Chương 133

The tension in the cave had completely vanished, replaced entirely by Rudra's bitter grumbling. Before anyone was allowed to take a single step deeper into the cavern, Rudra stubbornly dragged his Protean Crafting Cauldron back to the center of the campsite. Still muttering curses about bloodsucking thieves, he aggressively chopped up another batch of Armored Razor-Bear meat and tossed it into the boiling water.

"I have to know what it tastes like," Rudra insisted, staring intensely at the pot. However, the result was a letdown. Because Marie Rose had absorbed or scattered the dense demonic energy that had been pooling in the cave, the environment had normalized. The new batch of stew was certainly a high-tier, delicious meal that granted them excellent buffs, but it lacked the shimmering violet hue and the intoxicating, mutated aroma of the stolen dish. Rudra ate his bowl with a deep, dramatic sigh of disappointment.

With their stomachs full and their buffs active, the squad finally packed up the campsite. They lit a few torches and ventured deep into the pitch-black depths of the cavern to investigate the source of the ancient seal. As they descended, the lingering traces of demonic energy were completely replaced by a heavy, suffocating warmth. The dark rock walls gave way to a massive underground chamber bathed in a brilliant, blinding golden light.

At the center of the chamber sat a massive coffin carved entirely from Sacred Wood. The holy power radiating from the coffin was absolute. It was so intense that the moment they stepped into the chamber, a loud hissing sound echoed through the air.

"Ugh!" Mumud let out a sharp groan, stumbling backward. Smoke began to rise from his artificial flesh. The ambient divine aura was so incredibly dense that Mumud's baseline masking spell was instantly overwhelmed. The holy power recognized the necrotic, undead nature of his soul hidden beneath the flesh and immediately began burning him.

"Mumud!" Piaro stepped forward to help, but he couldn't block ambient energy. Grid watched in a panic, worried that his free magical labor was about to burn to ash.

"Hey! Fall back! You're taking damage!" But Mumud didn't retreat. Despite the searing pain and the smoke rising from his skin, the silver-haired genius simply pulled out his leather notebook. His eyes darted rapidly as he calculated the exact wavelength of the coffin's divine aura. His fingers danced in the air, weaving threads of blue mana. In real-time, while actively taking holy damage, Mumud forcefully dismantled and reconstructed his own masking spell.

He matched the frequency of the barrier to perfectly deflect the coffin's specific holy signature. The hissing stopped. The smoke faded. Mumud let out a calm breath and straightened his robes as if nothing had happened.

"Impossible." A booming, majestic voice suddenly echoed through the chamber, vibrating against the stone walls. Grid yelped and immediately dove behind Piaro's broad back, peeking out nervously from over the farmer's shoulder.

"To alter a complex mana formula on the fly while suffering the purification of Goddess Rebecca..." The voice echoed directly from the Sacred Wood Coffin.

"Who are you people? My ego was sealed in this coffin made of sacred wood. It's designed to wake up when an intruder enters. This is the second time I woke up." Mumud bowed politely.

"We mean no disrespect. We are merely travelers."

"Travelers?!" The majestic voice roared, the holy light flaring violently.

"The absolute evil that I sacrificed my life to seal in this place is gone. The first time I woke up, Marie Rose was still sleeping in me. Now she isn't." Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Grid trembled, gripping Dainsleif tightly. The ego sealed inside this coffin was clearly the legendary Second Pope of the Rebecca Church—Chreshler. Grid had absolutely no desire to fight the ghost of the strongest Pope in history.

Before Grid could try to formulate a lie, Rudra calmly stepped forward.

"We didn't break anything," Rudra said, leaning on his bone staff.

"She just woke up because she smelled my stew and wanted a bowl." Silence hung in the chamber.

"What?" Pope Chreshler's voice dropped, laced with absolute disbelief.

"I was cooking a mutated Razor-Bear stew," Rudra explained, his tone completely flat.

"The aroma bypassed your wards. She woke up, ate my food, scraped my main pot clean, and teleported away. It was incredibly rude." The absolute dignity and holy presence of the 2nd Pope shattered instantly.

"She left?!" Chreshler screamed, his voice suddenly losing all its majestic echo and pitching up into a frantic, pathetic wail.

"No! My beautiful Marie Rose! Do you have any idea why I agreed to be sealed in this stupid wooden box?!" Grid blinked, stepping out from behind Piaro.

"... To protect the world from evil?"

"To feel her inside me!" Chreshler screamed hysterically.

"That jerk Pagma... He cheated me." Wait. Pagma?! Grid's eyes widened to the size of saucers. As in, the legendary blacksmith Pagma? My class owner?!'

"He told me that my senses would remain, so I could feel Marie Rose in me forever even when I'm asleep," Chreshler sobbed loudly from inside the wood.

"It was fucking bullshit! I lose all my senses when I fall asleep. Sigh. I was looking forward to waking up and feeling her again..." Grid was completely dumbfounded. Not only was the strongest Pope in the history of the Rebecca Church a massive, perverted simp, but it turned out Pagma—the legendary hero whose powers Grid had inherited—had actively scammed this guy into becoming horny furniture! Grid desperately wanted to interrogate the ghost about his predecessor, but he bit his tongue.

The Pope was currently having a meltdown, and Grid knew better than to interrupt a raging boss entity. He would have to wait for the right opening.

"Do you take me for a fool?!" Chreshler continued to sob and rage, entirely unaware of Grid's internal crisis.

"Vampires despise human food! My beautiful Marie Rose would never awaken and abandon my eternal embrace for a mere bowl of soup!" Rudra's eyes narrowed. His blank expression vanished, replaced by a dangerous, competitive glint. Stealing his food was one thing, but insulting his cooking was crossing a line.

"Are you calling my cooking 'mere soup'?" Rudra asked coldly. Without another word, Rudra slammed his Protean Crafting Cauldron onto the stone floor right next to the Sacred Wood Coffin. He threw in the remaining ingredients, sparked a fire, and started aggressively stirring.

"Hey! What are you doing now?!" Grid whispered frantically.

"Don't provoke the ghost!"

"I am proving a point," Rudra snapped. Ten minutes later, the cavern was filled with the rich, savory scent of the high-tier stew. It still wasn't the mutated version, which made Rudra click his tongue in annoyance, but it was a masterpiece by any mortal standard. Rudra scooped a portion into a bowl. He walked over to the Sacred Wood Coffin, popped the lid open just a fraction of an inch, and shoved the bowl inside.

"Eat it," Rudra commanded.

"You insolent—" Chreshler started to yell. Because of Rudra's unique titles and cooking mastery, his food transcended normal physical limits. The system allowed any sentient being—even a bodiless ego sealed inside a wooden coffin—to consume the essence and taste of his dishes. The chamber went dead silent. A faint, spectral slurping sound came from inside the coffin. Then, a soft, trembling gasp echoed through the room.

"This... this flavor..." Chreshler's booming voice completely cracked.

"The richness of the broth... the tenderness of the meat..."

"See?" Rudra crossed his arms, feeling entirely vindicated.

"It has been hundreds of years," Chreshler sniffed. The golden holy light radiating from the coffin actually began to flicker and soften, mirroring the old Pope's overwhelming emotional state.

"I have sat in this dark, cold box for centuries, sustained only by my lust and my faith. I had forgotten the warmth of a good meal. It isn't the soft embrace of my beloved Marie Rose, but... it warms my empty, lonely soul..." Grid shook his head, utterly bewildered. He watched as the legendary ghost of the Rebecca Church literally cried over a bowl of bear meat to cope with his heartbreak.

"This is a miracle of the Goddess," Chreshler wept softly.

"To grant this old, heartbroken soul such comfort... Human who crafts miracles, you have moved me. I am in your debt. Ask of me a favor, and if it is within my power, I shall grant it." Grid's eyes instantly lit up with intense greed.

'This is it!' he thought, stepping forward eagerly.

'My chance to ask about Pagma!'