The Body of the Undying King (1)
"Passed?"
P-passed?
Isaac's mind froze for a moment, and he had no choice but to hesitate.
Had he misheard because his cochlea had finally regenerated after so long?
Was his brain playing tricks on him after centuries of being deprived of the luxury of hearing without magic?
Yet, the voice sounded genuinely overjoyed.
It was the most emotional voice Isaac had ever heard.
[Among all of you, the only one truly worthy of sainthood is you, little one!]
"…?"
[You deserve to move on to the Third Hall!]
"…??"
[You're the only one who passed! Unbelievable. What a joyous occasion. This hasn't happened since the very beginning! A saint has appeared!]
"...…??????"
It didn't seem like he had misheard.
Isaac twitched an eyebrow, and the other children stirred in a great commotion.
At that point, he realized something was definitely wrong.
"Wait, what? What just happened?"
"Passed? What do you mean?"
"I don't get it. Did you just say only he passed?"
"But he didn't even do anything! Is this a scam or something?"
At the children's sharp voices, the once-excited voice suddenly turned cold.
[You heard correctly. Only that child is qualified to proceed to the Third Hall.]
The children immediately protested, unable to accept it.
"But why?! You clearly told us we had 'passed'…!!"
The glowing symbol that had appeared at their feet was proof enough. If it wasn't 'passing,' then what was it for?
But the voice was icily indifferent.
[I said you 'passed' — I never said you 'succeeded.']
"What? But you said you'd let us through!"
[Yes. I said I would let you through — but I never said it would be to the Third Hall.]
"…?!"
[The place you are going is a prison. That symbol is a teleportation marker that sends you to the underground prison. Stay there until this child chooses his reward.]
At the thunderous revelation, the children exploded in protest.
"This is ridiculous! Why?!"
"We don't understand! Why?"
It was outrageously unfair.
They had done everything they were told, so why?!
Hearing the children's desperate reactions, the voice let out a dry chuckle.
[Do you truly not understand? I told you to prove your faith in the gods.]
"Yes! And we did!"
"We each knelt before the statue and prayed… huh."
The children, who had been shouting in anger, suddenly fell silent. Their faces started to turn pale.
They had been taught religious practices from a young age.
There was no way they didn't realize the mistake they had made.
As expected—
[I told you to offer worship to the gods — not to the statues.]
"…!!"
They had performed the proper rites, lowering themselves in the most respectful manner — but only toward the statues.
However, outside of temples officially recognized by the gods, such actions were forbidden. Anything else was considered idolatry.
In other words, the true meaning behind "proving faith in the gods" was not what they thought.
'Not kneeling before the statues. That was the real answer.'
As if to confirm this, the voice mercilessly condemned the children.
[Are those statues your gods? If something merely resembles a god, do you worship it?]
Among the children, voices filled with frustration and despair could be heard.
"B-but…! We thought we had to do that to reach the Third Hall…"
[You lot would kneel even to those who are not gods if it meant gaining a moment's advantage.]
"...!!"
As was the case with all clerics, but especially for saints and saintesses, one absolute rule applied: Never kneel to anyone but your own god.
A taboo that must absolutely be avoided, even more than idol worship, for those who should be a model for others.
[Look at that child. Even in the face of death, they didn't waver. With such a small, young body, they displayed true faith.]
The children could only stay silent, like mute lambs.
It was a blunder.
It felt like all the blood drained from the top of their heads to the soles of their feet.
Even the Holy See repeatedly taught this part, so it couldn't be excused as ignorance.
Anyone aiming to become a Saint had to uphold their beliefs even in front of a statue.
After all, they were supposed to be the guides representing the holy faction.
But even so…
[You're probably thinking it's cowardly to pull a trick at the last moment, right?]
"…?!!"
Was he reading minds now?
Some children couldn't even lift their heads, as if the words had struck home.
Their hearts felt like they would stop.
[Tsk. I figured many of you would be worldly types since most Saint candidates come from noble families. The white dragon on your national emblem must be crying.]
The voice sounded thoroughly displeased.
[If you think of this as deception, you're truly foolish. Saints are those who lead people at the frontlines and channel power to God. That's why the demons are desperate to lure them away by any means. It's common for them to disguise themselves as divine beings or their emissaries. A top-class Demon King like the Skull King can easily transform into a god.]
That's not true. Those bastards don't even bother transforming.
Isaac gave a hollow laugh.
How inefficient would that be?
Were they bragging about being magic-rich elites or what?
[That's why we tested you — to see if you would fall for temptation or threats. We even gave you hints at the last station, but this is what we get. What a disappointing level.]
He sure had a knack for making everything sound unnecessarily complicated.
In reality, all they did was trick kids with word games.
[Thus, the only one who passed the test is that child. Not only did that child refuse to worship the idol, but they even tried to destroy it. From such a small body, where did they summon that courage and strength? Hence, that clever and exceptional little one will move on to Station 3 alone.]
Yeah, whatever the great Dragon says is always the truth. As if.
[And this matter will be publicly announced.]
"!!"
The children froze.
'Damn it, if they do that, our rankings…'
Isaac chuckled to himself.
Well, in truth, he just didn't want to bow to anything pretending to be divine — that was it.
But if the gatekeeper liked it, who cared?
As long as the examiner saw it positively, that was all that mattered.
Now, with no rivals, he could leisurely focus on strengthening himself…
"I object."
Of course, it wasn't going to be that easy.
Isaac turned toward the voice.
As expected, it was Kina Berit.
'Yeah, no way the Papal House would just give up.'
There's no way someone with ability would be disqualified so absurdly.
It was completely unacceptable.
Kina Berit was glaring fiercely at the statue.
"I cannot accept this."
[Oh? That exclusive air, that stubborn glare… Berit, huh.]
The voice carried a strange hint of irritation, but Kina Berit showed no fear.
"That child is an infant. There's no way to prove whether they refused to kneel out of genuine conviction."
She wasn't wrong.
It could have been just a reflex, not an action with conscious belief.
No matter how superhuman the holy families might be, that child was too young to measure faith by.
"If that child truly had such faith, there's no way they wouldn't have a Stigmata."
The other children tilted their heads.
They had to pause and think about what Kina was saying.
It sounded strange.
"Wait, that kid doesn't have a Stigmata?"
"What? How could a Saint candidate not have one!"
The children, almost simultaneously, pulled aside their own clothes.
On their wrists, ankles, waists, necks—various places and sizes—but all bore a holy mark.
A sacred pattern, as if a god had carved it into their flesh.
And even without checking someone else's body, it wasn't hard to know if they had a Stigmata or not.
'Of course, the Papal House would know.'
That annoying uncle had said so himself.
When Shuri developed a Stigmata, they immediately went to the Vatican for confirmation.
The Vatican was essentially run by the Papal House, so news would spread quickly.
Who had a Stigmata, where it was located, and what grade it was.
Kina Berit was grinding her teeth.
'I didn't want to go this far, but there's no choice.'
Though it felt like nitpicking, protecting her chance was more important.
If she were disqualified now, it would disgrace her father, who had sent her here, and tarnish the Papal House's prestige.
However, the voice laughed as if it had expected this.
[Infants may not show Stigmata yet.]
"I had mine," Kina shot back.
Her golden, lion-like eyes flashed.
The voice sneered mockingly.
[You should realize that wasn't because of your own merit.]
"What?"
[Do the rest of you think the same way?]
Several children immediately responded.
"Of course! There's no way we'd lose to some Stigma-less baby!"
"I can't accept this!"
[Well, fine. If you can't accept it, then there's nothing to be done. I'll send you all to the Third Wing.]
At those words, color returned to the faces of Kina Berit and the other children.
"Then…!"
We did it! We succeeded!
Kina Berit's followers shouted proudly.
"Hey, you guys! Remember this well! Remember who's sending you to the Third Wing!"
"Yeah, it's Lady Kina who—"
[If you want to rush to your deaths like moths to a flame, I'll gladly send you.]
…Huh?
Hearing the blatantly mocking voice, the kids realized something was wrong.
And in that moment—
Boom!
Suddenly, with the sensation that the ground was shaking, the children instinctively covered their mouths.
"Keugh…!!"
They couldn't breathe.
A terrifying miasma was pouring out from somewhere.
It was coming from what appeared to be the door to the Third Wing. Just moments ago, there hadn't been anything unusual.
Until now, a seal must have been tightly blocking even the slightest crack in the door.
Even without fully opening it, just slightly loosening the seal allowed that chilling miasma to leak out.
And that alone made the children feel like they were suffocating to death.
Crying? No, even that would have been a luxury—they were barely conscious.
And at this point, it was impossible not to realize who the owner of this terrifying energy was.
[Can you truly not guess? Inside there lies the physical body of the Skeleton King.]
"…!!"
[I tested your faith like this because once you step into the Third Wing, every one of you would die due to the Skeleton King's body. Foolish brats who don't even know their place.]
"…!!"
The children felt like they were about to suffocate.
Tears poured from their eyes.
[The Third Wing has already become almost indistinguishable from the Demon Realm thanks to the Skeleton King's body. And you think you're going to retrieve it? You idiots who can't even meet the basic requirements?]
Please, stop it, or the kids are going to wet themselves.
Isaac clicked his tongue as if scolding them, but his eyes curved into a mischievous crescent.
Well, of course—they recognized that energy, that power!
It was unmistakably his own body!
To think the priests had preserved his body so well!
Bless those priests!
At Isaac's reaction, the voice grew even more excited, as if saying, "See for yourself!"
[Look! That child who proved his faith remains so composed! Can you not see the difference even now?]
The children, confused, turned to look at Isaac.
But once they did, they recoiled for an entirely different reason.
"Thpyack! (Wait for me, my precious body.)"
Composed…?
Composed, really?
"Ssspphyack."
No matter how you looked at it, he was clearly licking his lips.
"Hyahyahya hyakak! (Hahh, just wait, I'm coming!)"
No matter how you looked at it, he was drooling!!
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