Please Stop The Pope

The war ended in our victory.

And the hero who had saved us fulfilled his final duty.

“Are you leaving?”

In the office of His Holiness at the Papacy, I stood before him and quietly asked.

Taking a sip of his tart tea, His Holiness smiled and nodded.

“I’ve done everything I needed to. Now it’s time to go see my family. You’ve worked hard too.”

His expression was brighter than ever.

Perhaps it was because the long-awaited day of his return was finally here.

He had often spoken longingly about his family on Earth while sharing drinks, expressing how much he missed them.

Knowing the depth of his yearning, I couldn’t bring myself to ask him to stay.@@novelbin@@

This was the end of his long solitude.

As a comrade and a friend who had walked countless hellish paths alongside him, all I could do was celebrate his happiness.

“Thank you for everything,” I said earnestly.

“I should be the one thanking you. Man, seeing you like this takes me back to when we first met. What did I say back then?”

“You told me to survive.”

“And you did, huh?”

“I follow your orders, no matter what.”

I knew well what people called me.

The Mad Dog of the Papacy.

The fierce hound that tore apart anything daring to oppose His Holiness.

In the streets, some called me a loyal dog.