. The Pope continued. "That explosion was caused by something. It was the result of something powerful."

Solomon was not particularly surprised. They had already received Isolde's letter, but he had assumed the explosion was a one-time weapon used by the orcs. He had heard of the Beast God, but he never believed it to be so powerful.

After all, the idea that Isolde—who carried the power of the Goddess of Light—could be defeated by an unknown god was impossible in Solomon's eyes. No matter how much Isolde insisted, he refused to believe her.

The Pope, seemingly aware of Solomon's thoughts, rebuked him with displeasure. "It displeases me how foolish you are, Solomon. Isolde was right. A false god has been summoned into this world. This is an opportunity for us as well."

At first, Solomon felt irritated by the Pope's rebuke. But as he heard the Pope's following words, he couldn't hide the surprise on his face.

With a knowing look, the Pope continued. "The orcs are not preparing to attack us. Their target is the elves."

"Why? Aren't we a better target?" Solomon asked thoughtfully.

The Pope explained, "That false god is after the Holy Grail fragments. The first place it will attack is the elves, who hold one of the fragments."

Hearing the Pope's words, Solomon found the reasoning logical. Whoever the Beast God was, the power to claim an all-powerful artifact would certainly be tempting.

If the Holy Grail were to be fully assembled, it would grant omnipotence. If Solomon believed he could claim the fragments for himself, he would have done so already. The Beast God, thinking similarly, was likely trying to gather the fragments.

"Right now, Isolde holds three fragments of the Holy Grail. The elves have one. Another is in the hands of Duke Alfred. That makes four fragments within these lands." The Pope spoke wisely.

Solomon's eyes lit up with realization. He immediately understood what the Pope was implying. "So… it's helping us gather the fragments?"

"Exactly. From the very beginning, its goal was not to keep all the fragments for itself but to have us collect them instead. That way, once all the remaining fragments are gathered, it will strike us last."

"But where are the last two fragments? Are they with the dwarves?" Solomon asked, curious.

The Pope shook his head. "The last two fragments are lost. Even we do not know their whereabouts. All we know is that they are in Hell."

"That's… impossible. Why would the Holy Grail be in Hell?" Even Solomon's normally emotionless face showed a flicker of shock.

The Pope simply smiled. "As I said, even I don't know. All I know is that sooner or later, those two fragments will surface."

Solomon fell silent, making a mental note of the Pope's words. He then decided to shift the discussion to a more immediate matter—the rising far-right Empire in the West.

"What will we do about them? Are we just going to wait for them to grow into a threat?"

This time, the Pope showed no interest and simply dismissed the concern. "They no longer matter. Neither does this kingdom. We will even allow them to take all of the West."

For a moment, Solomon wondered if the old man had gone mad. "What if they attack us from behind?"

The Pope merely grunted. "Even if they do, they will have to deal with the orcs first. I believe their emperor is intelligent enough to see that. Besides, for now, they are preoccupied with the dwarves. That will buy us time."

Trying to extract some meaning from the Pope's words, Solomon found himself frustrated. He still didn't understand why the Pope was so indifferent to the rising empire.

To Solomon, the greatest threat was Drachenreich, which could attack them from behind at any moment. Even so, he assumed the Pope had a plan and chose to remain silent.

The Pope's gaze then narrowed. He looked out from the balcony, his eyes scanning the horizon. Then, with a side glance at Solomon, he spoke once more.

The Pope's gaze narrowed. His eyes drifted toward the balcony. Casting a side glance at Solomon, he continued, "The orcs are far stronger than you think, Solomon. This kingdom is doomed to fall."

Hearing the Pope's grave words, Solomon waited in curiosity for him to elaborate. The Pope remained silent for a while, deep in thought, before finally speaking with solemnity. "This is no longer a mere war between mortals. It has now become a divine war."

Closing his eyes, the Pope added, "The angels of Heaven will descend to the earth once more as a last resort. This is our final option."

"You mean—"

The Pope cut him off, opening his eyes as he answered. "Yes. The angels will descend once again and annihilate the enemy. All that is required is time. And when the time comes, they will all be erased in a single stroke."

At last, Solomon understood the source of the Pope's confidence. He wasn't foolish—he immediately grasped the meaning of the Pope's words.

The Pope was declaring that the angels of Heaven would descend upon the world. This was no longer a battle of mortals. No, with the resurrection of the Beast God, it had become a holy war.

Realizing that the Pope no longer cared for the kingdom or its people, Solomon remained silent, choosing not to comment further.

"If there is nothing else, you may leave, Solomon," the Pope commanded without another word. Solomon gave a brief salute before departing.

—

As he stepped out of the Pope's chambers, Solomon found himself reminiscing about the heroes who had been assigned the mission to defeat Björn, the Wargan shaman.

Although he didn't interact much with them apart from Rickard, gaining their trust had been easy—except for that brute, Boris.

With the heroes' strength, taking down the shaman should be no challenge. If they failed, then Solomon would be the fool. Still, what intrigued him most was how much stronger they would become.

Having conducted an experiment to observe the growth of four individuals with potential rivaling Saint Alice, Solomon couldn't help but be curious.

As he entered his chamber, his eyes flicked toward the documents on his desk, and a smirk of arrogance curled on his lips.

The papers contained records from his latest experiment, "Divinity." Within them were personal observations and results involving various figures, including the heroes and Alice.

"It's close… The truth is within reach…" Solomon's gaze narrowed. A chuckle of satisfaction escaped him, but as his eyes drifted toward the holy scriptures, his expression darkened. His smirk faded.

With a growl of frustration, Solomon grabbed the sacred texts, his hands trembling with rage as he noticed something had changed. "Someone was here."

Solomon's chamber was heavily protected by wards. If anyone had entered, he would have sensed it. But today… he had felt nothing.

"Did they steal something?"

Scanning the room carefully, Solomon saw that nothing was out of place. It wasn't a thief. The only change was in the sacred text's writing.

Focusing on the altered passage, Solomon slowly read through it. Most of it remained the same, except for one final new sentence.

Reading the riddle, Solomon furrowed his brows.

—

"No birds sing their songs here,

Nor do serpents whisper.

Even the wind moves in silence,

And time itself crystallizes in the cold.

No sun breathes life into this land,

Nor does spring ever find its way.

In the endless white where all is lost,

I await you…"

—

Solomon's sharp mind quickly processed the words. After a brief moment of thought, he understood exactly where this place was.

Across the continent of Albion, only the far north had winters harsh enough to fit this description. The riddle emphasized the unrelenting cold, suggesting that even as seasons passed, the cold remained absolute.

Then, realization struck him, and his eyes widened. A grin of self-satisfaction spread across his face.

Everything pointed to a single location—Lifeless Valley.

The largest valley in Aure, hidden behind the Wargan lands, where temperatures dropped below -50°C. A place where neither birds nor reptiles could survive.

Located above the northern dwarf mountains, this valley was a mystical frozen wasteland, where winter raged all year long, freezing everything around it.

Even mana was ineffective in that land—a place so deadly that even Solomon would be at risk.

But the real question lingered in Solomon's mind.

"Why…? Who is trying to lure me to that desolate valley?"

He didn't know. But something deep inside him urged him to go.

It was an instinct stronger than reason. It felt as if something far more important than even his own life was waiting for him there.

Though the unease gnawed at him, Solomon ultimately decided—he had to go.

And so, Solomon began preparing.

Now, he only needed to convince the Pope to grant him permission.

Ensuring everything in his chamber was secure, Solomon swiftly made his way back to the Pope's quarters, ready to seek his approval.