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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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It was the worst reunion imaginable.
There was no other way to describe it.
I let out a heavy sigh, gazing at the scene of utter devastation.
There was no chance of reconciliation.
Zebeline had declared her intention to sever all ties, abandoning any lingering attachment.
I followed the girl with flowing silver hair as she left the reception room. Eventually, we found ourselves conversing in the flower garden outside the cathedral.
“I apologize. We wasted precious time because of those shameless hypocrites.”
“It’s alright.”
Empty platitudes would only inflict further wounds.
So, I responded with a neutral tone.
“I never imagined the Kingdom of Veruso would fall. The minor nations in the central region are quite isolated.”
“What will your family do now?”
“I no longer consider them family. Just as they don’t see me as one of their own.”
“…”
Could they have reconciled if her family had shown genuine remorse?
If they had apologized for selling her,
If they had vowed to atone for their sins for the rest of their lives,
Perhaps Zebeline would have shown them a sliver of mercy.
But even after all these years, her family remained unchanged. They were the same people who had sold their youngest daughter for their own benefit.
To them, I was nothing more than a tool, then and now.
Having reached this realization once more, Zebeline couldn’t help but feel despair.
“…Let’s return tomorrow.”
“Yes.”
Simply being in the same space as those she considered her sworn enemies must have been agonizing for Zebeline.
So, I gently stroked her head, urging her to return home.
“First Saintess.”
As we were trying to compose ourselves after the disastrous reunion,
The heavy clang of metal resonated through the air.
Countless paladins surrounded Februa Cathedral, their presence menacing.
The young man leading the Holy Knights had an androgynous appearance. Clad in heavy armor, the young man exuded hostility, his gaze fixated on us with the same contempt he would show a cultist.
“…Sir Veillard.”
“Veillard? Maximilian’s rival, I presume.”
Cirel Veillard.
The quintessential rival character often found in romance fantasy novels, driven by jealousy towards the male lead.
Known for his rigid and almost obsessive personality.
Despite being trained under the same master, he harbored a pathological hatred for Maximilian.
As if to prove this, the knight commander’s face contorted with rage as soon as the unpleasant name was mentioned. He seemed to be reminded of Maximilian simply by looking at me.
“Who’s a rival?!”
“Well, you never managed to surpass him, so technically, you’re not even a rival.”
“Shut up! How dare you speak such nonsense before me!”
“…”
Of all people, it had to be Cirel Veillard, Maximilian’s classmate, rival, and one of the Seven Strongest.
It was fortunate that Ilkeron Nebiakus, the Black Cardinal and Maximilian’s master, hadn’t appeared. However, Cirel, the captain of the Holy Knights and the Holy Kingdom’s foremost swordsman, was also a formidable opponent.
I had anticipated some trouble.
But I never imagined he would barge in so brazenly with his troops.
“Zebeline Albion Russell. We have received an accusation that you might be a witch serving a cult.”
“A witch?”
Witch.
A symbol of evil, diametrically opposed to the saintess, an embodiment of purity and sanctity.
This was preposterous.
To accuse the First Saintess of the Holy Kingdom of being a witch.
It was clearly a provocation by the Holy Kingdom, a ploy to force Zebeline to awaken as the Apostle of a Calamity God. Their intention was to unleash the power of a Harmless Calamity upon the Sanctuary.
Realizing this, I gripped the hilt of my sword and stepped forward, shielding Zebeline from the paladins.
“Since inheriting the White Dragon’s blessing, I have never forgotten my duty as the First Saintess. I have revered the Earth Mother and His Holiness above all else, and I have guided the devout followers. To accuse me, a pure and noble soul like a white lily, of being a witch… This is a preposterous accusation.”
Despite being surrounded by dozens of paladins, Zebeline protested in a calm voice. Her usual pious demeanor was unchanged, surprising even the paladins who had come to arrest her.
The First Saintess.
She was the successor of the White Dragon.
Moreover, she was protected by the Hero newly chosen by the Earth Mother.
Apprehending the Saintess and the Hero would be a grave sin, inviting the One True God’s wrath. The paladins hesitated, glancing nervously at Cirel.
“We have received a formal accusation, so a trial will be held soon. All accusations related to witchcraft fall under the jurisdiction of the Holy Knights. We ask that you cooperate with the trial, First Saintess.”
“How arrogant. For a Holy Knight to presume to judge the First Saintess.”
A deafening thunderclap echoed through the sky.
And fierce bolts of lightning scattered in an instant.
As expected, Zebeline had chosen to respond with force. Cirel, his expression stiffening, slowly drew his sword. A chilling metallic sound accompanied the appearance of the sharp blade.
“To point your blade at the Hero chosen by the Earth Mother… The Holy Kingdom has truly fallen. Have you forgotten the divine oracle?”
“Shut your mouth. I will expose your wicked schemes to the world.”
Cirel Veillard, though perpetually overshadowed by Maximilian, was a formidable force who had reached the realm of absolutes.
He had been consistently underestimated simply because he was the rival character in a romance fantasy novel, despite possessing numerous advantages bestowed upon him by the author. I, as a reader, knew this better than anyone.
‘A holy sword? Ah, the sacred artifact crafted in imitation of the Earth Mother’s holy sword.’
The blade, gleaming crimson as if forged in flames.
The sacred artifact, channeling immense holy power into a single blade, was undoubtedly a holy sword.
A weapon crafted in imitation of the Four Swords of Demon Slaying.
An armament created by the Holy Kingdom to combat the Demon King’s army and the cult forces.
Holy swords resonate with each other, their holy power amplifying when in close proximity. However, Aldebaran remained unresponsive to the crimson blade. This was because the sword before my eyes was merely a replica, a pale imitation that had failed to capture the essence of the original.
“I will bring you to trial first.”
“How dare you presume to threaten me? You effeminate excuse for a man.”
It wasn’t entirely wrong.
After all, Cirel Veillard, Maximilian’s rival, was a woman disguised as a man.
Effeminate excuse for a man.
Cirel gritted his teeth at the cheap provocation.
“The Hero has arrived!”
Just as the replica and the genuine article were about to clash,
Another holy sword wielder intervened, escalating the already volatile situation.
Maximilian Argon Hohenberc.
The paladins surrounding Februa Cathedral parted, and Maximilian appeared.
“…As expected.”
–Clank. Clank.
Aldebaran trembled in its scabbard.
The holy sword, which had remained unresponsive to the replica, reacted violently to the holy swords Maximilian possessed.
“Hmph.”
Cirel scoffed as the black-haired man joined the fray.
It seemed Maximilian had chosen to side with the Holy Kingdom. Cirel’s expression, though displeased, showed no outright hostility, confirming this alliance.
“You damn bastard. You chose to side with them?”
“…”
That unbelievable fool.
To join forces with the Holy Kingdom after attempting to resurrect the Calamity of Death.
Just what kind of deal had he struck?
If he had made a deal with the Holy Kingdom, it must be related to Beatrice.
I drew Aldebaran, cursing under my breath.
Though the details remained unclear, it was evident that the Hero of the Ages had become a pawn of the Holy Kingdom. So, I made the insane decision to protect Zebeline by facing both Maximilian and Cirel at once.
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The Hero of the Ages, Maximilian.
The Unrivaled Sword, Cirel.
The two powerhouses of the Seven Strongest stood before me.
This was a truly desperate situation.
There was no chance of defeating them both.
Zebeline swallowed nervously, her face pale with fear as she watched Maximilian slowly approach. If a battle were to break out, Edanant’s defeat was inevitable.
‘Should I join the fight? No, with the Hero of the Ages and the Unrivaled Sword as opponents, I would only be a hindrance. Compared to those monsters who have reached the realm of absolutes, I’m still far too weak. But even so…!’
She needed a solution.
A way to separate them, even temporarily.
Zebeline anxiously searched for a way to remove at least one of them from the fight. She gazed at the black-haired man with pleading eyes, hoping to persuade him.
‘But how…? I heard Maximilian is also a stubborn fool! Just what can I do to convince him?’
Faced with a seemingly insurmountable challenge,
Zebeline desperately searched for a way out.
“Please, help me, Brother! I don’t care if I die… but please, save Edan’s child! The child in my womb!”
“…?”
The girl with flowing silver hair collapsed to the ground, her voice laced with desperation.
Simultaneously, Edanant and Maximilian froze, their minds reeling from the unexpected revelation.
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Bruh wut xD?
I mean… it works