Chapter 37
Chapter 37
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 37
Chapter Title: Newcomer Welcome Ceremony (2)
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Holy Knight cadets.
They were secret weapons that the Holy See had deliberately raised with utmost care.
On the surface, there was a perception that they seemed weaker than their graduated seniors.
However, surprisingly, many among them surpassed even active knights in skill.
That was because their cadet days involved the most intense training and indoctrination.
In contrast, Holy Knights who completed training and were deployed to various regions often fell into dissipated lifestyles.
Their handsome features and the psychological need for recompense after years of harsh training constantly tempted them.
Moreover, to extract information from enemies, frequent drinking and romances were essential.
No matter that it was for missions—socializing inevitably bred complacency.
On the other hand, the two who had just arrived in the prison courtyard were different.
Fred and Nix.
A twenty-year-old man and woman with starkly contrasting black and silver hair.
These top aces among their peers had plunged into their first mission on the archbishop's direct orders.
That mission: unearth Berryhill Prison's secrets and relay them back to the Church.
The capable duo would adapt here first.
Then, a few days later, they would assist the remaining three who would arrive.
"I'll first scout Saintess Anje's movements and grasp the overall prison layout."
The handsome black-haired, blue-eyed man said to his comrade standing beside him.
With his steadfast blue eyes, he possessed the deepest faith among the cadets.
A devout man awaiting divine revelation someday.
He was the de facto leader of this undercover operation.
"I'll handle the warden. I'll win his favor and seize control of the prison."
The silver-haired woman with pale eyes replied.
Her gaze was as dull as a dead fish's.
Contrasting her radiant beauty, she exuded an eerily paternal allure.
She had once been a candidate for saintess but was overshadowed by Anje's overwhelming mana.
Afterward, she trained as a special agent extracting intel from nobles.
"We'll share gathered info daily at lunch."
"All as His Grace the Archbishop wills."
Footsteps approached from afar.
Soon, the warden and guards arrived before them.
Tall in sleek black uniforms, with sinister glints in their eyes.
They resembled a cabal of fiends plotting rebellion, accompanied by their brutish guards.
"Just as rumored, they look ready to collar that woman."
"Disgusting, but unavoidable."
They muttered blankly like dolls.
From atop the prison platform, I gazed down at them with profound pity.
"What kind of lives must they have led to end up with such rotten, fishy eyes."
The guards standing in a row stared intently at me.
As if to say it wasn't my place to talk, with my own weary gaze.
I read their dossiers.
Fred and Nix.
Both from fallen nobility, no family names...
Crimes: murder and repeated robberies, respectively.
Targets all nobles, hence sent here.
Faces I'd never seen in my past life, so probably not major contributors to the downfall.
"Welcome, all. I am Derek Minster, warden of Berryhill Prison."
The two prisoners stared up at me with lifeless eyes.
To reassure them, I pulled out my prepared lines.
"You're all adults, so no long lectures. Follow prison rules, and there'll be no issues."
They each received the prison rulebook and gray inmate uniforms.
Usually, rules were posted on walls, but Berryhill provided personal copies.
'It might seem intimidating, but it's unavoidable.'
These were genuine survival rules.
Even my brothers—gladiators and mages—had ended up as mere livestock here.
Blood ties half-dead, what chance for total strangers?
This was the only way to survive.
"Rulebook...?"
"Be careful. It'll be packed with perverse crap, just like they look."
The two read the rules earnestly.
Expecting horrors and gloom aplenty.
But.
The rules weren't overly complex.
Instead, the very first one was utterly bizarre.
"...?"
The two prisoners looked up at me, wondering if they'd misread.
I nodded calmly, urging them to read on.
2. Never touch the peach flowerpot. The prison assumes no responsibility for consequences.
3. If you encounter an elder nearby, greet them politely without fail. First impressions matter greatly.
4. If you hear a voice at night, pretend to sleep. All guards leave by evening.
5. There are no female guards except the vice warden. If you meet one, run straight to the warden's office.
There were about five more such bizarre rules.
"I've warned you in advance. The warden bears no responsibility for violations."
Arms folded behind my back, I advised them gravely.
The prisoners, perceptive enough, scrutinized the rules before heading to their cells.
"I hope you survive this time."
Thud!!
Fred, Berryhill's fourth inmate, locked in his cell.
True to his knightly diligence, he immediately surveyed the structure upon entry.
Icy walls and floors like a Holy See lab.
Still, there was a bed, desk, and ample sunlight.
"These old walls could be breached easily."
Prisoners normally entered with power-suppressing restraints.
But thanks to the Holy See, his arms bore only fakes.
"Around here?"
He planned to break through beforehand and sneak to Anje nightly.
Scanning walls, he probed for weak spots.
Finally, he found one section frail.
'Just wait for nightfall.'
Fred prayed as usual, biding time.
Until the dawn when all slept.
And then...
His devout, fervent prayers reached someone.
"...?"
Fred, eyes closed, furrowed his brow.
A voice echoed in his mind during prayer.
Had a decade of prayers since age ten finally reached the divine?
The man who lived solely by faith gazed blankly at the void.
He listened to the holy resounding voice.
"Could you be the Holy Spirit?"
The voice paused briefly.
A scratching sound like head-rubbing, then reply.
For him, who had awaited God's voice, it was ecstatic.
Yet doubt lingered.
Twenty hard years, and revelation only upon arriving here?
Plus, rule 4 nagged: 'Pretend to sleep if hearing voices at night.'
"If you truly are the Holy Emperor, first show me your power."
Calmly, he demanded proof of Holy Spirit abilities.
Ghoul-types couldn't buff humans, per doctrine.
Only the Holy Spirit granted boons.
Soon, Fred felt alien power in his fingers.
Mana condensed, overflowing strength in his hands.
Not mere muscle gain.
His body felt like a wandering knight of decades' training.
Lips parted at the overwhelming buff.
Fred frowned at the impossibility.
One buff transforming him thus.
"...Impressive."
Undeniably miraculous, beyond monsters.
But not yet convinced it was the Holy Spirit.
Fred nodded slowly.
Escaping was part of the plan anyway.
"Understood. At nightfall."
Pretending compliance, he awaited dawn in statue-like prayer all day.
"... "
Night fell.
I peeked at the new inmates' cells to check on them.
The fourth, Fred, had prayed all day.
His deep faith warmed me.
'These ones are well-behaved.'
Worried about newbies, I'd taken night duty.
Relieved they fared well, I sighed.
First time meeting faith-reformed types.
Maintain that for years, I'd even help with parole.
By then, Berryhill's infamy might fade, my grim image too.
'Now, catch some shut-eye in the office.'
Yawning, I returned relaxed.
"... "
My footsteps faded; Fred's eyes snapped open.
Highly trained knight, he sprang into action.
'The moment.'
Mana surged in one hand.
Grabbing a corroded brick, he yanked hard.
It popped out, punching a hole.
Voice's owner unknown, but buff real.
Bricks flew like pages as he widened the gap.
'This should suffice.'
Cell 4's occupant wriggled through to the next.
In the process, he nudged something aside.
"What is this?"
A clatter as something toppled.
Fumbling in shadows, Fred realized it was a flowerpot.
Panic-stricken, the cadet righted it hastily, scanning around.
This was another cell.
'Saintess Anje here, perhaps?'
With faint hope, he peered slowly.
Spotting a silhouette in the dark bed corner.
Posing awkwardly before a full-length mirror.
Black hair tied in twin tails.
Imperial Academy uniform.
"Schoolgirl...?"
His neighboring cell held an inexplicable schoolgirl prisoner.
Soon, green eyes met his gaze.
That instant.
The knight cadet collapsed.
"You saw...?"
A petite hourglass figure confronted him.
Beyond her, vast killing intent like a colossal cat—no, grand monster.
"And you touched my flowerpot?"
Deep night, all asleep.
Sword Sage Myoran, trying on secretly bought clothes.
She approached the man who saw her shame.
And kicked her cherished pot.
Each step echoed like screams of her countless slain foes.
"D-devil! Devil in girl's skin...!!"
Overwhelming aura crumbling faith and training.
The black-haired man trembled, recalling rules then.
2. Never touch the peach flowerpot. Prison disclaims all liability.
4. If voice at night, pretend asleep. Not a guard.
"Aaaargh...!!"
His scream echoed through the prison.
The Heavenly Jade's soul returned meekly to slumber.
A prime soul for possession had appeared after ages, exciting whispers in vain.
Meanwhile, opposite corridor.
Silver-haired Nix sat alone by her cell window.
Her gaze fixed on the still-lit warden's office.
The girl in her prime realized target Derek remained here.
"Time to start."
She rose slowly.
Until dawn, she admired her mirror reflection.
Self-tailored inmate garb accentuating curves—sleek and refined.
Trained to enchant noblemen, she deftly picked the lock.
Strolled leisurely moonlit halls.
'Warden's office at corridor's end. One gloomy hick, easy.'
Brainwashing magic mastered; nothing scared her.
Light steps like dancing, halting before the office.
'Enter.'
Nix gripped the knob.
As it yielded softly.
"Huh?"
Seasoned mental mage, she froze.
Not the warden's office, but...
Cell 1, per rules.
"Sharp instincts, huh?"
Cold sweat at the familiar voice.
Instinct drove her backpedal, but the cell door opened itself.
"Hello, defective product?"
Inside, the red-eyed saintess sat by the window.
Silhouetted against the brilliant full moon.