Chapter 170
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 170
Chapter Title: Prayer in the Holy City
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“Ha... But if I release my power too strongly...”
“That level of authority won't imprint the existence of the Saintess on their minds. Not without a massive miracle—the kind that's practically the symbol of a Saintess. And that's one of the reasons the upper echelons of the Holy Kingdom want to take you down.”
An unstable Saintess.
It seemed there were a few who felt uneasy about that.
“Still, don't let it get you down. Those guys are just filthy scum looking for a healing slave to toy with at their whim.”
His subsequent plan was straightforward.
In the heart of the Holy Kingdom's capital, before the statue blessed by divine grace, she would offer her prayer.
And in response to that prayer, an angel would descend.
He would show it to the masses right there in front of everyone.
A simple yet perilously risky plan.
Offering a prolonged prayer smack in the middle of enemy territory.
“No angel will descend for a heretic. In other words, the charges against you, Saintess, become a baseless accusation... And timed perfectly, I'll rally the forces loyal to me and publicly declare your innocence on the spot.”
In the process, he'd turn the tables, branding those who sought to strike you down as heretics themselves.
It was indeed the best way to affirm the Saintess's existence.
That was when it happened.
“Um... Everything sounds good, but a ritual to summon an angel? I thought that was just a legend. I've heard there are no recorded successes.”
As she said, if it had ever succeeded, history books would be full of tales about angelic descents.
But no such records existed.
“It won't be easy for me to perform the ritual either... but if it fails, will it even mean anything?”
Seeing Nadia's dejected expression, Diablo calmly laid out the facts.
“Don't worry. The Holy Kingdom has poured immense effort into staging such events over the ages. We can mimic it perfectly.”
Was that really something coming from a High Priest of the Holy Kingdom?
A hollow laugh escaped her lips, but the plan was undeniably effective.
Suddenly, she felt his gaze shift toward Luna.
The Holy Kingdom lay to the southwest of the Pascalia Empire, its capital known as Rapel.
A pristine, sacred city teeming with countless faithful.
Ask the children there what they want to be when they grow up, and the top answer was 'priest'—a testament to how deeply intertwined the church was with everyday life.
Rapel had long maintained a massive holy magic formation, said to crush any impure soul under its power.
Of course, no one knew exactly what qualified as 'impure'—but seeing someone like Baril wandering freely suggested it wasn't foolproof.
Operation name: Witch's Stigmata.
Knowing that dragging things out wouldn't help, they moved swiftly.
Instead of just hiding her, they were striking back aggressively.
A little time had passed since the plan was set. Diablo's side needed to muster personnel and resources, after all.
Now, Luna, I, and the Saintess had arrived in the Holy Kingdom's capital, Rapel.
Entering the capital proved easier than expected.
Thanks to Diablo's unexpected competence.
Once inside without issue, contrary to my assumptions, the citizens didn't look cheerful.
It wasn't exhaustion from hard lives—they seemed physically unwell.
Was some epidemic going around?
Overwhelmed by the weight of everything hinging on her actions, Saintess Nadia gripped her trembling arm tightly with her other hand.
Currently, she wore a thick, moderately worn robe that made it impossible for anyone to peg her as the Saintess.
Especially since the robe concealed the holy power she subtly emanated.
What she aimed to do now was the prayer of descent.
Truth be told, even scouring history books yielded no records of success, so if she pulled it off, the repercussions would be massive.
My role was to ensure no one entered within a certain radius of her while she prayed.
This was the heart of enemy territory.
Holy Knights under the Holy Kingdom's command, divine magic legions, Sword Master-level powerhouses, hordes of inquisitors...
The likelihood of elites swarming in on upper-echelon orders was sky-high.
No, it was practically guaranteed.
Of course, Diablo promised to surround her with Holy Knights under his command, plus priests and inquisitors swayed by her influence.
But they alone couldn't hold off the Holy Kingdom's top brass.
That job would fall to me.
In the end, my role was nearly as crucial as the Saintess's, but I accepted it readily.
Naturally, Melissa had opposed the plan most vehemently.
The moment she heard my part, she flew into a rage, ready to devour Diablo whole.
But in the end, she couldn't argue against my insistence.
Instead, with reddened eyes, she grumbled that after this, I'd be confined to the mansion for at least a month.
Me constantly courting danger must have triggered her trauma—it looked that precarious to her.
To avoid disturbing Saintess Nadia as she quietly recited her prayer in anticipation of the operation's start, I stepped back a few paces and methodically circulated the death spirit mana, elemental mana, and auras within me, checking each one.
“Luna.”
Suddenly, an amusing thought struck me, and I called out to her.
Luna, who had been blankly gazing at the sky, turned to me with half-lidded eyes, not making a sound.
She looked oddly out of sorts.
“Leon, you know that, right?”
She spoke in a slow, subdued voice.
Her intensely serious expression made me meet her gaze with a stiffened face.
This was the Holy Kingdom. She was an angel, but a fallen one.
An angel harboring resentment toward God.
This place couldn't possibly feel welcoming to her.
Soon, she pulled something from her bosom.
Street food.
“This is tasty.”
“...”
Her half-lidded eyes and faint dark circles had lent her a melancholic air, but it melted away into something effortlessly comfortable in no time.
Yeah, eat up. You look good like that.
Her nonchalance chased away my tension entirely.
Soon, a signal chimed from the artifact—preparations complete.
“Lady Nadia, it's about time to begin.”
She startled at my words and turned to me.
Her face etched with tension, I offered some gentle reassurance.
“Relax. Nothing will go wrong.”
“Thank you for your help.”
“How long will the prayer take?”
“The scriptures say that after two days of sincere prayer by a pilgrim on their journey, an angel descended. Of course, it's not a real historical record, but the ritual follows that spirit and lasts two days.”
In truth, no angel would descend. No Saintess had ever succeeded.
But this staging alone would suffice to prove her legitimacy to the public.
“Two days won't be easy.”
“I'm sorry. I'll be putting you through a lot.”
“No, it's you I'm worried about.”
Her eyes widened at my words, then she smiled shyly.
“Hee hee. Are you concerned for me?”
Two days. Without exceptional stamina, it'd be grueling.
Even kneeling for a few hours numbs the legs—two full days?
At nineteen, it was bound to be taxing for a young woman.
Though the protection of her holy power made it far more bearable than going bare.
“It'll all work out. True or not, you're a real Saintess with the stigmata—you're not deceiving anyone.”
What was wrong with a Saintess declaring herself one?
Seeming relieved by my words, she smiled faintly.
“If possible, I'd prefer minimal bloodshed. The forces coming on orders are probably mostly clueless folks.”
“I'll assess and decide.”
The perfect answer from a Saintess, but zero points in the heat of battle.
But it didn't matter.
She knew that too, so it was just her personal opinion.
Finally, joining the priestly procession, she shed her robe, revealing her pristine Saintess garb.
She then knelt on one knee before the approaching Diablo and bowed her head.
In response, Diablo solemnly placed the Saintess's coronet atop her head with care.
“Stand tall, Saintess. One with the stigmata must proclaim their path with unmatched boldness.”
“I will remember that.”
As she rose slowly after his words, Diablo knelt and brushed the faint dust from her knees.
“Let us go.”
With that, a column of Holy Knights and priests in two ranks parted the crowd and advanced toward the statue.
Nearby citizens turned in confusion at the sudden spectacle, then gasped in shock upon recognizing the Saintess.
“Witch... It's the witch...”
“A heretic...”
Some caught on to her identity and began murmuring.
Her branding as a heretic had spread farther than expected.
In an atmosphere where stones could fly at any moment, the Holy Knights drew their swords in unison, encircling her protectively.
“Why are you protecting the witch?!”
“Drag out the witch!!”
“The capital's plague is the heretic's curse!!”
Though she had trembled from tension moments ago, she now advanced without a flicker of hesitation, kneeling before the statue and clasping her hands.
A strange energy stirred around her entire body, white orbs of light enveloping her.
This wasn't mere staging—it was within her power to manifest.
“The Saintess offers the prayer of angelic descent. All of you, stand back.”
Diablo's proclamation from the front amplified the crowd's murmurs.
I didn't need to intervene yet.
The Holy Knights there were enough to hold back the throng.
Hiss...
I drew a short breath and mobilized every strand of elemental mana in my body.
In this place thick with holy power density, mana flow was disrupted, but I overwhelmed it with greater mana, auras, and exquisitely precise technique.
I could already sense presences grasping the situation and mobilizing.
Their number was under fifty for now, but reinforcements from all quarters would converge on command.