Chapter 96

“That would be a reasonable way to look at it. However, no matter how much of an Abbot you are, you can’t forcibly bring a Count’s heir here. At the very least, they must have come in on their own accord.”

Valenciaunos spoke as he walked through the first-floor hall of the cathedral.

“The problem is why they are unable to leave, or rather why they are not leaving. That would be it. It may not be related to the Infiltrator’s potion, but it seems unlikely that two new incidents would suddenly occur in this rural monastery, especially given that something from three years ago is still considered recent. No, it cannot be.”

His voice was filled with conviction.

It was a certainty born not from sudden insight but from long experience.

Matheos sometimes felt an atmosphere similar to that of Bishop Argos in those inhuman golden eyes and sunken cheeks.

Only a dogmatizer who strides forward with confidence, gained from exceptional abilities and numerous experiences, could possess such an aura.

A proud gaze filled with vigor, affection for those around him, and compassion.

“So what will you do now?”

It was a question asked out of genuine perplexity, but the answer he received only deepened that perplexity.

“We must pray and wait.”

That was a response from Valenciaunos that was utterly unimaginable.

The cathedral, built of black stone, was not structurally much different from a cathedral.

In the rectangular hall, long benches were arranged in four rows, with a podium facing stained glass, and beneath it stood several ornate reliquaries and a ring cross.

Perhaps due to the timing, the cathedral was completely empty.

Valenciaunos sat in the front row, clasped his hands in front of the ring cross.

Matheos blinked his black eyes and asked.

“Valencia, Your Excellency.”

“Yes, Saint.”

“Are you really praying?”

“Every clergyman I meet has instructed me to pray and repent; do you think differently, Saint?”

“No….”

“Thank you. Next time someone tells me something, I will say that you said I do not need to pray or repent.”

“God of Radiance.”

Matheos squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them.

Valenciaunos smiled coolly and shook his head.

“In truth, I was not praying.”

“I thought as much. Then what were you doing?”

“I was simply looking at the reliquaries. It amazes me that they are safe even when placed like that. I expected them to be hidden as deeply as the relics in the Imperial Palace.”

Matheos said calmly.

He was inwardly fearful of what Valenciaunos would say next.

“Is an Infiltrator going to climb over that city wall? Will they crawl up a cliff? Anyone inside the monastery would not dare to think of stepping onto that podium, and if they were worthy, they would not need to lay a hand on it first.”

“Then may I go up and open it?”

“!”

Matheos suddenly grabbed Valenciaunos’s wrist.

“Please don’t.”

“Your Excellency, you can permit me, can’t you? I might be a chosen warrior of the Holy Sword.”

“Yes. I could grant permission, but it would not be courteous to the Abbot. And I believe the God of Radiance has made many others candidates for the warrior before the Duke.”

“How many am I in line?”

“Making arbitrary judgments about a person is inappropriate, but it would be much quicker to count from the back.”

Valenciaunos could not deny this.

He had been a person far from a warrior, both before the Return and now.

Of course, as the prayer mentioned, the God of Radiance would sometimes cast shadows, be jealous, seek revenge, and be dogmatic, spilling blood that need not be shed.

However, the God of Radiance did not favor the cowardly or deceptive.

“Yes, I think so too.”

Valenciaunos looked around and, confirming that no one was present, effortlessly climbed onto the podium.

Matheos gasped and tried to catch his ankle, but Valenciaunos did not even look back and made his way forward toward the altar.

“Duke!”

The saint’s sincere shout erupted.

A sacred force intermingling black and white wrapped around him and surged upward.

“If you dare to lay your hands on the reliquaries… huh?!”

Valenciaunos opened the reliquary.

However, he did not pick anything up.

“Saint, I anticipated this.”

The reliquary was empty.

* * *

The black Saint Matheos looked at me with a bewildered gaze.

His stern face appeared even more pale against the black robes.

“What in the world were you thinking doing such a thing?”

I shrugged.

“I couldn’t just leave my doubts unattended, could I? I had to verify.”

“There is a thing called procedure in this world.”

“We’re the ones who create that procedure, so I don’t believe in it.”

“What kind of fallacious reasoning…!”

“Who took it, then?”

I showed Matheos the palm that had opened the reliquary.

It was deeply burned, red and swollen.

It was a body that could deflect considerable magic and block a mana blade when scaled.

“I performed a ritual of protection, and this is what happened. Under normal circumstances, an Infiltrator would be annihilated just by touching it. It was not the work of an outsider.”

“Then….”

“Yes, that’s correct. Someone inside the monastery, someone with quite considerable sacred power, took the sacred object. I don’t know if they took only the Holy Sword or something else, but in any case, it was an inside job.”

Matheos let out a deep sigh.

Though he seemed like a robust man carved from marble, for a brief moment, he appeared to revert to a past student.

“My Lord, why do you have me doubt my siblings? Though I know the saint’s mission is not to fight against unveiled evil but to reveal evil, this is truly painful.”

I tried to comfort him somehow.

Just then, I heard footsteps approaching.

“Are you here?”

Abbot Hans, with his neatly cropped hair and gentle demeanor, approached with monks, nuns, and holy knight candidates.

“These are all verified individuals. You can trust them.”

“I’m grateful for having people who shine like beacons amid the blight of doubt gnawing at me.”

Matheos welcomed them warmly.

I listened to their self-introductions, watching for any suspicious parts while they displayed their sacred powers.

They all had enough sacred power to open that reliquary.

“I am Sister Telera.”

“I am knight candidate Sira.”

“I am a monk priest Odan. I serve as the vice-abbot.”

However, being capable does not mean they had done it, and moreover, I could not dismiss the possibility that they were all in cahoots, so I could only wait.

Matheos explained the situation, and they conversed about the potion.

Everyone wore serious expressions, carefully pointing out individuals who might have received or used it.

“I find it difficult to speak carelessly, fearing a great internal conflict might arise.”

“I see. If such a problem has occurred within the monastery, the two Counts will certainly lead their armies again.”

“But if the Infiltrators have sent parcels, they must be caught.”

The conversation began to stall.

Feeling extreme fatigue and distaste, I opened my mouth.

Forget it.

Let’s just draw my sword and see their reactions.

“By the way…”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Priest Odan replied.

He was a middle-aged man well-suited for glasses, with a square jaw.

Yet the church respected secular statuses more than the Ivory Tower.

“Are the sacred items kept inside? I see there isn’t even a lock on the reliquary.”

Odan replied in a serious and proud voice.

“Why would a lock be necessary? The corrupted will burn their hands the moment they touch it.”

“That’s right. It hurt quite a bit for me.”

“Haha… huh?!”

I showed my palm.

Abbot Hans, Vice-Abbot Odan, Sister Telera, and several holy knight candidates gasped in unison.

“How could even a Duke do such a thing…!”

I interrupted Hans’s wail.

“I apologize. As a swordsman, my greed for the Holy Sword got the better of me.”

“This is not a phrase you use in such contexts!”

Matheos looked at me as if to say, what are you trying to do.

I spoke innocently like a hopelessly naive greedy person.

“But the inside was empty. Do you only bring out the sacred items for research elsewhere?”

Let’s see how they respond.

I inwardly anticipated their reactions.

Sister Telera hesitated and raised her hand.

“My work involves researching sacred items. I was just studying it in my room until a moment ago.”

“!”

That was an answer I had not anticipated.

Hans and Odan nodded their heads.

“Sister Telera. You didn’t bring it with you. Please make sure to take it next time.”

“I apologize.”

“You must be cautious when outsiders are present.”

Hans bowed his head to me and the saint.

“I apologize. Since this is a space only those familiar with know, there are times we become lax regarding these regulations. Sister Telera will receive appropriate punishment within the day.”

I waved my hand with a bitter smile, feeling a sense of defeat.

“I understand what you’re saying. I have caused you trouble.”

However, I continued, “Do you bring all the sacred items for research?”

I had opened only one reliquary, but they did not know that.

For the first time, Hans’s gaze wavered.

That was enough.

I could see Matheos squeezing his eyes shut.

* * *

The monastery’s dining room was tidy, and dinner was plentiful.

Valenciaunos savored various gourmet hams and cheeses that were hard to find even in the capital, elegantly sipping the monastery’s wine.

He tore apart bread made with dried figs, chewing on meat still dripping with blood.

“Excuse me, how high up are you?”

With a natural and graceful motion, a girl enchanted by his white hair and golden eyes approached him.

The blue-eyed young nun gasped, picked up the girl, and bowed to Valenciaunos.

She knew he was the biological sibling of the tyrannical emperor known in rumors.

“I’m sorry; she’s a girl who has only grown up indoors, so she doesn’t know proper etiquette… my apologies.”

Valenciaunos smiled like a carnivore and asked, “It’s alright. Children can be like that; you said she grew up indoors?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“I didn’t know the monastery also acted as an orphanage. A war orphan, is she?”

“Yes….”

“You too?”

“Yes, yes. That’s right.”

The war between the two Counts had continued for a long time, resulting in many victims.

“I wondered why there were so many children and young people in this enclosed monastery. Some places accept no more than a few outsiders each year, so the Abbot must be a good person.”

Valenciaunos’s eyes glimmered softly.

The young nun, who had her head bowed, could not see.

“Yes, he is a good person. He cares for all of us and has tried to mediate the conflict between the two Count families several times.”

“Alright, understood. You may go now.”

The young nun hurriedly backed away, taking the girl with her.

A voice warning that one must not approach such high-ranking individuals carelessly reached the sensitive ears of the superhuman and divine transcendents.

“Seeing that the child does not fear the higher-ups, I suppose he must be a beloved Abbot.”

“I didn’t expect a Duke to say such a thing.”

Black Saint Matheos finished his meal wearing a hood to conceal his stigmata.

Once it was known he was dining in the same place, no one would be able to eat.

The two seated across from each other momentarily stared into each other’s eyes.

Jet-black eyes met the inhuman yellow gaze.

While the yellow gaze was the first to look away, it was its owner who spoke first.

“Did you receive your meal well?”

After midday, Valenciaunos had roamed around the monastery, while Matheos had prayed in front of the altar for three hours.

The God of Radiance answered His son’s call and sent down a beam of light.

“……He told me it was the same as the mission He has given me: Burn everything under the church’s bell tower.”

Matheos hesitated and spat it out as if it were a confession.

His mission was that of the executioner, the hammer of the God of Radiance’s wrath.

“You understand what that means, don’t you?”

Valenciaunos asked coldly.

“Burn everything.”

Matheos mulled over that phrase, glancing around.

Laughing children, praying nuns and monks, holy knight candidates gulping down their meals, priests who have served God for a long time.

“At the very least, the top three here are definitely not children of the light but scumbags.”

“Duke.”

“I never thought I would hear myself say, ‘Do not doubt the Lord.'”

“Duke!”

“Since He commanded to judge by fire, may I do so in His stead?”

Valenciaunos’s pupils transformed, becoming vertically oval like a dragon.

Matheos immediately grasped his wrist.

Why.

“Why has He allowed His most faithful servants to change like this?”

Why.

“Why does He have me test my siblings? You sent me to punish evil, not to reveal it.”

Valenciaunos shook his head.

“To me, it seems quite evil.”

“!”

“But it appears that you, Saint, are suffering greatly from doubting your siblings. For you, I have prepared a gift.”

He spoke with a serpentine smile.

“I found a path behind the cliff. It’s beneath the bell tower. Shall we go?”

Matheos’s face lit up with joy.

The words he had longed to hear; hope.