Chapter 111: Not for War and Destruction
“If this is a case of receiving early intel, knowing we were coming, and at the same time the city bursts into an internal riot, as Archbishop Hoffman puts it, Pope Angel decided to seal the city to first deal with the church’s inner troubles before turning his attention to us…”
“But having met the Pope in person, disregard for where the Temple Church got wind of our arrival, this timid way of doing things totally isn’t his style.”
“You think so?”
Magipanny shot him a sidelong glance.
That glance made Tarlasya’s heart tighten immediately.
He suddenly remembered that the teacher absolutely detests people who constantly start with “I think,” believing that whatever follows is nothing but baseless nonsense or absurd guesses—meaningless drivel.
Tarlasya hastily tried to explain, “I—”
But was abruptly interrupted by Magipanny’s stern voice, “So how complicated do you think the situation should be?”
That was clearly a question directed at him.
Her tone carried a hint of annoyance, and Tarlasya, having spent the most time with her, was adept at hearing the emotions hidden in her words.
He didn’t quite understand why his teacher felt displeased, but there were some things Tarlasya had to say at this moment.
“If, I mean, if…”
The man pondered, scanned the surroundings, then took another look at the distant sky, where the soaring golden light reached for the clouds, and seriously said, “Is it possible that the thing in the Holy City has already broken the seal?”
“……”
Magipanny halted, tapping her cane on the ground, creating a loud thud, and turned her head to look at him for a moment.
“Have you lost your mind?”
After that rhetorical question, the woman seemed unperturbed as she continued walking, her pace slightly quickening.
Tarlasya, momentarily in a daze, hurried to catch up, “I’m not making baseless speculations, Teacher.”
He jogged alongside Magipanny, creating distance from the others. His towering figure, over two meters tall, made the barely 170-centimeter-tall ‘Meteor Shower’ seem remarkably petite.
Yet the atmosphere between them couldn’t be more opposite; the powerful swordsman, fire wielder Tarlasya, always appeared overly cautious in front of his respected teacher.
“I’ve told you all that I know about the Empire and the incident with Silvya…”
He bent slightly, lowering his voice, “Right now, the Mother Deity’s seal is evidently on the brink, yet the Temple Church outright denies it. What’s really going on in the Holy City that they think sealing the entire place is credible? Who would believe that?”
“Yet, including St. George, they all seem to be intentionally avoiding these issues. Even you told me to keep my mouth shut, but—”
“Shh.”
Cutting him off, Magipanny suddenly raised her index finger to her lips, “There’s no ‘but’. Ata, what you’re saying isn’t important to the Star Association.”
With a frosty expression, she insisted, “Or do you truly intend to lay everything on the line, willing to give your all for St. George to help him sit in that highest chair of the Temple Church?”
Her words took Tarlasya aback.
Just then, someone hurriedly walked by—a member of the Star Association’s intel team. He approached Magipanny, glanced at Tarlasya, then leaned in to whisper in her ear, “It’s confirmed, Sword Saint Ryan is indeed not in the Royal City…”
Tarlasya heard that loud and clear.
Magipanny nodded in response and waved him off.
She ignored the complexity in Tarlasya’s eyes as she ascended toward a high point, gazing across the long bridge of Lahram at the vaguely shimmering Holy City of gold.
In her eyes, a glimmer of eagerness began to show.
…………
About ten kilometers outside the Holy City.
In a dilapidated wooden house, an elderly man resembling a farmer sat across from a stern-looking woman, both engaged in a peculiar game of chess. They were dressed simply while standing beside them was Beiyard, who had just rushed over from Holy Angel Fortress to report on the detailed situation.
“Are they the ones calling all the shots on establishing the teleportation node?”
Plop.
A golden chess piece was placed down as the old man retracted his hand, smiling widely, “What do you think about this, Miss Sharman?”
The woman named Sharman stared at the chessboard for a moment, shaking her head as if in surrender.
“Not appropriate.”
“Oh?” The old man raised an eyebrow, “In what way is it inappropriate?”
“Too risky.”
Sharman replied, “If the city is determined to ambush us, they could have been preparing for ten days or half a month already, informing us only on the eve. At that point, we wouldn’t even have a chance to escape.”
Actually, she had chosen her words carefully.
“Well, what do you mean by that…”
The old man pondered, “Is it very likely that the Holy City is still tightly sealed?”
“Well, that’s unlikely.”
Sharman shook her head again, “Pope Angel is an autocrat; two years ago, he already incurred fierce dissatisfaction from the neutral faction of the Council. With the later events, Cardinal Nero’s d*ath in the Royal City bred contempt in Archbishop Hoffman…”
“He had been hesitant to show himself earlier due to various concerns. Now the circumstances have come to this—the stars have aligned for Angel’s downfall. The Temple Church can no longer maintain its pretense of peace, even the owls have started to split into factions—this shows something’s amiss.”
“But—”
As she spoke, her tone took a sudden turn, “What we currently don’t know is which faction holds the upper hand in the city.”
“Is it the Temple Church that Hoffman claims to have under his control, those on the high chairs who only use their brains? Or are they really the power players led by Pope Angel, Cardinal Michel, Cardinal Elena, and the Choir of Saints? We have no way of knowing. The only faction we can reach is just one of them.”
“They seem more anxious than us.”
Beiyard interjected suddenly, “The terms they offered were extremely loose, and once we inquire about detailed circumstances in the city, they immediately start evading the issue, only wanting to open the entrance and let people in. Their attitude is incredibly blatant, even—”
At this point, he paused and instinctively glanced at St. George.
“Even towards grandpa’s clerical status, if Williams returns to the Temple Church, they avoid discussing the power dynamics of the Holy City altogether. Those old codgers are blatantly avoiding it.”
“They can’t possibly overlook this; they’re just choosing to ignore it. Essentially, they believe the situation won’t reach that stage. I don’t understand why they think this way, but it feels dangerous.”
“Beiyard makes a good point.”
Sharman picked up from him, “I believe before making any decisions, we should think of a way to clarify the real situation in the Holy City.”
“And how do we clarify?”
St. George looked at the two, still wearing that same smile and his unruffled demeanor, “Without the power of ‘the world,’ who among us can enter that city? And without entering, how can we fully understand what’s going on inside?”
“……”
Sharman fell silent, and Beiyard frowned in thought.
“See? If we’re all going to be cautious, doesn’t the situation end up in a deadlock?”
The old man continued, “But do we have time to keep burning daylight like this?”
“We are out of time, the Western Continent is out of time, and the Church has even less. Continuing like this, with schemes entwined and no trust amongst us, as everyone tries to be the last winner, in the end, everyone will lose entirely.”
As the old man spoke, he slowly began to stand up while leaning on the edge of the table, and Sharman and Beiyard rushed to help him.
“Pray not for war and destruction, but for peace and understanding.”
The old man shook his head helplessly, chuckling, “You youngsters think this old man at my age says such things just for show?”
Sharman and Beiyard exchanged bewildered glances and exclaimed, “Do you mean to say—”
“We can’t keep bickering like this.”
The elder waved off their supporting hands, stepping out of the wooden house. He raised his head and gazed at the brilliant light above, speaking earnestly, “A person cannot keep learning from beasts, continuing to tear each other apart; otherwise, we’ll end up just like those exterminated tribes.”
He took a slow, deep breath.
“How many can truly wake up to this simple truth in the end…”
