He regarded me, reading the hatred in my eyes. "I know you despise me for what I have done to your so-called precious island and its people. But the wrath of the gods is absolute, and their grace was sufficient for them."

  With his hands pressed together in prayer, he continued, "Truth as the agent. I know that I present the problem in difficult words, but there is nothing in the word of truth that is difficult. After the solution appeared, to ensure that nothing remained hidden and everything was openly revealed, two essentials were required: the destruction of evil and the revelation of the elect. This solution entails the emanation of truth and spirit, and the grace bestowed by truth."

  His voice rang with conviction. "Light and darkness, life and death, right and left—all are siblings of one another, inseparable. For this reason, the good are not purely good, the bad are not wholly bad, life is not simply life, nor is death merely death. Each will dissolve into its original nature. But what is superior to the world cannot be dissolved, for it is eternal."

  His confidence was absolute. "You proclaim yourself the Messiah of this world, but you are not. You are a fraud. You think titles will grant you ascension, but they will not."

  He took a step forward. "You believe that possessing the absolute name makes you unkillable. But you are mistaken, Joseph. I know far more than you can ever imagine."

  His words carried a finality that sent a shiver through the air. "Wisdom and the Wisdom of Death. There is Echamoth, and there is Echmoth. Echamoth is simply wisdom. But Echmoth—the wisdom of death—is the wisdom that knows death. That is what they call 'little wisdom.'"

  "The names of worldly things are utterly deceptive, for they turn the heart from what is real to what is unreal. Whoever hears the word 'god' thinks not of what is real but rather of what is unreal. So also with the words 'father,' 'son,' 'holy spirit,' 'life,' 'light,' 'resurrection,' 'church,' and all the rest; people do not think of what is real but of what is unreal, though the words refer to what is real. The words that are heard belong to this world. Do not be deceived. If words belonged to the eternal realm, they would never be pronounced in this world, nor would they designate worldly things. They would refer to what is in the eternal realm," declared His Holiness, the Divine Pontiff.

  "Only one name is not pronounced in the world: the name the Father gave the Son. It is the name above all; it is the Father’s name. For the Son would not have become the Father if he had not put on the Father’s name. Those who have this name understand it but do not speak it. Those who do not have it cannot even comprehend it," he continued. "Truth brought forth names in the world for us, and no one can refer to truth without names. Truth is one and many, for our sakes, to teach us about the One, in love, through the many."

  He gazed at me with unwavering confidence before continuing. "Some say Mary became pregnant by the Holy Spirit. They are wrong and do not know what they are saying. When did a woman ever conceive by a woman?" He sneered. "Mary is the virgin whom none of the powers defiled. This is greatly repugnant to the Hebrews, who are the apostles and apostolic persons. This virgin, whom none of the powers defiled, wishes that the powers would defile themselves."

  He leaned forward slightly, his tone almost conspiratorial. "Our Lord tricked them all. He did not appear as he was but as he needed to be seen. To the great, he appeared as great; to the small, as small; to angels, as an angel; and to men, as a man. For this reason, his word was hidden from all. Some looked at him and saw only themselves. But when he appeared to his disciples in glory upon the mountain, he was not small. He became great—or rather, he made them great, so they could perceive his true magnitude."

  I felt the air grow heavier as realization dawned. "You are an Otherworlder like me!" I declared.

  His Holiness, the divine pontiff, smiled. "Yes, Joseph. Indeed, I am. Unlike you, I was shown the way and given a purpose by the One who is above all. Perhaps my little speeches about heavenly places made you realize where I had come from. Now you understand why this must be done by the Church."

  A growl rumbled low in my throat. We had fought, and now he lay incapacitated before me. I stepped forward, my fury unrelenting. "Why does everyone keep blaming mankind and not the gods? If humanity is made in their image and the gods claim to be flawless, shouldn't mankind be perfect as well? If they control the affairs of men and know both the beginning and the end, why punish us for following their grand design?"

  I knelt beside him, my voice rising in righteous anger. "I say human flaws are a reflection of the gods' own imperfections. If their creation is flawed, then so are they. So why worship beings who condemn us for their own errors? The flaws of man are the flaws of the gods, and vice versa. No one is perfect—not even them. Their understanding is no greater than human nature itself. So do not come to me speaking of their perfection, their love, their omniscience, or omnipotence. They are none of those things! They hide in the shadows of their own delusions!"

  I stood, my heart pounding, the weight of my words hanging in the silence. The divine pontiff did not answer. Perhaps, deep down, he knew I spoke the truth.

  ***[Other Translation]***

  He took a step forward. "Our Lord tricked everyone, for he did not appear as he was, but in a form they could perceive. He appeared to everyone. He appeared to the great as great, to the small as small, to angels as an angel, and to humans as a human. For this reason, his word was hidden from everyone. Some looked at him and thought they saw themselves. But when he appeared to his disciples in glory upon the mountain, he was not small. He became great—or rather, he made the disciples great so they could see him in his true grandeur."

  A realization dawned upon me, and I spoke with certainty. "You are an otherworlder like me!"

  His Holiness smirked. "Yes, Joseph. Indeed, I am. Unlike you, I was shown the way and given a purpose by the One who is above all. Perhaps my speeches about heavenly places have made you realize where I have come from. Now, you understand why this must be done by the Church."

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  I growled lowly, my anger simmering beneath the surface. The battle that followed was fierce, a collision of ideologies and raw power. But in the end, His Holiness lay incapacitated before me, his breath labored, his body broken. I stood over him, my fury unrestrained.

  "Why does everyone keep saying mankind is wicked while absolving the gods of blame?" My voice echoed with rage. "If humanity was created in the image of the gods, and the gods claim to be flawless, then shouldn’t mankind be perfect as well? And if the gods control the affairs of men, knowing both the beginning and the end, why punish humanity for it? If everything is unfolding according to their grand scheme, then they are responsible, not us!"

  I clenched my fists, my voice a storm of conviction. "To me, human flaws are a reflection of the flaws of the gods. If their creation is imperfect, then I say to you that even the gods have their flaws—flaws they refuse to admit! So why worship them if they will always punish humanity for their own errors? The flaws of humans are the flaws of the gods, and vice versa. No one is perfect, not even the gods. Their understanding is no greater than that of human nature. So do not come blabbering to me about how perfect, how loving, how all-knowing, all-powerful, and omnipresent they are—because they are not! They are simply hiding in the shadows of their own delusions."

  I stood there, my rage balanced by the weight of truth, staring down at the fallen Pontiff, awaiting his final response.

  At the end of our battle, I had hoped that the small mercy I had shown the Pontiff—simply by being an outworlder like him—might inspire a change in his ways. He had lost all his companions, his holy warriors, and the surviving angels lay dead at my feet, vanquished by me and my remaining subordinates. Just as I turned my back to walk away, believing the fight was over, the Pontiff prepared for one last desperate act to eliminate me.

  In silence, he prayed for the power of the Holy Spirit to fill him, a final plea for strength. But to his astonishment, Lucifer intervened, a dark specter of defiance. He absorbed the power of the Holy Spirit into himself—a reckless maneuver that had proven ineffective against him in the past. In a swift, brutal moment, he ended the Pontiff’s life.

  I turned to witness the death of the Pontiff at Lucifer's hands and asked if he had been harmed. “I’m fine,” he replied, though I couldn’t fathom how he had absorbed the Holy Spirit without suffering fatal consequences. Perhaps the name he bore, a reflection of his fractured personalities, granted him immunity.

  Yet, the war was far from over. Just when we believed that His Holiness, the divine Pontiff, was our last threat, two more figures emerged, ready to take his place in the mission to erase our island from existence. The Saint-Kings—or Saint-Queens—and The Voice of Eleleth stood before us, their presence radiating a power far greater than that of the Pontiff. They were here to finish what he had begun.

  Before my very eyes, the three beings fused into a singular entity of immense power—a manifestation of divine authority known as the Trinity. They wielded not only the power of the Holy Spirit but also the forces of ruach and shekhinah. When they spoke, their voices resonated with an authority that sent shivers down my spine, and then they launched themselves at me. I was done playing games; I was ready.

  Their speed was terrifying, a blur that caught me off guard. In an instant, the Trinity incapacitated Lucifer, Heylel, and Satan, leaving them reeling before they even realized what had happened. Only Heylel remained, barely clinging to life, while Lucifer and Satan had been exorcised by the Trinity’s overwhelming might.

  I rushed in just in time to save Heylel from the brink of death, and the battle with the Trinity commenced. Our clash shook the very foundations of our surroundings, the impact sending waves crashing violently against the shore. The skies erupted with blinding flashes as our powers collided, and in a heartbeat, we were thrust into the sixteenth layer of the Dark Dimension—a chaotic realm of suffocating darkness, filled with shadowy tendrils and whispers that sought to consume any being, mortal or immortal, who dared to enter.

  Yet, this realm favored me. Even as an archdemon, I felt empowered, and the Trinity struggled to keep pace with my ferocity. But our battle was not destined to remain in the shadows. In a surge of energy, we traversed to another realm, emerging in the Sixth Dimension of Light—a vast expanse so radiant it dwarfed multiverses and omniverses combined. The blinding purity of this place was every demon's nightmare, for its light could either obliterate or transform them into holy guardians.

  Even in this radiant realm, the Trinity, who believed they held the upper hand, were taken aback by how evenly matched we were. Our battle raged on, a fierce exchange of power and will. Despite their absorption of a significant portion of the dimension's light, they could hardly fathom that I, too, could draw strength from it.

  When we finally broke free from that dimension, we returned to the battlefield where it had all begun. The force of our final clash sent us both staggering backward, momentarily disoriented, before locking eyes in a silent acknowledgment of our shared resolve.

  Trinity, with a begrudging respect, commended my efforts for standing toe-to-toe with them. But then, with a grave expression, they produced a holy relic they referred to as their "last resort." As they sanctified it, their prayers to the gods resonated in the air, and the relics fused together, amplifying their power exponentially.

  “This will be my final act to end your existence,” Trinity declared, gathering their immense energy into a singular, cataclysmic force. The fusion of the Holy Spirit, ruach, and shekhinah coalesced into a divine blast aimed squarely at me. They were not merely boasting; the sheer magnitude of this attack, which they called Final Desolation, had the potential to obliterate everything in its path, including me.

  The blast swelled, a monstrous orb of energy that dwarfed anything I had ever witnessed. To the naked eye, it appeared as a mere shimmer, but through my spiritual vision, I could see its true size—a cataclysmic force capable of erasing the very planet if unleashed.

  I gritted my teeth, feeling the weight of despair settle over me. Heylel lay incapacitated, unable to assist. Was this truly the end for my people? My thoughts raced as Trinity unleashed the blast, its approach swift and inevitable. I shut my eyes, bracing for the impact, when suddenly, a voice echoed within me, glitching through the chaos.

  “Would you like further assistance?” it asked, and without hesitation, I responded. As I opened my eyes, I was astonished to see the divine blast halted mere inches from me, even Trinity frozen in disbelief.

  The voice spoke again, this time accompanied by a holographic screen that only I could perceive. It read: “Would you like to absorb and convert a portion of the Holy Spirit into an evil spirit? Yes or No.”

  Without a moment's thought, I selected “Yes.” Instantly, my eyes glowed a fierce blue, as if another force had taken control of my body. I felt a surge of power coursing through me, and I stretched out my hand, absorbing the essence of the Holy Spirit while simultaneously converting a portion of it into an evil spirit.

  Trinity was stunned, their confidence shattered as they struggled to comprehend what I had just done. Before they could react, I moved with blinding speed, seizing them by the face with the newfound power I had harnessed. In that moment, I unleashed the energy within me, determined to vanquish them once and for all.

  However, the fraction of the evil spirit blast I unleashed upon Trinity was not enough to vanquish her; it merely wounded her, sending her crashing to the ground, battered and tattered. The divine nature of her form had allowed her to endure, but she was clearly reeling from the impact.