God-Tier Enhancement: My Upgrades Never Fail-Chapter 215: Episode _Rose Gold Holy Dragon (1)

1.

The scepter Squeaker was holding had been in Simin’s possession.

"Phew. It’s really tough feeding and clothing a kid."

The memories of his journey to the Empire, of rushing to get the +15 enhancement done in time, flashed through his mind. The attacks from all sorts of beasts, the time he had to enter one of the Four Forbidden Zones to do the enhancement. He hadn’t even slept properly, trying to meet his goal in just over a week. He had never slept more than four hours a day to begin with, but cutting that down even further was a mental strain, even for Simin, who was used to minimizing his sleep.

But he had endured, and seeing the result filled him with pride. There she was, standing so confidently before thousands of priests, holding the scepter her dad had made for her, without a hint of intimidation.

It was the thousands of priests, the Grand Priests, the elders, and the Pope who were in an uproar.

"Th-that is!"

"What is it? What’s going on?"

Of course, not everyone understood the situation and was confused. The commotion had started with the Pope. He, who was always solemn, who maintained his dignity and conveyed only the will of God, who stood proud and unbowed in the name of God even before the Emperor—for him to be so surprised as to leap from his seat, it was only natural for those who didn’t know what was happening to be curious.

This was, after all, the ceremony to prove she was the Saintess. And in such a place, she had taken out a scepter without a shred of shame, as if to say, "I am the Saintess." ’What is that scepter?’ Everyone’s attention shifted from Squeaker to the Pope. The answer would come from one of them. And judging by the atmosphere, it was more likely to come from the Pope.

As if in answer to their unspoken question, the Pope murmured, “A holy relic... How can this be...?”

A single phrase. The low murmur sent a shockwave of astonishment through the crowd. It was the Temple’s holy relic, lost for hundreds of years after the demon invasion—the symbol of the Pope himself. The very scepter wielded by the pontiff of that era, one of the Five Legends, had transcended time to appear here and now, at the selection of a Saintess. And it had appeared with her.

*

The scepter had come from one of the five chests left by the Five Legends. ’Who would have thought the scepter I’d been holding onto, thinking it might be useful someday, was the Grand Temple’s holy relic?’

’Then again, she was the healer for the party of the Five Legends. She’d have to be of that caliber.’

Having already obtained the Legendary Enchanter and Tamer classes, Simin had no intention of becoming a priest himself. He’d considered selling it to Yeseul later, but it had ultimately ended up in Squeaker’ hands. The Pope’s weapon! The Temple’s holy relic! He knew from the stats and options that appeared during enhancement that it was no ordinary item, but he’d never imagined this. A smile spread across his face. ’Betago really is smiling down on me. What a fickle bastard.’

The crowd’s gaze remained fixed on the brilliantly shining scepter in Squeaker’ hand. The Pope, his eyes wide with disbelief, had already descended to the central hall where Squeaker stood—an unprecedented event during a Saintess selection ceremony. As he drew near and held out a hand, Squeaker obediently offered him the scepter.

With an expression of profound reverence, the Pope received the scepter carefully with both hands and infused it with his holy power.

Vmmmmm.

The scepter, already radiant on its own, erupted in a pure white brilliance that filled the vast expanse of the Grand Temple.

“Ooh!”

Thousands of priests fell to their knees in prayer, some of them weeping with emotion. Only Simin and Kardian, standing beside him, clicked their tongues.

The situation had become untenable for the elders who had planned to reject the Saintess. Normally, they would have refused her regardless of what she presented. After all, without the unanimous consent of the eight elders, the selection of a Saintess was invalid. With six of them in the opposition faction, what could be done? Did it matter that thousands of priests and the Pope himself were watching? Not in the slightest.

Those who serve God are never at a loss for words. Any pretext could be twisted into a valid reason. By nitpicking every detail and seizing upon the smallest flaw, they could nullify the selection, which required the candidate to be flawless. It was absurd, unfair, and infuriating, but that was how it worked. According to the historical texts, a Saintess had to be perfect. That subjective and arbitrary word gave the elders all the power they needed.

The elders exchanged glances. ’What do we do? Do we challenge her now?’ But the atmosphere was too charged. The pro-Pope faction, though only two strong, would resist fiercely. So, they decided to wait. She hadn’t been officially chosen yet.

“Where did you acquire this?” the Pope asked, taking a step back from the elders. His eyes never left the scepter, but Squeaker answered with composure.

“When I opened my eyes, He gave it to me.”

Her eyes held not a trace of deceit, and her tone was calm. For the first time, the Pope’s gaze met Squeaker’ crimson eyes—eyes that held a magical power capable of captivating even him. Seeing the purity within them, the Pope nodded.

“As I thought.”

The Saintess had yet to demonstrate anything. But the Pope had already accepted her. This was faith. The holy relic of the order, sought with burning eyes for hundreds of years. An item that had vanished without a trace despite endless speculation that it was lost or taken by demons, had suddenly appeared with the arrival of a Saintess. Could it be a coincidence? A coincidence after hundreds of years? It was far easier and faster to believe it was a blessing from God, especially for priests.

“I, Pope Pradict, acknowledge the Saintess.”

And for them, acknowledgment was certainty. The barrier erected by that certainty was firm and unyielding, rejecting all opposition. The crowd of priests erupted in admiration at the Pope’s decisive declaration. Even without the scepter, they had hoped Squeaker would become the Saintess. Following the Pope’s acknowledgment, Saint and the other pro-Pope elder rose from their seats.

“I acknowledge her.”

“I acknowledge her.”

Instantly, thousands of eyes turned to the remaining elders. The pressure was immense. The holy atmosphere was so thick that to deny her now felt like an act of heresy that would be met with a volley of stones. But these elders had weathered countless crises. If they were the type to be swayed by mere atmosphere and ruin their grand plans, they would have sided with the Pope from the beginning for greater benefits.

“We must first verify if the scepter is truly the Temple’s holy relic, and possessing it alone does not prove she is the Saintess,” one of them said, taking the lead. “Historical texts also mention that the Temple’s holy relic fell into the hands of the demons, a fact we cannot overlook.”

The atmosphere instantly froze, but he pressed on. “This is what the demons do best. They present a situation that is impossible not to believe and exploit the opening. Of course, that may not be the case here. However, the current atmosphere is so overwrought that even Your Holiness may find it difficult to make a sound judgment. I am merely suggesting we take more time to be cautious.”

The Pope fell silent.

He wasn’t opposing, merely urging caution. The plausible words cooled the fervent mood, and the Pope accepted his point.

“You speak the truth. However, she has already demonstrated the use of Sacrifice in the Rich Territory, a spell only the Pope and the Saintess can use. How do you explain that?”

But he wasn’t yielding easily. His gaze was intense, his will unbending. His accusatory question was nothing short of an attack—an arrow aimed at the elders who had dared to suggest that the holy Saintess, bearer of the Temple’s relic, might be a pawn of the demons. That was the kind of man the Pope was. Elder or not, there was no mercy for those who betrayed God. He wasn’t angered by their schemes to usurp him, but he would not stand by and watch them ruin a matter of common interest to the Temple for their own selfish ambitions.

“There were no witnesses at the time, were there? Only the Lord of Rich and his fellow adventurers. If they simply found a holy relic by chance and are putting forth anyone as a Saintess, what would become of the Temple’s dignity? Of course, I’m sure that’s not the case, but as we are entrusting the fate of the continent to her, we must exercise the utmost caution.”

The Pope was left speechless.

The elder’s words inadvertently hit upon the truth of the Saintess selection, making Simin flinch. He glared at the bastard who was essentially poisoning the well.

“I’m going to have to deal with that son of a bitch,” he muttered. The man had a talent for spinning tales and knew how to pinpoint a weakness. If things went as he suggested, the Temple’s dignity would indeed be shattered, which was why the Pope fell silent for a moment. It was a sharp, piercing argument.

If his opponent hadn’t been Han Simin, and if the one put forth as the Saintess hadn’t been a Gold Dragon, the situation might have turned in their favor. Sacrifice was not a spell that even the Pope or a Saintess could cast at will. It required at least a month of waiting.

But Squeaker was different.

Her gaze shifted to Simin, who met her captivating crimson eyes with a bitter smile and a nod. ’I’ll make sure those bastards see hell.’ Damn elders. They were forcing him to spend money.

Having received Simin’s permission, Squeaker took back the scepter from the Pope’s carefully held hands and raised it to the sky. The incantation followed.

“Sacrifice.”

Flash!

Before anyone could react, the world was bathed in light.

*

“Whew. That’s why it might be difficult for the Saintess to be acknowledged,” Saint had said.

“Why is that?” Simin had asked.

“It’s embarrassing to say, but there are factions among the elders. The Pope’s faction, and the opposition.”

“Ah.”

At Saint’s sigh-filled words, Simin had worn a serious expression for a moment before breaking into a smile. “Don’t worry. At the very least, you’re on our Hyegi’s side, aren’t you, Saint?”

“I am, of course, on Hyegi’s side... I mean, I am always on the Saintess’s side.”

“Then that’s all that matters. Thank you for telling me.” 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

“Not at all. I feel rather sorry for not mentioning it earlier.”

“Don’t be silly. For your sake, if nothing else, our Hyegi will definitely become the Saintess.”

“...Yes. I hope so. May a miracle happen.”

“And the traitors who oppose the will of God will soon disappear.”

“...Pardon?”

“Traitors. Traitors who try to change God’s choice for the Pope and Saintess as they please.”

Simin’s dark smile still lingered in his memory. Saint wondered why that recent conversation suddenly came to mind amidst the pure white radiance, but the thought was fleeting. The light soon faded, and in the comforting warmth of Sacrifice, every priest—even the Pope—was on their knees, weeping at the grace of God. Saint was no exception.

In that moment, he lifted his head slightly to look at Squeaker. Her expression, still filled with holy power, was stern. A voice, entirely different from before, emerged from her solemn lips.

“Do not doubt.”

The world stood still. Everyone held their breath, not daring to make the slightest sound. No, it wasn’t by choice. Anyone would have done the same. A possession! God had descended here.

“She is the Saintess.”

God himself had spoken, and in that moment, everyone welcomed the new Saintess into their hearts.

“And servants of the demons hide within the Temple.”

At these words, everyone looked up. Squeaker’ unfocused gaze was directed upward. Their eyes followed hers. There stood the six elders who had opposed the Saintess’s selection.

The elders were speechless.

The possession ended there. God said no more, and as focus returned to her eyes, Squeaker collapsed. But the silence refused to break. Among the thousands of people, only one wore a smile: Han Simin.

*