The young priest’s echoing footsteps bounced off the damp stone walls of the spiral staircase, plunging deeper and deeper into the bowels of the earth.
The further he descended the steps, the more suffocating the surrounding air became, draped in an atmosphere that was both intensely sacred and bone-chillingly cold—the hallmark underground headquarters of the God’s Punishment Legion.
At the end of the staircase, a solid iron door carved with the symbol of the holy sun stood firmly without a guard.
Without hesitation, the young priest knocked softly upon it three times in accordance with the emergency code.
Creeak…
The iron door swung open on its own without anyone pulling it, revealing a spacious room with a domed stone ceiling illuminated by a glowing blue magical luminescence.
In the center of the room sat a figure clad in full-body gleaming silver armor, complete with the emblem of the holy sun sharply engraved upon the chest plate.
The figure’s face was tightly concealed behind a flat silver mask that left only a narrow slit for the eyes—displaying a cold, merciless gaze.
The young priest immediately bowed respectfully.
“The stain of heresy and the thorns of the demon have clawed at the House of Silver in the capital. The curse of demonic sigils and shamanic rituals has poisoned the northern knights at their lodging.”
Hearing the words of the cursed incantation and demonic sigils, the holy inquisitor’s posture instantly stiffened.
The atmosphere inside the room abruptly grew heavy, filled with a surging aura of magic.
The inquisitor looked up, staring sharply at the young priest from behind the slit of his silver mask.
Realizing that this was a large-scale threat involving a heretical sect, he refused to waste a single second.
”Go back up right now.
Tell the senior priest that the God’s Punishment Legion will move immediately,” the inquisitor commanded in a deep, absolute voice.
Without arguing, the young priest immediately turned around and climbed the spiral staircase to leave the area.
As soon as the young priest departed, the inquisitor rose to his feet.
He strode swiftly toward the side of the stone wall adorned with relief carvings of the holy sun, then pressed a hidden mechanism shaped like a thorn-carved stone.
Clank…
rumble…
Five minutes passed in a stifling silence.
In the center of the room, illuminated only by the blue glow, the inquisitor stood rigid like a statue of steel.
Krrrr-ghhh!
Right after the five minutes had passed, the sound of a massive mechanical rumble echoed to every corner of the room.
The stone walls on two sides of the grand chamber slowly shifted, revealing two pitch-black secret tunnel mouths on each side.
From within each of those tunnels, rows of armored silver shadows began to step out in an orderly and highly disciplined fashion.
They were the elite members of the God’s Punishment Legion.
From each of those tunnels, exactly ten fully armed inquisitorial knights emerged—making a total of forty elite warriors standing on standby.
And right at the front line of one of the tunnels, a commanding figure clad in silver armor and a sapphire blue cloak stepped forward with an elegance that was deadly.
Inquisitor Isolde—the supreme leader of the covert operation—stared straight ahead with a cold gaze in the slits of her silver mask.
The heresy-cleansing operation in the capital officially began.
The footsteps of dozens of silver-armored warriors jingled in unison, breaking the silence of the night in the stone corridors of Gimle Palace.
Moving in a silent shadow formation with high discipline, the God’s Punishment Legion traversed the majestic corridors until they finally arrived at the western wing of the palace—the exclusive resting quarters prepared specifically for the House of Silver delegation.
Upon arriving in front of the lodging’s door, which was tightly guarded by the remaining northern knights, the dense sacred aura instantly caused the guards to shudder.
Without the need for a clash or debate, the northern knights, who recognized the emblem of the holy sun, immediately cleared the path respectfully.
Inside a room, Inquisitor Isolde stepped inside, her sapphire blue cloak dragging gracefully across the wooden floor. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
However, before focusing on purging the curse within, Isolde quickly waved her silver-gloved hand, giving a silent signal to her troops.
”Split up.
Secure the outer perimeter,” Isolde ordered in a flat yet authoritative voice.
Instantly, tactical movements took place.
Isolde herself remained inside the room with two elite members of the God’s Punishment Legion to directly handle the epicentre of the curse and restore Sir Raymond’s condition.
Meanwhile, nine other inquisitorial warriors immediately turned around, moving swiftly out of the building toward the courtyard and plaza of the palace’s western wing to conduct a thorough investigation.
Moving separately yet maintaining a tight coordination radius, the remaining inquisitor members scanned every inch of the ground, exterior walls, and even the drainage ditches around the lodging.
Using spirit aura, special magic skills belonging to the inquisitors, and the church’s magic tracking instruments, they searched for traces of foreign mana, remnants of shamanic rituals, or suspicious signs left behind by intruders from the Vallière faction before the grand celebration night of the morrow finally arrived.
Inside the master bedroom, which smelled of fresh blood and cursed spices, the focus shifted toward the bed where Sir Raymond lay dying.
Two members of the God’s Punishment Legion accompanying the inquisitor immediately took positions on the right and left sides of the bed.
Without wasting time, the two silver-armored knights extended their hands over the body of the border knight.
A warm, bluish-white radiance instantly exploded gently, forming a complex magic circle in the air.
”Tier 6 Healing Skill: Greater Restoration.”
A wave of extremely pure healing mana sank directly into Sir Raymond’s body, eroding the remnants of the black poison and regenerating his internal organ tissues that had nearly melted.
In Elena’s embrace, Aiden’s small eyes widened.
…His breath is held, while his chest feels tight, struck by a shockwave.
Wait…
Aiden thought inwardly, his breath catching in awe.
That’s…
Greater Restoration?
A pure Tier 6 healing magic skill from the game Pantheon?
How is it possible for the people of this world to use healing magic that is exactly identical to a Healer job in the game?!
Before Aiden’s shock could even subside, Inquisitor Isolde stepped forward to the center of the room.
Her silver mask stared straight at the wooden floor in the corner of the room where the foundation of the cursed incantation had previously been planted.
Isolde raised one silver-gloved hand, then murmured a low-frequency holy chant.
”Tier 7 Detection Skill: Divine Panopticon.”
A pillar of golden light, thin yet extremely sharp, struck down from the bedroom ceiling, scanning every layer of invisible particles in that room.
The remnants of the curse’s residue, traces of shamanic energy, and even the slightest ripples of mana were exposed without mercy, ensuring no hidden threats were left behind.
Seeing the glowing golden radiance, Aiden froze even further.
Divine Panopticon?!
Aiden screamed internally, nearly losing control over his toddler facial expression.
That’s a Tier 7 exclusive surveillance skill belonging to the High Paladin job used to counter stealth and dark magic!
This world…
really uses the exact same game system?!
Unbeknownst to Aiden, Elena’s sharp eyes, which had been looking down at her younger brother all along, caught the drastic change in expression on that tiny face. Follow the newest chapters on novelping.com.
Elena saw a flash of wonder and extraordinary shock in Aiden’s eyes as he stared at the glowing light of the inquisitors’ holy magic.
The girl smiled softly, then brought her face closer to Aiden’s ear, whispering gently, assuming her little brother was simply fascinated by the magnificence of the holy magic.
”Interested in their magic, Aiden?” Elena whispered softly, gently stroking Aiden’s cheek.
“The magic of these inquisitors is indeed different from the regular circle magic studied by the mages in the royal Magic Tower.”
Elena continued her explanation in a whispering tone, comparing the magic systems commonly used in that world.
”If ordinary circle magic—like the one mastered by Mother—is created directly by humans in this world by forming a circle inside the heart and projecting the magic shape gradually, the flow allows us to use magic almost instantly in various situations.
But…” Elena glanced briefly at Isolde, who was still surrounded by the glowing holy light, “…the magic of these gods is far more powerful and pure.”
Hugging Aiden tighter amidst the tension in the room, Elena introduced a bit of historical lore she knew.
”Legend has it that such magic was taught directly by the gods since the Era of Chaos, a time when the world was nearly on the verge of collapse.
And specifically for the Kingdom of Winterfell—the holy fortress in the south of the Borealis continent—they claim that this highest stream of holy magic was passed down directly by the Goddess of Light herself to her loyal followers.”
Hearing Elena’s explanation, Aiden’s inner self churned violently.
Beneath his cute facade as a toddler of just over two years old, his mind raced, weighing the terrifying implications of what he had just witnessed.
Tier 6 and Tier 7 holy magic…
that’s no coincidence, Aiden thought with a held breath.
The magic structure, skill names, and even the mechanics are identical to the game Pantheon.
That realization did not make him feel like he had the upper hand; on the contrary, a chilling sensation ran straight down his spine.
Through his innate talent, Aiden realized that his soul’s synchronization rate with his six legendary characters was currently at a pitifully low level—having just reached 3 percent.
In this brutal, unmapped, and perilous new world, 3 percent power was merely a thin thread that could snap at any moment.
Moreover, seeing the reality that the game system was genuinely manifesting in the real world, Aiden immediately drew the logical conclusion that had been haunting him:
The gods worshiped in this world…
could they be former Players?
That speculation flashed sharply in his mind.
What if the god-creators of that holy magic were actually top-tier Rankers, or even holders of System Relics—or worse yet, Genesis Relics from the game era?
Thinking of an even crazier possibility made Aiden’s chest tighten further.
In Pantheon: Twenty-One Worlds Online, there were only 21 people in the entire world who held exclusive world-champion job titles like his own: The Unrivaled (or Tenka Fubu).
If other world-champion title holders had also transmigrated to this world, or if there were Players who had managed to obtain broken hidden jobs like Ignis Null—which once shattered the game’s meta-balance—their existence could spell pure disaster for the entire continent.
I must be even more careful, Aiden warned himself, clenching his tiny fists tightly inside Elena’s embrace.
Moving too hastily without preparation is tantamount to suicide.
Yet, instead of shrinking back in fear, the blood flowing inside Aiden’s small body boiled hot.
The surge of adrenaline he hadn’t felt for decades as a veteran gamer was now reigniting his fighting spirit.
This new world was no longer just digital pixels it was a real, much vaster, more challenging, and deadlier battlefield.
Behind his clear, sparkling eyes, a subtle smile crept onto his small lips.
This world…
is truly fascinating.