First, the defining characteristics of Malveric, the Vatican field boss in the game, were these:

Overwhelming defense.

And regeneration.

A holy-attribute knight who, unlike Keith—a walking imbalance when fighting mamool—rarely suffered from a disadvantageous matchup.

Because Malveric had once served as the squire of the Holy Knight Keith, he had learned Keith's swordsmanship and possessed deep faith.

In other words, high Swordsmanship and excellent buff and resistance abilities. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

He possessed every quality expected of a Holy Knight.

Terrifying vitality, supported by powerful self-healing.

Attacks barely affected him, and even when they did, he healed himself. No matter how much damage he took, he simply refused to go down.

He was the quintessential example of how stubborn a Holy Knight could become when turned into an enemy.

And on top of that, there was the Pope constantly pouring support magic onto him.

Watching critical hits disappear as his wounds closed instantly had been enough to make players question their life choices.

On the other hand, those were also Keith's defining traits.

A downgraded Keith.

Shorter, smaller, weaker skills, inferior appearance.

A lesser version of Keith in every respect.

And that was important.

Because being a lesser version still meant being a version.

Malveric can replace Keith, at least temporarily.

Ian intended to install a downgraded Keith inside the dungeon.

"How's prison life?"

[It is peaceful beyond measure.]

Malveric lowered his head.

His words claimed peace, but his expression radiated despair.

Ian felt vaguely uncomfortable.

"What is it? Do the guards take turns torturing you or something?"

[Of course not! They do nothing. They do not even torture me... I... I do not know how to repay my sins.]

Malveric pressed both hands to the floor and repeatedly slammed his forehead into them.

Watching the kneeling fanatic begin actively injuring himself, Ian was speechless.

He glanced toward Keith.

You're not going to stop him?

Keith did not move.

Malveric's sobbing voice echoed from the mirror.

[Ian, please torment me.]

No...

Ian had hoped Malveric's mental state would be soft enough to manipulate.

He had not hoped for this.

Hadn't they occasionally allowed him outside whenever mamool appeared?

At that moment, Keith spoke.

"Ian has already forgiven you. Rather than hanging a rope around the neck of a sinner, He allowed you time to recognize your sins and seek redemption. Yet now you wish for Ian to repay even your sins on your behalf."

[Ahhh! Sir Keith! No, that's not...!]

Malveric slammed his forehead into the ground like a hammer.

"No, stop smashing your head."

He was losing HP before the battle had even started.

Malveric ignored him completely.

Like a man making confession, he murmured:

[I turned my eyes away from the light. Because one ensnared by a demon wore the skin of an angel, I believed what I saw. I failed to see the evil within. I judged God's will according to my own arrogance. I turned my back on the apostate and opposed the one truly sent by God.]

The text is getting long.

Ian interrupted before it could become longer.

"Yeah. You're a bastard."

[That's correct. I'm a bas... pardon?]

Malveric stopped hammering his head into the floor.

"So. Are you going to waste your time here hurting yourself?"

Ian leaned forward.

"Or are you going to redeem yourself?"

[You... would give me a chance to atone?]

"Yeah."

How do you persuade a devout Holy Knight?

Ian already knew the answer.

"A disaster has arrived. The Demon King is targeting us. Demons and mamool under his command are on their way to slaughter everyone."

[How could such a thing...!]

"If this continues, we're all going to die."

Ian even put a finger beneath his nose and spoke in a dramatic voice.

Keith stared at him.

Ian pretended not to notice.

"Gasp!"

"The Demon King?!"

He ignored the background noise from everyone else.

[W-What should I do? What can a fool like me possibly accomplish? ...I'm afraid to take up a sword. I'm afraid I'll once again point my blade at innocent people. I'm afraid my foolishness will lead to another irreversible choice...]

Ah. So that's it.

Ian finally understood why Malveric looked like someone who had spent years without seeing sunlight.

Apparently, he literally hadn't seen sunlight.

He kept saying, I can't use a sword. I can't fight.

And the people of the Vatican apparently weren't deranged enough to drag him onto a battlefield against his will.

So they had simply locked him away and left him there to slowly lose his mind.

Ding!

["Repentant Sinner" Malveric has been afflicted with the status effect: Depression.]

Ding!

["Repentant Sinner" Malveric has been afflicted with the status effect: Severe Depression.]

Ding!

["Repentant Sinner" Malveric has been afflicted with the status effect: Self Distrust.]

Debuffs appeared one after another like machine-gun fire.

Now?

Ian couldn't understand why status effects that should have appeared ages ago were suddenly activating after only a few lines of conversation.

If one of his useful combat assets was in this condition, that was a problem.

Of course, Ian possessed high-level Purification.

But Malveric, being a Holy Knight, also possessed high Resistance.

Meaning that if the idiot didn't want it, he could even reject beneficial effects.

Ian needed to reinforce Malveric's mental state first.

"No."

He spoke firmly.

"This time, you're going to make the right choice."

[H-How can you trust me so much? I don't even trust myself...]

"Because our dungeon is finished without you."

[...?!]

"Do you want to come to the dungeon and save people?"

Ian pointed at him.

"Or do you want to stay there and watch everyone die?"

[Go to the dungeon... and save people...]

Malveric answered as if entranced.

Ian nodded.

"Good choice."

Then he immediately continued.

"Want to come right now?"

[I... am a sinner.]

Malveric sounded as though Ian had forgotten.

"Right."

Ian grinned.

"And I'm also the one who ordered you imprisoned."

[...!]

"Call a guard. Tell them to bring whoever's in charge."

Ian pointed at the mirror.

"From this moment on, you belong to the dungeon."

[Ahhh, Ian!]

Malveric suddenly burst into tears.

[Why would you do so much for a sinner like me? For someone as worthless as I am? The place where you belong is not beside someone like me.]

Have I ever been beside him?

This was news to Ian.

Keith opened his mouth.

"Ian stands beside the poorest, the loneliest, those who suffer, sinners, widows, wanderers, and children. Ian has always been with you. You simply failed to realize it."

No.

Ian stared at Keith.

But Malveric's body trembled violently.

[I will never forget. I will never doubt again. You have illuminated the path before me. I shall walk that path. I shall not stray where there is no road. I shall simply walk straight.]

Ding!

Ding!

Ding!

Notifications appeared announcing that every debuff had vanished.

...

Anyway.

All the allies he needed had been gathered.

Good.

"Ian! Why didn't you tell us the Demon King was invading?!"

"Because he isn't."

He also calmed the panicking Sema.

Ding!

Ding!

Ding!

While doing absolutely nothing, [N O V E L I G H T] his reputation continued to snowball.

He only briefly confirmed that both the Hero and Savior reputations had now become permanently fixed at the top of the list.

At this point, it hardly mattered.

Things were already beyond saving either way.

The bronze mirrors spread across the table simultaneously displayed the members of each alliance.

Whenever water rippled across a mirror, another scene appeared.

Elves fully prepared for battle.

Fairies taking flight in formation behind the Fairy Queen.

Mermaids swimming through the deep sea carrying only essential supplies.

The various allied forces shimmered together across the mirrors.

Even Ian's stunned aides, still struggling to comprehend his absurd method of persuasion, watched the allies gathering one after another.

It was a magnificent sight.

A beautiful sight.

These people had not been gathered through violence.

They had come through goodwill.

Goodwill given freely.

Returning as goodwill once more.

The realization filled their hearts.

...Wasn't Louise's village recruited through violence?

There were reasonable people present.

People like Contacca.

But he possessed both manners and common sense.

So he kept his mouth shut.

Ruining the mood was uncool.

And among everyone present, one dwarf was more moved than anyone else.

"Ohhh... Ooooooh..."

Tears streamed down his face.

Like Malveric, he began openly crying before slamming both hands onto the table and springing to his feet.

Though his standing height was hardly different from his sitting height.

"Ian! Send me to the sea dwarves! I shall persuade them! They're a bunch of stubborn fools who care only about their own interests, but they're still dwarves! Tough sailors, every one of them! If we can bring them into the alliance, they'll be a tremendous help!"

This event wasn't in the game.

Weren't the sea dwarves and forest dwarves supposed to have a terrible relationship?

But Ian had no intention of ignoring a new event.

"Go ahead."

He waved a hand.

"But if it doesn't work, come back immediately."

Nameita stroked his beard.

"Hoho. Worry not. I may be old, but I've participated in wars before. My ability to respond to crises is exceptional."

"No."

Ian shook his head.

"That's not what I meant."

He pointed at the dwarf.

"I have work for you. If you're late, deal with the consequences yourself."

"..."

Nameita fell silent.