Chapter 22: Deception
In the dim room, the candle flames settled back into their steady sway.
Lucian brought his feelings under control and pushed the irritating thoughts about Silshana aside for now. He raised his head, looked at the Supreme Pontiff still kneeling on the floor, and let his expression return to calm.
"There is naturally a reason for it."
His voice was unhurried, carrying a composure entirely at odds with his age.
The Supreme Pontiff raised his head, those clouded eyes full of devout attention. The candlelight moved across that aged face, making every deep line in it stand out with greater clarity.
"Players who come to this world possess great power," Lucian paused, his gaze moving to the tapestry of the Lady of Death on the wall, "but their lifespan is constrained by their race."
The Supreme Pontiff gave a small nod. This much he knew. Of the Six Great Gods, all but the Lady of Death had passed on when their lifespans ran out. Even the Lady of Death herself had fallen in battle five hundred years ago, defending the Theocracy.
"My race is also human."
Lucian brought his gaze back to the old man kneeling before him.
"My lifespan is limited."
He said it quietly, but the Supreme Pontiff's body gave a faint shiver at the words.
Something complicated moved across that aged face.
Yes -- the Lord God of Judgment might stand above all gods, but he was human in race, and a hundred years from now...
"So I chose to use a World Item."
Lucian's voice cut through the Pontiff's thoughts.
"This body is the product of that World Item."
He raised his hand and looked at it -- that smooth, slight hand, unmistakably a six-year-old's. Candlelight fell across the back of it, making the thin skin almost translucent, the faint blue of veins just visible beneath.
"Though it is weak, my true body can be held in a state of suspended time."
He lowered his hand and looked back at the Supreme Pontiff.
"It extends my lifespan indirectly. The cost is that I am temporarily unable to draw on my previous power."
Lucian was not telling the truth.
A god who temporarily cannot use his power and a god who has completely lost his power are two different things.
He was not naive enough to place all his hopes on a stranger's faith, however flawless that faith appeared to be.
The Supreme Pontiff was silent for a few seconds.
Then he bowed deeply, his forehead nearly touching the cold floor.
"The lengths you have gone to, planning for humanity in this way..." His voice caught. "This old man thanks you, on behalf of the Theocracy."
Lucian looked at the old figure prostrate on the floor and said nothing.
The room was quiet for a few seconds.
Then Lucian spoke, and there was something different in his voice.
"Since the Theocracy recognizes my standing as a god."
He paused.
"Then the commands of a 'god.' "
The Supreme Pontiff raised his head. In those clouded eyes, not a trace of hesitation.
"Will naturally be obeyed."
In those eyes, only pure and near-absolute devotion.
Lucian looked at him and was silent for a moment.
Then he reached into his coat and drew out several sheets of paper, folded with careful precision. The paper was high-quality sheepskin parchment, the edges cut with exact evenness, covered in dense writing. It was the content Lucian had arrived at after countless rounds of deliberation and revision.
"Then I ask that you carry out these matters."
He held the pages out.
The Supreme Pontiff received them with both hands, then lowered his head and read carefully by the wavering candlelight.
The pages trembled faintly between those thin fingers.
The first item. The second. The third.
His brow furrowed first, then gradually smoothed, and finally settled into an expression of quiet contemplation.
The candlelight moved between them, making the writing on the pages shift between light and shadow.
After some time, the Supreme Pontiff raised his head. In those clouded eyes, a thread of puzzlement.
"These are..."
His voice paused, as though measuring his words.
The items seemed entirely unrelated on the surface. Keep Lucian's identity secret. Spread certain rumors. Find someone. And then... even a specific requirement to keep every current Theocracy plan and policy unchanged.
None of this would be difficult for the Theocracy.
But the question was—
Why?
Lucian watched that puzzled face and let the corner of his mouth rise slightly.
"There is no reason not to tell you."
His voice was level, the way someone sounds discussing something perfectly ordinary.
"Thirteen years from now, a powerful guild of heteromorphic Players will descend."
The Supreme Pontiff's pupils contracted sharply.
"The world will be enveloped in its terrible rule."
Lucian's tone remained even, but in those pale green eyes there was now something heavy.
"These preparations are to deal with that guild."
He did not name Ainz Ooal Gown. He did not give any specifics about the guild's true power.
Some things, said aloud, would only cause panic where panic helped no one.
The Supreme Pontiff went still.
Across that aged face, expressions moved one after another, shock, disbelief, then deep and settled concern.
Thirteen years...
A guild of heteromorphic Players...
How did the Lord God of Judgment know of events thirteen years hence? And this guild...
The Supreme Pontiff drew a long breath and pressed every extraneous question down. He raised his head again, and in those clouded eyes now there was only something close to absolute resolve.
"Lord God of Judgment, please have no concern."
His voice no longer trembled. It was steady as stone.
"The Theocracy will carry out your divine commands."
Lucian looked at him.
The candlelight moved between them, lighting every line in that aged face with perfect clarity. Those lines held the marks of years, and beneath that, something older. Something that had been there much longer.
Faith.
Lucian let out a quiet, inward breath of relief.
Plan C's preliminary preparations were settled, at last.
He brought his gaze back to the tapestry of the Lady of Death on the wall. The Silshana depicted there held a scythe, her expression solemn, watching the two people in the room with those skull eyes that would never close.
Lucian looked at her for a moment.
Hakisha. In the end he was relying on power that Hakisha had left behind. He caught himself on the edge of that thought and felt something wry move through him.
Through deception, no less.
The Supreme Pontiff had already risen, folding the pages with care and placing them inside his robes.
"Then next—"
Lucian brought his thoughts back and looked toward him.
"Let me see what my companions left behind."
The Supreme Pontiff paused for a moment, then a look of quiet understanding settled on his face.
"Please follow me."
He turned and walked with steady steps toward the door at the far end of the room, a door that had been hidden behind the tapestry, now pushed open to reveal a stone staircase descending into shadow. Candlelight from the room spilled in and fell on the top steps in a small, dim patch of amber. Beyond that, there was nothing but dark.
Lucian followed him toward the stairs.
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