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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Cyno
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The carriage stopped at the gates of the Grand Divinum Temple. From here, we had to proceed on foot, so Hubeo and I disembarked.
A paladin guarding the main entrance immediately approached, demanding we disarm. The Grand Divinum Temple was the first sanctuary established by Saint Proxia and the Seven Saints in this world—the holiest of holy sites. Carrying weapons inside was punishable as blasphemy, except for the temple guards.
“Young Lord Hubeo. Please, come in.”
As the paladin escorted Hubeo inside, I followed.
The paladin shot me a sidelong glance.
“Attendants are not permitted.”
“I’m not an attendant. I have a reservation.”
“Who are you?”
“Ian Sergio Karl. Eldest son of House Karl.”
The paladin’s eyes widened as he scrutinized my ragged appearance. A beggar-looking wretch claiming to be the infamous Karl heir was hard to believe.
“I-Is that true?”
Hubeo, sensing the paladin’s hesitation, nodded firmly.
“He’s correct. I vouch for him.”
“Ah, very well then.”
I strode in with a triumphant smirk.
Waiting for Hubeo had been the right move. Having fled with only one set of clothes, I lacked proper identification—but thanks to him, it was resolved in an instant. Good friends were indispensable.
‘Still as vast as ever.’
The Grand Divinum Temple was enormous. Lavish structures sprawled endlessly, spaced so far apart the grounds felt wasteful.
Even for the holiest site, cramming such architecture inside the city walls must’ve been a laborer’s nightmare. But money talks—religious orders were the wealthiest entities in the world, with tithes and ventures like the Hall of Divinity generating staggering income.
“Please, enter this way.”
The paladin led us to an administrative office handling pilgrim admissions. Unlike others, this one catered exclusively to high-ranking nobles of the light faith, leaving it nearly deserted.
Hubeo and I stepped inside.
“Welcome. This way, please.”
A middle-aged priest overseeing paperwork furrowed his brows at my attire.
“Who might you be?”
“Ian Sergio Karl. Ring a bell?”
The paladin nodded confirmation, and the priest’s expression brightened.
“Ah, the young lord of House Karl!”
“Yeah.”
Suddenly, a mana distortion rippled through the room—likely the priest activating a summoning artifact.
I tensed briefly, but when nothing happened, I dismissed it. VIPs often received special treatment; he was probably calling a dedicated guide.
The priest shuffled through documents.
“However, it appears your visit was canceled, young lord.”
Expected. I patted my pockets, then paused—my coin purse was in the luggage Shura took.
“Ah, I’m short on funds. Do you accept tabs?”
“Donations are fine. House Karl has never defaulted on tithes.”
Of course. Father wouldn’t risk tarnishing our image by demanding refunds, and the temple never returned donations anyway.
“Oh? Convenient.”
“You’ll need to wait briefly. Reinstating your name for the ritual requires some paperwork.”
“I don’t have much time.”
“It’ll be quick.”
Quick, indeed—but not in the way I expected.
The moment he spoke, armed paladins stormed the office.
A panicked Hubeo scrambled against the wall, while I scratched my nose, glaring at the priest.
“Hey. What’s the meaning of this?”
Then, a blond noble and a squad of knights marched in—Count Maier and House Karl’s retainers. I’d shaken them off earlier, yet here they were, lying in wait.
“Young lord. It’s time to return.”
Count Maier studied me with a conflicted gaze. The black sheep of House Karl, evading the empire’s manhunt to reach the temple, was unbelievable.
But his armed entry into the holiest site was even more shocking.
Furious, I seized the priest by the collar. I’d thought I was done with this.
“Wow, unbelievable. Hey, this is the Grand Divinum Temple—mankind’s holiest site! Since when do you meddle in House Karl’s affairs? And why is Count Maier here with a drawn sword?”
“Young lord, technically, this isn’t the temple yet. The sanctum begins beyond that door.”
He pointed to a small side exit—the entrance to the Path of Penance. I shook him violently, incredulous.
“Then what’s the main gate I just passed through? A dog flap?!”
“Young lord! Compose yourself!”
Insulted, the priest roared. I shook him harder.
“Me? Compose myself? How much did they pay you? Or what favors did the empire promise?!”
“Young lord!”
“Oh~ Money and power make anything possible, huh? Next, you’ll be bedding popes. Nice.”
“Young lord! This is blasphemy!”
I laughed sharply.
I didn’t despise true devotees. Nor did I particularly hate the corrupt. But I loathed hypocrites who enforced holiness while lacking it themselves.
“Holiness? Ah, that half-penny farce? Yeah, I know it. But guess what? I won’t spare even half a penny’s worth of respect.”
“Heretic!”
Paladins drew their swords. By defiling the sacred, I’d crossed a line.
As tensions escalated, Count Maier intervened.
“Young lord, stop this.”
I flung the priest aside and turned.
“Count. Leave. I have urgent business here.”
“Impossible. His Majesty and your father ordered your immediate return upon discovery.”
“A few hours is all I need.”
The count shook his head grimly.
“The situation is dire. Your disappearance has strained relations between the Yosrahim imperial family and House Karl. You understand the significance of your bloodline, do you not?”
I did. That’s why, despite vowing never to return, I’d compromised this far.
Seventy years ago, House Karl was the royal family of the Karl Kingdom, a dark faction stronghold until surrendering to Duke Cloud’s forces. Many Karl nobles still harbored separatist sentiments, making the imperial family wary.
But there was a solution—me. As both a direct imperial descendant and Karl heir, my ascension would crush their hopes of independence.
“Ah, so it’s political?”
“And reality.”
I gritted my teeth.
“Leave. I’m not interested.”
“Young lord, must I spell it out further?”
“Enough. Go. My father and uncle can handle things up to this point, but what comes next isn’t their concern.”
My gaze darkened. Count Maier drew his sword.
“I’ll stop you.”
“Pfft. You think a few knights can hold me back?”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“Oh? Others can’t, but you can? I’ve seen plenty like you—uselessly stubborn, getting subordinates killed for nothing.”
“Young lord!”
Ignoring him, I scanned the agitated paladins.
“Hey. Don’t idolize holiness too much. It seems grand now, but soon, you’ll curse it. When that day comes, you’ll be the ones tearing out throats at its mention.”
“Silence, heretic!”
A paladin lunged. I twisted his sword arm, grabbed his hair, and smashed his face into a table.
Wood splintered. As he collapsed unconscious, I snatched his blade and severed the next attacker’s arm.
Blood sprayed. The priest, cowering in a corner, spat curses.
“Desecrating the sacred temple with bloodshed…! Young lord, divine retribution will strike you!”
“Damn it! This isn’t even the temple!”
“Young lord!”
Count Maier and his knights charged. I hurled myself toward the Path of Penance’s side door.
CRASH.
The door shattered, revealing the high-walled penitential path. Guards raised spears, but I vaulted over them, pole-vaulting with a stolen lance to clear the barrier.
“Young lord!”
Count Maier’s desperate cry echoed behind me. Right—causing a scene at mankind’s holiest site was beyond audacious.
But I couldn’t abandon Yojo. Even if it cost my life, my future—Yojo was my one and only companion. The count’s words had reminded me: without Yojo, I’d be truly alone.
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