Chapter Twenty-Two: Anacelis
Turning her head, Anacelis spotted a group of church knights, armor tossed aside for more comfortable clothing, gathered around a bonfire about ten meters away. They were chatting and drinking, their faces lit by the flame which gave them a cheery, slightly tipsy look. Just moments ago, a brown-haired young knight had boasted, “She’s in the Royal City right now, and there’s been some big news over there… my sister is a remarkable hero, she even made it to the news last week! Let me show you…”
With cheeks flushed from alcohol, he fumbled through his pocket and pulled out a small, neatly folded piece of paper. He spread it out in front of the fire, proudly pointing at a picture on it, claiming, “See? This is my sister. You’ve never seen her, but she looks even better than this picture! She’s both strong and stunning… Before I left home, she sent a little bag of coins to Grandma, telling her to eat well and that she misses the village and us…”
He tilted his chin slightly, a display of pure pride.
The other knights exchanged curious glances as they looked at the drawing. One couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“Hey Barry, are you drunk or what?”
“Who’s going to wake him up?”
“I’ll take a whizz, let me at him…”
Someone pretended to stand up but was quickly pulled back down by laughter.
“Isn’t that Miss Silvya?”
“Open your eyes! That’s definitely not Miss Silvya, it’s just Barry’s sister… Hahaha!”
“Funny enough, I’ve got one too…” a gruff-looking knight pulled out a crumpled paper from his jacket, displaying it to the others. “Look, it’s a drawing of Miss Silvya, cut from the news, right?”
“Hey! Turns out you guys all… Sorry, I’ve got one too…”
“Barry, my dude, come on, let me meet your sister! She’s been on my mind day and night…”
“You can only wish about that in your dreams…”
“And in your booze!”
“Hahahahaha—”
The banter escalated, and Barry’s face turned crimson, irritation creeping in, “You… I’m serious! I’m not lying! She really is my sister!”
“Sure, sure!”
“Barry, you’ve really mastered the art of bragging! No wonder you hang out with Mor…”
“Hey Barry, nope, that’s wrong. From now on, I’ll just call you Bro. Can I think of myself as your sister’s husband now?”
“Hahahahaha—”
“You… don’t stuff your sister’s picture in your pants!”
“Alrighty, Bro Barry.”
The laughter grew louder, drinks flowing, and with too much alcohol, they were all being ridiculous. Anacelis, standing off to the side watching for a while, found it all a bit tiresome. Noticing someone glance her way, she panicked and quickly turned to leave, her sword cradled in her arms, passing countless lit tents, ignoring two small groups of knights who awkwardly bowed to her as she marched past.
Soon enough, Anacelis reached the seaside.
The majestic waves crashed at her feet, a briny sea breeze whipped at her face. She strolled along the sandy shore alone, leaving a trail of tiny footprints behind her.
To the left, the dock saw warships hoist their white sails yet again, gliding towards the ocean under the night sky, muffled voices drifting her way. The icy sea waves relentlessly rolled in, soaking her worn shoes, and soon enough her rough linen clothes felt damp too.
She glanced around and spotted a round stone, about her height, not far away. She walked over, lightly hopped onto its top, kicked off her shoes, and sat down barefoot.
The sea breeze rustled her clothes, her hair flowing wildly as Anacelis gazed calmly into the distance. Her delicate face, reminiscent of a child, held her sword close, while her starry eyes reflected the countless flickering flames from the ships on the water.
Lost in her thoughts before she knew it.
It had been four days since that not-so-intense skirmish on the sea.
Four days ago, Commander Nick led several warships to confront the enemy. The knights were fired up, swearing to fight heretics to the bitter end in defense of their honor.
However, what they didn’t expect was to encounter a rabble of easily frightened foes.
As flames blazed on the sea and masts lit up, the two fleets drew closer. Anacelis boarded the enemy ship; the heretics fought bravely, but after a few kills, she was stunned to discover that most of these so-called “vicious” enemies could barely wield their swords.
The fight ended quite quickly—more shockingly than one could believe. The heretics from the Eastern Continent were met with destruction; many jumped into the sea, never to surface again. Within half an hour, the enemy declared their surrender.
The knights captured a lot of people, but a brief interrogation revealed they were just merchants from the Eastern Continent.
Yet there were indeed a few individuals among them capable of wielding the Sin Fire.
However… they were quite inexperienced.
To Anacelis, their strength and skills resembled that of clumsy toddlers—weak and barely competent, far from what she had anticipated.
It shouldn’t be like this…
Even she thought so; Commander Nick, an experienced military leader, noticed the oddity and quickly ordered a retreat, suspecting a ruse. Surely the real attack must lie elsewhere. But when they returned home, everything seemed calm; nothing had happened.
However, he soon found that he could not contact the informant who had been passing along messages.
Over the past few days, the church knights combed through the coastal area thoroughly and continued a massive search on the sea, but as four days rolled by, it appeared fruitless. The captives disclosed that among them were indeed some heretics, yet they claimed to know nothing, asserting they were merely here to transport a large quantity of Lotus Seed Grass back to the Eastern Continent. This place was rarely visited by the Sixth Knights Order, making it one of their usual delivery locations, but they never expected such an aggressive ambush.
Commander Nick was of course skeptical of their claims and ordered some to be burned alive, but it was to no avail; the surviving captives were terrified. Anacelis caught a glimpse of them in a clearing several miles away from the village. Many were on their knees begging for mercy, while others hung lifeless from trees, yet it seemed they truly knew nothing.
Commander Nick’s anxiety grew. He looked concerned about something and occasionally asked about her, but Anacelis didn’t respond. The truth was she didn’t understand any of it, nor did she care. It was whatever to her.
Anacelis was born in a settlement north of the Holy Wall, just a stone’s throw from Cartelgarin. There, life was as grim as the terrain—people lived in a dog-eat-dog world.
She grew up hungry, having tasted dirt and decaying flesh. For the first ten years of her life, Anacelis didn’t understand the feeling of being full—in her world, surviving and having something to eat was enough.
Then one day, she accidentally stepped out of the mountains into the real world, where she was made a Pope Knight. Her monthly salary was beyond her wildest dreams, allowing her to live like a human being at last.
But some ingrained habits can never be shed.
Sometimes, Anacelis noticed the pity in Commander Nick’s eyes when he looked at the villagers of Mosli—perhaps for him, this place represented all the suffering in the world.
That privileged man had probably never thought or dared to imagine that in fertile West Silgaya, places like her hometown still existed.
Regardless, in Anacelis’s mind, being a Pope Knight was actually simple.
k*ll monsters, or humans.
Then, collect the coin.
Everything else? She couldn’t fathom it, nor did she care.
As for those heretics… she really didn’t understand what “heretics” meant or whether they were people wreaking havoc on Earth. But since she was sent here to help Commander Nick slay the enemies, she figured it was k*ll them all.
It was late night.
The waves surged restlessly.
Feeling a bit peckish, Anacelis pulled out a stale piece of hard bread from her small pack, slowly nibbling on it. When there was barely any left, she stored it back in her pack, then closed her eyes, hugging her knees, remaining utterly still as if asleep.
The sword always rested in her embrace.
