Chapter 271
Chapter 271
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 271
Chapter Title: Holy Levintear Empire (2)
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Fernandez had finally woken up after being unconscious for two straight days. Considering he was a Religiosa Demonica, it was an unusually slow recovery.
It was due to all the injuries he had sustained up to now, his body pushed to the brink of death, and the toll of wielding magic while directly tainted by a great demon's curse.
When he finally opened his eyes, he saw Kirhas holding a blade to the doctor's throat, Abel sitting quietly with her hands clasped in prayer, and Freyja leaning against the sofa in the far corner of the room with her arms crossed.
"What are you all doing?"
"U-Uncle!! Prayer!!"
Kirhas leaped up with a thud and landed right on the bed. In that instant, Abel's hand shot out like lightning and grabbed the back of Kirhas's neck, lifting her into the air.
"Urk!"
"Enough of that. He's a patient right now."
"Benefactor! Benefactor!!"
Fernandez averted his gaze from the panicking Kirhas and Abel, who looked at her with a mix of exasperation and reproach. Freyja spoke bluntly.
"By the goddess's sight, you're standing on the edge right now."
"What do you mean?"
"It's not something to say in front of the kids. Spare your body while you can. Thanks for your hard work, doctor human. Off you go."
She shrugged and walked out with heavy steps. Abel glanced at Fernandez and Freyja before letting out a deep sigh.
Standing on the edge... It most likely referred to his lifespan. Freyja was the goddess of life, so perhaps she could see how much time he had left. Fernandez shrugged.
"I need a situation report. How much time has passed?"
"Two days! You've been asleep for two whole days, Benefactor!"
"What happened?"
"Duke Carbellier's forces occupied the imperial palace ruins and declared a state of emergency in the capital. Negotiations with the Papal Court are over, and both official and unofficial letters have arrived. One's addressed to you—want to see it now?"
"Hand it over."
Abel pulled a letter from her bosom and handed it to Fernandez. It was sealed with the Pope's insignia in wax. He broke the seal without a word and unfolded the letter.
"The Pope has recognized Duke Erb's martyrdom. Soon, Duke Carbellier will officially be beatified as a martyr saint, and Princess Renee Filippa will inherit the title under the Papal Court's approval."
"That's what's bothering me. Does inheriting a title require the Pope's approval?"
"Not usually. But since the duke's death is being treated as martyrdom, the Carbellier bloodline now carries religious significance. Gaining legitimacy for that in an Elector house's history is unprecedented..."
And extraordinarily powerful. Normal title successions involve reading the will in the presence of a priest. They're held with the deceased noble's vassals, acquaintances, and relatives all gathered, followed by the funeral and the heir's accession ceremony.
Even the priests officiating the funeral have ranks, especially for successions on par with Elector houses. The officiating priest's position and the number of attending vassals secure the authority, prestige, and legitimacy.
For the Pope to personally preside over such a ceremony is highly unusual—and immensely powerful. The Pope rarely attends secular nobles' events. Unlike church affairs, noble gatherings are steeped in politics.
In that context, the Pope—who had been extremely hostile to the Empire—personally attending the accession, beatifying the late Duke Erb as a martyr saint...
'No noble would see that as purely innocent.'
Various hypotheses would swirl. The Pope was negotiating peace with the Empire directly. The Pope was behind the Emperor's death. He was starting political interference in the secular throne through Renee Filippa.
Rumors that were hard to dismiss outright, all inching close to the truth. Truths beneath political issues never wore a single face.
"If the Pope announces this himself, the next Emperor will be Renee Filippa."
"That's the talk going around. But... there's still no good news from Guerre. Why hasn't she entered the capital directly? Shouldn't she hold the duke's funeral?"
"She's building her justification."
In other words, pruning the branches. In this precarious situation teetering on outright revolution, removing vestiges of the old regime was more intricate and delicate than surgery.
Noble houses were all tangled in complex, cunning webs, so she was likely focused on identifying and dealing with nobles who had sided with the Emperor or fallen under his influence.
"Does that mean she's massacring hostile forces indiscriminately right now? Like the Pope did?"
"Unlikely. That would draw too much attention. With justification in hand, she has no need for that kind of backlash. She's probably negotiating. With the pro-Emperor Electors who won't vote for her throne."
Even with solid justification, about half the Electors had sided with the Emperor. If they all voted against in the Elector Council, a smooth transfer of the throne would be impossible.
Crushing them by force would spark a new civil war. How history would dub an Emperor whose reign began in civil war, and the headwinds during their rule, were all too clear.
So Renee was deep in backchannel negotiations now. With the Pope's approval, the Emperor's corruption, and overwhelming military might as cards, the talks wouldn't drag on.
"But there was another strange letter. This one's unofficial."
"Hm...?"
"I said there was an extra unofficial letter from the Pope to you."
Abel handed over another letter. It was a worn scroll sealed with wax. Fernandez sliced the wax with a letter knife and read it slowly.
Then he read it again. This time more leisurely, savoring each word.
After four times, Abel couldn't hold back.
"May I ask what it says?"
"Hm..."
"Benefactor!"
Kirhas thumped her tail on the bed as she perched there. She grinned mischievously at Abel, then snatched the letter.
"I'm from headquarters, so I can read it!"
"You probably don't have secret clearance..."
"Just keep it secret for me, Benefactor!"
Fernandez shrugged at that, and Kirhas chuckled as she read down the page... then stopped.
"Huh?"
"What does it say?"
"Oh my god... this... this... No way! This can't happen!"
Kirhas shrieked and flung the letter away. It was the worst way to handle a papal secret missive. Abel snatched the fluttering letter midair, read it, and paled.
"Mar...riage? Marriage alliance...?"
"Hm..."
"I knew that woman would pull something like this! I've disliked her since the first time I saw her! I oppose this marriage!!"
Before Fernandez could stop her, Kirhas screamed and bolted out. Abel watched her go, then composed herself and sat calmly beside Fernandez.
"It might be sudden, but a question occurred to me."
"...What is it?"
Fernandez rubbed his prickling nape and asked. Abel smiled softly.
"Is the Papal Court designed to withstand a dragon's breath?"
"Calm down."
"A marriage alliance? Marriage... alliance? This is an outrageous imposition. I... am the dragon who safeguards human free will. I cannot tolerate such tyranny."
"You're getting too worked up. Calm down."
"Did that princess really demand that from the Pope? Well, she could. You're exceptional even among humans, hard to match. But for the Pope to approve it!"
Fernandez sighed and rubbed his forehead. Abel burned with a quiet, smoldering fury.
The Pope's secret missive was straightforward. In exchange for Princess Renee Filippa de Carbellier's approval of the beatification of Duke Carbellier as a martyr saint of the Beitasser Church, the establishment of the imperial state religion, the preemptive declaration of the Holy War Army, and other secret pacts favorable to the Church—
She requested an official marriage to the monk of St. Bartholomew Monastery, Fernandez Cerned.
The Papal Court's stance was simple: Marriage is a beautiful sacrament, one that should be joyfully accepted as duty... but while they couldn't officiate, they would approve based on the parties' will. That was the gist.
From the Papal Court's view, it was an unbeatable deal. Handing over one monk in exchange for the Church's influence in secular society—especially the foremost power in civilized lands officially converting to the state religion—was monumental.
Fernandez stared at the letter for a long while, then nodded readily.
"Not a bad deal."
"...What did you say...?"
"Religion doesn't forbid monks from marrying. From the Pope's perspective, a marriage between the Emperor and a monk means future heirs could become cleric Electors. As long as the Empire doesn't fall, the Pope's influence on imperial elections would reach across generations."
"No, not that condition. Aren't there others?"
"Even personally, it's not bad. Backed by imperial authority, I'd get assured support. Far better than an Inquisitor's position, hampered by approvals and restrictions on operations."
Fernandez assessed coolly. Getting operations approved by the Inquisition was too convoluted.
Some operations needed immediate action by his judgment; others didn't. But plans drawn from past-life memories required plausible justifications and procedures for the current Church's approval.
Skipping all that red tape for unchecked mission starts, with solid backing no one could challenge. Not a bad outcome.
"You're approving a marriage for something like that?"
"Like that? Officially, I'd hold both monk and imperial state secretary roles. Simultaneous Church and imperial support—practically no one in civilized society would have greater authority than me."
"You... you...!!"
Abel fumed for a while, then shot to her feet and ran out. Fernandez watched her back and sighed.
-You're caught in troubles you never asked for, Fernandez.
'State secretary is just a formality anyway. A token for the secret pact between Renee Filippa and the Pope. No real substance—why's everyone so mad?'
-I don't get that either. Come to think of it, you've been Hearttaker's lover since the operation started.
Feizashi and Fernandez remained wrapped in confusion until a servant entered to prepare the meal. He stared blankly as the servant set out tea, then suddenly asked.
"Brother Zephys... no, where's the man who came with me?"
"Sir Shiradast? He's volunteered for the sewer disinfection work."
"Sewer disinfection?"
The capital likely still harbored Urkasia-line demons or their followers. Missing persons cases had spiked near the sewers, after all.
Fernandez chuckled wryly. It was classic Religiosa Demonica diligence. No longer an Inquisitor, yet he threw himself into purging heretics. Probably from conviction, not duty.
Admirable either way. Fernandez had piles of things to discuss, but they'd wait.
"Then the princess... no, Lady Tremulle—where is she?"
He had other urgent matters too. Negotiations with the Tremulle count family, scripts for upcoming official announcements. He needed Everys's help.
But the servant said cautiously,
"She went with Sir Shiradast."
"Huh?"
"Well... Lady Tremulle insisted on tackling the capital's horrors hands-on. She's joined Sir Shiradast in the sewer disinfection."
A noble lady who'd spent her life in the palace volunteering to fight demons in the sewers? What was she thinking? Fernandez plunged back into confusion.
Rationally, it was a sharp political show. Carbellier vassals hated Everys. Volunteering for the front lines would at least reduce sudden assassination risks.
But was it necessary? No. Her value lay in her unique position, not personal popularity. She didn't need to crawl sewers herself.
-I get it now!
'What?'
-Romance!
Feizashi laughed confidently, ha!
-Forgot Everys's situation? The Emperor tried sacrificing her to summon a great demon. Think her treatment was decent?
'Probably horrific.'
Her lack of corruption was purely due to the great angel's divinity within. Intent on using her as catalyst for Urkasia, the Emperor likely confined her to horrors beyond a lab.
-Then picture this: that brute Zephys shows up, smashes all the trash around, rescues the princess. How's that look to a noble girl? Chivalric romance!
'That's jumping the gun.'
Fernandez shook his head.
* * *
"Come with me...!"
"Wouldn't it be better if you rested at the mansion?"
"But...! Huff, huff... Wait! Come with me!"
Pushing through filthy sewers, witnessing the slaughter of stench-spewing monsters—she could endure it all. What wore Everys down wasn't the revolting sewers, but simply walking for so long.
A princess who'd shunned exercise her whole life. For a lady confined to inner palaces, every step was a physical limit.
Zephys sighed shortly. Their advance was slower than planned; the sector purge wasn't done.
"You're too slow, Lady Tremulle. This is near the slums underground. Unlike noble districts, they have almost no self-defense. If we don't clear this by tonight, they'll suffer these fiends through the night."
"So... dashing... chivalry!"
"..."
Zephys stared silently at the panting Everys. Under his cold gaze, she trembled slightly and leaned closer.
"I just want to help you, sir... Am I a burden...?"
He nearly said yes, but her deer-like clear eyes met his. She gazed up pitifully, quivering.
Could he focus if he sent her back now? Water under the bridge. Surfacing now was trouble, and slum security was at best lawless wasteland thugs.
She couldn't return alone. He sighed.
"Follow as carefully as you can."
"Yes, yes!"
* * *
-Yeah, sorry. No matter how I think, that one's a no.
'Of course. Even ignoring the rest, that age gap between them.'
Around then, the two black mages—who'd even fathered a son with lovers twenty years apart—shook their heads as they exchanged those words.