Chapter 809

Chapter 52 Old Illness Unresolved, New Fire Ignited (Part 2)

It was—

A fiery red carriage, like the sunset, with a robust chestnut-colored horse pulling it, galloping out from the west side of the mountain slope onto the grassland. Far away, facing the morning sun, it gradually approached this side. Sharman’s pupils dilated for a moment. She instinctively stepped forward and moved closer to the window. After some thought, she fully pushed open the window. Her eyes were fixed on the carriage that stood out prominently. Shortly after, she saw clearly the banner fluttering at the top of the carriage.

It was a flowing emblem of burning flames.

The carriage soon stopped near the rice fields. Only then did Sharman suddenly realize that the elderly man who had been busy in the fields had disappeared without a trace. However, she faintly heard some noise coming from downstairs of the wooden house, as if someone was speaking, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying.

At the same time, after the carriage came to a halt, the driver wearing white clothes and a white top hat gracefully dismounted from the beast’s back. He quickly walked to one side of the carriage, raised his arm to lift the curtain, and bowed deeply in greeting.

Then, someone stepped down from the carriage.

She was dressed elegantly, her attire meticulous and sophisticated. She appeared to be around fifty years old, with an air of grace.

She wore a slightly unisex, even somewhat masculine, pure black dress adorned with gold winged collar, a red bow tie, straight black trousers without any creases. On her head, she wore a black round top hat, which also had a masculine style, but it was tied with beautiful silk flowers using bright red satin. The moment she stepped out of the carriage, standing under the sunlight, despite her age, she could still make the surroundings lose their color.

Sharman saw her standing straight in the wind, yet holding a jet-black cane with a somewhat peculiar design in her right hand. That cane was not equipped due to any disability. The woman adjusted her hat after getting off the carriage and walked a few steps towards the wooden house, her steps swift and steady—clearly not the gait of someone with a disability. She knew that such canes were called ‘civilized canes’ in some regions of Isembel, northward, and were symbols of gentlemen’s demeanor and status.

But these details were not important at this moment.

Sharman hesitated for a moment, quickly recalling something before immediately recognizing the cane. “Moon Blade, Night Curtain.”

She couldn’t help but murmur aloud, her eyes never leaving the elegant woman’s figure. Immediately, she recalled the powerful and ingenious weapon from the Central Workshop, and the name of its current owner.

“Starfall Rain, Magi Penny Hall Jones.”

Magi Penny Hall Jones, renowned in the previous era as ‘second only to one,’ a powerful high priest knight whose strength was second only to Saint Knight Ryan. It was said that she was temperamental and combative by nature, and enjoyed challenging other famous high priest knights when she was young. At twenty-four, she had no peers among her contemporaries. At twenty-six, she easily defeated the veteran Canglan Butterfly Apfel.

She spent nearly a decade challenging and defeating a total of sixteen high priest knights, slaying four abyssal creatures, and finally fell to the Saint Knight in his elder years at thirty-four. Since then, although people praised her as ‘second only to one,’ she must have found such titles unworthy, and thus disappeared from public view.

The head maid instantly understood who the person was upon seeing the cane, though she hadn’t expected that this reclusive powerhouse, rumored to have two sons, would appear here at this moment.

With her appearance, Sharman’s heart lifted slightly.

Since she came here, it meant—

The head maid couldn’t help but exhale softly. Upon seeing the woman enter the wooden house, someone greeted her downstairs; it was the Cardinal George, who had cleaned up and changed into simple linen clothing. His posture was casual, as if he were meeting an old friend or a familiar junior, nodding with a smile. Magi Penny removed her hat and gave him a respectful bow.

Afterward, the two exchanged a few words. Due to the distance and the strong wind, Sharman couldn’t hear clearly, but she saw that after their pleasantries, they didn’t enter the wooden house. The elderly cardinal patted Magi Penny’s shoulder and led her to the edge of the field, pointing to the rice paddies, seemingly showing off his hard work. Meanwhile, inside the wooden house, the steward ordered servants to bring out tables and chairs.

Is Starfall Rain the one both the queen and Cardinal George are waiting for?

Sharman couldn’t help but frown.

No, that’s not right—

She watched as the servants carried out a large round table, placing it among the flower beds outside, and continuously adding more chairs. Three, six, ten—the table was sufficiently large, and the number of chairs kept increasing. The servants were busy running back and forth, setting up chairs and bringing out pastries, fruits, and warm tea.

Clearly, this preparation was not for just one person. Soon after, another arrival confirmed Sharman’s guess.

When Cardinal George and Starfall Rain were already seated at the prepared round table, sipping tea and conversing, a second completely black carriage arrived from the mountain slope. The carriage looked like a rental model from Lagoms City, plain and unremarkable. However, when the carriage stopped, the person who emerged once again shocked Sharman.

“Why is Archbishop Pushius Hertington here too?”

As everyone knows, there are two archbishops in the Holy Church, renowned throughout the Western Continent, the most influential of whom are the most prominent.

The candidates for the position of the next cardinal, in terms of their achievements and the strength of their faith, were no less impressive than the current cardinal. Among them was Archbishop Ansheel, and the other was a man named Pushus, who had shed his clerical robes for plain clothes and entered Sharman’s sight.

Compared to Ansheel, this candidate for cardinal was much younger, reportedly only thirty-six years old. After Cardinal Nero returned to the embrace of the divine, he was expected to be officially elevated to cardinal before turning forty. Pushus might become the youngest cardinal in the history of the church. In recent years, his popularity among the people had subtly surpassed that of Ansheel. However, at present, he appeared at the hideout of the church’s sinners. Sharman naturally understood what this meant.

But then, things unfolded in ways that increasingly exceeded her expectations.

By noon, the third rhinoceros cart arrived, similarly black and rented. Unlike the previous times, this cart was followed by about ten riders on beasts, all wearing cloaks. Sharman could not identify these individuals, but from their swords, one long and one short, she could tell that they were somehow connected to the underground prison of the church.

The riders stopped in a distant, barren grassland, as if planning to camp there. The lead rhinoceros cart, however, pulled up beside a wooden shed near the house. Sharman saw someone get out of the cart—a man over forty with heavy armor, a fierce face, and a long scar running from his mouth to behind his right ear. She did not recognize him, but from the golden claw insignia on his chest, she could tell he was someone with real power in the underground prison. Upon arriving, he laughed heartily, carelessly pulling out a chair next to Saint George, and shouted loudly enough for everyone in the house to hear: “Hey! Just a few people here? Old George, this isn’t going to amount to much.”

Soon after, someone downstairs said something, and everyone burst into laughter.

As dusk approached, the fourth rhinoceros cart arrived.

At this point, the earlier guests had already left the round table. Perhaps the burly man from the underground prison had taken off his armor and was working in the rice fields with an elderly person. Maggie Penny had ridden off somewhere, apparently wanting to hunt some game for dinner. Archbishop Pushus, tired from the long journey, was resting and reading in the room. Sharman had met him once before; he seemed like a very gentle person.

In the makeshift camp on the distant lawn, the campfire had lit up, and the noise could be heard from far away. Sharman was tidying up in her room, feeling that the originally tranquil place had suddenly become quite noisy, unsettling her.

Just then, she glanced out the window and saw the arrival of the fourth rhinoceros cart.

The cart, with its green and white stripes and wooden carved wheels, did not seem to be Ethanbel’s style. It was likely from Silgaya, driven by a young woman dressed simply, as if she had disguised herself deliberately. However, her aura of sanctity could not be concealed.

Was she another person from the church?

The head maid thought so, and then she saw a figure step down from the cart—a water-blue bob haircut. *Sigh.*

She took a deep breath, trying to suppress her inner turmoil. It was none other than the Holy Maiden Margaret.

As the sunset turned yellow and dim, the light outside was somewhat unclear, but Sharman didn’t need to confirm the face to recognize her—this was undoubtedly Holy Maiden Margaret.

Unlike before, those accompanying the Holy Maiden were not the usual white-robed, serious and proper Holy Maiden’s attendants, but several people riding rhinoceroses, their faces hidden under cloaks, wearing strange masks like foxes, wolves, or bears, and their identities unknown.

Sharman was highly sensitive to such secretive figures who liked to hide in the shadows. She instinctively felt alert. They didn’t seem to be from the church.

Who were these people?

“Owls,” Queen’s voice came from behind her.

“They are Owls, the highest law enforcement agency of the Holy Church. An organization never seen in public.”

The head maid turned abruptly. She hadn’t noticed when the Queen had entered the room. Since lunchtime, the Queen had been in the room prepared by Saint George on the third floor. She hadn’t summoned Sharman again, leaving her alone to feel some premonition of today’s events in this remote and desolate place.

At this moment, she saw that the Queen had changed out of her morning loungewear into a dress that wasn’t particularly extravagant but radiated brilliance, her loose golden hair tied up. Her face was bare of makeup, yet her beauty still stunned Sharman—who as the Queen’s personal maid, was unaware when she had changed into this dress.

“Your Majesty,” the head maid tried to clear her mind of the many thoughts and bowed her head again. “Alright, most of the people have arrived.”

She heard the Queen’s indifferent yet clear voice, and then felt a hand land on her shoulder: “Come, you and I will go meet them together.”

At this moment, she guessed what the Queen intended to do. Her whole body trembled slightly.