Chapter 163 — The Cardinal's Secret
"Think carefully," Hans said coldly.
"Archbishop Levi of the Exorcism Institute.
Archbishop Dorian of St. Paul's Cathedral in Washington.
And Sister Eve Haywood of the Crystal Cathedral."
"I have… excellent relationships with all of them."
Gideon nodded thoughtfully.
Among those names, he only recognized Levi—
that man had once threatened him at St. Jehovah's Church.
As for the other two, they were no ordinary figures either.
One served in the capital of the United States, in a cathedral proclaimed to be the sixth largest in the world.
The other presided over a diocesan church in California that fused religion with modern art—
a place with enormous influence across North America.
Anyone who could sit in such positions was undoubtedly a heavyweight.
But Gideon had a Vatican envoy standing behind him.
He had no reason to fear.
"Thank you," he said calmly, looking at Hans.
"For handing over your accomplices. I'll report everything to Archbishop Jolan."
"You—!"
Hans burst into anger, but he recovered quickly.
The moment Gideon mentioned Jolan's name, Hans knew—
He had been exposed.
"How did you find out?" he demanded.
He had acted meticulously.
So where had he slipped up?
"Find out?" Gideon echoed in surprise.
"Was that really necessary?"
He stared at Hans.
"Who commits a crime in their own territory?
With your connections, don't you even understand that a rabbit doesn't foul its own burrow?"
"And you didn't clean up after yourself," Gideon continued indifferently.
"You left a loose end alive… and even let her investigate inside the seminary."
"If this is what you call being careful, then even street thugs deserve to be called artists."
Hans's face flushed crimson.
He knew exactly who Gideon was talking about.
Back then, he hesitated because he feared that woman had a backup plan.
Looking back now—
He never should have operated inside Dey Theological Seminary in the first place.
With so many churches in Philadelphia, he could have easily framed another one.
Yet instead—
Hans lifted his head sharply.
"Are you really Church?" he asked harshly.
"If you're here to arrest me, why are you lecturing me like a teacher?"
"Sorry," Gideon shrugged.
"You're so amateur, I couldn't resist."
Hans clenched his teeth, forcing the rage down.
"Then let's talk conditions," he said through gritted teeth.
"Whatever the Church offers you—we can offer the same."
Gideon ignored him and pulled out more holy relics from his bag.
"Top-tier divine artifacts.
Slaves.
Wealth…"
"Or power," Hans pressed urgently.
"You've heard of Infusion, haven't you? Real demonic power—bestowed directly."
"What do you want?" he demanded.
"And why are you setting even more relics around me?!"
Gideon stood up.
"In case you try to escape," he said dryly.
"I'm reinforcing the cage."
Hans fell silent.
Then, as if a thought struck him, his eyes gleamed.
"If you truly belong to the Vatican, you'll eventually climb the ranks…"
"Do you know the secret of the Cardinals?"
The moment Hans spoke those words, Gideon stopped what he was doing.
Seeing hesitation appear on Gideon's face, Hans sensed an opportunity and immediately pressed on.
"There are seven ranks within the Church," he said.
"A priest is only the second rank—anyone who knows basic exorcism can qualify."
"But a Cardinal is different.
Aside from great service to the Church, one must cultivate an enormous reserve of holy power."
He stared at Gideon.
"Do you know why?"
Gideon shook his head faintly.
"Not interested."
And he went back to preparing his ritual.
Hans froze.
Then anger boiled up inside him.
That's not how negotiations are supposed to work!
But seeing that the young priest had no intention of stopping, Hans could only force himself to keep talking.
"Above the Cardinals," he said, grinding his teeth,
"is the position of Pope."
"To become Pope, one must master a supreme secret rite of the Church—
a ritual that allows an angel to descend and possess the body."
"But divine power… is never something a mortal body can bear."
"That ritual consumes the caster's lifespan."
"However," Hans lowered his voice,
"in the Church's thousand-year history, a method was found to avoid that price."
"It is called… Sacred Oil."
"After being anointed, the oil releases the holy power sealed within it, preventing the loss of vital force."
"And do you know," he said chillingly,
"what Sacred Oil is made from?"
"It is made from… Cardinals."
Gideon's eyebrow twitched.
This revelation finally caught his interest.
When he had first encountered holy oil, he had searched desperately for information on the so-called Sacred Oil—
yet every record had vanished, as if erased from history.
He hadn't expected the truth to be this grotesque.
"…Does Jolan know?" Gideon asked quietly.
Hans snorted.
"Even he isn't qualified.
This secret is known only among Cardinals."
He had clearly abandoned the idea of using this information as a bargaining chip for survival.
"Then how do you know?" Gideon asked.
Hans smiled darkly.
"Because I have a demon god behind me."
"Those old men have lived for centuries.
Even if you make it all the way to the top…"
"You'll probably become nothing more than a stepping stone for their ascension."
"Otherwise," he sneered,
"why has the Church never had a young Cardinal in all of history?"
Gideon said nothing.
He did not ask why the Cardinals tolerated such a system.
The answer was obvious.
Power.
Interest.
Exchange.
He exhaled softly.
So the Church is still the Church after all.
Faith does not erase the darkness in human nature.
After reinforcing three more isolation seals around Hans, Gideon finally stood.
"Ha," Hans sneered.
"You arrogant fool. One day, you'll become nothing more than a sacrifice of the Church."
"Ignore him," Gideon said calmly, rubbing his chin.
"These are only isolation barriers. You won't die any time soon."
Silence fell.
Hans glared at him with venomous eyes—
but said nothing more.
With a shrug, Gideon picked up his bag and walked away.
He drew back the curtain.
Beyond it lay the Sacrificial Array.
Inside it, dozens of children lay trembling.
Their faces were flushed red, their breathing ragged.
Some were already bleeding from the nose.
Above them, a cross levitated weakly in the air—
Its holy power nearly exhausted from shielding so many lives at once.
Gideon did not hesitate.
He began at once.
When the Reversal Array was completed—
The cross shattered into pure light.
At the same time, the sacrificial formation surged violently.
The children collapsed again, screaming in pain.
But it wasn't over.
From the blood-red glow of the array—
Dozens of crimson figures began to emerge.
They were human-shaped.
Child-sized.
Their bodies translucent red.
Cold.
Silent.
"…Past offerings?" Gideon murmured.
"Are these… the souls of previous sacrifices?"
The wraiths lunged immediately toward the living children.
Gideon released holy power at once, forcefully reversing the array's corruption.
Yet his expression quickly changed.
Something was wrong.
The resentment of these spirits was too intense—
So powerful it blocked the flow of holy energy itself.
His brow furrowed.
"Do I have no choice… but to exorcise them first?"
But there was no time.
The children would not last that long.
Then suddenly—
An idea struck him.
Gideon reached into his bag and withdrew the Talisman of the dead.
A cold, dark aura spilled into the air.
The undead turned immediately.
Drawn to it.
Seeing that it worked, Gideon raised his voice.
"…Kids," he said gently,
"Can we talk?"