“When I found that hidden piece, I thought I’d struck gold...”

Three months ago:

When the message [Hidden Piece: "Ring of the Goddess’s Mercy" has perfectly bonded with you!] appeared before my eyes, I felt like I’d just won the lottery.

I was certain it would grant me some extraordinary power or rare item—something incredible. But dying because of it? That hadn’t even crossed my mind.

Yet, not only did the ring trigger a heart attack, it somehow transported me into the game world. As if that wasn’t enough, I woke up in the body of the story's ultimate antagonist.

[Your time has been rewound by 1,000 years.]

[Your soul now inhabits the body of the Fallen Pope, Nikellus von Lucidmiller.]

[You inherit the skills of the Fallen Pope, Nikellus von Lucidmiller.]

[You inherit the karmic burden of the Fallen Pope, Nikellus von Lucidmiller.]

The moment I slipped the ring on, those messages flooded my vision, and everything went black. When I came to, I wasn’t in my room anymore—I’d been sent 1,000 years into the past, to the setting of Call of the World Before Its End.

And I was in a coffin.

Specifically, I was possessing the body of the Fallen Pope, the final boss who’d been peacefully lying in his tomb.

Naturally, my first reaction was to lose it.

"Can’t you hear me?! I’m trapped in a game! Not just stuck in a dungeon—I'm literally inside the game world! LOG OUT! Why can’t I log out?!"

And when I accidentally caught sight of my reflection in a mirror? Let’s just say I had a full-body existential crisis.

The face staring back at me was... divine. Golden hair, silver eyes. Handsome wasn’t even the word; it was so striking it bordered on sacred. It didn’t feel real.

At first, I thought it might be a dream. Maybe some psycho hacker had tampered with the system and trapped me in the game. But after three months of denial, I had no choice but to accept reality.

I was dead.

The moment the heart attack hit, I’d briefly logged out and returned to the real world, just long enough to clutch my chest, gasping for air in my gaming capsule. Then my consciousness faded.

So yes, I died. Like so many other gaming addicts, I’d gone into cardiac arrest while playing.

The only difference was that, instead of vanishing entirely, my soul and memories were somehow turned into data and fused with the game. That’s the only explanation for why I’m here, living as Nikellus.

To sum it up: I’ve been "called" into The World Before Its End. The game was originally called Call of the Ruined World, but I’d been flung 1,000 years into its past.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

I still don’t understand how this place, a mere game, could feel so real. Every kingdom, every society, every human being moved with unnerving detail and authenticity. But there was no time to dwell on it.

“Your Holiness.”

The sharp voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I realized I was sitting in on a Church council meeting, attending in my role as the Pope. I’d been so lost in thought about the past that I’d nearly nodded off.

As I opened my eyes fully, I met the cold gaze of a woman standing before me.

Luciana.

She had piercing blue eyes, raven-black hair cascading down her back, and pale skin so flawless it seemed to radiate cold. She looked like a living snow sculpture. An A-ranked Holy Knight and the youngest High Priest in history, Luciana was a prodigy admired throughout the Church. And—judging by the memories left behind by the original Nikellus—she had been his longtime companion.

“Don’t you think this is a bit much?” she said, her voice tinged with exasperation.

“Hmm? What is?” I replied, feigning ignorance.

Her brows knitted together. Despite leading the meeting smoothly moments earlier, she now seemed frustrated, though I couldn’t quite figure out why.

“I’ve been patient out of respect for what you went through—dying from a fever and all. We understood the aftereffects must have been significant, especially if they erased your memories. But now? Three months have passed, and yet you still refuse to participate actively in these meetings. It’s... irresponsible.”

She was sharp-tongued, but not wrong. In truth, I had been distracted. Today, though, I wasn’t simply spacing out. I’d been planning my next move.

I pressed a hand to my forehead, feigning weakness, and gave a rehearsed excuse: “The aftereffects haven’t completely faded yet. Please bear with me a little longer.”

Unfortunately, Luciana wasn’t buying it.

“No, Your Holiness. Whatever aftereffects you claim to have should have long disappeared. The issue here isn’t your health. It’s your lack of accountability.”

Her words struck like a blade, and the room fell silent. A few attendants gasped audibly.

Luciana had always been blunt with Nikellus—probably because of their history. But judging by the anxious glances from the scribes and aides, the original Nikellus must not have tolerated criticism well.

Internally, I debated my response. Should I let this slide? She’s been one of the few reliable figures since I arrived here, even if her tone is harsh.

Ultimately, I decided not to escalate. After all, the original Nikellus had left me with plenty of problems, and this meeting was proof of that.

One of his most infamous exploits? The "Count Filma Manor Incident." Apparently, before I took over his body, Nikellus had gone on a rampage and half-destroyed the estate of Count Filma simply because the Count had “offended” him. The damages included injuries to the Count's staff and the destruction of priceless artworks.

The Church was now scrambling to pay an astronomical compensation fee, which was why this emergency council meeting had been called.

Luciana was right to be upset, but I wasn’t about to let my image take any more hits. Clearing my throat, I interrupted her rant.

“Calm down. I wasn’t just sitting here doing nothing. In fact, I’ve come up with a brilliant solution for the compensation issue.”

Her sharp eyes narrowed. “Oh? And what might that be?”

“The royal family. Contact them and tell them we intend to purchase the western forest of the Blonka region.”

At my words, the room erupted in disbelief.

“That cursed land?” one of the High Priests scoffed. “Your Holiness, that forest is infested with monsters. It’s a desolate, worthless place. If anything, the royal family should pay us to take it off their hands.”

The priest in question was Argelio von Freebern, a sly man who wore a perpetual smirk. If not for my player privileges, which allowed me to see his stats and karma, I might have fallen for his polished demeanor.

[Argelio von Freebern (B)]

[Skills: Thorn of the Mind (A), Lies More Convincing Than Truth (A), ???]

Karma: -132

Argelio was a textbook villain—a master manipulator with a penchant for lies. I couldn’t let his mockery slide.

“Tell me, Argelio,” I said, my tone sharp. “Have you ever stopped to wonder why that forest is overrun with monsters?”