Chapter 524: The Church’s Emissary

Because the world’s ambient magic ebbs and flows in cycles, on clear winter nights, the stars often shine brighter and more numerous than in summer.

Beneath a windless night sky, a deep indigo canvas studded with countless stars—the same stars that have carried humanity’s most splendid dreams for millennia—hung like a delicate glass dome inverted over the world. It was clear and beautiful, yet forever out of reach. Below, the artificial lights of this newly born city flickered like a terrestrial reflection of the heavens.

Veronica stood quietly amidst this unfamiliar cityscape, a faint halo of holy light encircling her, shielding her from the winter’s chill.

Steady, unhidden footsteps approached from behind, followed by the voice of the duke who had returned from death: “Not fond of the banquet’s atmosphere?”

“Your Grace,” Veronica turned, a serene, composed smile gracing her lips as she traced the emblem of the Holy Light God over her chest. “May the Holy Light bless you. It is a splendid evening, but I prefer quieter surroundings.”

“The Holy Light God, huh…” Gawain muttered under his breath, then met her gaze. “Does He bless those who don’t believe in Him as well?”

To Gawain, the “Saint Princess” before him was an enigma. A royal born with exceptional gifts and a devout follower of the Holy Light, she was the youngest living saint of the Church and the idealized figure in the hearts of countless believers. So many halos surrounded this woman, barely older than Rebecca, yet beneath that radiant glow… all Gawain could see was emptiness.

He couldn’t discern Veronica’s true intentions or feelings. Though every word and action perfectly fit the “Saint Princess” role, they felt like finely cut gems—flawless but lifeless. In their close conversations, he never detected genuine emotion or personal preference. What he always sensed was an unchanging aura of “purity and warmth,” but paradoxically, that very constancy made him feel her soul was cold as ice.

Could it be that her faith was so devout she had become something otherworldly, like a holy spirit?

Gawain didn’t believe so. He decided to probe her more directly during their exchange. Yet, to his disappointment, Veronica’s expression remained calm and serene, her tone nearly unchanged: “The Holy Light God regards all living beings equally. Whether they believe or not, He is there, judging all with justice.”

“Even the poor who can’t pay their penance?” Gawain asked lightly.

“The Holy Light God needs no earthly gold, but the Church does. However, good intentions don’t always yield good results. Some priests whose faith is not yet steadfast have been corrupted by money. It’s true that penance fees have become a means of extortion in some regions. We are aware of this and are already working to address it.”

A perfect answer—neither fully defensive nor conceding, coupled with a promise of justice without a deadline. Clearly, the devout Saint Princess was also skilled in the aristocratic art of circumspect rhetoric.

Gawain didn’t press further on that topic. Instead, he asked bluntly, “What is your view on what happened in Luan City?”

Even with such a direct question, Veronica’s calm demeanor barely shifted. “His Holiness the Pope is deeply concerned about the situation in the southern territories. For some time, we lost all contact with the southern diocese, and the intelligence we later received was troubling. Your Grace, we do not intend to interfere with your rule, but we must be responsible for the hundreds of thousands of believers in the south.”

“The people in the south are doing well, and they still believe in the Holy Light. Most of the churches there continue to operate normally—sermons and ceremonies proceed as scheduled,” Gawain said. “The only difference is that the people have rewritten the rules by their own choice.”

Veronica met his gaze steadily. “Does rewriting the rules include destroying churches in Luan City and hanging the priests there?”

“The priests in Luan refused to obey the new rules and refused to die for it, which put us in a difficult position. I still regret what happened there,” Gawain spread his hands with a calmness that would impress even Amber and Pittman. “The clergy in the cathedral used brutal, bloody methods to maintain their authority and amass wealth. I believe they are the kind of priests you mentioned—those whose faith is not yet strong enough. I should have corrected their errors earlier to prevent them from straying further from the divine path. Unfortunately, the people’s anger reached its peak first.”

He sighed and continued, “When chaos broke out in Luan City, my troops strictly followed orders not to attack the churches and stationed themselves far outside the city. This was because the cathedral priests forbade us from approaching from the start. When the situation spiraled out of control, my knights and soldiers did their utmost to rescue those inside, but due to distance and fortified walls, none were saved.”

For a fleeting moment, Gawain was certain he saw a flicker of surprise in Veronica’s eyes.

But it vanished almost immediately. The Saint Princess’s tone remained unhurried: “Your perspective… is certainly novel.”

“It’s the truth, and the evidence is everywhere. More importantly, the people of Cecil prefer the current state,” Gawain said, surprised that Veronica remained so composed. “In my view, who sets the order in Luan City is irrelevant. The survival and welfare of the people always outweigh so-called ‘legitimacy.’ I bear no prejudice or hostility toward the Church—any Church. I welcome any Church to exist on my land, but they must abide by the rules here.”

Gawain was willing to negotiate slowly with Victoria because, in his eyes, the kingdom’s army was a major client essential to Cecil’s rapid development—and major clients require careful maintenance. But when dealing with Veronica, he preferred to be straightforward, lacking patience for the vast yet profitless institution of the Holy Light Church.

“People’s survival over ‘legitimacy’…” Veronica repeated his words, then raised an eyebrow. “Then where do these ‘rules’ come from?”

“Seven hundred years ago, I and Charles set them.”

“Then it seems your stance is clear,” Veronica said calmly after a brief pause. “Impressive, and quite… bold for this era. I won’t comment further, but I imagine the Holy Light Cathedral won’t be pleased to learn your position.”

“That depends on how you view the south and the entire Ansu region,” Gawain replied. “But I have a suggestion—if you can’t change the status quo, you might as well be optimistic. After all, the Holy Light Church still exists in the south. I have never expelled a single priest or cleric. They continue to preach here, and at least—no one has declared them heretics.”

Veronica looked at him. “…You want the Holy Light Cathedral to tacitly accept the southern church’s independence.”

“You’re free to verbally deny it. I don’t mind.”

Veronica showed a hint of surprise again, then smiled. “You’re much more forthright in this conversation than last time—can’t you be gentler with your juniors?”

“I’m speaking with the Church’s emissary. Emissaries have no rank,” Gawain smiled back, softening his tone slightly. “And now I’m speaking to a junior—Veronica, you should stay here longer and learn more about this land. Your ancestor, Charles Morn, once strove to build a home where people could live in peace and prosperity. Ironically, in this era, I can hardly find such a place, so I had to take matters into my own hands. If you stay longer, you might understand the ideals your ancestor held when he broke through that wasteland. Beyond the Holy Light God, there are things worth your attention.”

Veronica was silent for a few seconds, seemingly moved when Gawain mentioned “ancestor.” Then she bowed slightly in the manner of a junior to a senior and said softly, “I will judge with my own eyes.”

With that, she turned and left.

After Veronica departed, a hazy shadow stirred beside Gawain, quickly coalescing into Amber’s form. The half-elf blinked toward the direction Veronica had gone and muttered, “I suspect she saw me…”

“She never once looked your way.”

“That’s why I say she saw me—she looked everywhere except at me,” Amber said, hands on hips, sounding like a pro. Then she frowned in puzzlement. “But seriously… what’s with this ‘Saint Princess’? You spoke so plainly, yet she showed no anger. Could it be she actually approves of you?”

“No. She never shows any attitude,” Gawain shook his head. “No matter what I say—even if I threaten to burn down the Holy Light Cathedral or declare conversion to the Holy Light God—she probably won’t reveal any reaction. People like that are the hardest to deal with because they’re unpredictable.”

“Tch. That’s why I don’t like holy rollers,” Amber grumbled, pouting. “They’re better liars than con artists.”

“More importantly, any news tonight?”

“They finally crossed the Rock Fortress and came to your old stronghold. Of course, they want to ‘look around,’” Amber said, waving her hands carelessly. “I even saw some familiar faces. But they’re mostly well-behaved. The Intelligence Bureau agents and Iron Rangers are just watching from a distance. I’ll keep an eye on them.”

“That’s good.”

…

“A home where people live in peace and prosperity…” Veronica walked slowly along the flowerbeds in the lord’s manor courtyard, having left the terrace but not returned to the banquet hall. In the quiet night, she stopped by a pool’s edge and looked up at the distant city lights, softly murmuring to herself, “This city… it really resembles it…”

After gazing for a long time, she withdrew her eyes from the glow of the magical crystal lamps and resumed walking. But then, a different light caught her attention from another direction, causing her to stop again.

It was a tall figure radiating shimmering arcane energy, his form seemingly forged from pure power. Numerous rune-inscribed armor plates clung to him like seals maintaining his human shape. Beside this imposing figure stood a woman with flowing white hair.

Veronica’s gaze was drawn to the unusual arcane energy emanating from the figure before her. She studied him carefully, then her eyes drifted down to the rune-inscribed armor plates—the ancient metal etched with magical symbols from the era of the Old Gondor Empire. On some of the plates, marks from the Age of Starfire were still faintly visible. Veronica held her stare until they were close enough, then finally looked away.

So this was the legendary ancient mage? The hidden power of the Cecil family?

As Veronica observed Kamail, he too was watching the seemingly casual “Saint Princess” strolling nearby. They regarded each other silently for a long moment, until Veronica broke eye contact. Kamail then took the initiative to speak, “Good evening, Your Highness—was the banquet hall too stifling for you?”

Hearing his voice, Veronica maintained her ever-graceful smile and gave a slight bow. “A breath of fresh air is good for one’s health, Master Kamail. Are you here for the same reason?”

“…I haven’t done much breathing these past years,” Kamail muttered with a low hum, shifting slightly to ease the growing awkwardness. “This is Miss Jennipero, the Cecil family’s rune master.”

“Y-You… hello,” Jennipero said nervously, lifting her skirt slightly as she bowed. Though she had once seen Veronica briefly as part of the “Hundred Aid Corps,” she had never had the chance to speak face-to-face with the legendary princess before. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine, Miss Jennipero.”

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, they passed by each other and went their separate ways.

“I was so nervous just now,” Jennipero whispered once they were some distance away. “But the princess really is quite kind…”

“Is she?” Kamail’s voice was low and rough. “I didn’t notice. All I felt from her was… a familiar yet unsettling presence.”

“A presence? What kind of presence?”

“Divine—she’s either connected to the gods, or she’s been to the divine realm.”

(End of chapter)