Chapter 111 Heretic (5)
Heretics (5)
The Saint Birth Festival.
Literally, a festival celebrating the birth of a Saint. Conceptually, it bore some resemblance to Christmas from my past life.
The only real difference was that this one was meant to celebrate an actual Saint who had passed through trials.
"So I'm the main attraction, then?"
"Don't feel too burdened. It's merely a festival held once every few decades."
That just makes it more burdensome.
Suppressing the words rising to my throat, I looked at the Pope. He let out a hearty laugh before his expression softened back into benevolence.
"I jest. You need only enjoy yourself."
"Is that so?"
"Indeed. Though..."
The Pope stroked his beard with a slightly troubled air, faintly furrowing his brow.
After a moment of thoughtful silence, he spoke again.
"No. This hardly seems the place for such discussions."
"Is there some problem?"
"First, let us return to the sickroom. There's no gain in drawing further attention here."
Following his gaze, I noticed the crowd had swelled considerably without my realizing.
Just earlier, the plaza had been packed full, but now the throng stretched all the way to the walls and fences of distant buildings.
It seemed the Pope's appearance had drawn even more people.
Unlike before, however, the crowd showed no signs of rushing forward. If anything, they maintained orderly restraint.
This stark contrast to their behavior when I appeared raised questions.
Yurp, perhaps noticing my thoughts, whispered quietly to me.
"His Holiness is famous for harshly punishing those who break order."
"Harsh punishment?"
"Yes. Like copying Scriptures ten times, or copying Scriptures a hundred times."
Why is it always Scripture copying? And how could copying something ten times possibly qualify as harsh punishment?
More questions surfaced. Yurp giggled at my expression and continued.
"You'd understand immediately if you saw the Scriptures yourself, Unnie."
"How thick could they possibly be?"
"Hehe, 'thick' doesn't even begin to cover it."
Her face brimming with mischief, she earned a sigh from the Pope, who chided her.
"You're practically the only one who's received that punishment in recent years, you rascal."
"Eh, I'm sure there were others? Like Ka-il Orabeoni?"
"That boy only got it once. Nothing like you, who's received it over ten times."
"Ehehe."
Tsking, the Pope walked ahead while Yurp playfully stepped on his shadow as she followed. Their bond appeared far deeper than I'd imagined, surprising me slightly.
"Was she that much trouble in the past?"
"Oh, not that much."
Yurp scratched the back of her head as she answered.
The Pope stopped walking ahead of her. Turning back with an incredulous look, he let out a dry laugh.
"Nonsense. You caused every kind of mischief imaginable behind my back."
"Well... I probably wouldn't have if I hadn't been made a Saintess Candidate?"
It seemed her rebellious phase had stemmed from resisting the Saintess Candidate position. Considering she'd gone as far as fasting—her last resort—that spoke volumes.
"Tch, you've always had a talent for spurning kindness."
"Hehe."
Yurp laughed awkwardly, brushing off his words. Whether from familiarity or resignation, the Pope sighed briefly and said no more.
She likewise offered no further explanations as we walked.
After some time, a familiar face came into view standing before the sickroom.
A knight with blue hair and a steadfast demeanor. Out of armor, I almost didn't recognize him, but soon placed him—Kal Heron, the knight who'd accompanied Yurp during the subjugation expedition.
"Well now, it's been ages since I've seen this face."
"Ah, Your Holiness."
Kal's voice rose slightly in surprise at the Pope's greeting. Turning, he noticed Yurp and his eyes widened.
"Yurp... You're here too."
His hesitant demeanor felt oddly awkward for a strapping grown man.
After a brief silence, Yurp quietly approached him.
Kal grew visibly more fidgety, watching her uneasily. When she stopped before him, she spoke softly.
"Where have you been all this time?"
"Ah... Well, duties kept me busy."
"You weren't avoiding me, were you?"
"That's not exactly the case..."
Though he denied it, his trembling pupils seemed to betray his true feelings.
Unable to grasp the situation, I quietly observed when a voice echoed in my mind.
[Looks like a lovers' quarrel, doesn't it?]
'Yurp?'
[Well, what else could it be?]
Silpi had materialized beside me at some point, watching with an oddly sinister expression—one that felt strangely unfamiliar on Abel's face.
I could hardly imagine him making such a face. Noticing my gaze, Silpi chuckled dryly and continued.
[Just kidding. Actually...]
He abruptly cut himself off.
Frowning sharply, as if sensing something off, Silpi hesitated before folding his arms and glaring at Kal.
'Is something wrong?'
[Not entirely sure, but...]
His voice trailed off uncertainly, suspicion lacing his words. Though he spoke cautiously, as if unable to confirm—
[...Remember the ceremony?]
'How could I forget?'
No, it would be stranger if I didn't remember.
The first time I became a Saintess, met the Goddess, the raid on the conference hall—everything had spiraled into utter chaos. There was no way I could forget that. Silpi narrowed his eyes and continued.
[That black bastard who ambushed us back then—this smells similar.]
'The Pope?'
[Yeah. That guy.]
Grind.
Silpi gnashed his teeth, biting his nails. That unidentified man who had wielded Sally's power—
No, his voice had been so unnaturally distorted that I couldn't even tell if they were male or female.
The only certainties were that they had used the power of Sally, the Fire Spirit, and that they were strong enough to escape immediately.
[Contractor, take a closer look at that man's eyes.]
'Closer?'
[Yeah. Use that sense of yours.]
Following Silpi's words, I sharpened my senses. As a Spiritualist, I focused my power into my vision.
Pushing back the Holy Power that tried to interfere, I fixed my gaze on Kal.
Soon, I saw it—black energy coiled around him like a shroud.
'Wow, that's intense.'
A thick black fog, spreading outward from Kal's eyes, permeated the air. It was so dense that it was strange I hadn't noticed it before.
Turning my head, I saw the Pope narrowing his eyes as well.
'...So that's what you meant by "similar"?'
[Yeah. A clue just rolled right to us.]
His voice trembled slightly—uncharacteristically emotional for Silpi. It seemed Sally was weighing heavily on his mind.
Despite their cat-and-dog relationship, they clearly cared for each other in their own way.
"Then why haven't you been in touch lately?"
"The mission I'm on right now is... pretty demanding. I've been swamped."
As Yurp pressed him, Kal evaded with vague excuses.
On the surface, nothing seemed amiss, but to my eyes—
'...It moves every time he answers.'
The fog writhed like a living thing, pulsing as if exhaling with every word he spoke. It was unsettling.
[Could be a form of mental interference.]
'What a headache.'
Even Abel had once said that mind-affecting magic was the most troublesome kind.
Though it was odd for him to call high-circle magic "annoying"—
But then again, Abel was an Archmage. For ordinary people, mental magic was something they wouldn't even realize they were under until it was too late.
'Can we dispel it?'
[...No. The caster's skill is higher than expected.]
'How high?'
[At least Court Mage level.]
My expression twisted involuntarily at the mention of a Court Mage. Even if not quite Archmage-tier, that was still dangerously close.
After a few more exchanges, Yurp finally let out a deep sigh.
"We'll talk later."
"Y-Yeah."
She hesitated briefly before ending the conversation there. It seemed she'd decided pushing further wouldn't resolve anything.
The Pope, who had been silently observing, cleared his throat and addressed Kal.
"So, what brings you here?"
"Ah, actually, there's something urgent I need to report—"
As he spoke, the black fog pulsed rapidly, like a heartbeat. Just looking at it sent a chill down my spine.
Silpi was also glaring at Kal, eyes narrowed to slits.
The Pope inhaled deeply, as if carefully choosing his words, before responding.
"...I see. Let's hear it another time."
"Huh? But—"
"Another time."
"...Understood."
With that, Kal turned and left. Watching his retreating figure, Yurp's expression darkened.
"...Was I too harsh on him?"
"No. That's not the issue here."
At the very least, the man before us was not normal.