402 - Regressor of the Fallen Family

Chapter 402 “To my Lord, who watches over the world, I dedicate all glory.” A clear, melodious voice quietly resonated through the empty room. As soon as the words concluded, a sacred blue light cascaded down over the head of a silver-haired woman kneeling in prayer. The blue light, streaming in through a small hole in the ceiling of the prayer room, was so radiant that it seemed visible to everyone nearby. – Ah! – Oh, divinity! – Your Holiness the Pope! Voices of astonishment erupted from outside the prayer room. As prayer voices began one by one, soon the surroundings of the prayer room were filled with them. The woman who had brought about this miracle, Iliya, opened her eyes gently. "Hmm, finally... it is completely captured." She stretched her neck from side to side and opened and closed her hands, surveying her surroundings as if she were in an unfamiliar place. Iliya then stood up calmly and looked at the mirror attached to one side of the prayer room. "Hmm. How long has it been...?" Muttering to herself while touching her face, she appeared utterly mad, and what’s more, the blue pupils reflected in the mirror were elongated vertically, like a slit. "Oh, humans don’t have eyes like these." With those words, her pupils suddenly transformed into round ones. Gazing steadily at her reflection, as if conversing with herself, Iliya murmured, "Be patient, even though it's stifling, my servant. Once I have completed all my affairs in this world, you too will dwell in Heaven with me." Inside her blue eyes, a faint shadow could be seen. It seemed like the silver-haired woman was wailing. But Iliya paid no more heed to her reflection in the mirror. As Iliya exited the prayer room, an old priest waiting outside greeted her with a broad smile and bowed. “Your Holiness, congratulations on your recovery.” “Indeed.” “…Pardon?” The old priest momentarily displayed a surprised expression. Iliya rarely used informal speech, especially with elders or subordinates. But upon meeting Iliya's steady gaze, the priest was quickly reminded that the youthful priest before him was now the head of their sacred country—the Pope, who once was a Saintess. ‘Her Holiness has been considerate all along. Who am I to expect honorifics?’ Collecting his startled heart and reflecting on his mistake, he bowed even deeper in submission. “What is the matter?” “Ah, it’s nothing much; I wanted to inquire about the holy light that surged above the prayer room earlier. The priests nearby were all startled by the sacred resonance that shook the soul.” Now that he thought about it, quite a few priests had been standing a little distance away, unable to approach and merely bowing their heads. The greeting was excessively reverent, far surpassing what would be expected in addressing the church’s highest authority. Yet Iliya—or rather, the avatar and apostle of Amunda, the God of the Sea and Change—accepted this excessive deference without question. And then, as if it were the most natural thing, she spoke astonishing words. “A divine oracle has been received.” “What!?” A divine oracle? The old priest’s eyes, as well as those subtly eavesdropping on the conversation, widened in surprise. There had been multiple such occurrences before the former, no, two popes ago was revealed as a fraud, but otherwise, one would have to look back nearly a century to find a genuine oracle. “Gather the servants of God. I will explain the revelation I have received.” Therefore, the priests were unconcerned by the slight oddity in the saintly Pope’s speech. “Understood.” “Hurry up!” “An oracle, indeed…” At the Pope’s directive, the priests began to move briskly. * * * Philip and Harmon, who were on their way to request an audience upon hearing the news of Iliya’s emergence, also received this news. “An oracle?” Philip merely tilted his head, but Harmon’s reaction was different. “Yes, a true oracle! The will of the Nine Gods watching over the world has been conveyed directly to the earth.” From his flushed face, it was evident—if Philip were not accompanying him, he would have immediately rushed to the scene. Though he was inclined to simply let him go, Philip too had matters to attend to, so he couldn't easily let the divine swordsman leave. “Oh, that’s good news. But because of that, I won’t happen to miss seeing the Saintess, will I…?” “No way. You should go see her right away. If it is indeed a divine oracle, the Holy Nation will soon become very busy. Before that happens, we must first address the request from our ally, MacLaine.” The divine swordsman phrased it as a request from the Kingdom of MacLaine rather than an individual, but it wasn’t too far from the truth, so Philip didn’t bother to correct him. ‘Was our kingdom truly an ally…?’ Just a mild curiosity crossed his mind, but he merely chuckled and nodded. A moment later, another piece of news reached the two as they entered the central temple. – MacLaine has won against the Empire. – The Sun of MacLaine, who vanquished the Sword Phantom. – The Empire’s decisive defeat. After sending back the Holy Knight who delivered the news, Harmon turned to Philip, his eyes wide with surprise, as a broad smile spread across Philip's face. “To have slain the Sword Phantom, it’s truly remarkable martial prowess. But I heard the ruler of MacLaine is rather young?” Philip could only feel an overwhelming sense of pride. His shoulders straightened, and he felt an invisible lift in his stance. “By the end of this winter, His Majesty will turn 28. Well, it’s definitely within his capabilities.” Though he hadn’t expected it at all, he was prepared for anything to happen, so Philip maintained his composure. “...28 years, or rather, 27 years old now. Hah… It’s genuinely hard to believe.” Initially, when Philip enthusiastically spoke of Logan MacLaine’s achievements, Harmon obligingly played along, but now his expression truly seemed unchangeable in genuine astonishment. “The more you learn about His Majesty, the more often you’ll be surprised. I was so taken aback so many times that now most things just pass without much thought.” Philip jested, blending sincerity with humor as he chuckled. "A new power has emerged in the eastern continent. But doesn't this make Chairman's request somewhat irrelevant?" "What? Did I tell you what I was going to request?" "Weren’t you planning to ask for support from the Holy Nation for MacLaine?" "The support already involves dispatching priests to the battlefield... Ah, apologies." Philip quickly reined in his words upon noticing Harmon's expression shift drastically. Thankfully, there was no one around, but Harmon frowned slightly, his face tensing. "Even if it must eventually be revealed, I hope neither our Holy Nation nor MacLaine are its initiators." Breaking the temple’s unwritten rule of political neutrality. There was no need to delve into the complex issues it would spawn. The fact that it could give the Empire another pretext to invade the Holy Nation was cause enough for Philip to recognize the necessity of secrecy. ‘As expected, the reportedly principled Divine Swordsman… would have opposed this.’ Thus, Philip bowed his head once more. “My apologies. I simply wanted to express that we've already greatly benefited. His Majesty understands the Holy Nation's inability to act at the moment.” Indeed, for the moment. "Is that so?" "As I mentioned, it's not His Majesty's request. It’s a personal favor from Sir Victor, yet you seem skeptical. It makes me quite sad, Commander.” Seeing Harmon momentarily caught off guard, Philip eased the tension with a light-hearted wave of his hand and a smile. "Haha, just a jest. I'm sure you’re aware of the friendship between Sir Victor and the Saintess. I'll discuss the specifics directly with the Saintess—I mean, Her Holiness." “Let’s do that.” If it were a truly trivial matter, there would be no reason not to disclose it. Philip's words weren’t lies, but neither were they wholly the truth. Harmon, despite his steel-like demeanor, could easily assume it was a ploy—a simple charade. The notion that the state head of MacLaine needed an audience with the Holy Nation's Pope to relay a personal favor? And that the Pope would entertain this? It seemed laughable, yet it ensured that the encounter remained unofficial, preventing it from signaling a formal alliance between MacLaine and the Holy Nation. That was enough. A divine oracle and the Empire’s defeat. With these incredible announcements arriving in quick succession, the priests usually calm in the central temple scurried about busily. Whether their fervor was due to MacLaine’s victory or the oracle was unclear, but thankfully it didn’t delay their audience. Our status was probably the reason. “Philip of the MacLaine company, here to meet Her Holiness the Pope.” With a courteous bow, even kneeling like a knight, Philip raised his head. For the ruler of a Holy Nation, the seat seemed rather humble, elevated by just a step above the floor of the grand chamber. It underscored the temple's ethos of renouncing power and embracing simplicity. Yet, the luminous beauty of the woman seated there lent prestige to even that modest seat. ‘Truly remarkable beauty.’ It wasn’t just her appearance. This stunning woman had risen from a sinner tried in religious court to a cardinal, and then to a saint who saved the Holy Nation, ultimately becoming Pope—a truly legendary figure. The extraordinary woman, Iliya, received Philip's words with a serene expression. “The MacLaine company?” “Consider me an aide to King Logan, Your Holiness.” With Harmon interjecting, Iliya’s eyes sparkled with apparent interest. ‘Naturally so.’ Given the current relationship between the Holy Nation and MacLaine, it was a natural reaction. “His Majesty expresses deep gratitude for the temple's support. Unfortunately, due to ongoing battles and poor timing, he regrets being unable to communicate directly.” Even fabrications from Philip's mouth sounded like the truth. The content was impeccable given the circumstances. Yet the ensuing behavior was slightly odd. “Support? Ah, yes. That one unnecessarily… hmm.” “Pardon?” “…?” As those present exchanged confused glances, Iliya sighed softly and offered a light smile. “I must have misspoken, fatigued from long prayers. Considering my condition and the current state of affairs, it’s best if we proceed directly to the main topic.” Harmon willingly nodded, but Philip couldn’t shake the familiarity of the 'savvy merchant' air from her demeanor. A seemingly cheerful smile that was truly mere facial acting. ‘Well, it’s to be expected from a Holy Nation's high-ranking official.’ Though it felt slightly unsettling, Philip accepted it for now. “Very well, I’ll relay His Majesty’s message straightaway.” This was where it truly mattered. Taking a deep breath, Philip began to convey his sovereign’s intentions as clearly and succinctly as possible. “His Majesty Logan is concerned that if MacLaine successfully repels the Empire’s attack—though the news has already spread—the Emperor may personally escalate the conflict. To prevent meaningless loss of life and considering the mutual support between MacLaine and the Holy Nation, His Majesty hopes the Holy Nation might mediate.” “Oh?” As the Saintess turned her sparkling eyes to the side, Harmon bowed, clearly prepared to voice his thoughts. “Our temple, having ended the war with the Empire, has declared neutrality. While covert support might be possible, officially stepping in would be difficult.” Harmon calmly opposed, reflecting the frank character he was known for, and it directly countered the amiable conversation Philip had aimed for. Philip, however, retained his smile and pressed on. “The Empire's false accusations against us provide reason enough. All we need is to clear the pretense.” “Ah, the black snake…” As Harmon, seemingly troubled, glanced at the Saintess, she gazed at Philip with a curious smile. As Philip once again felt a sense of unease under that seemingly forced smile, “Just as Commander Harmon mentioned, official assistance might be problematic. Instead, how about aiding MacLaine in the manner they once did for us?” “…Pardon?” “For example, someone like Commander Harmon here could disguise themselves and join the war effort.” “Your Holiness!?” Harmon exclaimed in shock at the Saintess's words, and Philip’s expression turned rigid.