Chapter 113
Chapter 113
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 113
Chapter Title: The Demon King's Legacies #4
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Marmar spoke up.
She said she had seen someone wearing clothes similar to the ones I had on.
But I didn't think much of it. Mage robes were a dime a dozen in this ark.
Mages couldn't wear thick armor and the like because they needed to sense the mana in the air and meditate to attune themselves to the outside world, so they all wore robes.
And among them, skilled or wealthy mages commonly donned robes that weren't ordinary but enchanted with spells.
「Angmar Robe: High-grade relic. Protects the wearer from flames, magic, and curses. Its effects are further enhanced according to the wearer's circle. A masterpiece embodying Solomon's philosophy of attire.」
This Angmar robe of mine was just like that.
Though I didn't think there were many things more valuable than mine, given the description as a work by Solomon.
Marmar spoke.
“It was a really mysterious outfit. It gave off this strange mana vibe similar to yours, comrade—. Of course, the color was pitch black.”
“Is that true?”
“Yeah! I thought, wow, that person's wearing something incredible.”
This outfit was a reward I'd obtained from the Angmar ruins.
Of course, Solomon—back when he was still a prince—had left ruins all over the world from his wanderings, so it wouldn't be strange if someone else had picked up the same item somewhere else.
Still, just in case, I asked Marmar who the man was.
Marmar went, “Hmm—” and pondered for a bit before shrugging.
“Dunno!”
“I see.”
“'Cause he didn't tell me his name! He was this mysterious guy hanging out with other mysterious people.”
“Mysterious people?”
“Yeah! It was those people who killed the caretaker!”
Ah, got it.
Marmar must have run into the hunter party.
Thinking back on it now, when Lady Karira and I had encountered them, Marmar had been wrapped up tight in spiderwebs and hadn't been able to see their faces.
“Did you talk to them?”
“Nope, they were scary.”
“Yeah, avoid getting close if you can.”
“Got it. Anyway, I've been busy.”
That wrapped up my conversation with Marmar.
She offered for me to stay for lunch, but I had to attend a luncheon meeting with the saintess and Aira, so I regretfully put it off for another time.
Two massive episode bosses meeting up for a chat.
From my personal standpoint, it piqued my interest immensely, but as someone who had to manage variables in a situation where anything could happen, it was giving me a bit of indigestion.
I hoped nothing would go wrong.
But on the other hand, the saintess held the keys to quite a few secrets I needed.
I ran some simulations in my head on how to draw out the information I wanted from her as smoothly as possible.
* * *
“Theo, do you know what time the appointment is?”
“Noon on the dot, in the Hall of Light at the Grand Temple. If we head out now, you'll arrive just in time.”
There was still some leeway.
Even as I said that, I felt a twinge of impatience. Aira showed no signs of leaving her room.
As usual, she was staring back and forth at her various black stockings, agonizing over which one to pick.
“I have no idea which one would suit my station.”
“No matter what you wear, could it possibly dim Lady Aira's radiance?”
They all looked like the same color to me anyway—just pick one. More or less conveying that, I urged Aira along.
But whether Aira failed to grasp the refined nuance of my phrasing or not, she remained lost in her deliberations.
“Hmm—. Even so, I can't very well go lightly attired to meet the beacon of the Church.”
“The beacon of the Church?”
“Indeed, Priga Nightingale. Even someone like me should show a modicum of respect when going to meet her, don't you think?”
My impatience lasted only a moment. Then came words from Aira that I could scarcely believe.
Aira—who was utterly impervious no matter who she faced—was steeling herself to observe decorum. As I sat there baffled, Aira let out a long, “Hmng—.”
“Theo, it seems your knowledge has some gaps.”
“…….”
She raised her index and middle fingers, holding the stocking aloft.
“In the history of the Church, after Reverse Cross-Patros who laid the foundation stone of the Grand Temple, the Church produced many talents. Plenty of fakes, of course, but two stand head and shoulders above the rest.”
“And one of them is the Saintess Priga?”
“Correct. That slave girl with no noble blood or title didn't earn the grand moniker of saintess for nothing.”
A slave girl, huh.
Indeed, Saintess Priga played a pivotal role in driving the latter half of the story in the novel *Villain Hunter*.
That was why tantalizing details about her had been sprinkled for the readers around that point. Her backstory as a former slave had come to light then too.
“Very well, that's the one. Hurry and put it on me.”
At Aira's urging, I slid the chosen stockings up her leg with practiced ease, from her smooth sole all the way to her thigh.
The elastic fabric clung snugly to her skin with a satisfying *snap*, and Aira seemed to enjoy the sensation quite a bit. She patted my head and praised me.
“Good job.”
She didn't forget to offer some advice, either.
“When you meet the saintess, mind your words and actions.”
“Understood.”
“No, Theo. You don't get it. She's fake in certain ways, but the realest of the fakes. Best not to show any openings.”
Aira tended to spout a lot of airy nonsense. But every now and then, she'd display a razor-sharp insight that caught me off guard.
I couldn't help but think this might be one of those times. If she was issuing a warning, it was wise to heed it.
And so, we headed to the Grand Temple, where Saintess Priga might already be waiting for us.
The beautiful garden of the sun-drenched Grand Temple was already thronged with people waiting to receive us.
An elderly archbishop with a white beard and glasses bowed toward us.
“Your Majesty the Queen, the Saintess awaits. Please, allow us to escort you inside.”
We followed the crowd of people into the Grand Temple.
I'd felt this before, but for a church that prized humility and modesty as virtues, wasn't the opulence and grandeur a bit much?
Of course, this place was originally fated to be thoroughly wrecked as the hunter party's boss raid site. And that boss was none other than the despair-corrupted Saintess Priga.
Thinking about it that way left me with a strangely complex feeling.
*Clunk, creeeak.*
The priests opened the ornate doors painted white and inlaid with gold like mother-of-pearl.
The Hall of Light—reserved for the Church's uppermost echelons when receiving guests—came into view. At its center gleamed a table of radiant crystal, and seated modestly beyond it was a woman.
She wore a black veil over her head. A black eyepatch covered her eyes, and beneath it clung a form-fitting black nun's habit.
It was an outfit of severe austerity and chastity, yet the feminine curves it accentuated—or perhaps the pink locks of hair spilling out from under the veil—lent it an intensely alluring air.
Her age was impossible to pinpoint thanks to the veil and eyepatch, but she exuded an aura that proclaimed her beauty from every inch of her being.
This was Priga Nightingale.
The saintess—the spiritual pillar hailed as the beacon of the Church.
“You're earlier than expected.”
Priga rose from her seat and gave Aira a light bow. Aira took the seat across from her at the table and replied casually.
“I have a capable retainer.”
No honorifics for the saintess. It was so very Aira that it almost put me at ease.
With that, the saintess and the queen took their seats at the central table. At that moment, the saintess raised a hand toward those around them.
“Could everyone but us please withdraw?”
*Clank, clunk.*
The temple knights in full armor made a racket. Their heavy plate trembled with dismay.
Someone spoke from beneath a silver faceguard.
“Saintess, if I may be so bold—protecting you is our duty and our calling.”
“It's fine. It won't drag on. Please leave. You can even clock out for the day.”
The knights seemed to glance at one another beneath their helmets. Finally, they bowed as if with no other choice.
“If those are the Saintess's orders….”
They began filing out one by one, and as they did, I could clearly hear their hushed murmurs.
—Heh, early dismissal.
—Wanna go play dual chess?
—That lady just now—was that Queen Aira? First time seeing someone not outshone in front of the Saintess.
—Shame, could've watched longer.
Not exactly earth-shattering stuff.
As I was appreciating the knights' very human side, Aira leaned back against the plush headrest and tossed out a line.
“I don't bite.”
She was probably saying it with me in mind. The saintess turned her head toward me. Well, “turned toward” isn't quite right.
Because officially, the saintess was blind in both eyes.
Yet I could tell that the darkness beneath her black eyepatch was staring straight at me more intently than anyone else's gaze.
*Zing—.*
A chill crawled up my spine. When was the last time I'd felt this sensation?
As I mulled it over, Saintess Priga let out a leisurely chuckle.
“What an intriguing existence. A half-fairy, no less. Very well—I requested this audience. I'll accommodate the Queen's schedule. Shall we begin the meal?”
At the saintess's words, the closed doors opened, and nuns and priests entered carrying trays, piling the table high with dishes. Aira, however, paid them no mind and got straight to it.
“So, what's the reason you summoned me? Surely not just to treat me to a meal.”
The saintess, who had been moistening her lips with wine, set her glass down on the table with a *clink*. For a moment, an eerie chill seemed to envelop my surroundings.
They were exchanging words with all due decorum, but their encounter felt somehow ominous—intense in a way that made even Elga and Mirna's clashes seem tame by comparison.
At that moment, the saintess smiled.
“Indeed, I can't hold a candle to Lady Aira. Why drag things out when we're both busy? I'll get straight to the point.”
“Out with it.”
“I may die soon.”
“…….”
The abrupt turn caught Aira off guard, her brows furrowing in confusion. I was just as lost.
Saintess Priga dying soon? It was so direct that it was hard to keep up.
Of course, it wasn't entirely out of left field. She was an episode boss, after all.
But in the story, which had veered so far off the original rails, what reason could she possibly have to die? Before I could even wonder, Priga continued.
“Theo Gospel—that man—is going to kill me.”
“Theo Gospel—?”
Aira's gaze shifted to me.
Why are you looking at me?
I have no idea either.