Chapter 552: The Flex
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 552: The Flex
The Cathedral of Christ the Saviour.
It was Russia's largest church, said to have been built during the old imperial era.
It drew hundreds of thousands of visitors annually and boasted an interior vast enough to hold up to ten thousand people.
The whole reason I'd gone to the trouble of driving into downtown Moscow was to visit this very place.
“It’s even bigger than it looked in the photos.”
Gazing up from the bustling street, the cathedral's grandeur was enough to take one's breath away.
In short, it reeked of money.
‘But is it always this crowded? I read online that it wouldn't be this packed.’
The cathedral was known to have an average of 1,000 to 1,500 daily visitors, yet the crowd filling the surrounding streets looked to easily surpass ten thousand at a single glance.
‘Tsk. Just my luck.’
At this rate, I'd be lucky to even get inside, let alone buy any Holy Water.
After a moment of deliberation, I had no choice but to slip into a deserted alley, kick off the ground, and leap onto a nearby roof.
Then, with Perception-hindering magic active, I leaped toward the cathedral.
It was a fair distance, but not an impossible leap.
Careful not to land on anyone's head, I touched down near the cathedral, dispelled the magic, and immediately made my way inside.
But a man in pristine white vestments blocked my path.
“I’m sorry, but we are currently restricting entry to outside visitors for security reasons.”
“...What?”
The man delivered the shocking news with a pleasant smile.
It was only then I noticed that despite the massive crowd, not a single person was actually trying to get inside.
“Wait, all of a sudden?”
It went without saying, but the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour was open year-round.
Of course, on major religious holidays like Easter or Christmas, they would restrict entry for regular tourists to focus on services for the faithful, but today was just an ordinary weekday.
“I am truly sorry. We would love to welcome you, brother, especially after you've come all this way, but...”
The man’s expression was dripping with apology as his words trailed off. He cautiously glanced around.
Then, leaning in closer, he continued in a hushed whisper.
“...He paid a sudden visit, so our hands are tied.”
“He?”
At my question, he paused for a moment before adding in an even lower voice.
“...Igor-nim.”
“Ah.”
Igor Vladimirovich Krasov.
The man they called the president of Russia, but who was for all intents and purposes a dictator. A crazy old bastard.
Rumor had it he was a devout Christian, and it seemed those rumors were true.
That explained the unusually large crowd.
The president of a nation had shown up, drawing a swarm of curious onlookers. And since it was an unannounced visit, even the regular worshippers who had come for services had been unceremoniously pushed out onto the street.
‘Did he shove his age up his ass? He's causing a damn nuisance wherever he goes.’
My face scrunched up in a frown before I could stop it.
Normally, I wouldn't have cared, but I personally despised the man.
“I’m not a tourist, nor am I here to worship. I just came to buy some Holy Water. Is that still not allowed?”
“...Holy Water, you say?”
“Yes, I’ll buy the Holy Water and leave immediately.”
“...I’m sorry. However, if you come find me tomorrow, I can help you quick—”
“Still no, even with this?”
I showed the man an item I took from my pocket.
It was a ring stamped with the seal of a Tower Lord.
“Th-this is...?!!”
“I’m actually here on an errand for the White Tower Lord. Can’t you make an exception?”
“P-please wait just a moment!”
The man, unable to hide his flustered state, rushed into the cathedral.
I watched him go before leaning my body against the wall.
‘Man, having power is nice.’
About three minutes passed.
The young priest from before returned, accompanied by an old man who looked to be of quite high status.
The old man extended a hand toward me with a benevolent smile.
“May God’s blessing be with you. I am Makarius. I have the honor of holding the title of bishop.”
“I’m Kang Hyun-woo.”
“Kang Hyun-woo...?”
For a moment, a look of bewilderment flashed across the old man's face.
“...Could you be Baronet Lauderdale?”
“Hm? You know of me?”
“Haha... my, my. It seems we have not a simple guest, but a truly distinguished one.”
But the moment passed, and the old man stroked his beard, a smile mixed with various emotions on his face.
It was far from disgust or exclusion.
Rather, it was closer to feelings of gratitude and admiration.
“This humble old man has the privilege of meeting the hero of England. Though our paths of faith may differ, I express my deepest gratitude and respect for your great crusade against the heretics.”
The old man bowed respectfully.
Thanks to him, the gazes and attention of several hundred people began to focus on me.
For the record, I am not an attention seeker.
“...I appreciate your words, but there are many eyes on us. Could we perhaps move somewhere else first?”
“Ah, how thoughtless of me. Would you please follow me?”
I followed the bishop’s lead and walked into the cathedral.
As a result, a wave of complaints erupted from the people who had been barred from entry.
Protests echoed from all sides, questioning why only I was being let in and if this wasn't a form of discrimination.
My Russian wasn't good enough to catch the finer details, but it was clear the security guards were sweating bullets.
I could even hear my name being called out occasionally from the crowd, as it seemed quite a few people recognized me.
For what it's worth, the young priest and Bishop Makarius had been speaking English, likely assuming I was a tourist.
‘The inside is as gorgeous as the outside.’
I looked around the cathedral's interior, letting out a string of impressed sighs.
Of course, the building's splendor was to be expected.
The Cathedral of Christ the Saviour was built by Alexander I, an emperor of the Russian Empire and an S-rank hunter, to commemorate his clearing of an S-rank gate.
“This way.”
I followed Bishop Makarius into a reception room at the end of a hall.
Unable to bear the bishop's intense gaze, I took a seat on the sofa first. A nun, who must have been waiting, silently set out refreshments.
She was a classic Slavic beauty, so striking that my eyes were drawn to her against my will.
When our eyes met, the nun offered a faint smile.
Beyond her pupils lay the same admiration as Bishop Makarius, along with a profound respect whose depths I couldn't begin to fathom.
It was a little overwhelming, but at the same time, I felt that all the hellish effort I'd put into taking down those Belmoras bastards had been worth it.
“I heard you came to purchase Holy Water.”
“Hm? Ah, yes.”
“How much do you require? We happen to have a generous supply at the moment.”
“That’s a relief. What’s written here should be enough.”
I handed the bishop a note I had prepared in advance.
The bishop’s eyes widened in an instant, his expression hardening slightly.
“...Do you need this much?”
“Yes. I get hurt often, so I end up using a lot of it.”
“Well... it may sound strange coming from a bishop, but it would be more economical for you to use potions...”
“Potions taste awful.”
There was a reason why sales of Holy Water, which was several times more expensive than potions, continued to rise steadily each year despite the obvious alternative.
Once you experienced that unique taste—like your guts were rotting from the inside out—you couldn't easily bring yourself to drink a potion again.
“Are you perhaps short on stock?”
“No, that’s not it, but...”
Bishop Makarius trailed off, glancing at me worriedly.
“I can offer you a certain discount on my authority. But even with that, purchasing such a large quantity at once would be a considerable financial burd—”
Clack.
I took a silver card from my pocket and placed it on the table.
It was a credit card issued only to VIP clients by a major global bank famous for serving the British royal family.
Normally, acquiring one would involve a rather complicated process, but I had received assistance from Duke Winchester.
And that wasn't all.
He had also promised financial support, offering to cover up to one billion dollars in expenses annually.
On top of that, Duke of Rutland pledged another billion, and the British royal family promised an additional two billion.
In total, I was guaranteed four billion dollars a year, which amounted to about 5.2 trillion Korean Won.
“Charge it all at once. I don’t need the discount.”
It’s not my money anyway.
“H-how magnanimous of you...”
“I get that a lot.”
I took a sip of the black tea served by the nun with impressive dark brown hair and emerald eyes, then leaned back leisurely into the sofa.
“Milena? Please prepare the Holy Water according to the list... No, it would be better if I went myself. My presence as a bishop will make it much smoother to retrieve the high-grade Holy Water.”
Bishop Makarius rose from his seat with a gentle smile.
“Milena, would you mind keeping Baronet Lauderdale company while I’m gone? It should take about an hour. If the Baronet wishes, you could give him a tour of the cathedral.”
“Yes.”
Milena nodded at the bishop’s words.
“Thank you. Well then, Baronet, please excuse me for a moment.”
“I’m in no particular hurry, so please take your time.”
“Haha, I will.”
Creeak, thud—
Once the bishop left the reception room, only Milena and I remained.
A strange silence settled over the room, and the nervousness on her face was palpable.
“You’re Milena, right? Do you happen to speak English?”
“Yes. English is a required subject to become a nun, so I have learned the basics of conversation.”
For someone who said that, her pronunciation was native-level.
“That’s good. By the way, do you know who I am? This might sound conceited, but the way everyone I’ve met in the cathedral has looked at me feels a little... intense.”
It was true.
As if I were at a fan signing, the expressions of the clergy looking at me were all sparkling with an almost burdensome intensity.
“Of course, I do. In fact, there isn’t a single person within the Church who doesn’t know of Baronet Lauderdale. You are the hero who punished those abominable devil-worshippers. Some even have your picture as their phone’s wallpaper.”
“Are you one of them, Sister?”
Milena’s face flushed slightly at my teasing question.
“...It’s embarrassing to admit, but yes.”
“Haha, I’m honored. I just did what had to be done, that’s all.”
“No, that’s not true.”
In that moment, Milena’s expression turned serious. She closed the distance between us and suddenly sat down right next to me.
“The battle against the wicked heretics is a perilous task that even skilled paladins must risk their lives for. And yet you, Baronet, are not even a clergyman, not even a believer, but you still fought against the heretics’ leader and ultimately achieved a holy victory.”
A faint heat lingered in her eyes and voice as she looked at me.
“The Lord himself will surely bestow his blessing upon such a noble achievement.”
“...That’s a little embarrassing. But thank you. It makes me feel like my efforts were worthwhile.”
“No. As a believer, expressing my gratitude to you is only natural—”
“By the way.”
I added with a small laugh, whispering to Milena.
“Don’t you think we’re a little close?”
“...Ah.”
Perhaps she was the type to lose track of her surroundings when excited, because Milena was practically in my lap.
The realization of her own posture finally dawned on her, and her face turned beet red.
“I-I’m sorry...! I’ll get up right... Ah?!”
“Just a moment.”
I wrapped my arm around Milena’s waist as she tried to scramble to her feet.
“I think it would be nice to keep talking just like this. What do you think, Sister?”
“...”
Milena, still in my arms, quietly nodded.
And so, we had an enjoyable time until Bishop Makarius returned.