Inherent Revulsion

The moment the final step ended and Ena's feet touched the cold floor, the faint clamor echoing from the upper gallery died down completely beneath the thick stone walls. In the deepest depths of the Holy Church, only a damp, heavy silence remained, as if it were a place that had long forbidden even the breath of man.

The air in front of the sealing chamber was different from above. The scent of incense was faint. The smell of holy water had almost vanished. Instead, the smell of long-shut stone and metal, the smell of silence preserved for far too long, and a damp claustrophobia that could only belong to a place buried in secrecy for ages hung low over the entire corridor.

Ena stared straight ahead without a word. Before her stood the door to the Holy Sword Sealing Chamber.

The place the Holy Church had called its deepest sanctuary for centuries, claiming no one dared open it lightly. The place where the Holy Sword supposedly slept, waiting for the day a chosen Hero would appear to wield it once more. The very place that countless priests and clergymen had babbled about, calling it an honor to enter even once in a lifetime, now stood before the two of them.

The door was beautiful. Upon its surface, where layers of white marble and silvery holy iron locked together, a massive relief in the shape of the Holy Sword was carved. Above the tip of the blade, a circular pattern resembling the sun spread out, surrounded by ancient holy words glowing in gold.

Ena stared at the inscription for a long moment. Then, she let out a very brief laugh. It was a breath too faint to even be called a chuckle.

"And yet, its owner was already holding on until the brink of death."

Her low voice sank slowly into the corridor. Roen said nothing. He quietly opened his ledger. The nib of his pen touched the paper.

Scratch.

This time, he wrote her name first. Before "missing." Before "sealed." Before "top secret." Before the emblem of the Holy Church, he wrote the name of the person who had taken up her sword, headed to the front lines, and ultimately never returned, placing it on the very first line.

Priests stood in a line in front of the sealing chamber. Rodenhaf was being supported by other clergymen. His red vestments were torn open from his shoulder down to his flank. The emblem of the Holy Church, embroidered in gold thread, was stained and discolored with dust, blood, and holy water, but he still kept his back straight. He was trying to maintain his face as a Cardinal. He was trying to cling to the authority of the Holy Church until the very end.

But Ena did not look at him. That fact made Rodenhaf look all the more pathetic. She gave him neither anger nor mockery. She simply stared at the door, as if even a glance in his direction was a waste of her time.

Creeeeak... The door opened completely. The inside of the sealing chamber was revealed.

The room was white enough to hurt the eyes. Golden prayers were densely engraved on the white marble walls, and transparent holy stones embedded in the ceiling shone like stars, bathing the entire room in a soft, white glow. On the floor, circular magic circles drawn with holy water overlapped in layers, maintaining a cold and elaborate shape, as if someone had held this place back from decaying for ages.

It was a beautiful room. So beautiful that it was, in fact, disgusting.

Ena stared at that beauty for a moment before slowly stepping inside.

Tap. Her footsteps echoed long inside the sealing chamber. And the moment she saw what lay in the center of the room, her steps halted.

"...Ha."

Roen's pen stopped. The moment he saw what was in the center of the room, a very low breath escaped the lips of the usually calm adjutant.

"This is not the work of humans."

Those words were closer to a confirmation than an outburst of anger. His voice sounded as if what lay before them was so starkly clear that no words remained to sugarcoat it.

Ena did not reply. She was looking at the central pedestal. It was the spot where the Holy Sword should have been resting. The place where the Holy Church had claimed for centuries that humanity's hope lay sleeping. The place where priests would have knelt, holy knights would have raised their swords, and royal envoys would have bowed their heads.

The Holy Sword was not there. Instead, there was a transparent holy glass case. Inside the glass case lay a single arm. A woman's arm, severed long ago. A faint Holy Stigma remained on the withered skin, and a white line running from the back of the hand to the wrist still held a very faint light.

That light resembled the residual glow of the Holy Sword. It had to. That arm belonged to the hand that had once held the Holy Sword.

The former Hero. The owner of the Holy Sword. Adeline Lucrecia.

The sealing chamber was too clean. The white marble, the golden prayers, and the scent of holy water surrounded a mere fragment of a human being, shining as if this were a natural state of divinity. That was the most sickening part.

Roen slowly looked down at his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ledger. He saw the first line he had just written. Adeline Lucrecia. For a moment, his hand froze, unsure of what to write beneath that name. Then, the nib of his pen touched the paper once more.

Scratch.

Roen paused for a moment. Then, as if gritting his teeth, he wrote the next line in a very low hand.

Even though Ena hadn't heard the words, she spoke as if she already knew.

"Do not write 'presumed.'"

Roen's hand stopped. Ena's gaze did not waver from the glass case.

"It is her."

A brief silence fell. Roen moved his pen again.

That sentence remained on the paper.

Only then did Ena let out a low laugh. There was no warmth in it.

"How truly devout."

Her voice bounced off the white walls of the sealing chamber and echoed back faintly.

"To put a human arm in a glass case, surround it with prayers, and call it the chamber of the Holy Sword."

The clergymen outside the door could say nothing. Only Rodenhaf's breathing grew ragged.

Ena slowly approached the holy glass case. On its surface, small preservation runes drawn with holy water were engraved in layers. It was elaborate. Truly elaborate. So that this arm would not rot for decades, or perhaps centuries. So that the resonance remaining in the Holy Stigma would not fade. So that it would register as if the Holy Sword were present here. All kinds of technique, faith, and authority had been poured into this single glass case.

All that devotion had been spent solely to avoid giving a single person a proper burial.

Ena placed her fingertips on the glass case. A cold sensation met her touch. Beyond the glass, the fingers of the arm were slightly curled, as if still trying to grasp something. Ena stared at those fingers for a long time.

"You didn't let go until the very end."

It was a quiet remark. It wasn't meant for anyone else to hear. Roen did not record that sentence.

Ena stood still for a long time, her hand resting on the glass case. The sealing chamber was excessively quiet. The clergymen dared not even breathe loudly. Roen also stood still, holding his ledger. He had served the Commander-in-Chief for a long time. He knew that when she was truly furious, she became even quieter.

It was the silence of someone who had arrived far too late.

Ena looked down at the arm inside the glass case. The hand that had held a sword for too long. The final piece of someone who had endured alone for far too long.

The Holy Church called it a holy relic. The residual glow of the Holy Sword. A token of divinity. The core of the seal. Under such names, they had preserved it for centuries. But in Ena's eyes, it was simply a human arm. A part of a warrior who had ultimately failed to return.

Ena spoke, very slowly.

"Roen."

"Yes."

"Record this."

The nib of the pen touched the paper. Scratch.

Without taking her eyes off the glass case, Ena said,

"Ena, Commander-in-Chief of the Sword Order."

A very faint heat began to rise beneath her fingertips.

"Retrieving the remains of the former Hero, Adeline Lucrecia."

Scratch. It was at that moment. The holy water runes engraved on the surface of the glass case suddenly flared with bright light. The sealing formula reacted. It was an automatic defense mechanism designed to protect the holy relic. Golden holy words glowed as they wrapped around the entire glass case, and the holy stones on the ceiling began to hum in unison.

Several clergymen urgently spoke up.

"W-Wait just a moment!"

"Commander-in-Chief, that relic is..."

Ena's gaze shifted. Very slowly. With that single look, the clergymen's voices cut off instantly.

Ena looked back at the glass case. Then, she channeled power into her fingertips.

Hum. A low sound vibrated through the air.

It was heat. At first, it was a tiny flame. A faint white fire blooming from her fingertips. However, it was no ordinary fire. The air inside the sealing chamber warped in an instant. The scent of holy water began to burn away. The golden prayers engraved on the walls distorted, buckling under the sheer heat. The clergymen's faces froze in pale terror.

Roen quietly lowered his ledger.

Crack. Cracks spread across the surface of the glass case. The holy words trembled as if screaming. The preservation formula tried to hold on. But from the moment the flame touched it, the outcome was already decided.

The white heat erased the holy words. It evaporated the holy water. It burned away the golden formulas one by one. And finally, the entire glass case quietly collapsed. Even the sound of shattering glass wasn't loud. It sounded as if something that had held on for far too long was finally being released.

The arm inside was exposed. Exposed to the cold air for the first time, a faint Holy Stigma shed its final light over Adeline's remains.

Ena stared at the hand. After a moment, she spoke in a very low voice.

"You have worked hard."

With those words, the flame grew. The white fire slowly enveloped the arm.

A clergyman gasped. Someone tried to stop her. Yet, no one could move. The flame did not look like destruction. It looked like a funeral. It looked like a cremation that had begun far too late.

The flame quietly wrapped around the arm. There was no smell of burning flesh. Instead, the scent of old holy water, dust, and prayers burned first. The layers of deception the Holy Church had piled on for centuries were the first to go up in flames.

Adeline's fingers slowly crumbled within the heat. The light of the Holy Stigma scattered with them. It was as if something that had been bound for an eternity was finally being set free.

Ena watched the scene until the very end, without so much as blinking. Roen quietly bowed his head.

After a moment, the flame vanished. All that remained was a tiny handful of ashes. Ena looked down at the ashes and said softly,

"Go home now."

The sealing chamber fell completely silent. And in that silence, someone realized for the first time: the Commander-in-Chief of the Sword Order had not burned the Holy Church's relic. She had given a proper burial to a warrior who had been unable to return for far too long.

Ena looked down at the ashes. In the place where the white flame had vanished, only a tiny amount of ash remained. For something the Holy Church had held onto for centuries, calling it a holy relic, what was left was absurdly small.

To preserve this tiny pile of ash, the Holy Church had crafted countless prayers, brought the seal of the Holy King, layered the holy words of Cardinals, and told the people that the Holy Sword lay sleeping.

Ena said nothing for a long time. Within that silence, the breathing of the clergymen grew louder. And from behind, very faint whispers could be heard.

"The seal's reaction..."

"We must report to the Holy King first..."

"The return of the Holy Sword..."

"If this gets leaked to the outside..."

Even now, they did not look at the ashes. They did not see Adeline Lucrecia. What they saw was the Holy Church's loss. The reaction of the sealing chamber. The report to be made to the Holy King. A way to recover the Holy Sword. A cover-up to hide this affair.

Ena slowly lowered her eyes. Heat still lingered where the ashes lay.

"The whispering behind me is getting annoying, Roen."

The entire sealing chamber froze. Roen bowed his head.

"Yes, Commander-in-Chief."

Ena did not look back. Her gaze remained fixed on the ashes.

"Cut it in half."

Roen's ledger snapped shut. Thud. It was a small sound.

Roen slowly turned around. Black liquid metal spread quietly from beneath his feet. The liquid metal flowed low like water, seeping between the ankles of the clergymen. Someone belatedly tried to step back, but it was already too late.

Roen's voice was calm.

"It is the Commander-in-Chief's order."

One of the clergymen opened his mouth.

"W-Wait..."

Slash!

The black liquid metal shot upward. The scream was cut short. Not much blood splattered. Roen was not the type of person to make a mess. He did only what was necessary. Exactly as much as he was ordered.

The priest whose tongue had been sliced in half clutched his mouth and fell to his knees. Another stumbled backward, blood dripping from his mouth ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as well. A third tried to chant a holy word, but as the black liquid metal grazed the underside of his chin, he collapsed onto the floor.

Roen did not kill them. He merely cut their talkative tongues in half. A crimson silence descended upon the sealing chamber.

Only then did Ena slowly turn her head. Every single clergyman was clutching his mouth. The very men who, just moments ago, had been whispering about the return of the Holy Sword, reporting to the Holy King, and the repercussions of public disclosure... were now bowing their heads, trying to stop their own blood from leaking through their fingers.

Ena looked at them and said,

"Much quieter now."

A faint, mocking sneer played on her lips.

"Roen."

"Yes, Commander-in-Chief."

"Record this."

Roen reopened his ledger with hands untouched by a single drop of blood.

"The Holy Church called human remains a holy relic."

Scratch.

"The Holy Church hid the absence of the Holy Sword with the Hero's arm."

Scratch.

Ena paused for a moment. The heat remaining on the ashes was slowly fading away.

"Therefore, Ena, Commander-in-Chief of the Sword Order."

Her voice sank low.

"Withdraws all cooperation with the Holy Church and bans all exchange."

It was a voice filled with utter contempt and rage.