344 - Regressor of the Fallen Family

Chapter 344 "The monster subjugation has been completed, Commander." "Very well." Harman, who had been gazing at the setting sun, nodded at his lieutenant's report. After staring intently at the burning red sunset, he turned his head to look northeast. Noviens, where he truly belonged, was a distant place from here. "…There was no need for you to personally come here, Commander. The Kingdom of Gaia could have handled it on their own. Why did you—" The lieutenant's words weren't wrong. Beyond the empire's border, to the south. There had indeed been a monster near the southernmost end of the Gaia Kingdom, adjacent to the southern mountains. A rare high-level monster, the Chimera. While it was undoubtedly a threatening beast, the deployment of a single hero of the kingdom or a group of four or five elite knights would've sufficed. It wasn't an issue severe enough to warrant the dispatch of the Paladin Commander of the Holy Order. "There are rumors that His Holiness the Pope is cautious of you…." "Enough. It's disrespectful to His Holiness." "…Yes." Although the reply was forced, dissatisfaction was clear on the face of Lieutenant Ryan Harper. The eliteness of the Holy Order's Knights, who prided themselves as the world's strongest order, wielding God's will, was being tested on this remote frontier, so his discontent was understandable. However, Harman's views slightly differed. "We, who must deal with God's adversaries, focusing solely on the safety of Noviens was stranger. Handling monsters, dealing with threats—this, I believe, aligns more with our true purpose. I'm sure that's what His Holiness intended." "Commander…" As Ryan observed Harman's troubled expression, he quietly laughed. He wasn't naïve either. How could he not know that the new Pope sought to keep him in check? Yet, it was still within a range he could understand. 'The Order needs a new symbol. If my temporary absence from the center allows His Holiness to shine, then it's a bearable situation.' For the divine will of the Nine Gods to be fully known to the world, the Order needed a unified system. Unlike his predecessor, who was more concerned with personal wealth and glory, Pope Austin was worth trusting in bringing forth the will of God earnestly. That was Harman's reasoning. Of course, there were matters that troubled him. "Any news of the Saintess?" "Yes? I informed you not long ago…." "Nothing has changed?" "Yes, that's right. But why are you so concerned?" "Hmm? Is it odd?" "No, it's just... you usually don't involve yourself in Church politics." "Politics… Is that your assumption?" Seeing Harman's furrowed brow, Ryan realized he had misspoken. To label a matter publicly declared by the Church as political. His face turned pale as he hurriedly waved his hands. "N-No, I didn't mean to doubt the Church. It's just that the situation seems perplexing… But I would never, ever doubt the Church!" From Ryan's repeated denials, Harman realized how others might perceive him. "It's alright." "Really?" "There's no issue with expressing one's thoughts. As long as it doesn't distort and misrepresent God's intent, it applies to both the Church and individuals." Ryan was momentarily confused but then hesitated and spoke again. "…Even if my thoughts contradict the Church's will?" "Yes." Ryan's expression went blank at that response. This situation felt awkward. "Weren't you strict in… such matters?" Harman lightly chuckled at the remark. Even the former Pope had been wary of him. As a result, his aides in the Holy Order frequently changed every half-year or so, attributed to his rigid and finicky nature. It's only been eight months since Ryan became his aide. In that time, much had happened, making it understandable why it would be challenging to grasp his character. 'I had never intended to defy the Church's laws.' The former Pope, that conman, was laughably timid. In the end, that conman received his rightful punishment. That too was the guidance of the Nine Gods. "Strictness is enough when upholding the doctrine. The Church exists to spread the doctrine and lead by example, not to misinterpret it. If criticism is reasonable and not blasphemous slander, it should be accepted." Harman brought his fist to the nine concentric circles engraved on his armor and swore by them. The image built over a long time wasn't something words alone could dismantle; thus, he affirmed it with a vow to God. Fortunately, Ryan's complexion brightened at that. "Then you won't have me decapitated or my limbs severed…?" Harman almost stumbled at those words. It seemed the rumors had spread more absurdly and strangely than he imagined. "…Is there such a rumor?" "Y-Yes. I always believed it to be nonsense. Truly!" At Ryan's awkward response, Harman couldn't help but let out a dry laugh. 'I should gradually change it.' For now, however, his interests lay more in what Ryan had previously mentioned. "That's enough. Now, politics—do most view the Saintess's declaration as such?" Harman's grim image was partly due to his dedication to self-discipline and training, with little regard for communication. Resolved to change, Harman waited for Ryan's answer. "…Yes. Honestly, it felt so sudden and strange. The Saintess is the one who aided Pope Austin in revealing the false Pope's true nature. And now, to declare that such a person is fake, it’s bound to cause confusion." "So, do you believe His Holiness removed the Saintess to secure his position? Is that why you call it politics?" Ryan's expression stiffened at that question. Seeing Ryan's eyes dart around, it seemed he was wondering if he should answer truthfully. But mustering courage, he nodded. "Yes. Frankly, it makes it easier to understand it that way." "Is that the majority opinion?" "Yes, it is." "…I see. Of course." Harman could not help but let out a deep sigh. For the Austin he knew was not such a person. It was all the more perplexing. 'Though power can change a person, could it happen so swiftly?' Though his desire to trust the new Pope momentarily scattered such premature conjectures, he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling. In such times, there was always one solution. 'I suppose tonight, too, must be spent in prayer and training.' --- "I offer this to the Nine Gods who govern the world." Under the moonlit night, Kneeling on bare ground without even a makeshift altar or icon, Harman felt the divine power within him, sensing the gods had answered his prayers. A feeling as if his heart had been cleansed with pure water. Now it was time to purify the body. Swish. Clink. With a soft draw, the beloved sword Purgatio emitted a clear sound, revealing its pristine white blade. Though it could not rival the sacred sword Poena, securely stored in the Church's depths, this cherished sword was also a holy relic, consecrated by a hundred high-ranking priests. As its divine energy subtly shone, it brought peace to Harman's mind. Tap. A gentle step forward. The sword gracefully followed his movement. As Purgatio reflected the moonlight, manifesting its divine light, the swordplay inspired by the dance to honor the Nine Gods painted a spectacle of radiant beauty across the dark field. An uncommonly clear mind. The sword, moving effortlessly according to his will, and the light it emanated, offered him a refreshing sense of liberation. 'Freedom in following the natural order.' A sword dance celebrating the joy found within adhering to God's will. As the dance reached its peak, his troubled mind found peace. As always, the prayer followed by training did not disappoint. Yet. 'The Saintess…' Just as Ryan had suggested, the Church's unfathomable conduct crept back in, unsettling him once more. After decades of corruption, the Church had finally found the right path. He had believed that following divine will and natural law would be rewarded. With a combination of a priest who lived a life of integrity and the true Saintess, surely this was feasible. But to see such behavior repeated? 'Your Holiness Pope Austin. Has your once pure devotion so swiftly succumbed to desire?' If indeed so, what was he to do? – The Holy Knights cannot meddle in Church politics. The law carved into his heart throughout his life weighed heavily upon him. Should he again remain silent, as he did when the previous Pope and his faction had disturbed the Church? The sincere voice from the days of the impeachment lingered in his mind, pleading for his help. – Commander of the Holy Knights, I request something of you with cardinal authority. – Commander, I beg of you… The Saintess then had undeniably retained a heart steadfast in her faith in God. Having observed Pope Austin for a long time, and the Saintess who had imparted certainty to his heart in an instant. These two figures clashed within him, disturbing his once serene heart. Whoosh. A discordant sound intruded upon the once graceful sword dance. A menacing force erupted wherever his sword struck. Earlier, the sword dance symbolized peace. This time, it signified fury. A manifestation of divine judgment upon those who defied God's will, the sword became a hammer of retribution on the dimly lit field. Shhh. As the sword cleft the air, everything caught in its path was sliced in two. Even the trees in the forest a good hundred meters away could not maintain their form. It was the essence of martial arts forged by his determination to punish anything against divine will. Backing this essence was the divine power granted to him by God. The continuous cycle of divine energy and force invigorated his every motion. Simultaneously. Crackle. Rumble. Everything his sword touched began to shatter into pieces. An incredible feat achieved with just a single sword, beyond belief. Yet the doer of this destructive miracle showed no intention of stopping. Despite everything around him being turned upside down and losing its original form, he intended to continue this sword dance until every ounce of fury and conflict within him was exhausted. Until someone intervened. – Sir Harman! Please stop! A distant voice. A high, clear voice he felt he had heard somewhere quelled his anger. And he soon recalled the owner of that voice. "Saintess?" The sword came to an abrupt halt. And several dozen meters away, a masked figure suddenly appeared. "H-How did you… from this distance… such unimaginable power…." With blood trickling down from his mouth, as if touched by the aftermath of the sword strike, the masked man's broken sword was visible. Harman's eyes flickered with interest as he assessed the masked figure, having pierced through the long distance to gauge the man's prowess. An unusual ability to heal wounds instantly was quite impressive. However. "Remarkable for your age, but…." The voice he heard moments ago was certainly not from this person. "…You need more than that to sneak up on me." He wondered if it was merely a trick of his mind. As Harman stared at the masked man with a hint of anger. – Please, wait a moment! With the voice he thought a fabrication, spatial distortion occurred behind the masked man, emanating a holy aura. It was an aura Harman couldn't possibly mistake, the familiar sensation of a divine barrier. It seemed that the masked man had been injured while trying to protect the barrier from Harman's sword strike. That was the impression Harman had. And the appearance of a woman who stepped out from within confirmed his intuition. "It’s unfortunate to meet under these circumstances, Commander Harman." The Saintess. At her unexpected appearance, Harman's eyes widened in surprise.