Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Things Are About to Get Really Busy

Another day passed while I shoved the heavy stone named Cassian into a corner of my mind.

During preparations for the Council of the Seven Holy Seats, external activities such as expeditions into the Demon Realm were suspended, while the city's defenses were reinforced.

There were three cities directly bordering the Demon Realm.

Athenoa, home of the Nike Order, which worshiped the Goddess of Wisdom and Victory.

Rigor, home of the Justitia Order, which worshiped the Goddess of Order and Justice.

And Cordia, home of our Eris Order, which worshiped the Goddess of Love and Battle.

Attending the Council inevitably created a temporary gap in our forces.

That was why other Orders would send troops to reinforce us.

The remaining four Orders were located in the central or rear regions, which gave them more flexibility with their forces.

Anyway, because we had to receive another Order, this season was always hectic.

We might not care how things looked when it was only us, but with another Order present, we had to present a perfect image.

Naturally, the ones who suffered were the people below.

The Holy Knights had to swing brooms instead of swords.

The priests had to inspect supplies and read ledgers instead of scripture and prayers.

Of course, even the higher-ups were painfully busy.

They spent entire days behind desks clutching their heads over paperwork.

‘But not me.’

The Saintess was technically the Order's second-in-command, yet held almost no real administrative authority or practical power.

Basically, all I had to do was avoid causing trouble and laze around.

So with nothing to do, the first thing I did that morning was challenge Captain Vargas to a spar.

The moment he accepted, the Captain dumped all his work onto Leonid and got ready.

Leonid complained like hell, but unfortunately, the law is far away and the fist is close.

Especially when the people opposing him are the Saintess and the Captain of the Holy Knights.

He never stood a chance.

“Recently, rumors have begun spreading because I haven't been joining expeditions into the Demon Realm. Some say age has finally caught up with me. Others say I've grown weak, or suffered some grave injury and should retire.”

Captain Vargas spoke with a somewhat bitter smile.

“Hmm. Rumors really are terrifying.”

Anyone who saw the Captain wield a sword wouldn't be able to say something like that.

The Captain occasionally complained that his skills were rusting because he hadn't been able to join recent expeditions into the Demon Realm.

But I knew the truth.

His instincts hadn't dulled in the slightest.

“So when the people from the other Orders arrive, I intend to prove otherwise through sparring. At least someone of vice-captain rank should come with them.”

“...So you're planning to beat them up under the excuse of sparring?”

I hadn't expected that kind of thought from the Captain.

I looked at him with surprise.

“I am not you, Saintess. A simple spar should be enough to silence false rumors.”

“...”

Did this man just insult me indirectly?

No, surely not.

Captain Vargas wouldn't do something like that.

With that thought, I faced him.

I summoned Astra into my hand.

At the same time, the Captain drew his beloved sword from his waist with the smooth hiss of steel.

“Shall we begin?”

“Yes. I'll attack immediately.”

My spar with Captain Vargas used actual weapons.

Neither of us was unskilled enough to lose control and inflict a deep wound by accident.

If we wanted to maintain a proper sense for real combat, this was better.

We might end up with a few cuts, but sacred arts could heal those afterward.

Anyway, after one intense round of sparring, I drank the water the Captain brought me and wiped the sweat from my forehead.

“Huaa... That was exhausting. You're incredible as always, Captain.”

“You are the incredible one, Saintess. This old body can hardly keep up with you anymore.”

“Don't exaggerate.”

The match had ended in a draw.

The Captain hadn't managed to properly break through my range, but I hadn't inflicted any meaningful wound on him either.

If we'd fought with our lives on the line, perhaps things would've turned out differently.

But you can't exactly stake your life on a spar, can you?

“So? Think I've improved a little?”

I asked the Captain.

Receiving feedback from a knight of his level was far more useful than agonizing or researching alone.

“As I always think, your spearwork is extremely troublesome. You use excellent footwork to maintain a distance where your spear can reach but a sword cannot. That is essentially the core of your style, is it not?”

He was right, so I nodded.

My spearwork was built around exploiting the weapon's reach and weight to the absolute limit.

“That makes things extremely difficult for a swordsman. Closing the distance without sacrificing something is very hard.”

Was he complimenting me?

Maybe I was imagining it, but this sounded more like complaining.

What the Captain said next only deepened my suspicions.

“If I take one step forward, you retreat precisely one step. You only poke at me from a distance where I cannot swing my sword. It is the kind of spearwork that makes a man think, ‘Damn, what a filthy way to fight.’”

“...So what's the conclusion?”

Ignoring the growing suspicion in my chest, I asked him to get to the point.

“Simply put, your style specializes in irritating the opponent. Anyone impatient or hot-blooded will likely lose control, rush in, and suffer a serious wound.”

“...That sounds like you're insulting me for fighting dirty.”

Is this really an evaluation?

It feels like he's just talking shit about me.

Is it only me?

No, right?

“Of course not.”

“...Seriously?”

“Indeed.”

I was still suspicious, but nodded for now.

“It pleases me to see you improving by the day, Saintess. Your talent is truly enviable.”

“Don't flatter me. You'll dull my spearpoint.”

“I can assure you, praise of this degree will not dull it. Besides, you train diligently every day.”

“Uh... Right. Thanks, Captain.”

What is this?

Carrot and stick?

My suspicions were fading a little.

I suppose there's a reason that strategy has survived for so long.

“Shall we stop here for today?”

“Yeah. I always learn a lot when I spar with you.”

“The same goes for me. It helps me practice maintaining composure in battle.”

“...”

You're not calling my fighting style dirty, right?

Seriously?

Unable to overcome my suspicion, I narrowed my eyes at Captain Vargas.

He quietly avoided my gaze.

I knew it...!

I stared at him with a betrayed expression.

“We should heal our injuries first. If Bartolomew sees us like this, he'll shout loudly enough to shake the training ground.”

“...Hmm. You're right.”

Before my betrayal could evolve into anger, he cut it off.

A truly seasoned knight.

...He used to be painfully rigid.

Now he'd become surprisingly sly.

Well...

That's probably a good change.

People need to know how to loosen up a little.

Living too rigidly like old Bartolomew is exhausting.

Right?

And if the old man really saw us like this, he'd definitely explode.

So just as the Captain said, treating our injuries first was the correct choice.

“We should hurry. I have a bad feeling.”

“Hmm. Before that, Captain, there's something I want to say.”

Still, there was one thing I needed to address.

I'd been thinking about it increasingly often lately.

Somehow, the dignity I should possess as the Order's second-in-command had been...

“Saaaintess!!!!!!”

“Oh, fuck...”

My plan to confront the Captain was utterly destroyed by old Bartolomew's thunderous roar.

“...See? I told you we should heal ourselves first.”

The Captain gave me an annoyingly smug smile.

“And you too, Vargas!!!”

“Whoops.”

This time Captain Vargas pulled his neck in like a turtle.

“Captain.”

“Yes, Saintess?”

“Run?”

“Let's.”

The Captain and I looked at each other and nodded.

Then, at the exact same moment, we kicked off the ground and tried to sprint in the opposite direction from the old man...

“Guhk!”

“Ghk.”

Chains of divine power wrapped around us before we could take a single step, sending us crashing face-first into the ground.

Bartolomew's restraining sacred art.

...He actually used a sacred art?

I lay there with my face buried in the dirt, completely unable to move.

Listening to approaching footsteps, I swallowed nervously.

“We were only sparring.”

“...”

Step, step.

Tap.

When the footsteps stopped directly above my head, I offered the excuse in a tiny voice.

No answer came.

I cautiously lifted my head.

Old Bartolomew's eyes were filled with insane fury.

I had absolutely no confidence in enduring that gaze, so I immediately buried my face back in the dirt.

“You are the symbol and face of this Order, Saintess! Does rolling around on the ground reeking of blood with the Captain of the Holy Knights sound appropriate to you?! Especially with the Council right around the corner!”

“Come on, old man... This is all to keep our instincts sharp for real combat...”

“And you too, Vargas! You're the Captain! Instead of stopping her, you're happily swinging your sword right beside her!”

The old man completely ignored my words and turned his wrath on Captain Vargas.

“Listen, old Bar. I—”

“Enough! And throw away that ridiculous ‘old man’ title! I'm still in my fifties!”

Under the old man's roar, even Captain Vargas had no choice but to keep his nose planted in the dirt and shut up.

...Still, old man.

You've clearly been holding a grudge about that title.

Originally everyone had called him Archbishop.

Then I started calling him ‘old man,’ and somehow the title took over even his actual office.

But that isn't really my fault, is it?

“Vargas! Have you forgotten the dignity expected of a knight?! And Saintess, the same goes for you! If the Captain is running wild like an unbridled horse, you should be correcting him, not encouraging him beside him! Both of you engrave this into your hearts! ‘Saintess’ and ‘Captain of the Holy Knights’ are not labels picked up off the ground at some marketplace! Today I shall make you understand the virtues of a Saintess, and teach the Captain the restraint demanded of knighthood until it reaches your very bones...”

...And so began a terrifying lecture.

For an entire hour, we had to lie face-down on the training ground while listening to the old man's grand speeches on ‘Introduction to Saintliness’ and ‘The Spirit of Chivalry.’

“No more sparring until you return from the Council! Both of you behave yourselves and help with the work!”

With that final declaration, the old man spun around and left.

Once his presence faded into the distance, I slowly turned my head toward the Captain lying beside me.

“Captain, when I said ‘run,’ we should've run faster.”

“...My apologies, Saintess. I didn't expect the old man to use sacred arts.”

Comradeship grows stronger through shared hardship.

We comforted each other while looking at our miserable states.

“But the old man left without dispelling the sacred art. I still can't move.”

“...Perhaps he wants us to keep our heads down and reflect a little longer.”

“Maybe. Still, he healed our injuries before leaving. But you know...”

...Wouldn't the sight of the Saintess and the Captain lying side by side face-down in the training ground damage the ‘dignity of the Order’ more than anything else?

I wanted to say that.

But the old man had already disappeared far into the distance.

“If you had said that aloud, old Bar really might have collapsed clutching the back of his neck.”

“That's why I didn't.”

I know how to read a room too.

If I'd said that, we'd probably have been lying here getting lectured until sunset.

“By the way, Saintess.”

“Yeah?”

“How long do you intend to leave the Hero candidate like that?”

“...You too, Captain?”

First Leonid, now Captain Vargas.

A faint sigh escaped me as the same topic came up again.

I'd finally managed to get Cassian out of sight by having him moved away from the training ground.

Yet if people kept bringing him up like this, I couldn't stop thinking about him.

“It's simply not a good look. Reinforcements from another Order will arrive soon. If they see the Hero candidate acting like that and learn the Saintess caused it...”

“...Bad rumors would spread. Just like the strange rumors about you. Rumors are terrifying. Leonid told me people say our Holy Knights are cowards who hide under my skirts trembling whenever a battle starts.”

Me always fighting at the front had somehow turned into the Holy Knights being too afraid to fight.

The Captain not participating in Demon Realm expeditions had somehow turned into him being washed up.

Rumors truly were terrifying.

“Such rumors are spreading? I cannot overlook that. I shall double the training volume.”

“...How the hell did you reach that conclusion?”

“Such rumors exist because we are still insufficient. If everyone trains themselves to the bone and grows strong enough, there will be no room for such rumors, will there?”

“...Uh, sure.”

...Not my problem anyway.

I nodded.

Holy Knights, good luck.

I cheered them on internally.

Not that they'd hear it.

“Returning to the matter at hand, to be honest, when I first saw Cassian, I felt an inexplicable sense of danger. There was nothing visibly wrong with him, yet my instincts screamed at me to draw my sword and cut his head off immediately.”

“Really?”

The instincts of a veteran warrior who had survived countless crises could sometimes be more trustworthy than any visible proof.

So that was why the usually composed Captain had immediately reached for his sword when Cassian approached me in the audience chamber.

“But now, he seems different.”

“How?”

“When I saw him briefly, that sense of danger was gone.”

“...”

Captain Vargas must've seen how strangely different Cassian had become too.

Of course he had.

Cassian had been kneeling in the training ground.

It would've been stranger if he hadn't noticed.

“So please, Saintess. Think about it one more time.”

“Fine.”

I answered with a faint sigh.

If even the Captain was saying this, I couldn't simply refuse.

Right.

Stop avoiding him and actually face him once.

Either way, it was something I eventually had to resolve by going to see him.

If I kept letting my mind stay this tangled, I wouldn't be able to focus on anything else.

But I couldn't act on that decision.

A soft yet majestic bell suddenly rang out from the Order's main gate.

“What? That bell means...”

“It seems the reinforcements from the Harmonia Order have arrived.”

The Order serving Harmonia, God of Harmony and Temperance.

They were the allied troops assigned to fill the gap in our forces during the Council.

“Already? I thought they were supposed to arrive tomorrow.”

“That was the schedule, but perhaps they moved it forward. As long as they aren't late, arriving early should not be a problem.”

I nodded.

Being early was definitely better than being late.

Though receiving allied troops a full day earlier than expected meant our Order was about to become insanely busy.

“Things are about to get really busy.”

“They will. They'll probably gather every available hand to prepare for receiving the reinforcements. We cannot leave allied soldiers standing outside the city gates for long. That would be discourteous.”

“Hmm. Right.”

At some point, the restraining sacred art the old man had placed on us had already disappeared.

But as though we'd made a silent agreement, neither of us rose from the ground.

“How long do you think this sacred art will last?”

“I am not sure.”

The Captain answered shamelessly despite the obvious intention behind my question.

See?

Thanks to me, he's really learned how to take life a little easier.

In the old days, he would've jumped up immediately and started whipping the knights into shape.

“Then I guess we should stay like this until it wears off?”

“I suppose we should.”

Good.

Having completed our silent agreement, the two of us lowered our heads back into the dirt.