The Saintess and the Spy
The thick cloud of dust that had risen from the ground scattered helplessly at a single wave of Isabelle's hand.
“This is all because of you.”
Isabelle’s eyes, fixed on Ludwig, had turned a deep, furious red at the edges.
“Because of you… I killed Kyle.”
The situation was spiraling out of control. Isabelle laughed through a face twisted beyond recognition. The moment Ludwig met her pitch-black, dead eyes, strength drained from his legs and he collapsed to the floor.
“Ugh… aaah…”
The metallic stench of blood hung thick in the air. Pressure surged behind his eyes, threatening to burst them from their sockets, while a piercing ringing in his ears—perhaps from ruptured eardrums—echoed through his skull. Ludwig’s eyes flooded with pure terror.
Trained as a spy for the Republic since childhood, he had never encountered violence on this scale. Isabelle’s gaze burned with murderous intent strong enough to tear him apart. If looks could kill, her stare would have already pierced straight through his heart.
“Why did you do it?”
Had she discovered he was a spy from the Republic? No, that was impossible. It couldn’t be. There was no way.
“I asked you why.”
Then why? Why was Isabelle directing such raw, sticky killing intent toward him?
“I’m waiting for an answer.”
Holy power writhed around Isabelle’s right hand. The will of the world, encompassing all creation, bloomed at her fingertips. Like ink dropped onto still water, the space around them began to bleach pure white.
Faced with this extreme cognitive dissonance unfolding before his eyes, Ludwig let out a despairing groan. At this rate, he would undoubtedly die. A sharp warning screamed inside his head.
That was when it happened.
“Ludwig?”
From a distance, a priest who had spotted him tilted his head in confusion. Ah, I’m saved. The thought had barely formed when Ludwig looked up—only to lock eyes with Isabelle, who now stood right in front of him.
A ferocious light flared in Isabelle’s eyes as she stared down at him.
Fuck.
The moment Ludwig muttered blankly—
THUD—!!
Once again, a heavy impact rang through the air.
Ludwig has died.
News of Ludwig’s death sent the Holy See into an uproar.
“I believe an explanation is in order.”
The Pope glared at Isabelle. Priests, bishops, and even imperial knights surrounding them all stared at her with the same condemning eyes one might direct at a heinous criminal.
“No matter how great the Ustia family’s influence may be, this is clearly a threat against divine authority. There must be a proper justification for your actions, Lady Isabelle.”
The Pope’s voice was icy cold. Yet Isabelle’s face showed not the slightest tremor.
“I only delivered punishment because there was proper justification.”
“Do you truly believe this situation is one where jokes are appropriate?”
“It seems my words sounded like a joke to you.”
“If this is not a joke, may I interpret your actions as a declaration of war from the Empire?”
The faces of the imperial knights who had been watching turned deathly pale. But Isabelle simply let out a soft laugh, unconcerned.
“Do as you wish. But are you sure that’s wise?”
“What do you mean?”
“The Black Fog.”
The ominous name fell like a cascade. Isabelle narrowed her eyes in mock playfulness.
“You cannot purify it, can you?”
The Pope let out a hollow laugh—haha—before abruptly stopping. His face hardened, revealing clear hostility.
“Are you certain?”
When the Pope demanded proof, Isabelle raised her index finger and pointed at the sky.
“Divine Mandate.”
“…Divine Mandate?”
“Yes. I have received a Divine Mandate.”
Divine Mandate. The direct command of God. It was fundamentally different from an oracle, which merely conveyed divine will through a human medium. A Divine Mandate was one of the most powerful means by which a god bound by causality could intervene in the fate of the mortal world.
In other words—
“……A saintess.”
An apostle of God. There was no other explanation. The ability to purify the Black Fog. When he first heard it, he could hardly believe it. No one in the Holy See had ever succeeded in purifying the Black Fog. Not even the Pope himself.
It was publicly known that only the Pope could purify the Black Fog, but that too was a lie. It was merely a tacit agreement between the Holy See and the imperial family, born from fear that divine authority might crumble.
However, the data sent from the imperial family was irrefutable. The image was still vivid—the Black Fog that had been collected and stored for research purposes melting away like snow at the divine miracle blooming from her fingertips.
If this truly was the second coming of a saintess…
Not only could she restore divine authority, but it might even be possible to reestablish a true Holy Empire upon this land.
The Pope’s pupils rippled like waves. He needed more evidence. Clearer proof that she was the saintess…
“I can see the future.”
The Pope’s eyes widened.
“……Please elaborate.”
“In one week, the full-scale erosion of the Black Fog will begin. Starting with the eastern territories under the Holy See’s jurisdiction, monsters will flood the land and plagues will descend.”
“There have been no signs or omens suggesting the start of such erosion.”
“Sigh. Didn’t I just tell you? I can see the future.”
Isabelle let out a short sigh and continued.
“The erosion of the east is only the beginning. After the east, the northern and western territories will fall into emergency one after another. The south will remain quiet for the time being.”
“……”
“The Empire will fall into chaos at the birth of this catastrophe. And when deep fear takes root in the hearts of countless people, the Holy See will step forward—demonstrating the divine miracle capable of purifying the Black Fog.”
“Hah… haha…”
“Terrified masses will flock to the temples, and astronomical donations will pour in without a single day’s rest. The entire empire will be bound under one faith, and that bond will be unbreakable.”
It was utterly absurd. Yet Isabelle was the sole daughter of the Ustia county. There was no reason for her to risk her life on a truth that would be revealed in just a few days.
A spark of anticipation rose in the Pope’s chest. Uncontainable greed glittered in his eyes. He swallowed hard and glanced around. Eight people in total, including himself and Isabelle. Far too many ears.
The Pope swallowed his hesitation and spoke.
“……You must remain here for the time being.”
“Very well. That was my intention anyway.”
“Thank you for your understanding.”
“However, I have one condition.”
Isabelle smiled brightly. Then she slowly opened her lips.
“I need Holy Dissolution Reagent.”
“Holy Dissolution Reagent?”
“Yes. Once my words are proven true, hand the Holy Dissolution Reagent over to me.”
“For what purpose do you require the Holy Dissolution Reagent?”
“Who knows? Perhaps that too is God’s will?”
The Pope tilted his head, then smiled gently.
“I swear it. If the return of the saintess is confirmed, something like the Holy Dissolution Reagent is a small price.”
“How refreshing.”
A deeper smile spread across Isabelle’s lips. Thinking that she had taken one more step closer to Kyle, dark emotions writhed inside her.
Isabelle slowly rose from her seat. At that moment, one forgotten detail struck her.
“Ah, and one more thing.”
Isabelle stared directly into the Pope’s eyes.
“Investigate Ludwig.”
“Hm?”
“You incompetents may not have known, but Ludwig was a spy from the Republic. Investigate him thoroughly and punish everyone connected to him without mercy.”
Isabelle added one final remark.
“As God wills it.”
Investigate Ludwig and all who conspired with him. Punish them without exception.
*****
Glug glug—
The Empress slowly poured herbal tea into an empty cup. At that moment, a familiar maid’s voice rang from beyond the door.
“Your Majesty, Duke Belger Winfred of Winfred requests an audience.”
“Let him in.”
Creak—
Duke Belger Winfred entered through the gap in the open door with precise, disciplined steps. He was the very picture of an upright noble, not a single strand out of place.
The Empress opened her mouth with a indifferent expression.
“Everyone except Belger Winfred is dismissed.”
At her single command, the waiting maids bowed and left the room. In the now-empty reception hall, only the Empress and the Duke remained.
“I greet the Sun of the Empire.”
“Enough with the greetings. You must be tired from your piled-up duties. I apologize for calling you here. Sit down.”
The Duke sat with his usual stoic face. The Empress waved her hand graciously, offering him tea.
“…”
“…”
A suffocating silence settled. In the frozen reception room, only the irregular clink of teacups echoed.
How many minutes had passed? The Empress, who had been watching the Duke, finally spoke in a low voice.
“You must be curious about the reason I summoned you.”
The Duke remained silent. The Empress continued in a gentle tone.
“Kyle Winfred.”
At the familiar name, the Duke’s brow furrowed slightly as he held his teacup.
“You must have heard the rumors. That the boy has grown unusually close to the Princess lately.”
“This humble one is too dull to understand what Your Majesty means.”
Clear displeasure showed on the Duke’s face. The Empress tapped the side table twice with her fingertips—one of her habits when testing others.
“Would you like to hear a story?”
At the Empress’s suggestion, the Duke slowly nodded. A strange curiosity flickered across his expression.
The Empress continued in a soft voice.
“There once was a girl. She was more intelligent than anyone, more affectionate than anyone, and more humble than anyone. And that wasn’t all. Her beauty was as if crafted by the gods themselves—like an angel descended from heaven.”
“……”
“Rudine Eckhart. Though born a woman, her temperament, presence, and innate talent surpassed any man in the imperial family.”
“Truly the glory of the imperial family.”
“Though she is my child born of love, the potential that blossomed more with each passing day was wondrous, as if she had received every blessing from the gods. She was truly a child worthy of being the Sun of the Empire.”
The Duke listened silently to the Empress’s words. She continued in a subdued voice.
“And then one day, that child began to change.”
“…”
“She became bold and cunning. Her methods grew so cruel that she began ruthlessly removing anyone who stood in her path.”
When the Empress slightly lowered her head, her signature silver hair—characteristic of the imperial family—flowed softly. Between the strands, her eyes gleamed with a sinister light.
“Yes… as if she had become an entirely different person.”
The temperature in the reception room began to drop rapidly.
“Your son, Kyle Winfred.”
“…”
“From some point onward, she began to show an unusual obsession with him. So I watched. What exactly did she see in Kyle Winfred that made that cunning child display such near-mad obsession?”
All expression vanished from the Duke’s face. The Empress continued with a smile still on her lips.
“And then I met her. A commoner woman who claimed to be Kyle Winfred’s biological mother.”
A sharp current sparked between their locked gazes. The Empress laughed brightly. Then her face turned serious.
“Kyle Winfred.”
Her lips twisted ominously.
“He is not your son.”