Roman sat silently, staring at the prophecy book as its final words echoed in his mind.
"…and when the chosen one arrives — hope will rise… or all will fall."
For a moment, everything around him faded. The voices.
The room.
Even the gold aura within him.
Only one thought remained.
> Two fronts… opened at the same time.
And I am still lacking… I am still incomplete.
Operation Specter was running in Ephor Dukedom — Phase Two was close to ignition. And now… a massive dungeon outbreak was approaching. A scale beyond anything humanity had faced.
Roman's heartbeat grew heavy. He remembered the first dungeon breakout — the shattered streets, the dying screams, and the moment he unleashed everything… only to collapse for eight days, unconscious, with his Yin-Yang cores damaged nearly beyond repair.
"If the Shadow System didn't intervene back then… I might have died," he thought, touching his temple.
"And now… this prophecy… these fallen demonic angels…"
For the first time — genuine pressure weighed on his shoulders.
Ezra Violet leaned forward, her tone worried. "Sir Roman… are you alright? You don't look well."
Roman blinked, coming back to reality. He exhaled slowly and stood.
"I'm fine," he replied calmly. "But I have something important to say."
All eyes focused on him. The 12 Holy Paladins. The Pope. The Archbishops. High priests and nuns. The guardians of the Holy Empire.
Roman spoke firmly:
> "I request two things.
First — do not reveal my identity to anyone.
Second — I am the youngest here. Don't call me 'sir' or speak formally.
Just… call me Roman. Please."
A silence followed. Pope Lucius Seraphael nodded gently.
"As you wish, Roman. But… we have an issue."
Roman's eyes narrowed. "What issue?"
The Pope hesitated, then spoke carefully.
"Your identity… has already been revealed to King Augustus Nova. He knows that you are the Warherald."
Roman's chair scraped as he stood. "WHAT?!"
He caught himself, inhaled deeply, and spoke softer.
"…Sorry. I spoke out of turn.
But… WHY tell him?"
The Pope answered steadily.
"It was necessary. The Warherald must eventually stand before the world — to give hope… and proof that Goddess Aria is with humanity once more."
Roman closed his eyes for a moment.
Hope… or pressure?
Strength… or a burden disguised as destiny?
He slowly opened his eyes.
"It's done. I won't complain. I'll handle it my way. But from now… no one else learns about my identity without my permission. Understood?"
The Pope nodded. "We understand, Roman. That is our promise."
Roman placed both hands on the table.
"Now… we need a plan. And a big one.
To fight what is coming… we must mobilize everything you have.
Start by telling me how many Paladin units and regiments the Holy Empire can deploy during the dungeon outbreak."
Archbishop Desmond Herman stood, opening a thick military dossier and an enchanted map.
He began to speak clearly:
> "The Holy Empire of Arcania possesses the strongest holy force on the continent."
• 12 Paladin Regiments — each led by a Captain
• 1 Supreme Captain — Gabriel Velk (present)
• Total Paladin Count: 9,000 active, 4,500 reserve
• Holy Mages & Clerics: 3,200
• Exorcist Orders: 1,800
• Blessed Archers: 1,200
• Temple Shieldbearers: 3,000 defensive units
• Total Mobilizable Force: 22,700
Pope added:
> "Every Paladin Regiment is trained to defend entire kingdoms.
The Holy Empire alone… can protect four nations simultaneously — if needed."
Ezra spoke next. "During the first dungeon breakout… a single Paladin regiment nearly collapsed. If a massive outbreak happens… even our full force might struggle."
Pope nodded. "That is why… we will also activate the Sanctum Protocol."
The room grew tensely quiet.
Archbishop Desmond continued:
> Sanctum Protocol — Dungeon Breakout Defense Plan
1. Each Paladin regiment will guard each kingdom & capital city.
2. Holy Mages create portable purification barriers.
3. Exorcists will scout lands for demonic influences.
4. Clerics will begin mass blessings & healing camps.
5. All borders & air patrols will be placed on full alert.
6. If a dungeon gate appears — a full holy strike squad will be deployed instantly.
7. At your command, Roman… the Holy Warhorn will be sounded — summoning all allied nations."
Roman listened in silence… then slowly smiled.
> "Good.
Then prepare them. Because once the dungeon gates open…
This world will not bow to darkness.
Not while I still breathe."
No one spoke. But everyone felt it.
In that moment… Roman was not just a noble from Presia Dukedom.
He was the Warherald.
Humanity's last hope.
The light before extinction.
The heir of the end.
And the storm was coming.