Chapter 48
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 48
Chapter Title: Aftermath (2)
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Long ago, the Hespania Mountains served as the hidden lair of the continent's largest black magic faction.
That was why, when they finally succeeded in summoning the Demon King while evading the eyes of the Empire and the Sun Church, the Hespania Mountains were the first to be corrupted by demonic energy...
Even hundreds of years after the Saint of that era slew the Demon King, its influence lingered strong.
A prime example was the Demon King's mouth. Though it had lost its immense power by now, 'it' was still spewing forth legions of demonic beasts to the outside world.
The role of the three Apostles guarding the Church was to staunch that horde of monsters.
"I heard you called for me, Your Holiness."
Having finished handing over duties to the Second Apostle, Israfeel had been summoned straight to headquarters without even a moment to wipe the demonic beasts' blood from her pristine white vestments.
The 'Oracle Chamber'—a place within the vast temple accessible only to a select few.
As she entered what was currently serving as Pope Adam Mayfield's office, Israfeel couldn't quite hide her sullen expression.
Continuing from before, after the Demon King's death, many changes had swept through the mountains.
Especially environmental ones... like plants corrupted by demonic energy, for instance.
Israfeel glanced at the boy leisurely brewing tea after summoning her.
His white hair fell to his waist, and his golden eyes shimmered faintly.
His androgynous features could make him seem like either a boy or a girl depending on the angle, but at this moment, the Pope's appearance was beside the point.
"Your Holiness..."
Israfeel pressed her forehead with a quiet sigh. Her complicated expression betrayed her concern over the Pope's actions.
Her troubled gaze landed on Adam's fingertips—more precisely, the purple leaf clutched in his hand.
"...If I'm not mistaken, that grass looks exactly like 'Croyst'."
"Hm?"
Only then did Adam turn to her. With an expression as childlike as his looks, he flashed a bright smile.
"You're here already? Israfeel. No need to rush like that. Looks like you came straight without even stopping by your quarters."
"..."
"You should've at least wiped off the blood. Tsk tsk, what would the Goddess think of that sight?"
Despite his words chiding her conduct, Israfeel merely looked indifferent.
She knew well that if she was late, he'd just nag her to move faster instead.
"Planning to brew and drink poison grass? I can't recommend it."
Israfeel let his words go in one ear and out the other, saying only what she needed to. Her eyes remained fixed on the purple young leaf in Adam's grip.
Croyst, a toxic herb. Once an ordinary plant native to the Hespania Mountains, it had gained its poison after exposure to the Demon King's power.
Even a cleric wielding divine power gained nothing good from prolonged contact with this relic of the Demon King.
"Tch."
Adam clicked his tongue dismissively, as if tired of Israfeel's nagging.
He'd already heard it so often from visiting Cardinals that it had worn grooves in his ears.
Adam shot her a side-eye and threw a little tantrum.
"You lot treat me like some doddering old man in the back room. Do you think I don't know what you know? I know everything, and I'm doing this fully aware, so stop meddling in every little thing."
Israfeel gave up at his added remark about how pitiful they were for not knowing Croyst's sharp, tangy taste.
"Do as you please, then. If you keel over from drinking it wrong, that's on you."
"Why not just curse me outright?"
Adam lifted his teacup with a weary look, while Israfeel shrugged nonchalantly.
She knew full well that the giant before her was far too great a cleric to be harmed by mere Croyst.
Demonic poison grass or brew—he could guzzle a basin full and just smack his lips afterward.
She'd only nagged out of an Apostle's duty; it wasn't sincere.
"Shall we get to the point? Unlike you, Your Holiness, I'm quite busy."
"Mm."
With that cool remark, Israfeel shifted the mood. After the recent incident, she doubted she could speak sweetly to Adam for a while.
And Adam, who knew the reason all too well, smirked as he replied.
"You that upset I separated you from Evan in this evaluation exam?"
"..."
"You should learn to control your expressions, Israfeel. I'm your superior, after all. Can't have you sulking like that."
"...If I've been rude, I apologize."
"Now you say that?"
Adam widened his eyes dramatically before chuckling, and Israfeel pouted her lips.
"You could've at least paired us somehow. You know how precious that boy is to me—did you have to cut it off so cleanly?"
A few days prior, during the pre-meeting for the third-quarter evaluation exam. While selecting supervisors to dispatch with the Saint and Saintess Candidates across the continent, Israfeel had naturally chosen Evan.
Among the selected sites for evaluating the candidates' abilities were several high-risk areas requiring an Apostle or senior Inquisitor as escort.
The Rayhem Ducal Territory assigned to Saint Candidate Evan Lane was one such zone, so she'd planned to handle it herself rather than leave it to others...
-Denied.
The Pope, who rarely voiced personal opinions in meetings, had rejected it outright.
So naturally, Israfeel couldn't help feeling miffed despite trying not to.
She snapped at Adam, who sipped his tea placidly no matter what she said.
"Time to be honest. You went out of your way to separate me from Evan, so I assume there's a good reason."
"Hmm..."
"You don't actually think I'd favor him and interfere with the exam, do you?"
Israfeel approached Adam threateningly, arms crossed and eyes blazing.
Someone had indeed voiced such concerns in the meeting hall.
The First Apostle's affection for one Saint Candidate was public knowledge. So wouldn't it make sense to separate them?─
"Think I'd do that?"
Adam snorted and set down his teacup. Seeing the purple liquid more than half gone, Israfeel nearly had a fit.
How could he drink that straight? Was the stomach of a sly fox over two centuries old just built different? As she eyed him suspiciously...
"Even if you and Evan Lane... overlapped bodies and grew close, you're not the type to mix personal feelings with official duties. Hahaha."
"..."
The unexpected jab at that timing froze her solid.
It felt like being hit by a grand archmage's petrification spell. Israfeel's lashes trembled as she stared at Adam, who wore a wicked grin.
"You didn't think I wouldn't know, did you?"
"...H-how."
"That monster of a kid finally reached a realm close to mine—how could I not notice? You're so oblivious, Israfeel."
Ob-obvious? Israfeel's pupils shook. She'd never imagined hearing such words from anyone but Evan.
As if seeing right through her, Adam smirked and continued.
"Your level aside, Evan's the same. I saw him casually step into a realm no Heresia child could reach, so... process of elimination."
The Sun Church had tens of thousands of followers. But few could further develop Evan's divine aptitude even one step.
"If not you, it'd be Isabel, but..."
Israfeel Hael or Isabel Sedent. But the answer was obvious.
Adam openly mocked Israfeel, who had covered her face with both hands.
"You know it too. Even as an adult, Isabel's not the type to pounce on Evan, whom I've watched since he was a little kid."
Unlike you, she's noble in that regard too. At Adam's murmured addition, Israfeel's head felt like it might explode.
"Conversely, Evan pouncing on her? Nah, no need to consider it when he's still got all his limbs intact."
"..."
"So who else but you? I saw it coming ages ago. The way you look at your brother is way too lecherous."
"...Kh."
Each of Adam's words stabbed like sharp daggers. Israfeel clutched her chest, feeling like she might cough up blood. She couldn't find a single rebuttal...
Adam watched her delightfully for a good while. After all, it was rare to see the First Apostle crumble like this.
"...Enough joking around."
He drained the remaining purple liquid from his cup with a gulp, then propped his chin more seriously than before.
"Israfeel Hael."
At that weighty call, Israfeel swiftly straightened up.
Adam Mayfield didn't overly emphasize authority by nature, but whenever he shifted demeanor like this, he carried the commensurate gravity.
He might be playful and lax normally, but he was the Pope.
The leader of the continent-spanning faith could never be taken lightly.
"Speak, Your Holiness."
Israfeel promptly composed herself and bowed her head. Her sea-blue hair cascaded gracefully along her neckline.
Adam rose slowly, his eyes tinged with golden light.
"─An oracle has come down."
"...!"
The words that followed were not ones to be uttered lightly—or heard lightly.
Israfeel swallowed dryly and slowly knelt on one knee, bowing reverently toward the golden radiance emanating from Adam.
What he would say now was not as the Sun Church's head.
With the previous Saint and Saintess having relinquished their powers, he was one of the scant few in these Hespania Mountains who could hear the Goddess's voice.
In other words, a divine revelation as Her proxy.
Adam's gaze flickered faintly.
"The King of Demons seeks to rise again, and the peril shall manifest in two forms."
"One in the ducal territory to the Empire's south, the other in the western swamps."
"Prepare without lapse to prevent the continent from being shrouded in darkness once more. It is the divine command."
His voice resonated through the space. Staring unflinchingly at the brilliantly flashing golden light as if the Goddess Herself had descended, Israfeel bowed without hesitation and replied.
"First Apostle Israfeel shall obey the command."
"Mm."
Adam nodded in satisfaction. The radiance filling the Oracle Chamber soon dispersed, and he pressed his forehead with a pained expression.
"...Hoo."
"Are you all right, Your Holiness?"
Israfeel hurried to her feet and supported him. No one knew better than she how much divine power relaying the Goddess's will consumed.
Ten years ago, on the fateful day she met Evan, it was the Goddess's voice that had guided her to that remote alley.
Even if he looked fine outwardly, internal damage was possible.
Indeed, Adam's complexion had visibly worsened, his aura wavering unstably.
"...Pardon me."
Israfeel sighed softly and shared some of her divine power with him.
It was only enough to bolster his energy a bit, but better than nothing.
As he slowly regained strength from her sea-like divine power, Adam smiled lightly.
"I'm fine, Israfeel. No need to fuss like this. See? Perfectly healthy."
"...Your Holiness."
"Whoa, look at those eyes. Keep it up, and you'll smack me. Tsk."
Adam pushed away the frowning Israfeel irritably. His boyish looks belied the mannerisms of an ancient geezer.
Israfeel couldn't help worrying, but Adam was stubborn. He merely regulated his breathing and continued his explanation.
"From what I sense, the swamps are more troubling than Rayhem. It's where Orthos was summoned five years ago, and... hm, my instincts aren't good."
"So you're sending me there?"
"Yes. Personality aside, you're more reliable than Isabel in ability."
"..."
"Hah, kidding, kidding. Don't make that face."
Adam waved it off with another laugh, and Israfeel sighed before asking again.
"...I can understand if it's about risk level. Then why not just swap Evan's assignment to the swamps?"
It might seem petty piling on now, but no harm in trying.
If she had to go to the swamps, they could switch Evan's posting. With that logic, Israfeel voiced her wish—but
"Denied."
Adam shook his head firmly, just as he had in the meeting.
Israfeel's eyebrows twitched.
"This is just my gut, but."
Yet Adam had his reasons. He wasn't tormenting her for no cause.
His eyes flickered faintly once more.
"Sending Evan to the swamps won't end well. Or more precisely, sending a 'male' there won't."
"...Pardon? What do you mean?"
Israfeel furrowed her brow in confusion. It was a profoundly cryptic warning and advice—too suspicious to brush off.
"Tch...! Stop prying! Just take it as is! I'm the Pope, the Pope."
"..."
Adam's irritable snap was one thing, but knowing the mystique of his 'foresight' as Pope, Israfeel grudgingly accepted.
If he was this firm, the situation must be dire.
"...Understood..."
"...Sheesh."
She nodded with slight dejection, and Adam didn't scold her further.
In any case, Israfeel was the Sun Church's second-highest asset.
If the Demon King truly revived after centuries as the oracle foretold... she'd be pivotal in the subjugation.
And yet, she was still just a 27-year-old woman.
"Hoo."
Adam sighed softly. Moments like this reminded him of his own powerlessness.
What top cleric, what hero from two centuries past? A half-baked old man chained to this pathetic mountain range—what could he do?
"...I'll leave the base of the mountains to you, Israfeel."
Even so, that was all he could say from his position.
Adam murmured weakly, and Israfeel bowed calmly, sensing his feelings.
"I shall exert myself fully from my post, Your Holiness."
Adam didn't reply. He merely patted her back bitterly.
"Ah, so you'll be traveling with a Heresia Family child. No close ties, but you've met before, I hear... Right?"
"...Y-yes? The, the Lady Heresia?"
"Yes. Lete Heresia."
"Ah, uh, um."
"Israfeel?"
"...Your Holiness."
"Hm?"
"Truth is, I, uh, have guy troubles... So things are a bit, very slightly awkward with that Lady Heresia. I, I kinda declared war on her."
"..."
"...Could I maybe request a personnel change? Like, another Saintess Candidate..."
"Israfeel."
"Yes, sir."
"No funny business."
"..."
"...You're the senior. Act like an adult and approach her first. I recommend it."
"Y-yes..."