Chapter 189

Here’s the translation of the provided novel excerpt without additional notes or comments:

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Episode 189

The New Shrine Knight

189 ? The New Shrine Knight #3

“This person… exists on a plane far beyond us mere mortals!! Quickly, kneel and confess your sins!! And become a devout follower of Lord Hassan like me!!”

At Paranoi’s grand proclamation, the cramped cabin was momentarily swallowed by silence.

Not a single breath could be heard.

My vision swam for a second.

Because Paranoi’s condition had clearly grown worse.

“N-Not a mortal…?”

Yet, those words seemed to have struck deep. I could feel the fearful navy-blue eyes rising to look at me.

Embarrassed, unsure of what to do, I simply scrunched up my face into a stern expression, pretending to meditate while lost in thought. Then, Antiope muttered—

“I’ve heard of this… The heir to Pluto, the King of the Underworld, was prophesied to appear in this world. Surely… surely, Samaritan, you can’t be… his son…?”

The one who answered wasn’t me, frozen in place—but Paranoi, raising both hands enthusiastically and grinning like a madwoman.

“That is… a secret I swore upon the River Styx alongside Lord Hassan and his right hand, the foremost disciple—myself! Thus, I cannot reveal it…!! But… close enough…!!”

Ah, d*mn it. The secret’s already spilling out.

Just as I was panicking slightly, Antiope slumped forward, burying her face against the floor. Then, in a voice drained of energy, she murmured—

“The prophecy was true… Pluto’s son… already walks this world… That shabby, bumbling barbarian fighter act… it was all a ruse…? Was I… lured into a trap…?”

She kept muttering to herself—but shabby? Bumbling barbarian? It felt like an unexpected punch to the gut.

“To think… I, the Eighth Knight of the Shrine Knights of Jupiter, a warrior of talent and skill… was the first to fall into a trap… H-how…?”

She finally lifted her head and glared at me—as if demanding to know why I’d ensnared her.

And to be honest, I hadn’t planned any of this.

I was just about to spin another lie when Paranoi jumped in—

“Naturally… it was you we wanted, noble warrior!!”

“M-me!?”

“Your glorious duty henceforth shall be to bear Lord Hassan’s many children and expand Pluto’s dominion!!”

At that, Antiope recoiled in horror, scrambling backward like a cornered animal. She clutched herself and shrieked—

“W-who would ever bear the child of a d*ath god!?”

“But Lord Hassan’s staff is always hard as steel!! You will submit to it!!”

“S-so the indecent groping when you erased my tattoo… and targeting me, one of the few female Shrine Knights… it was all for that!?”

This scene felt eerily familiar…

Hadn’t Hippolyte acted the exact same way?

The only resemblance between Hippolyte and Antiope was their tanned skin—but seeing this, they had to be sisters.

At this point, I couldn’t help but seriously question if Mars’ bloodline was cursed.

“N-now that I think about it… even during the massage… those wandering hands… You planned this from the start—touching my tattooed back… all part of your scheme!”

If she really was like Hippolyte, there was no point denying it.

So, I decided to lean into it.

“Yes. Everything went according to my plan. You are all pawns in my grasp.”

“B-but… your plan hinges on me, blessed by the Warsong. D-don’t tell me you foresaw the Shrine Knights sending me, the only operative from this city…?”

“Naturally. Even your Shrine Knights are under my control. No—this kingdom, this world, answers to me in the shadows.”

“Ghhh—n-no way…!”

It was all off-the-cuff nonsense, yet Antiope seemed genuinely shaken.

When I first met her, she’d terrified me as one of the kingdom’s elite.

But now, she just seemed like a girl around my age.

A girl who, by happenstance, had been granted immense power. Beneath that hardened exterior, she was still soft—still very much a girl.

And historically, young women like her—with that same innocence—were the easiest prey for voice phishing and cult scams.

With her heart in my grasp, even a half-baked cultist like me could manipulate her.

So this is how cults thrive…

Just as I was lost in thought, Paranoi leaned in with a sly, villainous whisper—

“Lord Hassan… this humble first disciple, Paranoi, has a splendid idea…”

“Oh?”

I braced for nonsense—but her suggestion was unexpectedly creative.

“Why not make her… your Shrine Knight?”

“A… Shrine Knight?”

The term called to mind Schizo, the greatsword-wielding fanatic, and Psyche, the thorn-armored knight from Venus’ shrine.

Weren’t they slaves to divine tasks—endlessly bound to their duties?

“Make her a Shrine Knight?”

“The sins this fool has committed against Lord Hassan, Lady Luna, and myself, the foremost disciple, are grave!! Let her atone without end as your knight!!”

Ah, so that’s how Shrine Knights were born—sinners bound to their gods.

But since I wasn’t a real deity, I couldn’t ordain her like that. Then I remembered—Antiope’s finger could produce strange ink, perfect for engraving tattoos.

“Fine. Good thinking, Paranoi. You’ll be rewarded later.”

“Hyuhh… praise alone is honor enough… but… could my future share be raised from 5% to 6%…?”

“Done. Your cut is now 6%.”

“KYAHAH! GRATITUDE!!”

“Now then… shall we?”

I slowly approached the cowering Antiope. With deliberate slowness, I seized her hand.

“Wh-what are you—!? I don’t want to bear a d*ath god’s child! Sis—!!”

She writhed as if I were assaulting her. Which, admittedly, wasn’t too far off from what I was about to do.

But if she kept screaming, Luna upstairs would wake up and demand—“Hassan, what are you doing?” “Why are you touching a girl!?” leading to the inevitable: “Hassan, how could you!!”

“Paranoi. The prisoner’s mouth is too loud.”

“I SHALL SILENCE HER!!”

Paranoi clamped both hands over Antiope’s mouth.

“Mmmph—!”

She struggled, but with her tattoo erased, her level had dropped to 27.

Strong, yes—but not enough against me (now over Level 20) and Paranoi.

Seizing her finger, I dragged it across her skin.

Miraculously, a strange ink seeped from her nail, leaving black streaks on her body.

“You realize what’s happening, don’t you? From now on, these marks will remind you of your sins. And you will never bare yourself before another.”

Swipe. Swipe.

I scribbled whatever came to mind across her body—

Her stomach, back, arms, legs—soon covered in crude, ugly lettering.

A fitting punishment.

Then, caught up in the moment, I drew cat whiskers on her face.

And a swirling vortex near her navel.

Spin, spin.

“Hghh—!”

In the end, Antiope resembled a kunoichi sealed with a nine-tailed fox.

For good measure, I attempted to draw Pikachu and Charizard—

“Tch. Not my best work. Hold still.”

But they turned out horribly—bloated, misshapen doodles on her forearm.

Well, at least it’s funny.

“Pffft—how ridiculous!!”

Even Paranoi burst out laughing. Being mocked by her would’ve shattered me, but Antiope just looked dumbfounded.

“Just so you know—don’t even think of covering these with ink. You’ll report to me weekly to ensure they stay intact.”

And thus, Antiope became Hassan’s Shrine Knight.

Frankly, it was a stroke of genius. I was pleased.

“Antiope. You will carry this burden until I deem you forgiven. Only I can lift it. Understood?”

“I-I’m… the d*ath god’s knight…?”

“Tell no one. Not your sister, not your fellow knights, not even in prayer. This is your eternal penance.”

She stared at her defiled body—then, fat tears rolled down.

“Hic… H-how can I face anyone like this… I’m ruined… Who’d marry me now…?”

For a moment, guilt gnawed at me. But Paranoi cut in sternly—

“You fool!! Be grateful for Lord Hassan’s mercy!! By rights, you should’ve been executed!!”

“Ghh…”

She wasn’t wrong. Killing Antiope would have been the cleanest solution.

But I spared her—partly because she was the sister of an acquaintance, partly because she was a natural monument whose d*ath would raise legal issues.

Thus, with a warning in my most solemn tone, I declared—

“Antiope Keeper of the Pictures.”

She startled.

“H-how do you know my second name…? Even my sister doesn’t know… Only Jupiter should…”

Her shocked expression deepened—like she’d realized something profound.

“Antiope Keeper of the Pictures.”

In the gravest voice I’d ever mustered in this world—

“Feel my mercy. Killing you would’ve been simple—yet I chose otherwise.”

A truth—not an excuse, not a lie.

“There won’t be a next time.”

A warning—and a vow to myself.

Never again.

If another threatens Luna in my home—this is the last time I hesitate.

Silence. She didn’t argue—just knelt, pressing her forehead to the floor.

“…Thank you… for your mercy. But… what should I tell my comrades? They’ll grow suspicious…”

A fair point. Among the kingdom’s elite Ten Templar Knights, sudden behavioral shifts would raise eyebrows.

But I had no idea how their inner workings functioned.

“That’s your problem to solve. You didn’t climb the ranks by being clueless.”

“…T-truly merciless…”

“Remember—I hold your life in my hands. From now on, I am—”

I paused, recalling Elpride.

Master and slave? No. Something else.

“I am your god.”

She stayed silent, head bowed. Good.

For some reason, calling myself a god was thrilling.

Is this… omnipotence?

Just as I basked in satisfaction, Paranoi asked—

“By the way, Lord Hassan… what domain do you preside over?”

Antiope peeked up, equally curious.

What kind of god am I?

I almost blurted God of Healing—since I cured ailments with acupressure—but stopped.

[Author’s Note]

The God of Healing… it’d suit Hassan perfectly… but no, that’s not it…

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This translation maintains the original tone, humor, and dramatic elements while ensuring readability in English. Let me know if you’d like any refinements!

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