Ten minutes earlier, inside the temple of the God of Pain—
A group of thorn priests had gathered together. Among them were trainees who had just entered the temple, as well as elderly priests who had served for decades.
At the center of the crowd, a pope dressed in a magnificent crimson robe stood guard over a young priest.
Although no one dared utter a sound and the air was deathly still, the Painful Pope still raised his hand and cast a high-level silencing spell.
A faint curtain of light appeared in the air beside him.
At that moment, the screen displayed footage of the young priest playing Dark Souls.
In the scene, the monstrous Gundyr let out a furious roar. The writhing, tentacle-like mass behind him suddenly straightened and shot forward like lightning, aiming straight at the young priest.
Under the tense gazes of everyone present, the young priest bit his lip and leapt.
The devastating strike—powerful enough to split stone—swept just beneath his feet, kicking up a cloud of gray mist as it passed.
He had dodged it.
A collective sigh of relief rippled silently through the crowd.
Though they could not speak, the intensity in their eyes made the atmosphere tremble.
The Painful Pope outwardly appeared calm, but only he knew that his left hand, gripping the scepter, was already soaked with sweat.
The gold-threaded wooden staff felt rough against his palm, and the faint sting it caused sharpened his focus.
That very morning, the God of Pain had issued a divine decree—every priest was to play Dark Souls.
According to his intelligence network, both the God of Hope and the God of Heroes had issued the same command.
The God of Pain and the God of Hope were mortal enemies, and though the God of Heroes was less prominent, she was still a Spirit God of considerable power.
The best way to please their deity was clear:
Become the first to defeat Gundyr.
The young priest surrounded by the crowd was the fastest progressing player in the Temple of Pain.
Earlier that day, he had already reached Gundyr's second phase consistently. After countless deaths and retries, this was his best chance yet.
Under the weight of countless gazes, the young priest knew—
This was no longer just a game.
This was his future. His destiny.
The first among the three temples to defeat Gundyr would undoubtedly rise to prominence.
He could not afford even the slightest mistake.
At that very moment, he even felt as though the great God of Pain Himself was watching him.
As if basking in that unseen radiance, a faint smile crept onto his lips.
"Damn it, what are you smiling for, kid?!"
At the edge of his divine kingdom, the God of Pain watched the scene unfold, irritation flashing across his face.
At a moment like this, shouldn't every ounce of focus be on the fight?
Why smile?!
Through his divine perception, he could sense that the Temples of Hope and Heroes were also locked in fierce competition.
"Strive for the first kill of Gundyr and bring glory to our god!"
But from what he had secretly observed, their progress lagged behind his own temple.
If he could secure the first kill before the God of Hope—
Wouldn't that be the perfect slap to his rival's face?
His gaze locked onto the screen.
By his calculations, victory was within reach.
Fifteen seconds.
Just fifteen seconds more.
"We're going to win…" he muttered, a hint of excitement rising—
Then suddenly, an inexplicable sense of dread crept into his heart.
Inside the temple, the young priest dodged another attack.
His face flushed with excitement, victory already within his grasp.
All he needed to do was step forward—
Swing his sword—
And claim the final blow.
He could already see his future unfolding before him—
But at that very moment, his sword stopped.
It met resistance.
The world froze.
The surrounding scene locked in place, as if time itself had been paused.
Confusion flickered across his face.
He had never encountered this before.
Then—
A system announcement echoed across the sky:
[Attention all players]
[Dark Souls boss Gundyr, the Ashen One, has been first defeated by player "Clear Breeze"]
Three seconds later, the world resumed.
His sword pierced through Gundyr's body.
With a final wail, the boss dissolved into gray smoke and vanished.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
The young priest stood there, staring blankly at the sky.
He had won—
And yet, he had nothing.
Second place.
The sky of Dark Souls remained ashen, shrouded in endless clouds.
Yet as he stared upward, it felt as though he were looking directly into a blazing sun.
Tears streamed down his face.
"No…"
At the edge of the divine realm, the God of Pain snapped.
He dropped to the ground, crawling like a madman, his expression twisted.
As the deity who embodied "pain," the overwhelming anguish surged through his own body, transforming into pure divine power that flooded into him.
"It hurts! It hurts so much!"
Across countless worlds, players who had been fighting Gundyr felt the same crushing wave of pain—especially those in the Temples of Hope and Heroes.
Inside the Temple of Pain, wails erupted.
Even the Pope collapsed before the idol, clutching it tightly as he sobbed.
"I've failed you… I've failed you…"
The young priest who had come in second stood motionless.
Then suddenly—
He laughed.
A twisted, broken smile spread across his face.
"I won… I'm number one… I won…"
Muttering to himself, he staggered out of the temple, disheveled and hollow.
For the first time, the God of Pain experienced something unprecedented—
Pain intertwined with pleasure.
An overwhelming surge of power flooded his divine core, filling it to the brim.
Where once it had never been half full, now it was swelling beyond capacity.
Even he could not withstand it.
Pain from countless worlds continued pouring into him without end.
His body began to expand, like a balloon stretched to its limit.
"I can't… take this…"
With no other choice, he made a decisive move.
He severed his connection to the outside world.
Adjusted himself into a comfortable position—Rolled his eyes back and fainted on his throne.