Extra's POV: My Obsessive Villainous Fiancee Is The Game's Final Boss-Chapter 200: The Church And The State

The words Atticus was saying were clear as day to both of them. Your request is beneath me.

Mikael's patience snapped.

"If you don't open that portal," he growled, stepping forward until they were nearly face to face, "I will see to it that the Church is stripped of every privilege it enjoys in my kingdom. No more land. No more exemptions. No more protection from royal oversight."

Atticus's expression darkened. "Is that a threat, Your Majesty?"

"No." Mikael said, voice cold. "It's a promise."

For a long moment, the two men stared at each other, the atmosphere of barely restrained disdain not dissipating one bit.

Then, Atticus stood.

He didn't respond. He simply turned, extended his hand, and resonated the air in front of him.

With a shudder, space bent and shimmered. A tear in reality formed, a swirling, pale gold portal humming with Atticus' space resonance.

"Keep it open." Mikael spat before stepping through without hesitation.

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On the other side of the portal was a throne room unlike any in the kingdom. The second throne room in all of Elnoria. And that was saying something.

The room stretched high into vaulted ceilings carved with images of the Shivering Tree's roots descending into the world. Along the curved walls stood robed clerics, silent as statues.

At the center, sitting on what could only be called a throne atop a raised dais gilded with gold and polished opal, sat the Pope.

Old, white-bearded, and robed in white and gold, he sat reclined like a monarch rather than a holy servant. A gold circlet rested upon his brow, and his fingers drummed slowly against the gilded armrest of his seat.

"Mikael." The Pope said, without standing. "You've arrived. Punctual, for once. I was expecting you."

Mikael strode forward, his hands clenched. "Don't patronize me. What the hell happened in Rainhold?"

The Pope exhaled, lifting one hand in a loose gesture. "An unfortunate tragedy."

"Unfortunate?" Mikael's voice echoed. "The city was wiped off the map. Thousands dead. A major religious center turned to ash. You could have stopped it!"

"I could have stopped it?" The Pope's eyes narrowed. "Are you accusing me of something, Your Majesty?"

"I'm accusing you of inaction. You knew what was coming. You let it happen."

The Pope rose slowly, folding his hands together. "We lost one of our few remaining Shivering Trees, Mikael. We lost a member of the Synod. Do you think I wanted this?"

Mikael sneered. "I think you saw an opportunity. One that would push your agenda forward. Let a city fall so you can point to it and say, 'See? The world is chaos without divine rule.'"

The Pope said nothing for a long moment.

Then, he spoke. Calmly.

"Then let me speak plainly, Mikael. Pass the Decree. Let the next monarch be Chosen by the Tree. Be bound to a priest or priestess, as sacred law should dictate."

Mikael stared at him. "And if I don't?"

The Pope's eyes glinted. "Then the Kingdom of Elnoria may find itself reduced to ruin. Just like Rainhold."

Silence.

Mikael's breath came in short, furious bursts. "You're a monster." He whispered. "Not a servant of the Creator. Just another tyrant hiding behind the power of the church."

The Pope did not reply.

Mikael turned and walked back toward the portal, his cape swirling behind him.

He stepped back into the palace hall, the air crackling as the portal closed behind him.

Father Atticus was still there.

The priest looked up and offered a small, passive smile. "Did you find the Voice of the Divine... helpful?"

Mikael didn't answer.

Atticus chuckled softly. "You always return from the Holy City so very… tense. It must be the altitude."

Mikael's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. He turned and stormed away.

He walked to his throne room, and right before he entered, he rang the bell.

The guards' eyes went wide, the courtiers streaming out to gather outside the door.

The King was about to make a great proclamation.

Mikael entered the throne room alone, the massive doors shutting behind him with a thunderous boom, leaving everyone else outside.

His heart thundered in his chest as he marched up the steps to the throne, turned, and faced the empty room.

No advisors. No scribes.

Just him. About to change everything.

He drew breath.

"By my right as King of Elnoria," he said, his voice ringing out, "I hereby issue a royal decree."

His hand lifted.

"From this day forward, the Church is no longer to hold authority within the royal courts. All land grants, protections, and tax exemptions are nullified."

His voice grew louder.

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"For the crime of withholding divine aid, for standing idle while cities burned, and for using tragedy to manipulate the crown, the Church is to be separated from the Monarchy."

When he was done, his voice echoed off the stones for a few more seconds.

He stood there for a long time.

And for the first time since Rainhold's fall, King Mikael did not feel powerless.

He felt war.

And it had just begun.