Chapter 270
Chapter 270
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 270
Chapter Title: Holy Levinte Empire (1)
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The emperor's death was not dramatic. The moment his flesh disintegrated was simply silent—no flashy remnants of mana, no noisy flapping of armored insect wings, no frantic movements.
*Sching.*
A chilling sound broke the silence. The friction of a blade sliding back into its sheath. Fernandez watched Zephys, who was crouched and sheathing his sword in the rain.
With a graceful motion, Zephys tidied his gear and stood up. He looked utterly ordinary—no trace of the man who had just slain a king-class demon and the apostle of a great demon.
*Shhhh...*
The rain scattered like a curtain. *Squelch, squelch.* With a rotten, mournful sound, Zephys approached Fernandez.
"Here."
Zephys shook the rainwater from his hand, wiping the fluids from the blade, and handed over the holy sword. The key sword's radiant glow shimmered dreamily through the raindrops.
Fernandez took the sword without a word and gripped it tightly for a moment. Just holding the blade conveyed the holy sword's searing divinity. For an ordinary person, even grasping it would burst their heart or tear their soul apart—a violent repulsion.
It was warranted. Considering the meaning this sword held. The key sword was a sacred relic capable of unlocking the sealed grand hall of the pantheon, a symbol of the gods safeguarding humanity, and an artifact so potent that, when used as an offering, it could manifest even an archangel into the material world.
"You're unscathed?"
"What do you mean?"
"The holy sword. You didn't touch it?"
Fernandez looked at Zephys through the rain. There were no signs of abnormality on his face. He wore the serene expression of someone out for a stroll.
"If the Lord's power would harm me, then my life has been misguided. Fortunately, it seems my existence wasn't in vain."
"Such a thing..."
Could one simply overcome the key sword's divinity by living righteously? Fernandez started to argue but hesitated. It might be possible.
Divinity, after all, intersected with the realm of conviction. The mind when gripping and swinging the sword. If, throughout the entire process—from flexing muscles to striking the foe—not a single impure thought tainted it, then perhaps.
Wielding a blade was the ultimate expression of hostility. Sword strikes held meaning only when aimed to kill. The notion of chivalric mercy in knightly romances was a fantasy.
Every action—attacking to slaughter the enemy, defending to survive—stemmed from the intent to triumph over them. Survival instinct, rivalry, murderous rage, fury. Swordplay devoid of such impurities could not exist.
Yet Zephys's strike just now had held only one conviction: 'I shall purge evil and uphold justice.' It was the realm of selflessness—a strike even a knight at the pinnacle might achieve only once or twice in a lifetime, if at all.
As Fernandez quietly marveled, Zephys smiled faintly and patted his hair.
"Faith is the lantern in my heart, Brother Cerned."
"You are truly an exemplar for us priests."
"Now, I am no priest. Merely an unarmed wanderer, an ordinary foot soldier."
"Who would treat you as a mere foot soldier, Brother? Ha."
Fernandez burst into a hearty laugh and untangled the rosary from his sword. He placed the worn relic in his palm and wiped away the blood staining it.
"Brother. When we call each other brother, it means to cherish and protect your life above my own."
"And that my death precedes yours. So that we who depart first may serve as beacons to those who remain."
"Pleased to meet you, Brother. Sincerely."
"Likewise, Brother."
*Clasp.* Fernandez and Zephys gripped each other's hands firmly and shook. After the brief handshake, the two walked out into the rain together.
It was time to head back.
"Ah, there's someone I want to introduce."
"Pardon?"
"Don't be too startled."
Zephys chuckled as they walked through the rain. Did Zephys have an acquaintance in the capital? His operations had been centered closer to the Eastern Kingdom Alliance; the capital was too far.
When they reached the ruins of the palace's collapsed outer wall after some time, he suddenly shouted loudly.
"You can come out now!"
"Yes!"
From the shelter of the rubble, someone avoiding the rain called out cheerfully and dashed forward with a patter. Fernandez's face stiffened upon seeing her.
-Huh?
'Huh?'
Even Feizashi couldn't hide his bewilderment. Why are you here?
"Uh... um..."
"Pleased to meet you!"
Piercing through the pouring rain, the woman ran out with a bright smile and shouted energetically under the flickering mana lamps of the street.
"It's improper, I know! But with all etiquette buried under those rubble piles right now, please overlook it just for today!"
Golden hair swaying, contrasted by blazing blue eyes like a beast's. She was a beauty bearing the distinctive genetic traits of the Tremulle courtly nobility.
"I am Everys Lis de la Tremulle. I once held the minor title of imperial princess, but no longer. I also held the position of foreign secretary at the Galleur Harbor, but that's gone too. Please regard me simply as one person's daughter."
"Uh..."
Fernandez glanced at Zephys with a rigid face. He nodded calmly.
Of course it was her. He'd assumed she was somewhere in the palace... but why here?
Raziel of strength and honor—barring trivial differences like eye and hair color. She was exactly as he remembered.
"It would take ages to explain, but I managed to rescue her during the operation."
"I'll need to hear that very long story, Brother."
Fernandez whispered to Zephys with a deep sigh. It was a sigh of relief. He'd thought the palace's archangel was lost for good.
* * *
Until Fernandez returned, Duke Erbe's mansion had been on maximum alert. The palace had exploded without warning, and an unforecast storm had hit, with all mages sealing borders.
In such chaos, for Paltenoya's sole defense force—leaderless, no less—to maintain composure was nearly impossible. The fact they hadn't marched on the palace immediately was a miracle of restraint.
And when they faced Fernandez—half-dead but strolling in casually—the paranoia escalated to near-hysterical battle readiness.
"Halt! Don't shoot! It's Sir Pernin!!"
"Don't loose arrows, you fool! Snap out of it!"
As Fernandez approached the mansion's inner courtyard, a blind arrow flew at him. Zephys snatched it mid-flight and laughed heartily.
"You've grown quite merry, Brother."
"Brother, I'd prefer not to think so, but since leaving the monastery to wander... I feel as if I've set down a great burden."
It might not suit an excommunicated priest, but for a veteran Demonica who'd spent half a lifetime battling death, demons, blood, and muck, excommunication could be seen as a form of honorable discharge.
Fernandez chuckled at his demeanor and faced the knights pouring out. They were fully armored, splashing through the rain.
"Sir Pernin! What in the world is this uproar!"
"The uproar seems to be yours alone."
Fernandez shrugged.
"The real uproar is over. Now there's just some cleanup left."
"The emperor...?"
"Dead."
Fernandez glanced at the smirking Everys without comment. Even as knights gasped in joy at the news, the princess showed no change, just smiled.
"And them?"
"This one provided immense aid in slaying the emperor..."
He swallowed, scanning the knights, and spoke cautiously, ready to intervene if they lunged.
"This is Her Imperial Highness Everys."
"...Pardon?"
"Nice to meet you all!"
Everys waved enthusiastically as if waiting. Panic spread among the knights. With the emperor and Duke Erbe dead, they pondered what it meant for the capital's occupying force.
*Sching.*
"Sir Pernin. Step aside."
"Sheathe your sword."
"Killing that wench now is how we secure our legitimacy."
In the end, one hot-tempered knight drew his blade and shouted. He was right. Everys was a time bomb at this moment.
With the emperor dead, the electoral council would convene. Amid mutual enmity among electors, the strongest voices were theirs: the Karbellier house of Duke Erbe, who had raised the banner of imperial defense from the war's start, with troops in the capital.
That was Rene Filipa. Combining Tremulle's military, hers, and the forces occupying Byullang via Kirhas— no warlord in the empire rivaled her now.
But another contender existed: Princess Everys. As chamberlain handling palace affairs before the war, her word on the emperor's death carried weight. Any utterance could shatter the Karbelliers' legitimacy.
Like this: The emperor's tyranny and death were a political show staged by Duke Karbellier with military force. True or not, electors wouldn't care—they'd check the overwhelmingly strong.
Her position was a sword of Damocles. Whoever wielded it, someone died. The most potent weapon: 'legitimacy' and 'face.' In noble society, sometimes deadlier than steel.
"I slew the emperor, and I've resolved your issues thus far. I've sacrificed my own legitimacy for your authority to reach this moment. And now you draw swords before me?"
*Step.*
As Fernandez advanced a step, the knights flinched back. Not submission to his might, but respect for all he'd done for House Karbellier and Libye.
With duke and duchess absent, he alone could control Karbellier's forces. At least all commander-level knights honored his achievements and authority.
"But sir, wise as you are, you know: one slip of that wench's tongue, and we're all dead, the empire torn asunder and aflame!"
"Think the opposite."
She was the sword of Damocles. The ultimate legitimacy—whoever claimed it killed another. So, if she declared support for House Karbellier?
Their authority stemmed from force. Galleur, Libye, Byullang—at least three electors united under her; no rival warlord in the empire.
Yet electors shunned overwhelming power. Without civil war, ascending via council vote was impossible. The limit of force-born authority.
But if Everys backed Rene Filipa? It changed. Acknowledging imperial tyranny, ceding Tremulle rights, proclaiming Karbelliers imperial guardians—Rene's authority would surge from force to prestige and fame.
Pro-emperor electors were spent against the Eastern Kingdoms and Beitasser Church. Unifying under Kicard was impossible save imperial consolidation. With Everys's backing, Rene could achieve it.
"But what do we trust in that wench? Her father assassinated Prince Karbellier! Instead of blood debt, ally with her kin?"
"She inherits no throne. Nor his sins."
Fernandez addressed the gathered knights calmly, in a low but resonant voice.
"No one's evil should transfer to another. No evil, no good. Deeds stay personal."
"You speak like a priest."
"Indeed."
*Rustle.*
Fernandez drew his rosary, letting it dangle long, and declared.
"As Beitasser Church's Grade 2 Inquisitor, Religiosa Demonica, monk of St. Bartholomew Monastery, and holder of diocesan bishop authority by papal decree, I say: From this moment, the Church recognizes House Karbellier's authority..."
He eyed each stunned knight firmly.
"The Holy See joyfully praises the throne of Rene Filipa de Karbellier, prince of Libye, guardian of the empire, vanguard of justice and banner. Holy Levinte Empire, endure forever. This is not mere personal opinion—it is His Holiness the Pope's will."
"The Pope declares support for secular politics?"
"No. Duke Erbe's sacrifice will be beatified as martyrdom; this is its praise."
Duke Erbe was assassinated by the demon-corrupted emperor. He'd led scant forces to defend the empire, averting war's spread and innocent deaths.
Followers of Beitasser, god of war and justice. The Church would proclaim thus officially, ending the holy war.
The emperor's evils ended, his death credited to Erbe. The duke beatified as martyr; Rene Filipa announces conversion to Beitasser Church.
She becomes empress, empire's state faith returns to Beitasser, Pope gains authority empire-wide. This is history victors forge.
Struggles in shadows, the corpses—they become its pillars. As one pillar, Fernandez smiled faintly at the aghast knights.
'Tired...'
-Well done. Rest today.
Feizashi's voice faded. Fernandez felt the ground near as he collapsed. His peak past-life signature spell, ceaseless combat, great demon mana pollution, forced awakening—his body was wrecked.
But the deep sleep after successful closure wasn't bad. Not wasted time, but recharging. With self-mockery, Fernandez closed his eyes.