The Academy’s Sashimi Sword Master

“Ha, haha.”

The Pope only laughed. His voice was so faint it could barely be heard. The next moment, he shook his head. In his condition, that gesture must have been the last effort he could muster.

“That the Heavenly Sword would even think of this dying old man… I don’t know where to hide. Just that thought alone makes me truly grateful… cough, cough!”

A harsh cough overtook him. I immediately pulled a handkerchief from the box beside the water bottle. When I checked it, it was stained red.

Rather than showing pain, the Pope seemed more embarrassed in front of me.

“…Hoho, forgive me. I called upon such a precious man only to have him care for a sickly old one. How shameful.”

“What are you saying? It’s no burden at all.”

I carefully folded the stained handkerchief. There was so much blood that the pocket where I placed it became damp.

‘He must be in terrible pain.’

Just by looking at the machine that tracked his pulse, I could tell. The green line rose and fell in an alarming pattern. Even to my non-medical eyes, the wave was far too unstable. It wasn’t simply because he was at the end of his life.

I moved my lips with difficulty, as if their dryness had multiplied in that instant.

“It hurts… doesn’t it?”

“Yes. It hurts.”

A slight curve formed on his mouth.

“But, Heavenly Sword, I believe even this pain is a gift the world has given me.”

“Pain as a gift? That’s hard to understand.”

It was too deep. For someone like me, it was nearly impossible to empathize.

“Hoho, it’s not that I suddenly discovered some strange new hobby at the last minute. I wouldn’t want you to misinterpret my final path.”

“I never thought that. And besides, if you’re joking like this, that means you’re still strong.”

“If a walking corpse can still have a conversation, then yes, I’m strong.”

The Pope, gathering his last breath, treated me with humor. Seeing he was thirsty, I placed a straw in the water bottle and brought it to his lips. He took a sip with effort, and his expression brightened—though only slightly.

“Having endured so much pain, this water tastes sweet to me.”

“…Please consider it again. As you know, my power can’t cure you, but I can ease your suffering.”

“Heavenly Sword.”

“Yes.”

“Would this old man be allowed, on his final path, to give you a brief and perhaps tedious lesson?”

“Of course. If possible, I would listen all day for an entire week. After all, we haven’t had many chances to speak.”

“I wish the same, but I fear my strength won’t last that long.”

The Pope closed his eyes, as if to gather his voice. The sound of phlegm in his throat had vanished. And when he opened them again, a solemn glow shone in his pupils.

“This universe, Heavenly Sword, where there is creation there is destruction, where there is growth there is aging, and where there is development, there is also decay.”

“I know.”

“This is merely the doctrine of the Church of the Outer God. We serve the one who governs the entire universe. At least in this world, it can be considered a truth.”

His words were somewhat complex.

I am a sword god—and also a foreign god. But, to be precise, the Outer God worshipped by the Church isn’t me, but rather a different entity—the sum of all Sword Gods existing across all timelines.

‘G.M.’

That was the title the Church gave their Outer God.

The G.M. was, in fact, the closest thing to what is commonly understood as a “true” God. Very different from a half-demigod like me.

‘That I’m recognized as an Outer God is only because I was the sole being in the universe capable of eradicating the false gods.’

In conclusion, what the Pope was trying to convey to me in his final sermon must have brushed against the universal truth.

I, barely a demigod by race, stood before a man who had dedicated his entire human life to pursuing truth.

I had to listen.

‘Maybe what he’s about to tell me…’

‘Could this be a clue about the final, true Apocalypse to come?’

The Pope looked at me intently and continued speaking.

“This universe is like a balloon. If you press one side, the other inflates. Do you understand?”

“That to obtain something, one must inevitably give something up. That’s how I understand it.”

“You’re intelligent. If my hands still had strength, I’d ruffle your hair.”

“Please, go on.”

“Even if the Heavenly Sword were to ease the pain of this illness that consumes me, that suffering wouldn’t vanish from the universe forever.”

“…Though at least for now, it would be extinguished…”

“It would only seem extinguished. Not now, but eventually it will flow into another form, and someone else, in my place, will suffer it even more deeply.”

“……”

Karma.

In Korean, it translates as retribution.

“That is the weight of karma, Heavenly Sword.”

The Pope moved his hand toward me with all his remaining strength. Mine met his, and in that grip, his voice grew stronger.

“Everything must be paid with an equal price. The time may be soon or late, but that arrow called karma always returns to this world.”

“Then… if I cut away Your Holiness’s suffering, someone else will bear an even greater pain?”

“Heavenly Sword. As long as my body allows it, I wish to carry as much pain as I can with me. Not only the pain of the believers of the Church of the Outer God, but of all that exists in this world…”

Countless memories and sorrows passed through his eyes. Though the wrinkles on his face were deep, the life in his gaze was as vigorous as that of a young man.

“But I was born a limited man… I can’t bear the pain of all beings.”

“Don’t say that, Your Holiness. You already…”

I didn’t finish the sentence. My teeth left marks on my lower lip.

‘No wonder I thought it strange.’

Red lines, cuts invisible to the naked eye.

Seen through the eyes of a Sword God, his body was like…

‘A mummy wrapped from head to toe in crimson threads.’

It was a miracle he could even speak with me. As if invisible blades were slicing him relentlessly.

With a dry throat, I swallowed and murmured:

“Now I understand why you insisted on staying in a shared ward with twenty beds.”

“…Hoho. That was a secret I wanted to take to the grave. How embarrassing.”

Indeed.

Throughout his hospitalization, the Pope had been bearing the pain of the nineteen other intensive care patients. Twenty, counting his own. All that weight—he had taken it on alone.

I looked around the room. Now it made sense—they hadn’t cleared out the patients just because I was coming. Judging by the belongings piled up, they were in the middle of being discharged. The Church had surely asked them for a favor—to allow the room to be vacated for a few hours for this meeting.

It probably wasn’t hard to accept.

‘After all, the patients must’ve miraculously improved.’

Thanks to the Pope’s grace, they would’ve recovered, and gladly gave up their space.

…This man had been fighting, alone, the illness of twenty terminal patients.

“Even the believers outside don’t know.”

I understood instantly.

I nodded.

“I’ll keep it secret.”

“I beg you to grant me this as my final request.”

“If you have more, say them all.”

“May I?”

The Pope hesitated, then said.

“I, limited as I am, can barely handle twenty. But you, Heavenly Sword, are different. You can carry the entire universe. And if you’ll forgive the irreverence, in my eyes, your vessel is even vaster than the Outer God to whom I dedicated my life of study.”

“Those words are too much.”

“They are not.”

The Pope played with my hand. His fingers were so thin they felt like branches brushing against my skin.

“These days, the world is in turmoil…”

Creatures beyond demons and their generals had invaded the earth. Fortunately, we managed to repel them twice.

‘But I can no longer guarantee it.’

After two encounters, the trend was clear: the final Apocalypse would come in an evolved form, learning from its past defeats.

“As a believer, I shouldn’t say this, but… ten years ago, this world should have paid a higher price.”

The Second Great Human-Demon War.

“However, thanks to your feats, the number of casualties dropped drastically. It was a miracle.”

I understood.

“…I see.”

“The magnitude of that miracle—sooner or later, this world will repay it in pain.”

Ten years.

Karma had taken that long to return like an arrow.

The lives I saved—

The world would collect them with interest.

In the vision of the Suppression Power, this timeline, blessed by Miracle M, should have delivered a blood payment ten years ago. But I stopped it.

The day everyone celebrated… was the same day this world conceived its future Apocalypses.

“So it was already decided… ten years ago.”

“Don’t blame yourself. You did what had to be done.”

The Pope smiled kindly.

Then, hardening his expression, he asked:

“May I ask you one question?”

“Yes.”

“If this world evades paying its karma, and that arrow points directly at you… what would you do?”

“I’ll take it.”

“…Hah. I expected that, and yet…”

The Pope murmured bitterly.

Then, with resolve, he looked at me.

“Heavenly Sword, squeeze my hand a little tighter.”

I obeyed.

In an instant—

Wooooooom…

A faint vibration.

The water in the bottle trembled. The curtains swayed even though the windows were closed.

From the Pope’s hand emanated a warm light that traveled across my skin, penetrated my veins.

I knew it immediately.

It was sacred power.

“Your… Your Holiness…”

The grip of his hand loosened.

“Though little, I have transferred to the Heavenly Sword all the sacred power I’ve gathered throughout my life.”

“…B-but…”

“I don’t know if it will serve you. If not, then so be it. But, if I may praise myself a bit, I tried to live without sin. And if this is the fruit of that life, then I at least hope it may help you… even just a little.”

He released my hand.

I looked at my palm, then closed my fist.

“Is there a wish… you want to leave behind?”

I had only received. If I had even a shred of conscience, I at least had to listen to his final desire.

“A wish… huh?”

The Pope turned his gaze toward the window.

The contrails of airplanes slid gently across the sky.

“…That this world may always have sunny days.”

The Pope of the Church of the Outer God, until the very end, continued to encourage the world—and me.

“It will. Your wish will come true.”

Because I will make it a reality.

After all, the fragment of the Outer God he prayed to all his life—was me.