Chapter 46

“This is….”

How should I take this?

Why does Grandeous’ name have to show up here of all places?

“So it is! Here it was!”

Before anyone knew it, Philbar showed up with a giant umbrella and started waving a cloth in both hands like there was some kind of reaction.

“Did you see or hear anything?”

“Yes.”

Cariel glanced over the area near Alesia and the Baroneurers family from a distance before asking.

“Grandeous, you know him, right?”

“Know him? But why are you asking that?”

“…He was Cariel Fortress’s master.”

Philbar looked puzzled for a while before suddenly widening his eyes.

“What…? Goodness gracious. Wait a moment! By any chance, do you know Grandeous’ true identity? This… isn’t information someone usually has access to. Phew?”

In an instant, his expression turned chaotic as he checked his surroundings before whispering into Cariel’s ear.

“Well, if you know, it’ll make things easier. Still, it might be best not to mention this story to anyone else.”

“…”

“That’s right. If this gets out, it could significantly impact how knighthood is perceived—not just within the Order but overall. It’d likely go beyond backlash and straight into cover-ups.”

“So, we’re hiding the truth?”

“The truth isn’t what matters here. It’s about how living people interpret it. And it’s not really hiding; it’s just not mentioning it. We aren’t doing anything wrong, are we?”

So this is…

“500 years. Or maybe 1,000 years. Keeping it under wraps until then should be fine.”

“…”

“Humans and civilization are fragile beings. While wise individuals might accept this easily, there will be far more who wouldn’t tolerate it even if the heavens fell. On the flip side, there’d also be those who’d exploit it.”

Cariel had no choice but to slowly nod in agreement.

“I… understand.”

“Phew. I should feel glad, but my heart feels complicated. Another stroke of inspiration strikes me. Hmm! Alright, let me get back to my work. Let’s pretend nothing happened here, alright? We’ll adjust our stories later.”

The big umbrella in the middle of the city street must’ve caused some commotion.

By now, a minor disturbance had begun.

“There’s the baron!”

“My lord?”

Thanks to Lord Raia stepping in quickly, everything settled down without much trouble.

“So, this is the place?”

“That’s correct. Saint Cariel likely passed away around here.”

And then Philbar subtly glanced at Cariel.

“Hmph.”

Alesia looked somewhat somber as she quietly scanned the bustling street while trying not to draw attention.

“I’m thinking of using magic to recreate the situation from back then as a vision. However, since the streets are narrow, can you clear out some space for us? Also, we should set up barriers just in case. Let’s do this after sunset anyway since we’re mainly here to confirm the location.”

With that, Philbar hopped back into the carriage, claiming inspiration struck again.

“So that’s how it is?”

Lord Raia spoke up, lightening the mood.

“If that’s the case, everyone disperse! We’ll reconvene here tonight.”

The baron added,

“It’s festival preparation time anyway, so this’ll be fun. Don’t feel pressured, you two—go enjoy yourselves.”

This comment was directed at Alesia and Cariel, who nodded obediently.

“Then, let’s head to the church together. You were planning to visit it anyway, right?”

Despite her grumbling about their outfits, Alesia seemed to enjoy the festival preparations.

Only two days left, they said?

They originally intended to stop by the church once, unrelated to the festival.

“…”

Plans never seem to go exactly as expected, huh?

The small hill rising in the city.

Atop it stood the church building, reachable only after climbing nearly 200 uneven stone stairs.

The problem was that the stair layout sometimes spiraled, making it less than straightforward for normal folks.

And the height of each step varied wildly too.

Still, once you manage to climb it, the view of the medium-sized city below is worth it, though some nearby young lovers complained it was half-blocked by the hill.

“Hey, can we check out the church building for a bit?”

“Huh? Up there? Why?”

“I’m curious how it looks from above.”

“If you can get up there, give it a shot.”

Though Alesia said this, she didn’t seem overly hopeful.

However, Cariel effortlessly tested the walls a few times, then began scaling them vertically as if leaping through the air.

“Whoa! What is that guy?”

“An elf?”

“What makes him so agile?”

As he rapidly ascended from the ground, eventually reaching the church roof, the scenery changed—but:

“…”

There was no stirring sense of awe or enlightenment, no sudden clarity.

Once again, Cariel reaffirmed that his emotions and sensibilities weren’t as lively as before.

While being indifferent to things around him reduced emotional disturbances, which had its advantages:

Was it because of this?

The world increasingly felt bland, monotonous, and hollow.

And it seemed natural to accept everything this way.

“…”

A few seconds passed.

Suddenly, Cariel appeared to walk on air—or rather, there was nothing beneath him but empty space.

Without hesitation, his body plummeted vertically.

Some onlookers gasped or covered their eyes in shock.

Thud!

Just before hitting the ground, Cariel kicked off the wall to slow his descent, landing smoothly with an agile roll.

“How did you learn to do that?”

“…It wasn’t so much learning as it came naturally?”

Though faintly, ever since some point, he realized he could do such things effortlessly.

Even so, technically, it wasn’t truly his own power at play here.

After all, someone with poor mana control couldn’t possibly achieve such feats purely through personal strength, right?

On one hand, maybe gaining these skills compensated for his inability to use mana effectively.

That’s just how he thought about it.

“How do you do it?”

“Like gaps in the wind, I guess. It’s about going against the flow properly… hard to explain.”

“Hmm.”

“Isn’t it difficult for you, Alesia, to scale buildings like this too?”

“…Not impossible if I want to. Just annoying to get caught and reprimanded, so I’d do it secretly if I tried.”

Alesia seemed deep in thought about something.

“Ah, look at my state of mind. Let’s just go inside.”

Cariel sighed softly upon seeing the entrance.

…Of course.

Churches were inconvenient in many ways.

It wasn’t the solemn atmosphere or holy vibes that mattered most.

Whenever he came here:

The holier and more sacred the place, the more it reminded him of his mother, Hermine.

But the interior of this church, unlike its exterior, was surprisingly simple.

Though tall, it lacked floors or divisions—it was just high ceilings adorned with stained glass, creating beautiful, iridescent light that gave a serene yet majestic feel.

Yet, none of it resonated deeply.

The structure was precisely shaped like a cross, and at the center of the church, where the arms of the cross met:

…the statues stood there.

A man kneeling on one knee, gripping the hilt of his sword with both hands.

Despite the weight pressing down, he remained steadfast, resting his forehead against the hilt, head bowed.

His eyes closed, he exuded resilience.

This statue was crafted over five years by an artist to honor Saint Cariel.

Facing this figure leaning on his sword embedded in the ground, another scene unfolded behind him:

Worn-out, tattered figures of men, women, and children pressed against his cloak, shoulders, and back, heads bowed in sorrow, hands touching him gently.

They appeared to be crying.

Or rather, their expressions conveyed mourning.

Statues can’t shed tears, after all.

Simply interpreting their faces this way brought meaning to the sculpture.

Nearby, devotees and plain-clothed knights occasionally prayed silently with heads bowed, while others meditated in quiet remembrance.

“I’ll change clothes and be back soon. Take your time looking around.”

As she left, silence enveloped the area once more, fitting for a church where everyone naturally maintained decorum.

Cariel retreated to a corner, leaning against the wall, and asked the void:

“Why did Grandeous teach Cariel?”

-How would I know?

Apparently, even she found this fact surprising.

-I may know a lot, but that doesn’t mean I know everything. If I did, I’d be the All-Knowing Demon King, not the Demon King of Wisdom.

“…”

-You came here of your own will, not because I wished it. In fact, I never wanted this. Rather, I want to ask you: why did you come here? Did you expect this?

“No way.”

It was extremely perplexing.

Of all people, he learned swordsmanship from Grandeous.

And now, during this journey to recover Grandeous’ lost weapon, he discovered that his own name, Cariel, was connected to Grandeous?

If he hadn’t come here, he’d have known none of this.

-Doesn’t this feel oddly coincidental? Perhaps it’s not coincidence but destiny.

“…”

Then it becomes stranger.

And if he accepted this too easily:

Could it mean every pain and irrationality in his life was preordained?

Thinking back, anger surfaced where none existed before.

It felt like he was merely a pawn in someone else’s cruel game.

“I don’t care about knights or any of that nonsense.”

He didn’t want to become one.

There was no reason to.

All he had left was a shattered pride, formless and broken.

Admiration vanished long ago.

Any spark of hope for the future had already burned out and scattered like ash in the wind.

He neither desired nor expected anything anymore.

Whether he became a knight or a hero.

If he was born destined for such roles:

He would firmly reject it, no matter what.

Even if it was something someone else desperately yearned for.

Among all the countless people in the world:

He alone would say no.

====

Since I had spare time, I asked the Demon King various questions.

“In the past, your people openly cursed you. How does that make you feel?”

-I told them to curse me. If they’re gonna do it, they should do it properly. Humans always curse me whenever they meet me, and they’re doing a great job. Are they putting their hearts into it?

This was somewhat unexpected.

Did this Demon King lack any desire for recognition, boasting, or achievements entirely?

-The difference lies in values and goals. Do you think I don’t have those?

The Demon King explained:

-The only thing I feared was losing His favor. The rest—opinions and judgments—are irrelevant.

Perhaps this was another form of arrogance.

“What was the purpose behind introducing the Golden Rule?”

-To make you respect each other.

So that:

-To enable equal dialogue and negotiation with you today. It’s a form of preliminary education.

Demons don’t have that kind of mindset.

If they do, it’s only through contracts.

-Compared to humans, demons are inherently violent and brutal—even savages would find them several steps ahead in aggression.

“Are you saying their attitude stems from your rules?”

-Partially. But can you really compromise with wolves, sheep, and bears, and then force birds and fish into the same fence? Does that sound reasonable?

No, it doesn’t, kid.

-Giving up faster leads to higher goal achievement. Useless attachment and obsession are enemies of wisdom.

She remained firm as ever.

So, I wondered:

When will I finally crumple this infuriating Demon King’s image like a piece of paper?

“Did you wait long?”

Alesia returned.

Her outfit was a plain activity wear commonly worn by men.

The excessively baggy brown top hinted she intentionally chose a larger size to accommodate her bust.

Adding a red sash that extended to her waist made it slightly stylish.

“Nope. There was plenty to observe.”

“Is there anything worth observing here?”

“There are people, buildings, structures—all sorts of things. Every single one has its own stories and circumstances, right?”

For instance:

“The effort and manpower that went into constructing this church building. Their sweat, labor, and time combined to create this place. The same goes for those statues over there.”

“…You’ve always been observant.”

“Huh?”

“Most people focus only on the surface and visible aspects, rarely delving deeper into the inner meanings.”

“Oh…”

Cariel had merely voiced random thoughts but seemed to have been misunderstood.

“Thank you for the compliment.”

“You don’t need to thank me. Calling good things good isn’t something to be grateful for.”

…Really.

Alesia is a good person.

“…”

Holy Maiden Hermine.

From what he heard, she was often regarded as an unparalleled, noble, and divine presence, unmatched in the world.

Also, the kindest being imaginable.

To him, she seemed impossibly distant.

Every time he observed Alesia, he couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast between reality and idealism.

To avoid showing any discomfort from this disparity:

Cariel often chose silence and a steady smile.

Someone once said preparing for a festival is part of the celebration itself.

Exiting the church and returning to the city, laughter echoed wherever crowds gathered.

Children’s bright, eager eyes made his lips almost soften involuntarily.

Remembering something Luke introduced him to yesterday, he tossed a fruit with a wink.

Somewhere, the rhythmic sound of hammering indicated temporary stages being set up.

Kids played, colorful flower baskets adorned moving carriages.

Some worked tirelessly cleaning the streets for the big day.

Others practiced singing, only to receive gentle critiques from passersby.

‘Everything.’

Was vibrant and peaceful.

Taking calm breaths, he followed the scenes until dusk fell, feeling contentedly chased by the fading light.

---