Chapter 32
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: The Prophetess's Garden
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It was about half a day later when the passenger ferry, having sliced smoothly through the waves, arrived at a small island.
An unusual sight greeted the party as they disembarked.
The first thing that caught their eye was two massive, distinct spires standing proudly in the distance. Atop one was the statue of a goddess with a benevolent expression, her hands full of daisies. On the other stood a great bell. Both were clearly visible even from afar.
The buildings lining the paved road that led to the spires were all uniformly neat and cleanly whitewashed, giving a sense of organized harmony.
Luon tilted his head as he observed the scene from a distance.
You could easily call this a small city.
Following the crowd of disembarked passengers toward a gate that seemed to serve as a checkpoint, he saw a soldier with an indifferent expression addressing the group in a monotone voice.
“Laypeople are not permitted to enter the Grand Church. If you have come on a pilgrimage, please go to that building over there.”
The soldier’s finger pointed to a small structure that looked like a miniature version of the two distant spires.
Most of the people walked away without a word, leaving only a few knights and priests whom Luon had seen on the ship.
They all seemed to be acquainted with the soldiers and entered the gate without any hindrance. In the end, only Luon, Igor, and Becky remained.
Just as Luon was contemplating whether he should brandish the pommel of his holy sword, Igor handed a rolled-up, old piece of parchment to the soldier.
“I am Igor. My recommendation from Father Yonatan was approved, and I have been officially assigned to the Grand Church. This is my letter of appointment, stamped with the Grand Church’s seal.”
The soldier unrolled the parchment, read it, and slowly nodded.
“Welcome, brother. You may pass.”
Igor gestured to Luon and Becky, adding.
“This man is a warrior who bears a holy relic bestowed by the Mother, though he lacks an official church affiliation. And this woman…”
Just then, another soldier came running up, panting, and whispered something in the ear of the soldier standing before them.
He might have intended it to be a whisper, but Luon’s enhanced hearing caught every word.
“The Prophetess has ordered that those three be brought inside.”
***
She knew I was coming?
Luon frowned as he was escorted by the soldiers.
The thought that someone was tracking his movements was not a pleasant one.
Be it the Prophetess, Tivela, or anyone else.
Just then, Igor whispered softly.
“Sir Luon, where are we going?”
He seemed flustered that they were moving further away from the spires and onto a secluded path.
Luon found it odd as well, but seeing no ill intent on the soldiers’ faces, he just shrugged and said.
“It seems the one you so deeply admire has summoned us.”
“Pardon?”
In the meantime, the group arrived in front of a certain residence.
The mansion’s high, iron-barred gate was swung wide open on both sides, making its presence feel almost meaningless.
Could it be because of these flowers?
Luon tilted his head, looking at the pale pink daisies blooming along the path where the gate would open and close.
He’d never imagined a residence that left its gate open for fear of damaging the flowers, and he had to admit, it spoke volumes about the Prophetess’s character.
As he was thinking this, a young woman with a gentle demeanor walked out from beyond the gate and spoke to the soldiers.
“Thank you for your hard work. You may return now.”
At her soft voice, the soldiers who had guided them bowed their heads briefly and turned back the way they came.
Is that her?
The woman met Luon's gaze with a slight smile and extended her arm toward the inside of the residence.
“The three of you, please come this way.”
Passing through a short path paved with evenly spaced flagstones that gave it the feel of a tranquil promenade, the group arrived in what appeared to be the mansion’s garden.
The woman raised her voice.
“Our guests have arrived.”
“Ah, have they?”
An old woman, who had been squatting by a flowerbed near a grove of fragrant orange trees and planting something, straightened her stooped back and stood up.
As she approached the group, Luon could see a bulb with soil still clinging to its roots in her hand.
The old woman smiled. It was a warm smile that crinkled the fine lines of a person in the twilight of her life in a pleasant way.
“It is an honor to meet you in person, Warrior.”
“You’re the Prophetess?”
“Eek!”
The conversation was between the old woman and Luon, but it was Igor who turned pale.
He didn't even seem to realize he had cried out, his eyes wide and his mouth agape.
“P-Prophetess?”
The old woman looked at Igor with a gentle gaze before fixing her eyes on Luon again.
“It is an embarrassing title.”
“I assumed a prophetess would naturally be inside the church.”
“I can’t tend my vegetable garden in there.”
With that reply, the old woman placed the bulb on the ground and brushed the dirt from her hands.
“Lauren, would you prepare some tea?”
“Yes.”
As the woman called Lauren bowed and headed toward the mansion, the old woman gestured with her head.
“This way.”
A short while later, the group was seated around a small table next to a pond in the garden, led by the old woman.
Feels like a picnic.
Luon let out a quiet sigh.
The table was laden with teacups and delicious-looking biscuits, but no one dared to reach for them. Igor stared intently at the old woman’s face, his jaw slack with awe, while Becky just fidgeted with her hands, clearly uncomfortable in such a setting.
Of course, Luon wasn’t interested either.
He hadn’t crossed the sea to the Grand Church just to leisurely sip tea. He spoke.
“Did Tivela tell you I was coming?”
After a moment of silence following his blunt question, the old woman slowly opened her mouth.
“You would not be wrong to think so.”
Luon found it strange that the Prophetess, who was much his senior, was speaking to him so formally, but since she seemed unbothered, he decided to endure the awkwardness and pressed on with his questions.
“What did Tivela say?”
A slow smile formed on the Prophetess’s lips.
“Warrior, the Mother’s will is not so direct. She only conveys fragmentary scenes to me through dreams. My role is to interpret those scenes and add flesh to them. Learning that you would be here today happened in a similar context.”
She looked at Luon and added.
“However, your image has appeared quite frequently, so I can’t help but be pleased to see you.”
Having no desire to force himself to understand the Prophetess’s somewhat cryptic words, Luon cut straight to the chase.
“I didn’t come here to hear that I’ve been appearing in your dreams. This is about the circumstances under which I obtained this sword.”
He placed the holy sword, still in its scabbard, on the table.
“I killed Belducias’s minion and obtained this sword. No, it would be more accurate to say I received it. Thanks to that, I've been called 'Champion' until I'm sick of hearing it, a title I never asked for.”
“Is that so.”
Watching the Prophetess silently smile as she brought the teacup to her lips, Luon continued.
“To cut to the chase, after getting this sword, I’ve been caught up in one thing after another and have unintentionally made an enemy of Belducias. So I intend to kill him, but I have no means of tracking him down. Can you help?”
His unreserved words made even the Prophetess, who had been serene until now, raise her eyebrows in surprise.
But the expression on Luon’s face, the one who had uttered those words, was calm.
And why wouldn’t it be? Ever since glimpsing a fragment of the future at the Magic Tower, Luon had resolved to take Belducias’s head.
It wasn't because he harbored a burning hatred for Belducias, but because the great demon stood on the opposite side of the sentence that had held him for so long.
[Complete your story by challenging countless monsters, demons, and legends.]
For a long time, Luon had vaguely understood the underlying meaning of that sentence. This damned game was urging him to achieve great deeds.
He didn't know where it would end, but that much was certain. And it was also certain that there was no better offering than Belducias.
However, despite his will, he had no ability to track the demon, so he had no choice but to seek help from a group like Tivela's Grand Church.
In a way, it was the obvious choice.
After all, his entanglement with Belducias had started with cleansing Tivela’s monastery, and the sword in his hand was a holy blade that devoured demonic power.
“……”
Though it was a brief history, the story it contained was anything but ordinary. Igor and Becky held their breath, their eyes darting between Luon and the Prophetess.
Then, the Prophetess slowly spoke.
“You speak of killing one of the beings that all mortals fear as if you were planning to catch a fox in the mountains behind your house.”
Is that how it sounded?
Luon replied, half-jokingly.
“I am Tivela’s Champion, after all. Shouldn’t I at least do that much?”
At his words, the Prophetess slowly shook her head.
“You yourself know best, but you are not Tivela’s Champion. Just as the Mother did not gift you that sword with that expectation.”
The unexpected words made Luon look straight into the Prophetess’s wrinkled face. He said.
“I’ve always wondered. I felt I received too great a gift for the task I completed. What was Tivela thinking, giving me this sword?”
The Prophetess said.
“Warrior, the Mother was watching you long before you dealt with the demon’s minion. And she was not the only one.”
What?
Luon tilted his head. Meanwhile, her story continued.
“Those who watch over us alongside the Mother have a profound interest in your journey.”
It was obvious who ‘those’ were without her having to say it. Those who stood alongside Tivela could only be the seven ancient gods.
Learning that he was, unintentionally, the subject of the gods' fervent attention, Luon’s brow furrowed harshly.
“Am I just a clown on a stage?”
“Perhaps. More like a new…”
The Prophetess stopped mid-sentence.
“...No, that might be too much of a leap on my part. Please, forget I said that.”
Saying so, as if to change the subject, the Prophetess closed her eyes and reached a wrinkled hand toward the scabbard on the table.
After remaining in that state for a long moment, she slowly opened her eyes and spoke.
“If you follow the source of the power this sword has consumed, you will eventually find yourself in the great demon’s vicinity. It will serve as a kind of compass.”
Luon tilted his head at her vague words.
“How do I do that…”
He was about to say, *I don’t know*, but he swallowed his words.
Divinity.
He remembered the new ability he had gained a few days ago upon leveling up, one that could help him draw out more of the holy sword’s power.
The Prophetess smiled faintly.
“The sword has been telling you all along. You simply did not realize it. But you cannot wait for the right moment forever, can you?”
She then continued.
“Warrior, I will find those who can help you with what you currently lack. We have many skilled paladins and priests who will serve as reliable guides for you.”
At the Prophetess’s words, Luon silently turned his head. There sat Igor, habitually clasping his hands, listening intently to the conversation.
Luon grinned.
“It must be fate we came this far together. Let’s go together.”
“...But I just arrived?”