Chapter 216
Chapter 216
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 216
Chapter Title: To You, I've Always Been Astria
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Amidst the soaring Black Flame.
"Kyaaaaaaaah!"
Astria's piercing scream rang out as Krash ascended high into the sky.
He then pulled her up into a princess carry and dove straight down, legs extended toward the ground.
BOOM!
As Krash landed, a puff of smoke gently swirled around them.
Protected by his aura, he felt no damage at all—until a tug at his hair.
Krash turned his head to the side.
There stood the Saintess, cheeks puffed out in fury, tears welling in her eyes as she yanked his hair.
It seemed his Saintess suffered from a fear of heights.
"...You okay?"
Krash belatedly asked, and she turned away with a sulky expression.
Her body froze mid-motion.
That was because countless citizens of Freeman filled her view.
Some were visitors enjoying the festival,
but none among them didn't know the Saintess.
"Saintess?"
Someone spotted Astria and called out, confusion spreading across her face.
She hurriedly adjusted her robe's hem.
Only then did she realize her robe had come undone, exposing her sunlit hair,
and the mask that had hidden her face was gone.
Her eyes darted around.
She had always appeared before the people with unwavering poise as the Saintess, but showing up like this was a first.
"Astria."
Krash called her name.
Naturally, he set her down, and all eyes turned to her.
Astria straightened her back.
She had stood before crowds as the Saintess many times before.
She let her robe slip off completely.
Beneath it emerged a figure so exquisitely curved it seemed crafted by the gods themselves, clad in the Saintess's robes.
In that instant, her presence shifted dramatically.
Behind her serene, compassionate face—almost reverent—light gathered, forming a halo.
All who beheld her lost themselves in awe.
Then, her lips parted.
"Citizens of Freeman, and all who believe in the gods, I, Saintess Astria Stigma Freeman, have an announcement to make."
Her voice flowed with profound nobility.
No one else could claim the title of Saintess but her.
"The Saintess of Freeman is not a creation of the gods, but a fabrication of Freeman's sacred royal family to elevate their prestige."
And from that very Saintess came words denying the institution itself.
Those entranced by her began to grasp the meaning, one by one.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Some looked utterly bewildered, unsure of what they'd heard.
Yet everyone strained to hear her voice.
Astria had fully seized control of the scene.
"It was a wicked tradition. Over the past centuries, countless Saintesses were produced and exploited for Freeman's selfish gains."
And countless more had been discarded once they ended that evil custom.
Astria clasped her hands together, honoring all past Saintesses.
"I could not tolerate it. Though I am a Saintess myself, I refuse to let this wicked tradition—born of Freeman's greed—continue."
Her voice carried emotional power.
And that power reached every citizen present.
Her sun-like eyes gleamed brightly.
"Today, I will end it."
Krash lifted the Holy Grail at her side.
At the same moment, pitch-black flames of Black Flame ignited in his grasp.
Black Flame
Pitch-black inferno engulfs the Holy Grail
Beside the roaring Black Flame, Astria declared to all.
"Astria Stigma Freeman."
For the first time, a girlish smile fitting her age bloomed on her ever-compassionate face.
CRACK!
The Holy Grail melted in the Black Flame, cracks spiderwebbing across it.
"From this day forward, resigns as Saintess."
SHATTER!
The Holy Grail exploded into fragments and burned away.
That smile convinced everyone of her sincerity.
"The Saintess is quitting?"
"For real?"
"I-Is that even allowed?"
"What happens to Freeman now?"
"Doesn't this mean the royal family committed blasphemy?"
"Ex-Exactly! Emergency broadcast!"
Naturally, her declaration sparked instant chaos.
Those beyond her voice's reach heard the news and shared the shock.
On the day of the gods' festival,
the Saintess had declared her resignation.
An inevitable reaction.
And this moment would be etched in history forever.
That was when it happened.
"Follow Lady Astria's will!"
"The sacred royal family of Freeman must pay for their blasphemy!"
Loud voices boomed from the crowd.
They belonged to agitators.
Krash's gaze shifted toward the temple.
He knew exactly who was behind it.
'They've changed tactics.'
Holy King Tersada Beakis.
The moment he heard of this, he'd altered his plans.
They could no longer abolish the Saintess tradition themselves.
So instead, they'd exploit the situation to topple the sacred royal family and spark a religious revolution.
Except the leader was no longer the Krash they'd hoped for—but the former Saintess.
Then, something began raining from the sky.
Newspapers detailing the sacred royal family's blasphemous acts over the years.
They spread like wildfire, igniting the people's fury.
Everyone now knew the horrific deeds committed to elevate or protect the nation's prestige.
And it was enough to stir the deep-seated resentment toward the royal family.
Like rulers everywhere,
even the sacred royal family couldn't satisfy all grievances.
And this event was a spark big enough to set them ablaze.
"The sacred royal family must pay!"
"Blaspheming the gods? Have you lost your minds? Come out of the palace and face judgment!"
As expected, the inflamed citizens roared for change in Freeman.
Religion had bound them together.
Now that their faith had been betrayed, their rage united as one.
'This is why religion is so terrifying.'
Betraying one's beliefs was utterly unforgivable.
BOOM!
At that moment, an explosion echoed from the sacred royal family's stronghold.
Krash knew exactly who caused it.
'That sly snake's finally making his move.'
Tersada and the opposition were launching a full assault to dismantle the sacred royal family.
A religious revolution they'd failed to achieve before his regression.
But this time felt different.
Perhaps because the Saintess herself had stepped forward to resign and expose the evil.
The citizens' fury burned hotter than ever.
And rightfully so—everyone knew how faithfully Astria had fulfilled her role.
"Astria."
Krash called to her as she silently watched the enraged crowd.
"...Was this the right thing to do?"
She worried if directing their anger at the royal family was wise.
This could lead to bloodshed for many.
"Who knows."
"It's what we did. We can't just brush it off by saying we don't know..."
"No, most things in this world are unknowable by nature."
Krash snapped at the anxious Astria.
"No action always brings the right outcome, just as no action always brings ruin."
Krash knew this better than anyone.
The world he'd seen through regressions never yielded purely good or bad results.
"That's why we give our all."
To nudge toward even a slightly better outcome.
So he'd have no regrets in the end.
He pushed forward without rest, not even for a day.
"You just do the same."
Astria met Krash's eyes.
Reading the sincerity in them, she let out a hollow chuckle for some reason.
Then she slowly looked up at the sky.
Drifting clouds were vast enough to briefly veil the sun.
A shadow fell over her face.
"You... I'm not a Saintess anymore."
"Yeah, I guess not."
"Does a girl like me even have a place going forward? People want the Saintess. They won't want Astria."
She had always stood before them as the Saintess.
And assumed she always would.
But now that she'd quit, she couldn't speak lightly of what remained for her.
"I want you."
In that moment,
Krash's words came out matter-of-factly.
Astria's gaze, fixed on the sky, slowly turned to him.
His eyes shone with a deeper blue than ever.
"What I've always wanted isn't the Saintess. It's been you, Astria, all along."
Krash had always seen her not as the Saintess, but as Astria.
From that very first day.
He had treated her as Astria, not the Saintess.
Looking into those eyes, she finally understood.
Why she kept falling for this man more and more.
'Because from the start until now, he's seen me only as Astria.'
No one else in the world had done that.
Perhaps someone would in the future.
But no one else could see the Saintess's self as Astria.
How could she not love such a person?
Even if she were reborn dozens of times,
lived dozens of lives.
The moment she laid eyes on him once,
she'd undoubtedly feel the same again.
A breeze blew in.
A warm, sun-like wind.
That was why, perhaps,
the words slipped from her lips unbidden.
By then, the clouds had parted overhead.
Through the gap,
sunlight poured down onto Astria.
Her scarlet hair, symbol of the sun, gleamed vividly in its rays.
As if even the gods were adorning her smile.
She wore a radiant, breathtaking smile.
"So take responsibility for turning my life like this—forever."
A selfish desire she'd never indulged as Saintess.
The moment she revealed that one greed.