Episode 333
“The atmosphere in the Holy Kingdom is… peculiar.”
Zeke, having joined the Black Sword Knights with Rovan in tow, led the group straight into the Holy Kingdom of Vadoka.
Vadoka, often referred to as the Holy Land, was a fortress perched on high ground, surrounded by impenetrable walls and guarded by paladins and priests. Even an orc horde would find it a daunting challenge to breach its defenses.
As Zeke entered this formidable kingdom, he sensed an unusual tension in the demeanor of the paladins and priests. Despite being part of the same kingdom, there were subtle signs of discord among them.
Rovan, walking beside Zeke, frowned as he overheard Zeke’s muttered observation.
“Sir Zeke, this is the reality of the Holy Kingdom. Even those who worship the same god divide into factions, fight among themselves, and create hierarchies that lead to discrimination. It’s no wonder so many of the faithful suffer.”
Moreover, nuns and monks were conspicuously absent in Vadoka. Despite being clergy, their lower status meant they couldn’t walk openly in the sacred land of Vadoka and had to stick to narrow back alleys.
Rovan himself had been driven out of the kingdom due to the rampant political strife. The Pope had done his best by sending him to a monastery where he could be safe.
Fortunately, in that place, priests, paladins, nuns, and monks respected one another and strove to follow and spread the teachings of their god.
Rovan, too, sought to follow these teachings and discover the true will of the divine.
Yet, most monasteries within the order were not like that. Clergy exploited the faithful to fill their own coffers, and the propagation of doctrine had become merely a means to amass wealth.
Though still young, Rovan had seen and experienced the corruption of the Holy Kingdom firsthand, feeling its decay in every fiber of his being.
He trembled slightly with fear, even as anger simmered within him at their selfish actions.
Zeke, noticing Rovan’s unease, patted him reassuringly on the shoulder.
“Don’t worry too much. I’ll make sure you reach the Pope safely.”
At Zeke’s words, Rovan finally managed a relieved smile.
Initially, Rovan had been wary of Zeke, mistaking him for a pursuer sent by the Empire after witnessing him fight Bacchus. But upon learning that Zeke was not an imperial soldier but rather the renowned knight who had saved the Ghetto region from monsters, Rovan’s perspective shifted entirely.
Zeke Draker, hailed as the continent’s greatest genius knight, had earned fame as the Knight of the Sea and was said to have performed numerous miracles with the blessing of the Fairy King. His reputation was unmatched across the land.
Moreover, rumors claimed that Zeke Draker could wield the powerful miracles of light, akin to the legendary first Holy King, Geo Lubern.
Though Geo Lubern was a saint of a different sect to Rovan, he couldn’t help but be impressed.
With such a savior protecting him, Rovan finally felt his fears subside.
Zeke, seeing Rovan relax a bit, offered a small smile before leading the Black Sword Knights toward the papal residence.
As they approached, a group of clergy in ornate attire appeared before them.
Dressed in white robes adorned with gold and precious jewels, these clergymen looked more opulent than the nobility of the central continent.
They were members of the Central Council of the Holy Kingdom.
At their forefront stood none other than Chairman Pierre.
The fact that the chairman and council members had come to greet them in person was a gesture of respect.
Pierre addressed Zeke, who sat astride his horse, Bucephalus.
“Welcome, Zeke Draker, Knight of Draker and heir to the House of Agamemnon. In the name of the divine, we welcome you. Show your loyalty and devotion to the divine, and prove that you are the sword of the god.”
According to the order’s tradition, Zeke was expected to dismount, bow to the sacred relic, and kiss the feet of the clergy to demonstrate his devotion.
However, Zeke remained on his horse, looking down at Pierre without a word.
As Zeke showed no sign of complying, the eyes of the other cardinals and bishops began to waver.
Pierre, maintaining a solemn expression, spoke again.
“Zeke Draker, dismount and prove your devotion…”
“Where is His Holiness?”
Zeke interrupted Pierre, asking about the Pope.
Pierre frowned at the unexpected question.
In the current Holy Kingdom, Pierre himself held the most power.
He had personally come to greet Zeke and was prepared to bestow blessings, yet Zeke was asking for the Pope, who was little more than a figurehead. It was baffling.
When Pierre remained silent, Zeke spoke again.
“I wish to meet His Holiness and prove my devotion before him. Please guide me to where he is.”
The expressions of Pierre and the council members soured completely.
However, they had already decided to allow Zeke into the kingdom, and technically, his request was more in line with tradition.
Pierre clenched his teeth, his eyes filled with irritation, and said, “Escort Sir Zeke to His Holiness.”
Without dismounting, Zeke followed the clergy who led the way to the papal residence.
He passed by Pierre and the other council members without so much as a glance.
Pierre watched Zeke and the Black Sword Knights head toward the papal residence with displeasure, then noticed a small boy in a hood standing nearby.
‘Hmm?’
Pierre thought the boy looked familiar but didn’t consider that he might be Rovan, the heir.
A cardinal approached Pierre and asked, “Chairman, are you just going to let that insolent behavior slide?”
Pierre, his expression hardened, glared at the retreating Black Sword Knights before shaking his head.
“Let it be. Whether he’s ignorant or has some other motive, he’ll soon realize that the Holy Kingdom operates unlike any other place.”
The most intense power struggles on the continent occurred in the imperial capital of Rome.
But the most complex political machinations were found here in the Holy Kingdom of Vadoka.
It was a place where the reputation of a savior knight alone wouldn’t suffice.
Some even called it a demonic realm, teeming with monsters rather than a holy land.
‘Zeke Draker, let’s see how you struggle.’
After instructing the Black Sword Knights to wait, Zeke entered the papal residence with only the captain, Decker, Felix, who had ties to the Holy Kingdom, and Rovan.
As they stepped inside, Zeke surveyed the surroundings, his brow furrowing.
‘This place is in complete disrepair.’
The papal residence, where the Pope resided, was supposed to be the most important building in the kingdom.
Yet, it was evident that the building was neglected, with parts in need of repair left unattended.
It was a clear sign that the Pope’s authority was utterly disregarded within the Holy Kingdom.
Even as they entered the papal residence, no one came to guide them except the clergyman Pierre had instructed.
Zeke and his companions walked through dimly lit corridors until they were led to a room deep inside.
“This is the place. I’ll take my leave now.”
The clergyman who had guided them pointed out the location and promptly left.
Realizing the situation in the Holy Kingdom was more dire than he had anticipated, Zeke slowly opened the door.
Creak—
The door emitted a sharp sound, as if it hadn’t been oiled in ages.
Zeke and his companions stepped inside.
The interior was surprisingly humble, hardly befitting a place where the Pope resided.
There was a small space for prayer and a single desk in the corner.
Suddenly, a voice rang out.
“Who goes there?”
A young knight in faded armor approached Zeke’s group, eyeing them warily.
Zeke recognized the orange cloak the knight wore, identifying him as a member of the papal guard.
The knight, sensing the formidable presence of Zeke, Decker, and Felix, hesitated, his hand moving to his sword.
At that moment, Rovan, who had been hiding behind, called out excitedly.
“Sir Anthony!”
Recognizing the knight, Rovan ran toward him.
The knight, called Anthony, was startled but quickly lifted Rovan into a hug.
“Rovan! My goodness! What happened to you?”
Anthony then turned to look at Zeke and his companions.
Rovan explained to Anthony, “This is Sir Zeke Draker! He brought me here!”
Anthony was taken aback by Rovan’s words.
“Sir Zeke Draker… the savior knight?”
He set Rovan down and bowed respectfully to Zeke.
“Sir Zeke, please forgive my rudeness. I am Anthony Solma, charged with guarding His Holiness.”
Zeke nodded in acknowledgment.
“Pleasure to meet you, Sir Anthony. It’s an honor to see the renowned Vadoka Guard in person.”
The Vadoka Guard, tasked with protecting the Pope, had a unique tradition.
Unlike other guards, it wasn’t composed of paladins. Instead, it was formed from the followers of the Sun Church in the Kingdom of Thebea, one of the central kingdoms.
During the Holy Empire era, Thebea served as the imperial capital, and the papal guard was made up of the most honorable and powerful individuals from Thebea—a tradition that continued to this day.
Hearing Anthony’s surname, Solma, Zeke inquired further.
“If you’re from the Solma family, you must know Sir Aslan Solma of the Cross Sword and Sir Jephric Solma.”
Anthony nodded.
“Of course. Jephric is my cousin, and Sir Aslan is my uncle.”
Aslan Solma, who had been trapped in a cursed mansion for thirty years, had regained his knightly position thanks to Zeke’s intervention and returned to the Solma family.
Anthony looked at Zeke and spoke.
“Though I haven’t had the honor of meeting Lord Aslan in person, being devoted to the Holy Kingdom, I’ve heard through family news that you’ve returned safely. The Solma family owes you a great debt, so you are as much a benefactor to me as well.”
Zeke nodded in acknowledgment of Anthony’s words.
“Thank you for your kind words. But more importantly, where is His Holiness? I would like to pay my respects first.”
Anthony nodded in agreement.
“His Holiness will finish his prayers shortly and join us. Please, make yourself comfortable here while you wait. Rovan, come with me. It’s been a while since we’ve seen His Holiness, so let’s make sure we’re properly attired.”
Zeke and his companions nodded and took seats at the table Anthony indicated.
As Zeke settled in and looked across at Felix, he noticed an unusual tension in Felix’s expression, his body trembling slightly.
“Felix,” Zeke called softly.
Felix started, lifting his head quickly. “Yes, my lord?”
“You seem unusually tense.”
“Haha, did it show that much?”
Felix had been trained in swordsmanship by Fab, the Arch Paladin. Though he was now on the verge of mastering the golden swordsmanship of the Agamemnon family, it was clear that Fab had been the most significant influence on his identity as a knight.
Being in the Holy Kingdom, where his grandfather had once fought a lonely battle after abandoning the title of Arch Paladin, seemed to stir complex emotions within him.
Felix exhaled deeply and spoke. “Being here, I think I understand why my grandfather gave up the title of Arch Paladin to save the children of Luvern. He couldn’t stand the actions of the clergy who only pursued their own interests.”
Zeke nodded at Felix’s words.
His mother, Laura Agamemnon, had organized the Dawn Society with Sir Fab to rescue the children of Luvern and continued to fight against the forces of darkness in the shadows, unknown to the world.
Sacrificing oneself for others without seeking honor or gain was never an easy task.
Zeke looked at Felix and said, “Sir Fab’s spirit will revive the Holy Kingdom. And the one to plant that spirit here is none other than you, Felix.”
Felix nodded firmly, his expression resolute. He had grown into a true knight since they first met.
Just then, the sound of a door opening behind them caught their attention.
“Sir Zeke Draker.”
A clear, melodious voice resonated through the room.
A woman entered, dressed in simple yet elegant sacred robes, a white veil covering her head. Beneath the veil, her mysterious lavender hair shimmered.
She exuded an aura of holiness, as if surrounded by a halo.
Zeke and his companions rose from their seats and bowed to her.
The Pope, the most revered figure of the Sun Order and the ruler of the Holy Kingdom of Vadoka, had arrived.