Chapter 101

The saint performed a miracle that combined the powers of purification and healing. The corruption had progressed so deeply that he revived those who should have died from it.

“How… did you do that?”

“Everything is by the will of the God of Radiance.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much!”

“Please make sure to end the war.”

He was the eldest son of Baron Antares and was soon to be in a romantic marriage with the eldest daughter of the Dorchaesis family; he was the one who would end the Thirty Years’ War.

I lay there in the spring rain and then unsteadily got to my feet. Knowing the situation, I had something I needed to say.

“I am Valenciaunos. You must have heard my name at least once?”

“Ah! Yes, yes. Duke Your Highness.”

“Do you know that knights and administrative officers from the imperial court are coming to help with the peace negotiations?”

“Yes. The grace of His Majesty the Emperor reaches the heavens…”

“Go tell them to stop that. Go tell that knight in the blue that our war is over, we will start developing the mines this year, and that we will deliver the amounts as promised to the imperial court.”

“Yes?”

“Your father and father-in-law are about to die together. Our original plan was to kill those two and force you both into marriage. But since you’re planning to marry and end the war, there’s no need to kill them now.”

“!”

His face hardened.

I needed to give him some sort of proof so that the knights in blue would believe my words. I rummaged through my clothes and pulled out the handkerchief that Rudi had embroidered for me.

It was a luxurious handkerchief made from a famous tailor in the capital and had my initials engraved on it, so the knights would likely recognize it.

“Go. The stable is that way.”

He bowed his head repeatedly to me and Matheos and then ran toward the stable.

Now the problem on that side was clearly out of my hands.

If it was meant to die, it would. If it was meant to live, it would.

I sent the heir of the baron away and looked over at Matheos.

He was purifying each of the children who had collapsed from the psychic waves.

“I will send the children in first. Please let them rest well until tomorrow.”

“Understood. If anyone shows any abnormal symptoms, we will bestow the grace of purification.”

“They will likely dream nightmares for a while. It may not be related to the corruption, but still, please continue to bestow your grace to the extent that they do not become addicted to it.”

“Is there any doubt? We will serve with all our heart.”

I gave instructions for follow-up actions.

“I will go to the baron tomorrow to bring laborers for the collapsed cathedral.”

“No. Tomorrow our holy knight cadets will take care of the construction. The engineering unit has recently learned this, and the soil and stones from this ‘Waves’ are easy to work with, so we should be able to rebuild within a week.”

“Then I will help as well.”

I managed to draw on their voluntary participation.

“There is a cave below, which was the base of the infiltrators. They killed Abbot Odan and Sister Telera, and disguised themselves as them.”

“My goodness.”

“They operated within the monastery using magic tools that utilized the powers of the ancient ones, and their objective was to corrupt or steal the holy sword and holy objects. I destroyed the magic tools, and they were dealt with by me and Duke Valenciaunos.”

“Sister Telera… ugh…”

The saint shouldered the painful truth alone.

Matheos approached the giant crow that had fallen.

The identity of the gigantic crow, made of white bones and black feathers without a shred of flesh, was Odan, the strict priest and abbot.

Only Matheos and I knew that it was him now and in the future.

Transformed Odan had hit his wings and torso directly with my flames and had crashed sideways onto a building roof.

He seemed to have stopped his slight struggles after seeing the heir of the baron charge out on horseback.

Endless rain poured from his crimson eyes.

It looked as if tears were flowing in his stead.

Matheos said nothing and exerted divine power.

The white flames coldly yet fervently burned Odan.

Sister Telera followed after him.

The sister, who had an impression of wisdom and curiosity, was still wearing her nun’s habit after her transformation.

Normally, an infiltrator would writhe in immense pain and die upon being touched by divine power.

But the dark saint bestowed upon them a death that resembled a gentle slumber.

Some of the monks who didn’t know the situation looked at him quizzically.

However, it was Matheos, who had a cold impression that made it difficult to speak with him.

Seeing his sorrowful and hardened black eyes and the way he moved, not minding that his splendid ceremonial robe was soaked in rain, no one could bring themselves to say anything to him.

While he captured everyone’s attention, I took it upon myself to do what I needed to.

I grabbed Abbot Hans by the collar and entered the cathedral to begin searching for the holy objects.

* * *

The abbot’s room was shattered, and rain poured in, but the insides remained unharmed because the cathedral was so large.

After closing several corridor doors while going between the first and second floors, I had perfectly cut off the inside from the outside.

“I can breathe.”

After rolling around and getting soaked, it felt like I could breathe a little once inside the warm cathedral with flames flickering in the fireplaces.

However, there was no time for leisure, and my body was not in a state for it, so I shouted at the dazed Abbot Hans.

“Tell me which floor and where Sister Telera’s room for studying the holy objects is.”

He weakly raised his arm like an undead and pointed to a room on the third floor.

“Lead the way.”

I couldn’t take the lead in case something might jump out, and I was too exhausted to do so.

Fortunately, the transformed holy knight cadets must have been handled by the saint, as the inside of the cathedral was tidy.

Even until we opened the door to the end room on the third floor.

Squeak.

With a sound that was ominous enough to hear, the door opened and revealed the study of the sister who had been researching the holy objects.

The room itself was a normal square room like other annexes of the cathedral, but the books on the shelf were special.

Bound with leather and metal, and thin high-quality wooden boards for the covers, those books were forbidden tomes that couldn’t be obtained even for a fortune from the outside.

If dark wizards or elders of the Ivory Tower’s Black School saw them, they would have seriously planned a heist.

Indeed, it was a monastery.

I turned my gaze to the desk.

Telera must have been researching something until today, as there was a partially filled research notebook and an ink bottle with a quill inside.

She must have used that research to control the power of corruption.

I repeated to myself that I had to take it and turned my eyes.

Inside a glass case on the desk were items radiating a faint aura.

Well-worn wooden rosary beads, a cheap silver ring that seemed to have 10% silver content.

A half-broken shinbone, a mummified hand, a wooden staff with cracks at the tip.

A long braid of hair without a single jewel or silk thread braided in, a bundle of bandages with burn marks, a cracked tin cup.

Lastly, a simple longsword with a plain wooden handle and a scabbard wrapped in uncolored brown leather, which looked like it was made by a blacksmith from a small fief attached to a knight or baron.

Many saints lived lives far removed from wealth and glory.

Like the fire saint Harris, who was blessed with an abundance of grace, some suffered eternal torment by worldly standards.

Such items or remains that were used by such individuals would not appear extraordinary.

However, I could swear that that sword without a single jewel or ornament was on par with Jeilliris’ holy sword “Crystal Mirror.”

That sword was undoubtedly the holy sword “Eternal.”

“Abbot Hans.”

“Your Highness. I am no longer the abbot. I am not even a disciple of the God of Radiance, just a mere sinner.”

“You’ve been excommunicated.”

That was the natural outcome.

It was miraculous that he was still alive.

If this had been the Matheos of before my return, he would have killed him as soon as he burned the infiltrators.

“Can you draw that sword?”

To my surprise, I got an immediate answer.

“I cannot.”

“That’s unexpectedly calm.”

“I could not draw it even when I was still the abbot. A holy sword will only reveal itself to someone who genuinely wishes to drive back evil with a pure heart.”

“Then I won’t be able to draw it either.”

He continued,

“I was originally a candidate for the holy knights. Every time I see the holy sword, I feel regret. Now that I have become a sinner with a rotting inside, even just touching it would cause me to burn to death.”

I turned my body toward the bookshelf and replied nonchalantly.

“Make sure to do your confession before you die. I’m not a priest, after all; I’m a duke.”

Crash!

Just then, a sound of glass breaking suddenly rang out.

I turned around in shock and was even more startled to see a figure coming in through the broken window.

The hooded figure wore robes very similar to a monk’s aside from the high, flat helmet, but it had raven-like wings on its back.

“You!”

Seeing the surprise on former Abbot Hans’s face, it seemed they knew each other.

Oh yes, thinking about it, there was something strange.

Those who had lived their lives solely as monks wouldn’t easily choose the option of entering contracts with the ancients, even if surrounded by forbidden tomes.

It wouldn’t be easy to bring the living wounded here, especially with the undead wandering around everywhere.

Someone had helped them.

The infiltrator priest.

Those skilled enough to match a sword expert with martial prowess equivalent to ones trained as sword experts,

“Damn!”

I swore as I raised my scales in preparation to attack, but the figure did not attack me.

It simply snatched a notebook with its left hand from the desk, broke the glass display case with its right, and clutched a handful of holy objects, including the holy sword Eternal, as it prepared to leap back out the window.

I realized I had made a grievous miscalculation and bitterly smiled.

There was no need for it to attack me.

“Pierce sharply…!”

Trying to chant through the headache, I felt blood gushing from my nose.

At that moment, former Abbot Hans moved.

With surprisingly skilled movements, he grasped the hilt of the holy sword.

The priest held the sheath of the holy sword, and Hans stepped back to draw the holy sword.

He seemed to assume it wouldn’t be pulled out and was trying to yank it.

Swoosh—

An unexpected sound erupted.

The blade of the holy sword “Eternal” had met the wind after decades, perhaps even centuries.

The once rusted, darkened blade began to glow with a soft white light.

“Eh?”

It looked as if the darkness within the infiltrator’s hood was writhing.

I could only see Hans’s back, so I had no idea what expression he wore.

Hans stepped forward and swung the holy sword.

The beautifully arcing trajectory of the holy sword severed the right hand of the infiltrator priest.

Rosary beads, rings, braided hair, etc., fell to the floor in a heap.

“Kuh!”

After losing an arm, the infiltrator priest let out a groan as he slammed against the window sill.

“Piercing sharp flames!”

Finally, I completed the chant and launched a spear-like stream of fire.

My flames pierced through its waist, and it, which had flown up to the cliff, plummeted down 400 meters.

‘I got it… but it’s still not certain. First, I need to call a wyvern to confirm.’

What surprised me even more was something else.

“Hans! How…? Ah.”

He was a warm-hearted man with a strong will.

The abbot descended from the ranks of the holy knight candidates.

Before a disaster that could stop the war, he contemplated what needed to be done.

He was likely a user of the holy sword, whose actions would not be recorded.

His whole body was enveloped by gentle and soft white flames.

“I have protected the holy objects… against the saint…”

Miracles always come with a price.

* * *

The cathedral was restored, and knights were sent to guard against after-the-fact issues from the church of Baron Antares. A few reputable older novice priests who were slowly trying to enter the enclosing monastery volunteered as the new abbot.

The early spring sky was blue, and small flowers were beginning to bloom.

Saint Matheos presented a prayer in front of the new grave he had just erected in the monastery’s cemetery.

“And so, let him receive eternity in Your embrace.”

After the date of birth and death, the inscription read:

Hans.

Abbot of Alchenberg Monastery.

Third user of the holy sword “Eternal.”

The one who chose light after despair.

Matheos withdrew his excommunication from him.

As for those besides me, since I had never disclosed it in the first place, it felt inappropriate to say that it was withdrawn.

“May they all receive eternity in Your embrace.”

Abbot Hans, Priest Odan, Sister Telera, an excellent scholar, and various other sisters, priests, and holy knight candidates had died.

They would all be recorded as heroes who died fighting the ancients.

“Duke Valen.”

The child who had spoken to me in the dining hall came over, awkwardly but politely bowing to greet me.

I returned his bow and looked at the child.

“What is it?”

“Can I become a knight if I train hard and pray?”

…Just like Konel or Jin, these days it seems children are not just children anymore.

The child seemed beautiful and intelligent, but he didn’t strike me as anyone who inherited power from noble blood.

I knew well that an ordinary human would have to put in tenfold the effort to become a knight, and I hated lies.

“I don’t know about being a knight, but you can certainly become a holy knight.”

He was surely accustomed to divine power, having spent much time in the monastery from a young age and showing sufficient determination.

It was something quite possible depending on his efforts.

The child quickly lowered his head, and in an instant, a smile of joy returned to his face.

“Thank you! I will definitely become a holy knight!”

“Do you want revenge?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Then I’m sorry.”

I said with a light smile.

“I’ll be the one to take revenge first.”

The child smiled back at me.

“Duke Valen.”

I heard Matheos’s voice.

It was time to return.

I looked towards him and said in a lowered voice to the child.

“The Duke of the Empire, Crown Prince Valenciaunos speaks. Be sure to become a splendid holy knight and rise to Solentalouon to follow by his side.”

The child seemed like he would genuinely come if I left some sort of token.

I tore off a gold button from my ceremonial robe and handed it over, then turned my body.

Matheos was waiting for me.

“What did you talk about?”

“I coaxed a future holy knight with a single button.”

“So you really are an infamous Bandit Duke.”

I descended the sloped path with the saint.

The holy knight candidate guarding the black gate saluted.

I returned the salute, passed through the gate, and headed towards the wyvern waiting below.

Matheos stopped for a moment and looked back.

The Matheos before my return was a man who never looked back.

His resentful voice had mercilessly suppressed those who used the stigmata and invoked the name of God.

At the heart of that life lived, he was able to quell numerous infiltrators, guarding the land in place of Jeilliris.

I needed that saint.

However, I tragically understood his actions.

Attempts to stop the war had brought about the corruption, and the unexpected miracle had halted it.

The fact that a Duke of the Empire had solved issues thanks to a miracle was itself problematic.

However, today, I felt fortunate that I had not encountered a situation where I would have to behead the two barons along with the Order of the Blue Knights.

It was absurd, frustrating, and resentful, and above all, sad, to be in a position where good intentions gathered to yield nefarious outcomes.

I quietly swallowed a sigh and exaggeratedly smiled, saying,

“Now then, let me teach you 36 aerial maneuvers that are good to know when riding a wyvern.”

Matheos’s face turned ashen.