403 - Regressor of the Fallen Family

Chapter 403 "I'm truly grateful for your offer, but I must decline, Your Holiness." Philip, forcing a smile, politely refused the saintess's proposal. Not because the world's most renowned sacred sword being insufficient as reinforcements. 'To think that they can hide such divine aura so well.' It was astonishingly odd for one to overlook the distinctive presence of divine aura, quite different from mere silver auras. It was akin to the Holy Nation openly declaring war against the Empire once more. Of course, for Maclain, the ideal scenario was for the Holy Nation and the Empire to be at each other's throats. But, nothing in this world comes without a price. ‘What is it that you aim to demand?’ Recollecting the fundamental truth he had come to learn through countless interactions, Philip first rejected the saintess's offer. He had no idea what the price equivalent to the dispatch of the sacred sword might be. Wouldn't it suffice to announce, 'Maclain has greatly contributed as an ally in expelling the black serpent from the temple,' thus eliminating any justification for the Empire’s invasion? "Oh? Are you refusing?" "As an ally, I believe it would be improper to impose such a burden on the Holy Nation." What are your intentions? Philip politely inquired indirectly. It was not the saintess, but the sacred sword bearer who responded first. "Your Holiness. If things remain as they are, the burden the homeland must bear will be too great. The divine aura from me and the vice-captains is a distinctive trait that's impossible to conceal..." "Captain Harmon. This concerns a divine decree, so please refrain from giving personal opinions." "Excuse me?" "We'll discuss this later, just between the two of us." Having silenced Harmon, the saintess turned her gaze back to Philip. "What do you say, Master Philip of the Merchants' Guild? Would you still refuse even if we're willing to bear this burden?" "...Are you saying you won't demand compensation?" What an absolutely nonsensical statement. Yet, the saintess affirmed this nonsensical claim. "Of course. Didn't Maclain offer its assistance the same way? The Holy Nation doesn't attach conditions when helping an ally." With a gentle smile accompanying her words, Philip could do nothing but stand there slack-jawed, stunned. In this moment, that feigned smile didn’t bother him at all. What an unexpected boon. ‘Is this how the grace of the Nine Gods descends? Oh, my God! Your Majesty, I've hit the jackpot! Hooray!’ Philip internally cheered, throwing imaginary punches in the air, but quickly gathered himself and opened his mouth hurriedly. "Then, I naturally..." I must accept. Just as he was about to express his gratitude and seize the opportunity, a disquieting memory flashed through his mind. – ...Please ask this question. If you were to get an absurd answer, consider them no longer themselves and treat them as an enemy, the saintess herself said. – I wished I could have asked the saintess personally, but under the circumstances, I couldn't. Uncle Philip, no, brother. I beg of you. A plea from someone who rarely showed warmth. Recalling the earnestness in those red and blue eyes, Philip managed to stop himself from speaking. No matter how nonsensical it seemed, the content of those words bothered him significantly. ‘…Treat them as an enemy?’ It seemed necessary to confirm it. “Is something the matter, Master of the Merchants Guild?” “Oh, it's nothing. While it's such a generous offer, I don't have full authority in this matter. It seems I should consult His Majesty first and seek approval.” "Even when we're offering aid without compensation?" Harmon's face darkened once more at her words. Logically speaking, it would be wise to provide a definitive answer to avoid the saintess being persuaded by Harmon once this meeting concludes. But… ‘…If things go awry, it's all your fault, Viktor.’ Because of this nagging feeling in his chest, Philip found himself playing the role of a rather inflexible man. “Haha. Isn’t it a loyal subject's duty?” “Hmm…” “Is something the matter?” When Illya's enigmatic gaze landed on him, his heart fluttered, but Philip maintained his composed facade. With a faint chuckle, the saintess shook her head and rose from her seat. “No, nothing is the matter. Then after you've conversed with King Logan, do provide your response. I await a positive reply.” King Logan? Once a suspicion arises, everything starts to seem questionable. ‘King Logan.’ Something a leader of the Holy Nation might readily express. However, I’d heard the saintess originally hailed from Maclain and had a special rapport with our liege, causing her to refer to him as His Majesty… As my mind raced, I noticed the saintess truly preparing to leave, and without further thought, I spoke up. I wanted to thoroughly address this unease. “Ah. Before you go, I wish to make a personal request to Lady Illya, not as the head of the Holy Nation but as an individual.” “…Pardon?” “A friend's request suddenly came to mind. I forgot to mention this trivial request before discussing matters of state.” "…Right now, out of the blue?" “Haha. It’s Sir Viktor's request. I understand he's someone you hold in high regard?” “Ah, Sir Viktor. Yes, indeed. I've been indebted to him quite a bit.” Why does her expression seem less pleased despite her words? “But considering my current position, I hope you know excessive requests might be difficult to fulfill?” “Of course.” It's human nature to start seeing ghosts where none exist when suspicion creeps in, so Philip cautiously attempted to focus on Viktor’s request while trying to stay impartial. "This doesn't concern anything that could harm Your Holiness's reputation. It's about converting your residence remaining in Maclain into an orphanage, if it’s possible to do so." “…Pardon?” “With the increase in orphans due to the war, as you considered contributing…” The saintess fixed her gaze, her expression becoming quite peculiar, but then she smiled. That familiar feigned smile. “Ah, I see. As expected, Sir Viktor never fails to amaze me. Of course, I should oblige such a request.” “…Thank you for your generosity.” Philip bowed his head with a satisfied smile, yet inside he felt turmoil. ‘That nonsense was true… What is happening here?’ The residence of Saintess Illya during her time as a bishop in Maclain had already been converted into an orphanage. That transformation had taken place eight years ago, since her first assignment in Maclain. How could she be unaware of something she personally planned and executed? – She said she would no longer be herself… – That we should consider her an enemy… Viktor’s earlier ramblings began to sound increasingly plausible. So why did the saintess propose such an unprecedented decision to dispatch the sacred sword? ‘If the saintess truly is an enemy, what would the dispatched sacred sword actually do…?’ Imagining the sacred sword aiming a blade at his lord’s back sent shivers down Philip’s spine. “Master Philip? Is there something else you wish to discuss?” “Oh, no. Thank you for the audience, Your Holiness.” Desperately maintaining his composure, Philip left the chamber with a bow. His internal state was markedly different from just ten minutes prior. ‘How do I refuse?’ The atmosphere in his head changed completely after that evening when he managed to establish communication with Logan from the battlefield. [Did you say that happened? Does that even make sense?] “Yes, initially, I dismissed it as nonsense. But the notion that the saintess herself doesn't know is even more absurd.” [True, that is peculiar. I’ll have to ask Viktor what he's hiding.] “Yes, I think it would be wise to inquire directly with Sir Viktor for more clarity.” [Indeed, I'll do that. However, for now, accept the saintess's proposal.] “What?” [Accept it. If you can wield the sacred sword, it’s worth the risk.] “Your Majesty!? But in the worst case…” Philip protested, but Logan cut him off decisively. [If we don’t accept, who knows what that suspicious saintess might do.] “It still seems too dangerous!” [To put it bluntly, a determined sacred sword could come assassinating under guise. Then it wouldn't be much different from accepting the proposal anyway.] “The sacred sword is a sacred knight, not an assassin. You can confront them with our forces.” Neither of them assumed that someone as eminent as a sacred sword would not assassinate. History has shown that zealots can justify anything under the name of their god. Philip’s concern was indeed reasonable, but Logan's overwhelming confidence quelled his opposition. [Haha! Aren’t you worrying a bit too much, Philip? You don’t need to be so overprotective of me. As long as I'm aware, the sacred sword can’t surprise me.] He is the king who has broken the sword’s soul. Philip, recognizing the justified bravado, found himself unable to refute and merely let out a hollow laugh. Perhaps noting Philip’s expression, Logan pointed out something Philip had overlooked. [More importantly, what would people think if we declined such a benevolent offer? If the saintess is truly an enemy, have you considered what might happen to you in that position?] “Oh…?!” [Tut. You haven’t thought of your own safety, have you? Whether I should be thankful or not… Anyway, inform the saintess that we will accept her offer.] “Ah, even so…” Philip tried to object once more out of conscience, but Logan’s reasoning had struck a chord, leaving him speechless. As loyal as he was, Philip also valued his safety. Eventually, the words he could muster were set: “…Please be cautious.” Even as he spoke, Philip couldn't shake off his unease, but Logan only laughed heartily in response. [Haha, naturally. The sacred sword—what a powerful unexpected boon.] --- – A divine decree has been proclaimed. The blue light erupting from the Pope’s prayer room became the hottest topic within the central temple, so much so that distant war news from the east seemed insignificant. However, when the Pope convened all priests to convey the revelation, most priests found the proclamation dubious. – Annihilate the black serpent defying the will of God and eradicate the descendants of the mage-genius! The message seemed too detailed and violent to be a true divine revelation. But it was delivered by Illya Gabon, both the saintess and Pope, who had weathered much turmoil, including the impeachment incident of a predecessor Pope, earning her church enemies, and even waging war with the Empire. The flower of God that bloomed in troubled times — that was Illya's image within the temple. No Pope in church history had experienced such dramatic fluctuations in a short period, and her history of trials became convincing evidence for the priests. Practical actions were promptly set into motion. “Form a contingent to track and eradicate the black serpent!” “Direct thorough investigations within temples across the continent and request cooperation from all nations.” “Let the directives of the divine revelation become the top priority for priests and sacred knights!” Countless orders spread across the continent’s temples. The next day. Harmon Killebrew, the sacred sword, knelt before Illya. "You truly mean to..." “Logan Maclain is none other than the reincarnation of Xebrik Cassell. It is your mission to eliminate him.” Illya—not as she presented herself—extended her hand, and Harmon’s eyes trembled. The command was shocking, but even more so was the object within her grasp, extraordinary in nature. “Your Holiness, how could one of the relics preserving the great barrier—a sacred artifact…” Ignoring the tremble, Illya nonchalantly handed the necklace, glowing with sacred light, to him. “It’s a testament to how vital your mission is.” “Your Holiness…” “Take it. This is Licentia, the sacred artifact of Aria, the goddess of the sky and freedom. Captain Harmon, ensure your mission is fulfilled. For our god.” Faced with her resolute tone, Harmon could only accept the necklace. “…For our god.” Licentia's sacred radiance reverberated through Harmon’s divine power, stirring his soul. Therefore. “Assist him for now to avoid suspicion, but when the decisive moment arrives… you know what to do, correct?” At that moment, the instructions felt less disconcerting than before. “Yes, Your Holiness.” Indeed. It was a mission given by the gods. “While you bear the sacred artifact, take time each day for prayer. In doing so, Aria will reveal the ‘true path’ to you.” “I will remember.” The true path. Harmon did not notice the peculiar expression on Illya's face when she spoke those words.