Episode 110: The Fanatic
‘How did he know?’
Cain’s expression froze completely. His face betrayed his shock. No one could have possibly noticed his hidden intentions, yet Yohan Lahart had seen right through them.
How? Where did the information leak from? That couldn’t be. Cain’s reason for targeting Francia Fervache was tied to a “curse.” That curse was Cain’s secret, something no one else could know.
“I’m not sure what you mean… As the archbishop of the Holy Kingdom, I wouldn’t have any personal reason to come to the Empire, would I?”
Cain chose to feign ignorance.
“If that were true, I wouldn’t have traveled with the expedition. I would have infiltrated the Empire in secret. That would make things much smoother.”
He backed it up with reasoning—
A tactic Cain often used when telling lies.
While most people mixed lies with truths to make them more convincing, the more effective approach was to provide reasoning.
“…”
Yohan narrowed his eyes. If Cain had panicked and rambled, it would have eased his suspicions. But Cain’s calm rebuttal only made him more suspicious.
Perhaps it was because he was already on guard and doubting him, but Yohan was no stranger to Cain Luhar’s character.
‘The fact that he’s acting like this means…’
Just as Yohan had questioned, Cain had ulterior motives. For instance, perhaps he had come for Francia.
‘I don’t know why, but that’s the only explanation that comes to mind.’
Did he hate the Empire so much that he had come for revenge? Doubtful. That seemed highly unlikely. It wasn’t as though he intended to sabotage the operation to seal the demonic’s lairs.
‘The risks and rewards don’t align.’
Sabotaging the mission at Rozino’s demonic lairs might offer a fleeting sense of satisfaction. But in return, Cain would lose his position as archbishop and everything he had built.
It didn’t make sense.
‘In the end, it all points to one thing.’
He was targeting Francia.
Yohan didn’t know the reason, but it seemed the most plausible.
Why?
As the archbishop, traveling with the expedition would make it easier for Cain to meet Francia.
“I see. My apologies. It’s rare for someone of your stature to act personally, Archbishop, and it seems I’ve been overly sensitive. I apologize.”
Yohan forced a smile. There was no choice but to step back for now.
“It’s fine. Your doubts are understandable. As you know, the relationship between the Holy Kingdom and the Empire isn’t exactly amicable. I understand your position as well, Director.”
Yohan’s probing had been rather inappropriate, but it wasn’t unjustifiable. Anyone would feel the same, considering the strained relationship between the Holy Kingdom and the Empire.
Cain continued,
“However, this isn’t about national relations. This is the first step toward saving the continent, isn’t it? I couldn’t possibly sit this out. Relations between nations aren’t what’s important here.”
In essence, Cain represented the Holy Kingdom, Pantheon. While the Saintess was at the center of the expedition, Cain Luhar was the strongest and most influential archbishop of the Holy Kingdom.
“Understood.”
Yohan decided to end the conversation here. Words wouldn’t suffice anymore—it was time to observe actions.
“My aide, Elena, will distribute the operation plans. You must be exhausted from your long journey. Please rest.”
***
At the heart of the capital stood a luxury inn where only authorized nobles could stay.
It existed to accommodate foreign envoys or esteemed guests invited by the Imperial Family.
The expedition from the Holy Kingdom, Pantheon was also staying there.
Though their numbers were large, the sheer size of the inn meant it wasn’t an issue. Supported by the Imperial Family and high-ranking nobles, it was far more than just one building.
Thus, the Holy Knights and priests were enjoying a break in the inn’s lobby, sampling Imperial cuisine or pairing it with drinks.
However, the beverages they drank were far from ordinary alcohol—they were ‘holy water’ made in Pantheon’s sanctuary. Instead of intoxicating them, it enhanced their recovery abilities, akin to a potion.
To them, it was their version of alcohol.
Clink.
A glass was placed on the table.
“Saintess, are you feeling tired from the journey?”
Archbishop Cain asked with a gentle smile. Perhaps because he had consumed sacred water, the fatigue had vanished from his face.
“Huh? Tired? No, not at all. Do I seem that way?”
Arbella, who had been looking downcast, blinked at his question. Her large eyes were filled with confusion.
“Yes. Ever since you met the director, you’ve seemed out of energy. Did something happen?”
“That’s…”
Just as she was about to answer, Arbella’s shoulders drooped. Her eyelids lowered, and the vibrant sparkle that always filled her eyes grew dim.
“I was so sure the Saint was destined to be my husband, but I was told we could never be together… Does this mean my connection with the Saint ends here…?”
Arbella had hoped for a pure, destined love—one tied by fate itself. She had never desired an impure connection where she would take another woman’s man.
Thus, her long-cherished meeting with the Saint had dealt her a massive shock. It was almost as if the goddess Freyja’s will had become sullied.
“Haha, please don’t be too disheartened. Isn’t this all part of the will of Goddess Freyja? Surely, there is something beyond our understanding at play here.”
Cain spoke with a carefree laugh, but Arbella’s eyes suddenly flared open.
“Ah, you’re absolutely right! True love often requires trials and tribulations…! Surely, Freyja wishes for eternal love between the Saint and me!”
The dim light in her eyes quickly reignited, and strength returned to her once-slumped shoulders. Her faith in the goddess Freyja and her feelings for Saint Yohan only grew stronger.
“I, Arbella, cannot give up like this! For the will of Freyja and for my love, I will do my best to approach the Saint!”
Arbella clasped her delicate hands together and closed her eyes, as if offering a prayer.
“I’m glad to see you’ve regained your spirit.”
Cain smiled as he observed her usual demeanor returning. Yet, his eyes did not smile along with him.
‘…I’ll have to use Arbella to get closer.’
For some reason, Yohan Lahart was suspicious of him. That meant he needed to divert Yohan’s attention. And since Lady Fervache was Yohan’s fiancée, she became the key.
‘Her position isn’t bad, either.’
A shadow crossed Cain’s face.
The army mobilized for the current operation to seal the demonic lair had been divided into five units, with Lady Fervache assigned to the third. Cain himself was with the second, right beside hers.
‘That’ll naturally lead to interaction, and I’ll be able to assess Lady Fervache’s abilities.’
The purification magic she possessed. With it, the curse could be broken.
The curse that had tormented him relentlessly for over 25 years.
“Um, Archbishop Cain?”
As Cain sank into his thoughts, Arbella waved her delicate hand in front of his face.
“…Ah, did you call me?”
“Yes. I called you, but you didn’t respond, so I waved my hand.”
Suddenly, Arbella’s eyes lit up, and she asked with a gleam of curiosity.
“Oh, was it something important you were thinking about?”
“Haha… Not at all. Feel free to speak your mind. What is it you wanted to ask?”
Cain smiled benevolently.
“I have no idea about men’s preferences! Could you tell me what men usually find attractive in women, Archbishop Cain?”
For the past 20 years, Arbella had never once considered men’s preferences. She had no reason to, nor any desire.
But now, she had to learn.
She had to win over Saint Yohan Lahart’s heart!
“Hmm… Honestly, I’m not sure either. I’ve lived a life far removed from feelings like love.”
Cain furrowed his brows and stroked his chin.
“And… even if you asked not just me but the other holy knights or priests, they’d likely say the same. Saint Yohan isn’t like most men.”
Arbella tilted her head in confusion.
“Not like most men? What do you mean?”
“In terms of what he finds attractive in women.” Cain replied.
“By charm, do you mean just appearance and personality?”
“Haha, not exactly.”
Kane’s expression softened as he spoke.
“Charm encompasses a lot more—status, abilities, wealth, character, and even background. That’s why noble families in places like the Rozino Empire arrange political marriages.”
This was a common notion in nations dominated by aristocratic societies, but for Arbella, who had been born and raised in the Holy Kingdom under the goddess Freyja—a land where all were deemed equal—it was a foreign concept.
“I see! Then I must be someone incredibly charming in Rozino! I’m flawless in every category!”
Hearing his explanation, Arbella felt her confidence surge. With her background as a saintess, her striking beauty, and her warm and considerate personality, she lacked nothing!
“Haha, that’s true. While I don’t know Saint Yohan’s exact preferences, if it’s you, Saintess, you’ll surely win his heart.”
Cain nodded with a composed smile. After all, it wasn’t an entirely unfounded statement.
Arbella suddenly leapt to her feet, holding her breath firmly. Her small fists clenched tightly with determination.
“I, Arbella, will definitely win Saint Yohan’s heart!”
***
The celestial mage’s library, now in ruins after fierce battles and the passage of time.
Rudbeckia stood at the center of the library, pouring every ounce of her mana into the crystal orb.
“Hngh…!”
As she inhaled sharply, her fingertips trembled. The more mana she exerted, the more her body was consumed by a sinking pain. But she gritted her teeth, continuing to pour her power into the orb.
“Just a little more… just a little…!”
Her voice was hoarse, her green eyes tinged with a faint madness.
“Ugh…”
A pained groan escaped her dry lips. And no wonder—she had been pushing herself for months without proper rest, meals, or water.
Despite the crushing exhaustion, hunger, and thirst, Rudbeckia endured as she focused on the regression magic tome.
Her face had grown gaunt, her skin pale, but her green eyes still shone with vitality. They reflected hope—a desperate yearning.
‘I’ve deciphered the incantations, and I’m ready. All that’s left is to gather the mana.’
At first, everything seemed hopeless. As a mere first-circle mage, Rudbeckia’s mana was insufficient to charge the celestial mage’s crystal orb, and deciphering the runes was no easy feat.
Yet she managed to make progress in deciphering the runes, thanks to the lessons she had learned from Yohan. The incantations written in the regression magic tome weren’t overly complex, either.
The real obstacle had been filling the orb with mana, and she had nearly given up in despair. Her own mana simply wasn’t enough to meet the required volume.
But even so, Rudbeckia found a solution.
The answer lay in the residual mana emanating from the lifeless body of the Tower Master, discarded in a corner.
As a transcendent mage and once the continent’s strongest, the Tower Master’s mana still saturated the library even after death. Gathering that lingering power had provided a significant boost.
Now, Rudbeckia was on the brink of completing the regression spell.
‘Just a little more.’
She desperately wanted to meet Yohan again.
Even if it was just a one-sided love, the person needed to be alive for there to be any hope.