Holy Kingdom (8)

"Unnie Id, is this your first time visiting the Holy Kingdom?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"Do you happen to know any famous places in the Holy Kingdom?"

"Not really. Yurp, do you know any?"

"Hehe, of course I know plenty—I'm a native of the Holy Kingdom!"

At my question, Yurp thumped her chest and answered in a confident voice.

For some reason, her demeanor seemed so childlike that I couldn't help but chuckle.

Though, considering her age, she really was just a kid. From what I'd heard from Kal, she was probably around fifteen.

By this world's standards, she might be considered an adult.

But to my eyes, having lived in modern times, she just looked like a little chick toddling around.

"There's the Parterre Temple where you can hear the Goddess's oracle, and there's also a beach that people say is worth visiting at least once!"

"A beach?"

"Yes! It's probably one of the few tourist spots in the Holy Kingdom!"

A beach in a holy nation. The image didn't quite match, and my head tilted slightly in confusion.

Come to think of it, the Holy Kingdom's location bordered the ocean quite a bit.

But since it was situated more toward the north, I couldn't help but wonder if there really was a proper beach there.

After that, Yurp kept chattering away as we walked, engaging in casual conversation.

Abel walked quietly beside me, listening to our exchange.

Unlike usual, he seemed much quieter—perhaps he had something on his mind. But his poker face gave nothing away.

We hadn't walked far before Yurp's footsteps came to a halt, signaling we'd reached our destination. Following her lead, I stopped and saw a dome-like structure come into view.

From inside, the murmur of voices could be heard.

Even from the outside, it was clear the building was buzzing with some kind of commotion.

Whether she noticed or not, Yurp turned around and beamed at us with a bright face.

"This is it! The place where His Holiness the Pope is waiting!"

With an excited voice, she pointed at the building standing before her.

At the sound of her voice echoing in all directions, the murmuring from inside gradually began to die down.

'This place...'

Following Yurp's guidance, Abel and I stepped inside the building.

The interior resembled a grand assembly hall. Like a colosseum, rows of seats encircled a central plaza.

In those seats sat people dressed in various priestly robes. At a glance, there didn't seem to be much difference in the types of robes.

At most, some had a few extra crosses pinned to their chests.

'Is that how they distinguish rank?'

I turned my head, scanning the surroundings again.

Unlike a proper colosseum, which was perfectly circular, this place was oval-shaped.

Among the oval rows of seats, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠one throne stood out conspicuously.

No—it was too crude in design to be called a throne.

The material wasn't gold or silk but plain marble.

Upon it sat an old man, his lips curled in a faint chuckle as he looked down at us.

'...That's the Pope.'

A beard so long it draped down to his chest, deep wrinkles lining his face. White hair cascading past his shoulders and thick eyebrows framing eyes that seemed to gleam sharply.

Just like the first time I'd seen him, his presence remained striking and unforgettable.

Around him stood rows of holy knights clad in silver armor.

Though the weapons they held varied—spears, maces, swords, hammers—the sharp aura they exuded was no less formidable than any elite military force of a nation.

Beside the Pope stood a familiar face.

White hair, black eyes, a scar across the bridge of his nose. The Guardian of the Holy Kingdom—Ka-il.

'Seeing him again, he looks even stronger.'

As we walked toward the center of the assembly hall, the murmurs grew louder.

Following what Silpi had taught me before, I spread my senses like the wind, catching snippets of conversation.

"Those are the Holy Kingdom's heroes?"

"Ha, who would've thought the day would come when Imperial scum would be called heroes."

"Hey, watch your tongue. His Holiness might hear you!"

The man flinched and lowered his voice, whispering urgently. Another man snorted and raised his voice instead.

"Let him hear. Do you even believe the nonsense about Imperial dogs rescuing a Saintess Candidate?"

"Well... but still..."

I suppressed a sigh that threatened to rise to my throat.

It wasn't like I'd expected a warm reception anyway, so it didn't matter much.

Still, hearing the gossip firsthand left a bitter taste. Such was human nature, I supposed.

Given that the Arieh Empire and the Numen Holy Kingdom weren't exactly on friendly terms, this reaction was probably inevitable.

Even during the subjugation expedition, the Holy Kingdom had only cooperated with the Black Crow Knights, drawing a clear line against the Empire.

There was nothing more to glean from them, so I tuned my ears to other conversations.

"Truly, the prophecy unfolds."

"Do you genuinely believe in that prophecy? The one that keeps babbling about our doom?"

"Are you doubting the Oracle bestowed by the Goddess?"

"To be honest, yes. It's absurd enough to claim we'll face ruin, but to say that such a woman will become the Saintess? That's even harder to swallow."

...Such a woman?

That remark was undoubtedly directed at me. But me, becoming the Saintess?

The prophecy Byzantine had revealed contained no such detail.

Which meant she hadn't shared the full prophecy.

Why?

The more I thought about it, the more Byzantine's enigmatic nature gnawed at me. Even her conspicuously black priestly robes had begun to unsettle me.

"That only proves your lack of faith."

"Ha. Fine. Think what you will."

Their exchange ended in mutual sarcasm. I would've liked to eavesdrop further, but time was running short.

Before I knew it, Abel and I had been ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠guided by Yurp to the center of the Assembly Hall.

Yet the murmurs still clawed at my ears.

Even without actively amplifying the wind, the voices slipped in as though whispering directly into my skull.

At that moment, the Pope rose from his seat and lifted the staff resting beside him.

Then, he struck the ground with it.

Once. Twice. Thrice. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

A resonant hum pulsed outward, silencing the crowd as though they'd made a pact. The earlier clamor vanished, leaving only suffocating stillness in its wake.

The Pope exhaled deeply and stepped forward.

The frail footsteps of an old man reverberated through the space, filling it entirely. Was this the charisma of one who had ascended to the papal throne?

"To chatter so freely before honored guests—what discourtesy is this?"

No one dared refute his reprimand. After all, they had been gossiping about Abel and me.

"My apologies. Allow this old man to atone on their behalf."

"We accept your apology."

As Abel spoke, the Pope offered a faint smile before descending from the altar.

Holy Power unfurled, shaping itself into steps beneath his feet.

Standing atop them, he began his descent—smooth, almost like riding an escalator.

To manipulate Holy Power with such precision... No wonder he held the papal seat.

While I marveled, he reached the floor, leaning on his staff as he approached us.

His hunched back straightened slightly, and he stroked his long, flowing beard before stopping before us.

"Hmm, it has been a while. Duke... and Spirit Knight."

"It has been some time."

"O-oh, yes, it has."

Nervousness tangled my tongue. A sharp sting flared where I'd bitten it, and I fought the urge to wince.

Even in my past life, biting my tongue when tense had been a habit—one that inconveniently surfaced in public settings.

"No need to be so burdened. This gathering exists solely to honor your deeds."

He smiled kindly as he spoke.

Right. This was merely a ceremony to commend Abel and me for our contributions in the Subjugation Expedition. There was no reason to feel pressured, even with so many eyes upon us.

I steadied my breathing—

Then, a razor-sharp sensation blared like an alarm bell in my skull.

Huh?

A familiar feeling. The suffocating weight of death creeping up my throat. My regressor's intuition screamed of danger, frenzied and unrelenting.

At the same time, my heightened senses—synced with Silpi—detected a presence.

[Contractor!]

I flung my hand out on reflex.

A shadow clad in a black cloak materialized from thin air. A Black Fox Mask concealed its face, locking onto my vision.

My body froze under its chilling killing intent.

This was no ordinary assassin. Its aura dwarfed any I'd encountered before. The figure stretched its hand toward the Pope—and us.

Whoosh.

Flames erupted midair, surging toward the Pope. Yet his smile never wavered as he raised his own hand in response.

A golden shield manifested, blocking the fire.

"An uninvited guest. How unexpected."

"Flames, arise!"

...A spirit?

I sensed Spirit Power.

Tilting my head at the oddly familiar flames, I heard Silpi's bewildered voice slip into my mind.

[Sally?]

A storm of fire raged around us. The masked being hurled another blast, this time aimed at the Pope's arm.

[No... It can't be. Right?]

Silpi's voice trembled. Whether the masked figure recognized him or not, it merely flicked its fingers, launching another fiery assault.

Whoosh!

Stronger this time—yet still insufficient to breach the Pope's shield.

"Tch. Retreating. Sally!" ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Not so fast."

Kyle's sword slash tore through the air toward the mask—but flames erupted first, swallowing the figure whole.

"Tch. It got away."