Chapter 237
Chapter 237
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: EP.53 – The Stories of the Main Characters (1)
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Tap, tap.
"Oh, my shoulders..."
The old man tapped his shoulders, complaining of fatigue.
He prided himself on having the spirit of a young man overflowing with energy, but his body betrayed the passage of time. It was hard to find a single spot that didn't ache.
He considered closing his eyes for just ten minutes to relieve the exhaustion, but...
"Cardinal Raphael! The priests on the monster front lines are requesting reinforcements. They say it's urgent. How should we handle this?"
"-Not even a moment's rest."
He had to listen to the priest's urgent report, as if there was no time even to shut his eyes.
And then it continued.
"A message from the borderlands! Monsters are on the verge of rampaging, and they need healing priests or healers!"
"Y-It's signs of plague. A month ago, we fell short on priests managing the region, and it seems the disease has broken out in a village we couldn't oversee properly."
"An emergency message from the capital..."
"...Hah."
...The reports kept coming one after another, giving Raphael a throbbing headache.
"Holy King!"
"...I'm no longer the Holy King."
"Ah! Cardinal!"
"Mm..."
Yes, he'd given up on that too.
He wasn't sure if his brothers were doing it on purpose, but they kept calling him Holy King or Cardinal, and though the titles made him uncomfortable, Raphael couldn't bring himself to scold them.
And why not?
"-With no one else to rely on but you, it's inevitable."
"Oh, Brother Roan."
"Don't call me brother. I'm not a follower of the Light God, and more than anyone, I despise the temple."
"Then shall I call you Young Master?"
"...Everything feels off, so just use my name."
"Haha, yes, Roan."
"......"
Roan Dimitri de Lionel.
The black-haired young man of Lionel's bloodline, treated as the North's de facto heir, frowned as he visited Raphael's office, but no one found it strange.
He'd been showing up punctually every day for a month like clockwork, but more than that...
"The temple's top benefactor has arrived, so we should at least serve tea."
"No, I don't want any. Don't bring anything."
"Then how about some holy water?"
"......"
...He was the 'benefactor' who had essentially bought the crumbling temple with money, taking it over.
No one in the temple could block his footsteps.
Yet Roan, who now held what was once a temple rivaling the royal family's authority, looked utterly displeased, which was rather ironic.
"Sigh, if not for the instructor's 'advice,' I wouldn't have gotten tangled up with the temple."
"I'm always grateful to Brother Lee Han. And to you as well, Roan. Thanks to you, the temple can fulfill its role."
"...Tch."
Roan clicked his tongue softly, whether uncomfortable with Raphael—decades his senior—treating him with such deference, or simply displeased with the situation itself.
'...What a joke.'
Was it strange that using the curses he'd learned from the instructor eased his mind?
'...To think the temple's sworn enemy is now in this position. It's absurd.'
In the past—no, before experiencing the 'Miracle of Time' in his 'first life,' Roan had been the temple's arch-nemesis, no exaggeration.
He was the butcher who had slaughtered countless heresy inquisitors and holy knights, after all...
Some called him cruel, a human executioner, but even first-life Roan had his say.
Specifically:
'-I assert that my brutal acts pale in comparison to those of the temple and noble alliance. They're mere drops in the bucket.'
Indeed.
If Roan was a vengeful ghost, they were demons of the mortal world. In his first life, Roan's cruelty toward the temple's evils had only grown more savage.
Now living his second life, he'd prepared to preemptively eliminate the corrupt high priests and the nobles more monstrous than monsters to avoid repeating that life...
'I never imagined one of my mortal enemies would self-destruct like an idiot...'
His comrades from the first life would have been just as dumbfounded.
...But comically, even a month after the incident, it was still hard to believe.
'I couldn't have dreamed those vicious demons would die so pointlessly.'
That Cardinal Michael, his hated foe from the first life who seemed like he'd rise as an undead even after death, was gone.
It was frustrating not to have killed him personally, yet the emptiness mixed with relief at his tortured death was amusing.
However, harder to believe than Michael's demise was...
'That the temple has collapsed.'
Thoroughly...!
About seventy percent of high priests in key positions were dead.
Temples across the capital and provinces lay half-destroyed.
Rebuilding would take at least a decade... no, considering the widespread distrust, maybe thirty years.
Half-ruined temples could be rebuilt, priests replaced...
'But lost trust isn't so easily regained.'
Roan couldn't decide if he should rejoice at the temple he'd wanted to dismantle crumbling on its own, or feel empty.
Yet considering the fallout from the temple's fall, rejoicing felt wrong.
'Healing priests are short, and plagues are starting to spread?'
No matter how rotten, the temple was revered, its sins forgiven, because it was irreplaceable.
Holy power.
Proof of the gods' existence, the [Miracle] bestowed by them.
With holy power's supply cut off everywhere at once, the chaos was inevitable.
'If I hadn't prepared 'healers' to replace healing priests in advance, the damage would have been worse.'
Of course, healers still couldn't fully substitute priests, which was why...
"-I'm helping this damned temple."
"We're always grateful to you, Roan. Thanks to your support, the temple can at least restart operations. Haha."
"It's not my intention. Merely..."
...choosing the greater good over personal grudges.
Roan recalled his conversation with the instructor.
-Hey, blackie, what're you gonna do?
-...What do you mean?
-Don't play dumb. You're smart; you get it.
-...Instructor, I despise the temple.
-I'm not asking about grudges; I'm questioning your 'goal.'
-Pardon...?
-Despise it all you want. You gonna let the temple fall like this? Fine if it collapses and you don't care; I won't say more since you have plans.
-Th-That's...
-Anyway, others will help even without you. The capital, merchant alliance, noble alliance, or guilds.
-Outrageous! Entrusting it to them is like giving fish to a cat. Thieves—no, bandits plotting to monopolize the temple's interests! Even if it revives later, those bandits will make it irreparable!
-You know it well.
-...!?
-So you don't want to leave it to those bastards? Then remake it your way. Better for you if it's to your taste.
-......
-Not forcing you. Just asking your will. You seem eager to change the South, building your own power for it, I figured.
-......
-If I misunderstood, I apologize. Sorry.
-...No. Don't apologize.
Only he would become the ugly one...
'No, I already am ugly...'
Roan smiled bitterly.
Yes, most of his past enemies, including Michael, were dead.
Holding grudges against the temple now was impractical; better to use it. Yet he'd resisted out of sheer animosity, without foreseeing this.
How foolish—
'What a pathetic fool.'
Truly pathetic and stupid.
Even reflecting on himself, he was pathetic.
...But the instructor would have read his thoughts and said:
'Pathetic? Emotions cloud judgment when grudges linger. Real fools don't look back.'
-Something like that.
A chuckle escaped...
'Not like me.'
Amusing.
Who would've thought he'd rely on someone like this?
Still,
'Not bad.'
Having someone to rely on.
Hoo!
Roan exhaled deeply, as if his self-reflection was done.
Now, then.
"To reiterate, Cardinal Raphael. All temple organizations will undergo audits henceforth. The heresy inquisition will be shut down, and priest selection will face strict restrictions."
"Naturally."
"Priests' personal assets will be publicly disclosed at all times."
"If that's the path to regaining trust, we'll gladly comply."
"Relations with nobles must be severed."
"Of course."
"...You're really fine with all this? The backlash won't be light."
"Haha, it's just another trial to pass in time."
"...I see."
The temple's last conscience, indeed.
No wonder he hated yet trusted and sponsored it.
Roan nodded emphatically, stating the most crucial condition.
"Then the last one. Officially become the Holy King. As the new focal point and symbol of the temple—"
"Ah, I'll pass on that."
"......"
"A more capable junior should take the Holy King's seat. What good is an old man like me climbing so high...?"
"...How many times have we repeated this?"
Again, the temple had self-destructed due to its own sins.
Yet it barely held its form because of him.
'Only thanks to that old priest's presence.'
The one who protected young followers and priests during the great fire?
Raphael.
The one who knelt until his knees bled before the rioting crowds demanding condemnation?
Raphael.
The one who eradicated the capital's plagues over the past month?
Raphael.
...In short, only this old priest could captain the temple back from the brink, like a sandcastle about to collapse.
Amid universal scorn for the temple, public opinion on Raphael alone remained positive.
No one else could ascend to Holy King; he was irreplaceable.
'Decades of healing tours shining now.'
Thus, only this old man qualified as the temple's leader, and no one else could claim Holy King.
To do so now would require a dead saint or saintess resurrecting for any chance of support.
Of course...
'Even if they did, I wouldn't acknowledge them.'
Roan was determined to make him Holy King.
He needed immense 'power' to achieve his goals.
For example...
'Influence enough to topple even the royal family—!'
For that first step, he'd force the stubborn old priest to become Holy King.
...No matter what!
"That's some obsession..."
"Our lord has that side to him. Please look favorably on it, Saintess."
The girl, overhearing their conversation by chance, clicked her tongue.
It evoked a spear-versus-shield clash, the kind of brutal exchange that would make even a fierce battle pale.
But soon, she glared at the one who called her 'Saintess,' eyes blazing.
It was the title she hated most lately.
"Jack. Wanna fight me?"
"...My apologies."
"Then stop calling me Saintess. My head hurts enough already."
"Everyone admires you, Irene, so try not to hate it too much."
"...That's why I'm staying put, tch!"
Rumble...!
Irene swung her staff, infused with water-blue mana.
In that instant.
Whoosh!
A pure, pristine scent of clear water soaked the earth, transforming the fire-blackened land as if washing filthy clothes clean.
And moreover.
Plop, plip.
As if proving it wasn't surface-level, fresh green sprouts burst forth, and trees with living roots regenerated, rewinding time to reclaim their original forms.
"......"
In moments, part of the forest was restored, and wild animals like sparrows and squirrels—emerging from who-knows-where—appeared in the vibrant woods.
"Phew, exhausting. How many more areas left to restore?"
"......"
"Jack?"
"...Denying you're a saintess after this feels more deceptive."
"Huh?"
"...Nothing."
Jack clamped his mouth shut to avoid irking her.
He knew better than anyone that those beautiful mana flows could bisect a person.