Keep the Rosary?

I stared at him, genuinely surprised. I had sat down in this ruined room fully prepared to lose it. If he was the First Executioner of the fallen Holy Empire, he was naturally the rightful owner of this holy relic. In a sense, I was holding stolen goods.

"Why should I keep it?" I asked, keeping my guard up. "Isn’t it rightfully yours?"

"You are mistaken," the Executioner replied gently. "The true owner of the Rosary is none other than the Divine itself. We, as its believers, merely hold it temporarily to do the world’s work. We aren’t its absolute owners."

He gestured to the glowing diamond cross on the table. "You, however, successfully woke it from its slumber. You are its chosen, legitimate possessor in this era. Thus, I am only following the will of the Great Order and the Rosary itself."

So... I was chosen by the artifact and became its legal owner? I thought, feeling a massive wave of relief wash over me. The infinite mana battery was safe.

"So, is there something you want from me in return?" the Executioner asked, his pure white eyes watching me closely.

"..."

Something I want. What could it be? Was he genuinely asking to reward me, or was this a high-level test of my intentions?

"There is one thing," I said slowly.

Even if it was a test, my answer was clear. It was the only thing I had been consistently pursuing since I woke up in this death-trap of a world.

"I want to prevent the apocalypse," I stated firmly. "Please cooperate with me, or allow me to cooperate with you."

The Executioner’s serene face physically flinched.

"...Remarkable," the ancient gunslinger breathed, his eyes narrowing in sharp assessment. "To think there is another living soul in this era who knows of the impending apocalypse."

Well, duh! I played this game until the end credits, I retorted internally.

"How much do you actually know, boy?" he asked, all traces of playfulness gone.

There was no need to mention the artificial disasters or the political wars between the empires. Listing the absolute calamities ordained by the cosmic plot was enough to prove my worth.

"The most dangerous threat is the descent of the Demon Lords within three years," I said calmly. "Followed closely by the awakening of the Disaster-class Dungeons across the continent."

The Executioner leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. The aura in the room grew suffocatingly heavy.

"Lucien Ashborne. You are no ordinary cadet," he murmured. "If what you say is true, you must have been looking forward to meeting me."

"As you say. You’re one of the few people with the power to fight the endgame," I replied smoothly.

"I am intensely curious about the source of your information," the Executioner pushed, his gaze piercing.

I played a VR game in my bedroom, would be an incredibly foolish thing to say.

"I learned about the Demon Lords’ descent through intercepted communications from the Demon Cult," I lied effortlessly. "As for the Disaster-class Dungeons... I found an ancient log buried in the same dungeon where I retrieved the Rosary."

"I see."

He bought it completely. It was a flawless lie.

The Executioner sighed heavily, leaning back and rubbing his temples. "To completely stop the apocalypse, we need three specific keys. Three impossible conditions."

"And those are?"

"First... we need all three Supreme Holy Relics bestowed by the Divine."

"I see," I murmured.

Without breaking eye contact, I reached into my spatial inventory and pulled out a simple, silver-and-gold cup. I placed the Pilgrim’s Goblet on the tea table right next to the Rosary.

The moment the two relics were close to each other, a soft, resonant hum vibrated through the air. Their golden lights pulsed in perfect, undeniable unison. They were authentic.

The Executioner stopped breathing. He stared at the Goblet, his jaw literally dropping.

"I’ve already secured two of them," I said casually, though my heart was hammering in my chest.

"...By the Gods," the Executioner whispered, looking at me as if I were a walking myth. He shook his head, desperately trying to regain his composure. "S-Second... we need mortals who can actually wield Divine Force."

"Well, we have two right now. You and me," I pointed out. "Though I am still very immature when it comes to handling pure divine mana without blowing out my own circuits."

"Third," the Executioner continued, his voice grim. "We need overwhelming military force. We need four heroes who have surpassed the Platinum rank and stepped into the absolute realm of myths—Diamond Knights. Along with a vast army of Platinum Knights to support them."

Four Diamond Knights? That was enough raw power to topple the entire Aurelian Empire overnight. There was only one task in the game’s lore that required such an overwhelming, apocalyptic force—the grand finale.

"To conquer the Great Rift," I guessed aloud. "The one that will tear open in the ruins of the Holy Empire’s capital? The gate from which the Demon King descends."

"...You continuously terrify me, boy," the Executioner said, staring at me.

"I’m surprised too," I admitted, furrowing my brow. "I’ve never even heard of the Diamond Knight realm being achieved in the modern era."

"Only five have ever existed throughout recorded history, so it makes sense that most people believe the rank is a myth," the Executioner explained. "Perhaps a grand scholar of theology or ancient archaeology might have read of it once or twice."

"...Only five in all of history, and we need four right now?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

I actually knew exactly what he was talking about. Diamond Knights were the stuff of legends, and in the original game’s story, only Gilbert—the protagonist—ever reached that realm before the final battle. Gilbert doing the work of four men was likely just because of his insane protagonist plot armor.

"Be glad. At least one exists in this era," the Executioner muttered darkly.

Four Diamond Knights and an army of Platinum Knights. It was a logistical nightmare.

"That’s difficult," I said.

"It borders on the impossible," he agreed.

"Would adding this make it any easier?"

I reached into my duffel bag—pretending to pull it from my physical luggage instead of the System inventory—and revealed the jagged, heavy crown forged of unrefined gold and terrestrial stone.

The Primordial Earth Crown.

The Executioner physically shot to his feet, his chair scraping violently against the ruined floorboards.

"That is the Primordial Earth Crown!" he shouted, completely losing his ancient, stoic composure. "One of the Primordial Five! Where in the bleeding hell did you get that?!"

The Primordial Five were the greatest natural treasures in the game’s lore. If the holy relics were the ultimate weapons given by the Divine, the Primordial Five were the ultimate joker cards bestowed by Nature itself. Filled with the raw, chaotic essence of the world, they were completely comparable to Supreme Relics in terms of destructive output. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

"I found it in an underground ruin," I said calmly, resting the heavy crown on my lap. "It was the center of a castle used by a forgotten emperor of the Aethelgard Desert."

"...If we can find their rightful owners, the military burden will be drastically reduced," the Executioner muttered frantically, pacing the ruined room. "One user of a Primordial artifact could fulfill the role of two or three Platinum Knights in a siege! Do you... by any miracle... know the whereabouts of the other four?"

Fortunately, the original game’s wiki was permanently burned into my brain. As a hardcore completionist, I had farmed every single one of these items.

"I’m not entirely certain," I began, playing the part of a humble informant, "but I have a rough grasp of their coordinates."

I ticked them off on my fingers.

"The First Ember Mantle is buried in the boiling heart of the Great Caldera, guarded by the Magma Wyrm."

"The Leviathan’s Eye rests in the belly of an ancient sea beast at the absolute bottom of the Abyssal Trench."

"The World’s Breath is kept at the summit of the Howling Peaks, protected by the Apex Roc."

"And the Null Ring is lost somewhere in the Dead Canyons, surrounded by a horde of Void Crawlers."

When I finished reciting the exact boss locations of the world’s most legendary, undiscovered mythic items, absolute silence descended on the inn room.

The Executioner slowly stopped pacing. He slumped heavily back into his armchair. His youthful face was painted with a look of pure, unadulterated disbelief.

He stared at the teenager sitting in front of him, surrounded by Supreme Relics, casually dropping continent-shattering secrets like he was reading a grocery list.

"What..." the ancient First Gun Master whispered, his voice trembling slightly. "...are you?"