Don't Touch My Apostle
Don't Touch My Apostle
The capital of the Southern Cross, Nova Crux.
The Central Cathedral standing at its heart was as massive as the game settings described. Twin spires pierced the clouds, and the rose window on the facade burned blood-red in the morning sun. The entrance alone was large enough to fit three Advents inside.
And standing in front of it, I asked Earl Grey again.
"I'm receiving my rank today?"
As soon as I got off the carriage, I repeated the same question for the third time.
"No, you're not just receiving a rank."
Earl Grey smiled and straightened the collar of my formal wear.
"Today, here. Evan, you are becoming an official Ranker."
Ranker. It refers to an Advent within the top 100 rankings designated by the World Reconstruction Council. An honorable title in itself, as from the moment you receive it, you become one of the powerful Apostles recognized by the world.
You might think that anyone with a rank is a Ranker, but the two are clearly different. If you're upset about it, take it up with the developers.
But it's strange.
It shouldn't be this easy to get. I heard that Ranker evaluations usually take months. According to the settings, the committee would pick apart combat records, hold several verification matches, and even then, it was common to be rejected.
But
I was summoned only a few days after the defense of the capital ended.
Was my performance that impressive?
...Or is there another reason?
Inside the cathedral. The gazes of the Military Knights lined up on the left and right pierced me all at once. Not even half of them were favorable. Whispers leaked out from somewhere.
"I heard he's a commoner."
"The 7th Saint Faction? You mean the one with only one member?"
Earl Grey's shoulders flinched.
I placed my hand on her shoulder to calm her down.
"It's okay. None of the people there have the right to say such things to you."
Earl Grey blushed and lowered her head.
I knelt in front of the podium. Earl Grey sat side-by-side next to me. Soon, footsteps were heard.
"Are you Evan?"
I knew this voice.
Southern Cross Rank 1.
Rank 15.
Apostle Maclellan. Saint Orangepekoe Macwood followed silently by his side. His ceremonial greatsword rested on my shoulder.
"Evan, no, Apostle Raven."
Maclellan's voice echoed through the cathedral.
"As a result of the World Reconstruction Council's temporary evaluation, Apostle Raven's rank registration has been approved. You are now a Ranker within the top 100."
"The Southern Cross recognizes your achievements and bestows upon you a knighthood."
My heart raced.
This was a ceremony where Rank 15 personally bestowed the title.
Maybe, it might be higher than I thought...
"Rank 77. And I command the conferment of Military Knight."
...Rank 77?
Military Knight? The applause rang out sparsely and then stopped. The reward was stingy considering I faced three Advents at once.
"I object."
Earl Grey, who should have been kneeling beside me, had jumped to her feet. Under the red light cast by the stained glass. In front of the podium where the 15th-ranked looked down.
Earl Grey, the head of the 7th Saint Faction, directly challenged the knighthood just read out. The lined-up knights stirred all at once.
I doubted my ears.
Was Earl Grey originally this kind of person?
I thought she was someone who didn't usually assert herself.
"Rank 77. And Military Knight."
Earl Grey's voice did not tremble.
"Is this all the reward for the achievement of defeating a 50th-rank Ranker and the two Advents he led?"
"Lady Earl Grey, that's enough—"
I tried to grab her sleeve, but Earl Grey did not back down.
"Military Knight is a title given to those of non-noble origin. For an achievement of this magnitude, it is only right to confer the title of official Military Knight, no matter how humble the origin."
"Our Apostle risked his life to protect this capital. If Logos hadn't been there that day, this cathedral wouldn't even be standing now."
The cathedral stirred again.
This time, it was louder than before.
It wasn't wrong. Maclellan scratched his chin. He dropped his solemn attitude and spoke in a slightly relaxed voice.
"It is true. I saw the combat footage too. Even accounting for the rapid stamina consumption, it's skill that would easily land him in the top 30."
Recognition from the world's 15th.
Hope flashed in Earl Grey's eyes.
However.
"That is why it is rank 77."
A cold voice cut in.
Orangepekoe Macwood, the Saint on the podium, continued without moving a single eyebrow.
"Does the 7th Saint Faction Leader know the number of Ranker Advents in each Saint Faction?"
"1st Saint Faction four, 2nd Saint Faction four, 3rd Saint Faction three, 4th Saint Faction two, 5th Saint Faction one, 6th Saint Faction two, and the 7th Saint Faction is—"
The tip of her folded fan pointed at me.
"From zero units to one unit as of today."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
Earl Grey retorted.
"When the number of Rankers in each faction is in the single digits, Earl Grey Twining, who has been treated as a non-entity until now, suddenly gains a top 30-rank Apostle. What do you think will happen?"
"That is..."
"Political checks. And as for this one."
The fan pointed toward my chest again.
"Someone with no background, and even an Easterner, having a high title... The Southern Cross knights will surely love that. Enough to send assassins, I'm sure."
Having said her piece, Orangepekoe turned away. Without allowing a rebuttal. Leaving only the sound of rustling fabric, the Saint disappeared behind the podium.
Silence.
As if to force that silence to break.
Maclellan shrugged.
"I've served her since I was young, but she's always such a spirited young lady."
Where?
Thus, the short ceremony ended, and we walked down the corridor leading to the banquet hall with Maclellan. Then Earl Grey stopped walking.
"I'm sorry, Evan. Because of me... you received such treatment."
Her eyes were wet.
I shook my head. It would be a lie to say I wasn't frustrated. The result of risking my life was Military Knight. A meaningless title thrown to a non-noble.
However.
Honestly, Orangepekoe's judgment is correct. If I forced the rank up here, the entire political world might turn against us. And the place where the nobles' blades would point... is not me, but Earl Grey.
So let's climb slowly. There are still 3 years left.
"I just need to achieve more."
I smiled.
"I'll climb to the top myself. To a point where no one can object."
"But... Evan worked so hard... You did so much..."
"There will be plenty of opportunities to fight for you, Lady Earl Grey, in the future. It doesn't have to be today."
Earl Grey bit her lip for a long time, then wiped away her tears and nodded forcibly. She still didn't look convinced, though.
"Perfect timing."
Maclellan clapped his hands.
"Kyungdanryeon is infiltrating our territory in real-time. The Southern Cross's full force needs to respond. If you want to achieve merit, it's a good opportunity."
My heart raced.
"Sounds good."
"Good attitude. I wish that blockhead Jack Daniel would learn a thing or two from you."
Jack Daniel? If it's that guy, isn't he that slick mercenary?
"Was he an acquaintance of yours, Mr. Maclellan?"
"We've met on the battlefield several times. As enemies, and as allies."
Maclellan grinned.
"His skills were impressive, so I tried to pair him with a Saint from the 3rd Saint Faction this time, but it didn't work out well. Oh, there he is. Jack Daniel! You bastard, what are you doing there!"
In the corner of the banquet hall. A handsome man holding a glass waved nonchalantly. Indeed, it was a familiar face. He walked toward us with heavy steps.
"The liquor here tastes good. The Southern Cross knights' cellar is different."
Maclellan sighed deeply.
"What about Saint Ori?"
"Like I said again, an old guy like me is poison to a kid like that."
"You don't get it when I talk to you."
"Don't you know I'm this kind of person?"
"Yeah. I know well."
Maclellan nodded.
"Because you're the type of person who only comes to their senses on a dangerous battlefield."
"Haha, right. I— wait. What?"
Jack, completely played by Maclellan, rushed at him in panic.
"The 7th Saint Faction is also participating in the defense against Kyungdanryeon's invasion. You join in as support."
Jack's glass stopped in mid-air.
"You want a mercenary to risk his life fighting on such a dangerous battlefield? Without a contract?"
"Weren't you looking for a place to die anyway?"
"That's..."
Jack was speechless.
I never agreed to take him in.
"That's all I have to say. You two, get to know each other here. You'll be comrades-in-arms soon."
There was no time to stop him. Maclellan came like a storm and left like a storm.
Jack and I looked at each other for a moment.
He shrugged.
I shrugged too.
Well, that happened.
It was then.
"Apostle-nim, do you have a moment?"
The scent of perfume wafted over.
Young Saints without Apostles. Three... no, four. It didn't even take three seconds for the encirclement of white robes to be completed. With the eyes of stray cats coveting someone else's fish.
"Rank 77, that's too harsh. Considering the Apostle's bravery."
"If it were our faction, we could promise you fair treatment."
"A knighthood, a fiefdom. Whatever you want."
"Instead of that woman who eats up Apostles... won't you sign a contract with me?"
"Eats up—?"
There was no time to correct them.
Because the temperature of the air next to me dropped sharply.
It was Earl Grey. The person who always laughed off difficult situations. The person who smiled brightly even when called a defective product or mocked, her expression was frozen.
"Saintesses."
At the coldness contained in that one word, the chattering voices stopped abruptly.
"Oh my, Lady Earl Grey."
The boldest one covered her mouth with a fan.
"You have such a scary face. Are you perhaps in love?"
"Or obsession?"
"...I am just trying to protect my Apostle from wicked temptations."
"Us, blessed by God, doing wicked things?"
"Yes."
An immediate answer without a shred of hesitation.
The warmth drained from the Saints' smiles. The air turned hostile. If this continues, it will escalate into a faction fight. Should I step in, how—
It was then.
"Instead of someone who's taken, how about me?"
It was Jack.
The handsome man slid between the Saints, and their eyes wavered at his charming voice.
It was brief, but it was clear.
"...Who are you?"
"Unemployed with a gap in my career for several years. A freelance mercenary."
A strong premonition of a "dud in a fancy suit." The Saints stepped back half a step in unison. The eyes that had just wavered cooled down as if nothing had happened.
"What are you, you? Why are you interfering with us?"
"Interfering? I was evaluating."
"Evaluating?"
"I was checking if there was even one qualified girl among the women who stepped up to steal my friend's Saint's position."
The laughter disappeared from Jack's voice. It was a low tone, stripping away that light, social acting tone.
"The result is— everyone failed."
The Saints' expressions stiffened unpleasantly. The mouths that tried to retort opened and closed several times.
Now is the time. I signaled my thanks to Jack with a look, and gently pulled Earl Grey's wrist to leave the banquet hall.
I heard Jack laughing behind my back. As if to say, "This much is nothing." Next time we meet, I'll have to buy him a drink or something.
The corridor was quiet. The noise of the banquet hall faded, and only our footsteps echoed on the marble floor. Earl Grey was silent.
Her gaze was on the floor. Her fingertips were just fiddling with her hem. Her steps kept slowing down half a step behind.
She's been acting strange all day today. Is it because of the title? Or because of those Saints earlier? I don't know the reason, but one thing was certain. I shouldn't leave her like this.
I took her hand.
Her small, cold hand flinched and trembled.
"Saint-nim, I'm sorry I couldn't say it clearly earlier. I have no intention of serving any other woman besides you, Lady Earl Grey."
Earl Grey raised her head.
Her face instantly turned red to the tips of her ears.
Ah. Was that a bad move? My spine went cold.
Did I, a guy with zero dating experience and a blind date destroyer, make another mistake?
I hurriedly let go of her hand.
"If that was rude, I apologize—"
"No."
Earl Grey shook her head vigorously.
"It's okay. It's not that, it's just..."
A voice trailing off.
"Hand. Could you keep holding it?"
"...This is a hallway where people walk, someone might see us."
"...Please hold it."
"Okay."
There was no reason to be reserved when she asked like that.
The hand we held again was a little warmer than before.
Walking to the end of the corridor, we didn't say anything. A passing servant saw us and widened their eyes, but Earl Grey didn't let go of my hand.
And I didn't let go of that hand either.
The duty of a Saint is to carry out God's will and love all things.
It was the first teaching I learned at the convent.
To love all things without discrimination. I have lived by that teaching. That was why I didn't lose my smile even when I was mocked as a half-baked Saint.
But just a moment ago.
I felt hatred toward the Saints approaching Evan-nim.
A hot, vivid hatred that surged up to my throat.
Toward sisters blessed by the same God.
Jealousy.
The greatest of the deadly sins.
Why on earth am I like this?
When those Saints tried to take Evan-nim's hand, when the word "contract" came out of their mouths. My mind went blank, and my heart tightened coldly.
Those things trying to take that hand, that position—
My things. No, pull yourself together. Earl Grey. Such blasphemous thoughts— you shouldn't even hold them in your mind.
In a relationship where mutual respect is a duty.
A Saint calling an Apostle "mine."
It's like... a woman in love.
No. No. That can't be.
My relationship with him is strictly Saint and Apostle. Since we entrust our lives to each other, it's natural to feel a sense of closeness.
But that's not like the affection of a lover.
Right. Evan-nim is an upright person. I just hated those who were trying to lead him into wicked temptations. As a Saint, I was just trying to protect my Apostle.
That's all.
...Right?