Chapter 104
Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 104
Chapter Title: Brayden's Predicament
It had been over ten days since Celine set off toward the Empire's 2nd Western Outpost.
They must have reached the terrorists' location a full week ago, yet there was still no word from Celine or her unit.
With more than 500 troops mobilized against just four enemies, defeat was simply unthinkable. So why was the report taking so damn long?
Brayden, who had gone to mediate the conflict on the Empire's southern front and was now staying in a nearby village, grew increasingly restless as he awaited Celine's report.
Should he head there himself to check on things if it came to it?
But as the Holy Warrior, he wasn't someone who could just move about freely on a whim.
'What kind of position is this, where I can't even properly check on my girlfriend's well-being...'
Brayden's mouth soured at the thought. Sitting idle would only breed more nagging worries, so he decided to make use of his time with some training and stepped out of his room in the upscale inn.
As soon as he descended to the first floor, the Empire's citizens recognized him and erupted in massive cheers, welcoming him warmly.
"The Holy Warrior is here!"
"Holy Warrior!"
"Thank you for protecting our city, Holy Warrior!"
"If the war escalates, we'd be the first to get swept up. We were terrified. You saved our lives, Holy Warrior!"
Brayden smiled lightly at the cheering crowd and waved back.
He wasn't particularly materialistic, but there was one thing he truly savored as the Holy Warrior: this adulation and the satisfaction of his pride in it.
The voices of praise directed at him, the eyes brimming with admiration, the gasps of awe—they all made him feel the weight of his title as Holy Warrior.
Such treatment was hard to come by anywhere else.
No—even now, as the Holy Warrior, thinking back to right after his appointment ceremony a year ago made his head spin.
Back then, people had whispered endlessly that his holy sword didn't shine, that he failed at everything he tried.
They'd called him a fool behind his back, questioned if he was just a fake playing at being the Holy Warrior.
Recalling those days, he had no desire to relive even a fraction of that humiliation.
The rumors had only died down after he'd razed Libertà to the ground and displayed his prowess. In hindsight, he should've made such a bold move sooner, but what did it matter now?
"Um... Holy Warrior. This is a cake I made myself. I wanted to repay you for your help somehow... Would you mind tasting it?"
A cute village girl approached, blushing as she held out the cake. Brayden smiled and took a bite.
A subtle sweetness spread through his mouth, and he nodded approvingly.
"Your skills are impressive. You could open a bakery with talent like that."
"Hah...! Th-thank you! It's an honor that the Holy Warrior ate my cake!"
The girl bowed repeatedly after handing it over, then scurried away with quick steps.
The soldiers escorting Brayden finally spoke up, their voices laced with concern.
"Holy Warrior, that could have been poisoned. You ate it before we could even check..."
"Wouldn't it hurt her feelings if I suspected a girl who'd so earnestly made a cake for me? Besides, the goddess's power protects me from most poisons. I'm fine. Anyway, the cake's delicious. Want a bite?"
Brayden truly cherished moments like these.
When people acknowledged him, approached him with a mix of awe and eagerness to impress, and he pretended not to notice their praises whispered behind him—it filled his heart with pride and a profound sense of accomplishment.
Enough to briefly forget even Celine's perilous situation.
At that moment, one of his attendants entered from outside and urgently called for Brayden.
"Holy Warrior, the Imperial Mage has come to see you. He says he has urgent matters to discuss and requests a private meeting in your room."
"The Imperial Mage? Understood. I'll prepare right away. Bring him to my room."
"Yes, sir."
Brayden shelved his training plans and returned to his room. Less than three minutes later, an elderly man with a shock of white hair entered.
They weren't close enough to correspond regularly, but Brayden recognized the face.
"Welcome, Lord Bastol. Forgive me for not receiving you properly in a guest hall despite your valuable time."
"Hoho, for the Holy Warrior to greet me personally—how could I quibble over the venue? It's been a while since the Fresia Mountains investigation, Holy Warrior."
Brayden's expression stiffened for a split second.
That trip to resolve the gargoyle overbreeding incident had ended in total failure, only amplifying the scandals around him. It wasn't a memory he cared to revisit.
But he quickly composed himself and replied as usual.
"I heard you were unwell. Are you recovered now? I was shocked to hear you'd taken a full month off. At your age, I worried that mountain trek might have taken a toll..."
"This old body is tougher than it looks. A little hike like that is nothing. I took leave simply because I needed time to recover from an attack by some rude beast."
"Attacked by a beast? Then shouldn't you rest more..."
"I'm fully recovered now. Duty calls."
An Imperial Mage sidelined for a month by a beast attack? It sounded absurd, but the man looked ancient enough that mishaps weren't surprising. Brayden let it drop.
"You mentioned you had business with me."
"Yes. Clashes have just broken out at the northernmost border region between our Empire and the Pratea Kingdom. We're evacuating civilians from the danger zones, but our forces are stretched thin managing them. That's why I've come to ask the Sword of the Goddess for aid."
Brayden furrowed his brow slightly and responded calmly.
"The Sword of the Goddess is a neutral organization. If we were seen favoring Empire citizens, the world would view us as beholden to the Empire. That's not the goddess's will, so while I understand your plight, fulfilling the request would be difficult."
"Ah, no need to worry on that front. We won't interfere if the Sword of the Goddess conducts relief efforts for kingdom-side cities near the border—in fact, we won't attack you at all. It's simply that the relief is happening on Empire soil... Can't you see it that way?"
Bastol had a point, so Brayden pondered briefly.
Then the door burst open, and attendants rushed in with urgent news.
"H-Holy Warrior! We've got two emergency reports!"
"What is it?"
"That disturbing rumor that's been circulating... It's true—Deputy Commander Robert is a heretic! Benjamin, the priest running the church in the Trancen Mountains, confessed everything before his martyrdom. Priests in Levendale have testified to it in the name of the gods! They even say there's a 'real Holy Warrior' out there! The rumors are spreading like wildfire starting from Levendale..."
Brayden shot to his feet, his trigger pulled.
A separate 'real Holy Warrior' meant he, Brayden, wasn't the true one.
He'd barely quashed those rumors a year ago—how could they resurface now?
The attendant continued with the second report.
"And the second piece of news... I-I don't even know how to phrase this..."
"What happened?"
"Well... It appears Celine's unit, sent to eliminate the terrorists, was defeated in battle and captured by them. The 500-plus soldiers who deployed with her seem to have been taken prisoner as well..."
"What!?"
Brayden instinctively gripped his holy sword, ready to depart immediately.
"Where is Celine now? Still at the 2nd Western Outpost? Tell me her position!"
"Y-yes! The terrorists haven't shown any signs of moving yet..."
"We're heading out right now! Mobilize every soldier here immediately—"
Then Bastol quietly interjected.
"Holy Warrior. I'm not part of the Sword of the Goddess, but may I overstep with a word?"
"......?"
"In my view, focusing on Imperial relief efforts rather than rescuing Lady Celine would serve the greater good."
"Lord Bastol, Celine is my lover! And we have no obligation to meddle in the Empire-Kingdom war!"
"Quite right. But consider the situation. Would the public agree?"
Bastol clasped his hands and explained slowly.
"Now that a key figure from the Church and Sword of the Goddess has been exposed as a heretic, and the rumors are spreading, the Church—especially the Sword of the Goddess—faces a massive image crash. In Levendale and nearby cities, their reputation must already be in the gutter. If the Church's pinnacle, the Holy Warrior himself, abandons war-torn civilians to save only his lover elsewhere, what will people say?"
"......"
"They'll say the group that harbored a brazen heretic ignores the goddess's call to bring happiness to all, acting only on personal whims. That to the Holy Warrior, one lover matters more than thousands of suffering citizens. That the 'separate Holy Warrior' rumor must be true. That they knew he was a failure all along. And worse..."
Bastol's eyes gleamed as he fixed Brayden with a stare.
"That the 'fake Holy Warrior' rumor from the appointment ceremony was true all along."
"!!!"
"Outlandish rumors like that will spread. The Church's image plummets, the Sword of the Goddess's too, and yours as well. That puts the Empire in a tough spot. With your headquarters here and war breaking out with the kingdom, internal unrest could erupt."
Bastol kept pressing his case.
"But if you grit your teeth, set aside your lover, and demonstrate the greater good... People will be convinced. The noble, great Holy Warrior sets aside his heartbreak to save the people. A true apostle of the goddess, overcoming personal pain for others... Can't you picture it?"
Just as Bastol described, the scenarios crystallized in Brayden's mind.
The judgment he'd face for rescuing Celine versus abandoning her for the war-weary masses.
"Of course, as someone tied to the Empire's war effort, this may seem presumptuous and callous—like I'm ignoring your personal pain for the Empire's gain. I know it sounds brazen after all I've seen in my long years, but I couldn't stay silent out of worry for what follows. Forgive my impertinence."
As Bastol bowed his head, Brayden's hand trembled on his sword hilt.
He wanted to rush to Celine right now.
But afterward?
The 'fake Holy Warrior' rumors he'd barely suppressed, the sneers and mockery—letting them revive, solidify as fact? Unbearable.
Him? A special person like me? As strong as I am? Chosen by the goddess? Reduced by baseless gossip, made a laughingstock, treated like a fool just for saving his lover?
I'm a special human, a superior one! Chosen by the goddess! Back to that fraud treatment from a year ago, when everyone looks up to me now?
No way!
His dark elitism and craving for authority surged. Brayden issued orders to his attendants.
"...... Prepare for deployment, all of you. We'll begin relief efforts for civilians at the northernmost Empire-Kingdom border."
"Holy Warrior, on behalf of the Empire, I deeply thank you for this noble, profound sacrifice."
Brayden didn't notice Bastol smirking as he bowed.