Chapter 105

Lecashe, whose victories had been pouring in day after day, finally arrived in the capital.

They still hadn't managed to stamp out the rumors, but Iberin held a calm expression.

Ether, who'd been anxious, along with Nais and Rotte, now looked just as composed as Iberin.

No — they actually looked happy.

Bwoooo—

The horn sounded, and the heroes of the western campaign came into view, marching across the drawbridge.

At the very front walked Grand Duke Lecashe and Duke Cherity.

The duke, who'd been in the capital not long ago, had somehow gone back and returned, and now he was waving casually.

The people cheered.

The truth was, the monster threat everyone had been losing sleep over had been brought under control.

"Waaaah—"

Walking through the cheers, the men crossing the drawbridge looked proud, every one of them tall in the chest.

Iberin watched it all and smiled.

"But where's the Grand Duke Lecashe?"

She could hear people murmuring around her.

It seemed nobody had even considered that the man next to Duke Cherity might be Lecashe.

And it made sense — to everyone here, Lecashe was supposed to be unimaginably hideous.

"Don't tell me — the one next to the duke…?"

"No, he's way too good-looking for that."

"A face that could go toe to toe with the duke's."

People muttered in confusion.

"Maybe he's so hideous he's hiding among the soldiers?"

"Then who's the guy next to the duke?"

The conversation looped right back to where it started.

While everyone stood there in denial, refusing to believe it, the emperor on the dais called Lecashe's name.

"Grand Duke Lyssel Lecashe, step forward."

The man beside Duke Cherity moved, naturally.

Because he was Lecashe.

But somehow, audible gasps broke out all around her.

It wasn't only the commoners who were shocked — the nobles were too.

The Grand Duke Lecashe?

That's the real Grand Duke Lecashe?

They said he was hideous!

Stunned voices rose in every direction, but Iberin only smiled to herself, warm and pleased.

My husband really is the best!

It was the kind of doting thought she couldn't help.

Then the emperor launched into his speech praising Lecashe.

And then, from the back row, the high priest's hand shot up as if he had an objection.

"Are all of you aware?"

"High Priest, what are you doing?"

The emperor's tone was scolding — he hadn't given the high priest permission to speak. But he didn't stop him either.

It looked exactly like a setup.

"The strange rumor going around the capital. The one that says the true culprit behind all of this was the Lecashe Grand Duke's house."

Hh.

The crowd's murmuring swelled.

It had been only a rumor, but coming from the high priest, the weight of it landed differently.

It's true?

But despite the noise, Lyssel just looked at the high priest, perfectly calm.

"What is it you want to say."

"I want you to bring evidence that it isn't true. Doesn't it strike you as strange? Monsters that stayed quiet in the forest for thousands of years, suddenly launching a great migration?"

"I have no knowledge of it, so I'm not sure what evidence you expect me to bring."

"The people want evidence they can accept."

The emperor, who'd been listening quietly, jumped in.

"I've heard the rumor myself, but I refuse to believe it. After everything Lecashe has done for Aleta, there's no way."

It was pure hypocrisy.

Iberin let out a snort and shared a look with Cherity, who was still standing there like a statue.

"I'd like to say something too."

"What is it?"

"Before the temple demands an explanation from Lecashe, shouldn't they first address the questions surrounding the Saintess?"

The high priest's face went cold, like he hadn't expected that from Cherity.

A ceremony that was supposed to celebrate the victory had somehow turned into a public hearing.

It was almost farcical. The crowd looked back and forth between the men on the dais, completely lost.

The high priest fired back as if he had no idea what was going on.

"What are you talking about, Duke?"

"This isn't how an high priest should act."

"What? Just what do you think you're doing?"

The high priest let out a sharp, dry laugh and went on the attack.

The imperial subjects who'd come out to the square to watch the victory ceremony had no idea what to make of any of it.

That was when someone shouted.

"There! What's that?!"

A young girl stood alone in the middle of the square.

She wore a white priest's robe, but her appearance was somehow ravaged.

She was pale, her dry lips cracked open everywhere, scabbed over with dried blood.

Her hair, too, hadn't been combed — it hung tangled around her face.

"Rozelia!"

Iberin recognized the girl in one look.

"When did Rozelia get there?"

"I — I don't know."

Rotte, Kal, and Nais all looked equally thrown.

Iberin's eyes flicked, almost on their own, to Duke Cherity.

The duke caught her eye, winked, and grinned.

She didn't need confirmation — this was clearly the man's doing.

She'd gotten his promise to return Rozelia safely to Lecashe, so she'd let herself relax on that front. She'd never imagined the girl would just turn up like this.

"How — how did she —"

The high priest couldn't possibly have failed to recognize the Saintess either.

Her condition was terrible.

Iberin nearly bolted forward on instinct, but Nais stopped her.

"The duke clearly has a plan in mind. Let's watch a bit first. Besides, the Saintess you've described doesn't sound like the gentle type. If she didn't want to be there, she wouldn't be standing there quietly."

"Even so —"

Just then, Rozelia seemed to spot Iberin in the crowd.

Their eyes locked, definitely.

"Rozel!"

The shout broke from Iberin on reflex, and Rozelia gave her a small, reassuring smile.

In the next instant, a holy light burst out of Rozelia's body.

People dropped to the ground, flat on their faces, sobbing in awe.

"Kyaaa!"

Oh — dear god, the Saintess has appeared before us for the first time in thousands of years!

Even the high priest had his eyes glued to the light — never mind ordinary imperial subjects.

People wept, beside themselves, as though a god had descended.

"Oh — Saintess…"

"My god!"

Duke Cherity, who clearly had a hand in all of this, was also gazing at the light like a man under a spell.

The high priest came back to himself in a rush and tried to scramble down off the dais, but Lyssel blocked his path, and Rozelia's voice cracked across the square like lightning.

"Don't come near me!"

"S-Saintess."

The high priest flinched.

Rozelia let her gaze sweep slowly over the crowd, every face still trembling with awe, and spoke.

"I'd like to file charges against the temple."

A wave of muttering ran through the crowd.

"Saintess, what are you saying! Charges — that's absurd!"

The high priest's voice rose, panicked.

But Rozelia clenched her jaw and went on.

"You heard me. The temple is rotten through and through. I have no intention of living as the Saintess in a place run by a high priest like you."

"Please, don't do this. Please, come down."

The high priest pleaded with her, but Rozelia kept pouring it out.

"Everyone, I grew up at an orphanage, and I was taken to the temple because I was born with the makings of a Saintess. The temple said I hadn't manifested holy power yet, so I wasn't a full Saintess — and they forced me to live confined."

And then came the rest.

The high priest yelled, frantic, and tried to clamp a hand over her mouth. But this was the Aleta Holy Empire.

Over ninety percent of imperial subjects believed in the god.

Even a high priest couldn't get in the way when it came to something involving the Saintess.

Knights moved in immediately and gagged the high priest, and he kept thrashing and shouting through it, looking more wretched by the second.

The imperial subjects watching couldn't help thinking — this is the high priest?

And he'd kept the Saintess locked up!

What came next was even more shocking.

"I escaped. But I was a child, and the orphanage couldn't do anything. I was terrified the temple would come looking for me — and then I met His Highness the Grand Duke Lecashe."

The crowd faltered at the sudden mention of Lecashe.

The Saintess and Lecashe — that wasn't a pairing anyone could square.

But Rozelia didn't slow down.

"The orphanage was always warm and gentle to me, but Lecashe felt like real family. I was happy enough that I'd practically forgotten what the temple had done — and then the war with the monsters broke out, and His Highness left for the west. That's when the priests who came found me and kidnapped me back to the temple."

Rozelia pulled the hem of her robe up to her thighs.

The marks were stark — where something heavy had cut into her skin, the bruising and grooves were still raw.

Her wrists, the same.

"How could anyone do that to the Saintess!"

"I wasn't at the temple by my own will. It was agony."

"…Hh."

The crowd was too stunned to speak.

But Rozelia's story wasn't over.

"Holding on through every day on the faith that Lecashe would come find me, I escaped again. And in the place I was hiding, I found a mountain of bones piled up…"

What?

Even Iberin, who'd been listening intently, jerked her head up.

Bones?

"The energy I felt was the same on all of them. Bodies born with stronger holy power than most. Saintesses."

"Aaagh!"

The high priest let out a strangled, fit-like scream.

Now, no one could open their mouth.

Rozelia kept muttering it out, like someone reliving what she'd just seen with her own eyes.

She looked badly shaken — unsteady.

Then her color drained away, and the next moment she dropped where she stood, crumpling to the ground.

"Rozel!"

Iberin reacted and broke into a run, but Lyssel was faster.

He came off the dais in a single motion and caught Rozelia before she hit the ground.

"Rozel…"

Iberin's face went serious as she checked her over.

A twitch.

Rozelia cracked one eye open, and their gazes met head-on.

"…Rozel?"

"…"

Then the eye squeezed shut again, deliberately.

Only then did Iberin catch on.

The whole thing was an act.