The Serpent's Lair (2)
Celereja was led around the Grand Temple by the chief saintess Blaze, taking in every nook and cranny.
The temple's interior was incredibly labyrinthine—without a guide, she'd probably lose her way in minutes. Blaze patiently explained each detail to her: massive framed depictions of the Apocalypse, holy relics from various saints, the taxidermied head of a great demon, and more.
"This is the head of the great demon Margas. He led the Al-Jasha Massacre."
"Ah, so this is... Margas."
"We'll display the head of Bepher, whom you just exorcised, Your Holiness, in the empty spot beside it."
"Ah, yes..."
As Celereja stared at Margas's head, she asked cautiously, "I'm sorry, Chief Saintess, but I have a question."
"Please, speak freely, sister."
"When I exorcised Bepher, that demon said something. He called Bertrand his brother's enemy. Do you know what that means?"
"Ah... that."
Blaze faltered slightly, forcing a smile. She had sworn never to reveal what she'd done with Bertrand during their hero days.
"Sister, how much has Bertrand told you?"
"Up to the part about the sword he carries being a gift from the Goddess ten years ago."
"I see."
The Bertrand that Blaze knew trusted and protected his own people without fail. If he'd shared the Holy Sword's origins with Celereja, it meant she was already inside his "fold." So, Blaze decided it was fine for her to tell this fledgling saintess herself.
After all, Blaze had fought alongside Bertrand in Al-Jasha and against the Demon King's forces—they understood each other without words.
"Bertrand was a hero."
"A hero? What's that?"
"Right, you wouldn't know."
Blaze calmly recounted Bertrand's decade as a hero to Celereja: how he'd stormed the royal palace and summoned lightning from the heavens to prove his power; how he'd thwarted world-ending catastrophes multiple times; how the continent's liberation from the Demon King's terror was all thanks to him.
Celereja listened in a daze, mouth slightly agape.
"That's why that demon Bepher said it. Bertrand beheaded not just Margas, but countless other demons. The Demon King too, of course."
"Y-You mean... Bertrand really... did all that...?"
"Yes. Hard to believe, I know."
"I can't believe it... That's not even human... Unless..."
Blaze guessed what Celereja was about to say and shook her head with a laugh.
"You mean an incarnation? But he's not."
The chief saintess wouldn't lie, but Celereja still couldn't wrap her head around it—even after seeing him decapitate a great demon with one sword stroke right in front of her.
"Anyway, sister, Bertrand's past doesn't really matter that much, does it?"
Celereja started to agree, but a strange feeling stopped her. Seeing Blaze's smile, she realized the chief saintess had already noticed her feelings for Bertrand.
"Ah... Chief Saintess... that's..."
"It's fine, sister. You can't force people's hearts, and leaning one way isn't a sin."
Blaze continued with a gentle smile. "Bertrand's a good man. Not some legendary hero clad in righteous justice, though."
"Yes... you're right... Bertrand is... a good man..."
"Anyone who gets close to him can't help but like him. I was the same."
"Yeah... And he saved me. Not only that, he let me take credit for his demon hunt this time... Ah!"
Celereja clapped a hand over her mouth at the slip. Blaze smiled knowingly.
"I know everything, sister. Exorcising a great demon is beyond your holy power right now. I know Bertrand helped."
"I'm sorry... for lying..."
"He told you to say that, right?"
"Yes..."
"Knew it. That's how he is—always making the people around him shine brighter so he can use them. No wonder those who know him call him the philistine hero."
"Philistine hero? That fits Bertrand perfectly."
Blaze lightly placed a hand on Celereja's shoulder.
"I'm jealous of you, sister. You're in the same place as Bertrand, inside his fold."
Celereja caught the strange glint in Blaze's eyes. Affection? Longing?
"Help that sly philistine hero out a lot, sister. You might feel used sometimes, but you'll get a bigger reward in the end."
"Yes... I understand. I'll keep it in mind, Chief Saintess."
Just then, Bertrand sauntered down the corridor from afar.
"Ah, there's the philistine hero."
"Philistine hero? Heh, haven't heard that in ages."
Bertrand grinned at Celereja.
"Gonna swing by the palace real quick, saintess."
"Huh?! The palace? But I have no reason to go there..."
"Just come with me. Let's go."
Bertrand exchanged farewells with Blaze—standard stuff like "see you later" and "take care." Celereja did the same, then followed him out.
Glancing back as they walked the corridor, she saw Blaze still standing there, watching them.
The palace guards recognized my face and let us in. The chamberlain, having heard the news, came out to the drawbridge.
"Balder. What brings you without notice?"
"Had business at the Grand Temple, so I dropped by. And about what you mentioned last time."
The chamberlain nodded curtly and led us inside.
Celereja, visiting the palace for the first time, was stiff as a board, waddling along with her arm and leg on the same side moving in sync.
"Relax, saintess. We're not prisoners."
"But... this is where all the high nobles are..."
"It's fine. Don't worry."
The chamberlain led us through corridors and stairs into the palace's war room. At the door, he turned to Celereja.
"No entry for the saintess. I'll show you to the waiting room."
Right. The war room was restricted to those with top-level clearance.
A servant appeared out of nowhere to guide Celereja. She looked at me helplessly.
"Wait here, saintess. Be right back."
"Okay..."
As Celereja headed down the hall, the chamberlain opened the war room door.
The room was huge—about the size of three of our inns combined. Filled with people, desks, maps, charts, and everything needed for military ops.
Divided into three main areas: left side was the comms room with palace mages liaising with legion command mages; right was intel analysis with Defense Ministry reps, legion officers, and intel agents; center was the command post with a massive tilted kingdom map.
No actual walls dividing them—just seating arrangements.
In the center command post sat Elua, poring over the map. Flanking her were the Defense Minister and intel chief, with Brione, the chief mage, and other key figures lined up around the map in heated discussion.
The intel chief spotted me first, flinching and whispering to Elua.
Then—scraaaaaape!—chairs shoved back as Elua shot to her feet.
Her wicked snake eyes curved like crescent moons at the sight of me.
Let's see. No new scars since last time. Eyes still creepy as ever. Hair in good shape. All black clothes, as usual.
"Balder."
"Greetings, Your Majesty."
"What brings you here?"
"Dropping off a great demon's head at the temple, thought I'd stop by."
Elua looked puzzled but soon flashed her signature sinister smile.
"Something happened, I take it. We'll hear about it later."
"What's going on? Heard the kingdom's five minutes from total chaos."
The Defense Minister scowled, mouthing, Read the room, man!
Like I'd know the vibe just walking in.
Elua, still smiling, ordered into the air, "Bring a chair, Grancis."
Grancis? I glanced back—Grancis, standing like a statue by the door, creaked forward with a chair.
...Still keeping her around? Thought she'd release the merchant lord once she abandoned her guild.
Grancis set the chair next to the intel chief, so I sat.
As I settled in, discomfort flashed across the intel chief's face.
"Little shit. Not smiling?"
"Haha... All well with you, hero?"
"What'd you do with your Rosens agents? All pulled back?"
"Of course. Soon as you said, they all returned to the capital."
"Hmph."
I glared at the intel chief once, then turned to the map.
Flags of various colors littered it chaotically. Knowing what they meant, I grasped the big picture.
"Damn. Fuck... What a shitty situation."