Chapter: 215

When racing at full speed, a horse is never a comfortable mount. Each time its hooves struck the ground, the shock surged up through the spine, dispersing concentration.

On that uncontrollable ride, as one clung to the horse’s neck, the repeated impacts quickly caused the brain to lose its sense of direction. Horses are living beings, and it isn’t easy to direct them in the desired direction.

The sound was drowned out by the fierce wind and the continuous pounding of hooves, and conversations between each other were reduced to shouts or shrieks. Unlike the knights who moved with hand signals, there was no reason to do so.

Overcoming all those challenges while maintaining the right judgment and posture is horsemanship. In fact, the party’s horsemanship was already being honed through life-and-death struggles in Tylesse.

“Rear!! Cavalry!!”

“Numbers!!”

“30! Respond?”

“Ignore that much! What about you?”

“Behind! Breaking through…! No, broke through!”

Then, bang. With a thunderous explosion, a knight flew through the air. The pursuing knights turned their heads in unison toward the rear.

It was already afternoon, and a man riding a horse against the sun was coming into view. The horse, frothing white, was galloping toward them, panting heavily.

In one hand, a man was gripping an axe, and in the other, he held a cavalry spear that seemed to have been taken from somewhere. He was glaring at them with his whole body drenched in blood.

“Don’t be afraid.”

Ivan whispered, patting the neck of the kicking horse. The only one you should fear is the human sitting on top of you, not the scarecrows in front of you. Emphasizing that.

The knights split into two paths. Another shock hit, and three people fell off their horses. Ivan, having seized two swords, spun them in the air and threw them.

“Sir!!”

“Run!! Go a day’s distance from the palanquin!!”

“Yes!! Definitely! See you at the Papal Enclave!!”

Isabelle shouted with a bright face and kicked her horse hard. Ivan moved to lure the knights away from her and the others.

Even if it was determined that they had to chase after the Saint, the knights had no other choice. They couldn’t pursue with that man behind them.

Isabelle glanced at Ivan, who had disappeared far away, and then turned her head.

She would believe as always.

At least in the midst of battle, her scout had never once betrayed her trust.

After achieving the highest results one person could, he would return, once again bloodied, and say, ‘I’m back.’ Just like that, with a blank face.

So, she would trust him as she always had.

Creek.

Worrying to the point her hands were white-knuckled on the reins, yet forcing a smile as if to laugh, Isabelle kicked her horse once more.

Yes, heroes must always smile. She thought.

*

After that, the party did not encounter any pursuers. She tried to stifle thoughts like how they could become a strategic target larger than the Saint.

After two days of galloping, they reached the plains, and after that two more days. Running as far as possible from the main road.

Even when the horse collapsed from exhaustion and they had to find their way on foot, the party moved forward without a word.

For them, the time without a pursuing force was akin to the time a man had to endure alone on the battlefield.

They couldn’t complain. Running blindly was clearly easier than fighting for their lives.

“Arrived….”

Elpheira murmured with dry lips. The party exhaled hot breaths while staring at the white outer fortress of the city beyond the main road.

“Papal Enclave. Lux Sanctus Orbis… I wonder how long it has been since I last came here.”

“There are a lot of people…?”

“Isn’t there a council taking place? It’s a ceremony that happens only once a century, so it’s no surprise there are many pilgrims.”

Elpheira stood up, her trembling legs struggling to support her, and the party followed her.

The journey to this point was a secondary issue. What was truly important was the outcome of the council that would occur now.

“Just a moment, Saint.”

“Yes?”

“It sounds a bit funny to bring this up now, but….”

Oscar continued, surveying the densely packed masses and the towering castle walls, under which heavily armed soldiers wandered.

“If things go wrong… can we get out?”

“If we missed the date of the council, it might be tricky, but as it stands, it’s possible. Don’t worry too much. Even in the worst case, escaping shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Hmm….”

“Eh, anyway, what happens inside will likely be a theological debate. And most theological discussions can’t be resolved in a day because they deal with things that need to be proven logically rather than as facts.”

When such debates occurred, the church had to receive the judgment of the Pope, who held the power to maintain order.

And the power to maintain order that the church recognized was fairly divided between the Pope and the Saint.

“Even if opinions clash, it’s hard for the believers to side with one. It won’t conclude in an instant, so from here on, it’s a war of stamina. Wait patiently while eating and resting in a good place!”

The Saint moved forward with a confident smile. Believers and soldiers who recognized her immediately bowed and opened the way, and she gently smiled, as if saying ‘See?’ as she entered the Papal Enclave along the main road.

*

Ivan moved his stiff arms and changed direction. After drawing the pursuers away from Isabelle’s group for about half a day, he turned back after creating sufficient distance.

The night sky was studded with sparkling stars. Ivan trudged along, the cavalry spear he had picked up slung over his shoulder.

The Saint had likely already arrived at the Papal Enclave, and it must have been past the first day of the council. Even with a day spent shaking off pursuers, there was no way he couldn’t arrive on time.

So, that meant he could afford to take some time to recover his strength. The pursuers chasing him were probably spending their time searching through the false tracks he left.

Phew.

Intense fatigue pressed down on one side of his head. Though the knights were a bit lesser compared to Tylesse, a knight was still a knight. He couldn’t outrun the knights without taking losses on horseback.

Even if he replaced the blood with potions, there was no help for fatigue. Having gone almost four days without sleep had left his head spinning.

Once he reunited with the party, he would likely be able to rest his eyes for a bit. Ivan moved forward, gazing at the distant white castle walls.

The white walls of the Papal Enclave glittered in the moonlight…

“Smoke…?”

It was burning.

*

Inside the chaotic castle, pilgrims were running and screaming. Their frenzied forms, brandishing torches as they dashed around, seemed to indicate they were searching for someone…

“Find the fallen Saint!!”

If they were looking for the Lord instead, it would have been better, thought the heretic with a deep sigh.

Searching meant that something had been lost. That was, they hadn’t caught her yet. He was quite curious how such a situation had developed in just one day.

“Excuse me.”

“Fallen— what, wait?!”

One pilgrim almost scolded Ivan but then closed his mouth upon seeing him. With his entire body covered in dried blood and a spear stained with blood draped over his shoulder, this pilgrim was way too sensitive to scold him.

“What, what is the matter?”

“May I ask just one thing? What’s all this commotion about?”

“Did you just arrive?”

“Yes. I barely escaped after meeting some bandits.”

“O….”

Even if he was to say he was returning after slaying robbers, the pilgrim swallowed hard and spoke politely.

“The Saint… Urgh! Lord, forgive my mouth. That witch reportedly has fallen!”

“…Why…?”

“Why would I know? The Lord took away the light from the world in rage against the fallen witch and her minions, so the priests have lost their power!”

“…So that witch and her minions…?”

“They burned the walls with some bizarre spell and fled! They can’t be too far away. Be sure to look for them. His Holiness has placed a bounty on her, so even if it’s a mercenary, it will be worth money!”

“Understood. I will.”

Ivan lightly nodded and was about to leave when he suddenly asked.

“Oh, one more question.”

“What is it?”

“I heard a council was held, how did you come to know that the Saint has fallen? Isn’t it the same for His Holiness, who has lost his sanctity?”

“How can you speak such blasphemy…!!”

The man nearly erupted in anger but then swallowed hard upon seeing the bloodstains on Ivan’s spear and replaced it with a more polite demeanor.

He tried his best to logically teach this blasphemous outlaw. In the manner of a devout believer.

“That witch dared to speak of ‘falling’ to His Holiness. At the council, you see. But it was already known to His Holiness, so the answer was simple.”

“Simple…?”

“His Holiness prayed for that witch’s fall…!!”

The man was flustered and crossed himself repeatedly. He then cautiously continued to speak in a reverent tone.

“The Lord answered him…. The Spirit descends; that radiance shall illuminate all creation. Oh, Lord.”

“Answered…?”

“That was a miracle…! As the radiant light shone, the seated one stood up, the servant’s eyes opened, and the wounded were healed…. Oh, it must mean that only His Holiness was satisfactory in the eyes of the Lord, right?”

“Used sanctity…?”

Ivan quietly lowered his head.

Veolgrin’s scheme was perfect. He had disrupted the heavens, separating the gods’ world from that of humans. Now no god could intervene in this land.

The state of Eugene’s status window being broken was the biggest proof. There’s nothing that proves the severance with the gods more than that.

In a world like this, he had used sanctity…? Ivan reflexively inspected his body.

There were traces of sanctity lingering in his body. Very faint, as it had been entirely used for healing, but those traces remained certain.

‘An existence capable of using sanctity without begging the celestial gods is….’

Ivan closed his eyes to organize his thoughts before nodding. Things have become complicated.

“Thank you.”

“It was nothing. If there’s nothing more to ask, I will now….”

The man blinked in astonishment as he was trying to reply to this stoic mercenary. In the spot where that man stood just a moment ago, there was nothing.

He rubbed his eyes repeatedly and then shouted in horror.

“It’s the witch’s sorcery!!!”

*

Finding traces in the darkness was something that no one in this nation could do better than him. Even if it were the Pope who still possessed sanctity, it would be the same, regardless of whose sanctity it was.

Thus, when Ivan discovered the traces of his party and followed them, they were camping in the forest covered in blankets.

“Patricia.”

“…!!”

At his voice, Isabelle and Oscar, who had instinctively drawn their swords, quickly got up with broad smiles.

“Sir!!”

“Wait.”

Ivan pushed away the charging Isabelle and approached the Saint. She looked up at Ivan with tired eyes, her body weary.

Under the blanket, trembling hands were visible. Not from shock or fear, but from anger.

Beneath her grim eyes, there were traces of unquenchable rage and hatred.

“Brother.”

“I’ve heard the story.”

“Lucius…. That man…!!”

The Saint bit her lip and glared at Ivan. When Ivan sat down, she spoke to him with burning eyes.

“I’ve allied with the Seven Dragon Lords…!!”

“Probably yielded to the Seven Dragon Lords.”

Both of them said the same thing simultaneously. The Saint’s face then twisted as she dropped her head.

There are no gods in this land anymore. Yet, those who hold sanctity still live and breathe.

Those who have become gods themselves. Those absolute beings who hold concepts….

If the very concept of ‘sanctity’ had been completely erased, then the curse of the Seven Dragon Lords wouldn’t have remained. Yet Ivan still felt that all food tasted like sand.

The sanctity bestowed by the celestial gods had surely been severed. This must be true because Veolgrin had guaranteed it.

However, during the battle in Kalion. Even after Veolgrin had shaken the heavens, sanctity still remained within Ivan’s body. Fragments of the Senasgeor. That meant that in this land, there were still gods who lived, who had lived, and who continued to live.

“Do you know who it is?”

“Lamerics of the Veil. That man is undoubtedly it.”

“Of all the people.”

“Yes, of all the people!!”

The Saint ground her teeth and growled. The Pope, the parent of all believers and the protector of faith.

How dare he submit to the god of sensuality.

As a fellow believer of the same church, this was the utmost disgrace.

With trembling hands, the Saint grasped Ivan’s hand.

“Brother. I must go back. I cannot allow such corruption to go unaddressed in this land.”

“No. That would be a hasty decision.”

There was no Seven Dragon Lords in Orbis right now. The Seven Dragon Lords are not beings that can mask their presence. If Lamerics had been in this area, anyone would have felt his presence.

The Seven Dragon Lords could shatter the laws of the world just by their existence. They couldn’t easily step outside their realm. Because their overflowing aura corrupts the world.

Thus, there are none in Orbis right now. It would be useless to invade Orbis right now. Even if they assassinated the Pope, it would be the same.

The Pope would become a martyr, and all believers in this world would worship the Pope and begin a crusade. Such an outcome must be prevented.

“We must go to Equitania. Patricia. We need to gather the intentions of those scoundrels in one place.”

“And after that? How long can we hold on? In this situation where the five countries of the Southern Six Nations have turned their backs on us…!”

“After that, we strike the Seven Dragon Lords right in front of everyone.”

So, he was grateful. In this endless cycle where the Seven Dragon Lords would kill a member of the Hero Party, at least this time, the enemy had revealed their hand first.

A trap is where the enemy’s power concentrates. If you have enough confidence in victory, stepping into the enemy’s trap can be a good strategy.

Ivan firmly grasped the Saint’s hand covering his hand.

“So rise. It’s too early to give up. I swear, you will not die today.”

Looking into Ivan’s blue eyes, lit by the moon, the Saint quietly withdrew her hand and nodded.

EP34. Universal Council.

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