Chapter 228: Good job.

R​ea​ｄ &o;ǹ K​ａ​tRεa‌d​i‌n‍​g̀Ｃa​f‌ε

It had been a while since Riley saw the guardian Nova. The root of all evil—no, the teacher—who taught Sugar how to hold a knife.

Though Nova wasn’t particularly tall either, she was still taller than Sugar.

“You’re still such a kid every time I see you!”

“No! I’m not a kid!”

But given how Sugar was giggling brightly, Riley muttered from behind, “Yeah, definitely a kid.”

The reason Nova had been scarce during the vacation was, apparently, due to leading a heresy purge mission. There had been a small-scale war on the empire’s side.

Come to think of it, Riley had only been seeing rookie knights around the Holy City lately. Had they all been dragged into it?

The heresy in question was a group that preached, “The world is corrupted, and humanity must return to an era of purity.” They were said to possess the power to nullify engineering technology beyond a certain level.

Their evil god must really like lattes.

“Back in my day~~ we didn’t have any of this~~ Can’t stand humans living comfortably~~”

Even in this world’s industrial revolution era, they imposed numerous restrictions. If they existed in modern times, they’d be a massive headache.

Such was the chaotic world they lived in.

A world teeming with heretics—not frauds, but those with real power.

No wonder the Holy City was always short-handed. There were countless factions trying to overturn the world, and the Holy City was the only force capable of stopping them. Other nations were too busy defending themselves, expanding territories, or dealing with their own issues.

Of course, the Holy City received substantial defense funding for it.

Thinking about it, the Saint truly was an extraordinary figure. Two thousand years ago, they descended alone, suppressed all evil, established a bastion to protect the world, and then ascended—a savior.

Ianne, who inherited their blood.

Leon, who inherited their will.

How did those two feel about it all?

“…What will they think of me from now on?”

Just then, people entered. Following the guardian Miriam were the Saintess and Her Holiness. Cedric was absent, apparently away on a mission.

After exchanging greetings with those already in the meeting hall, everyone took their seats around the round table.

“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedules.”

As a tense silence settled, Sugar stood and spoke.

“Recently, in Steele, I was caught in a spatial distortion and encountered the Shadow Cult’s forces. There, I learned several truths. Today, I wish to share them. But first…”

She took a deep breath, then pulled an object from her cloak’s inner pocket, steeling herself.

“This is a divine relic I received from the unicorn of the White Forest—an amber blessed by the sacred Spirit of the White Tree.”

Placing it on the table, she stepped back. One step, two steps, three steps. Each footfall was heavy.

Soon, the artifact’s concealment faded, revealing Sugar’s true aura.

The reaction was immediate.

“What in the—?!”

“Sugar, what is this…?”

An incessant, seeping aura of malice.

One blessed by an evil god.

The Shadow Cult’s Saintess.

The attendees’ reactions split—some panicked, others silently observed.

“You! Do you realize you could be thrown into the Inquisition without a chance to explain yourself?”

Unsurprisingly, Miriam was the first to lash out. She had long considered Sugar a dangerous element.

And with Ione beginning to cough, perhaps her concern only grew fiercer.

“I can’t just stand by any longer… This land is no place for the likes of you…! After all the warnings… To repay the kindness shown to you with betrayal…! Get out of here—!”

“Enough!”

A voice cut her off sharply.

“Your Holiness!”

“That’s enough! How can you judge without even hearing her out? What kind of nonsense is this toward a child who mustered the courage to reveal herself for the sake of this land?!”

Perhaps it was because she’d been in a foul mood lately, but Ianne’s violet eyes blazed with terrifying intensity as she roared.

Amidst the tension, a quiet voice spoke.

“With all due respect, this person is not someone plotting the world’s destruction or the Holy City’s ruin.”

Leon, having spoken calmly, bowed his head.

“Enough.”

Finally, Ione ended the confrontation.

“I have not the slightest intention of casting you out. Speak freely.”

When the veiled Saintess delivered those words—mechanically toned yet unexpectedly kind—Sugar wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

She remembered a dream she’d once had. A tightly shut gate of the Holy City, cold and merciless. This was the complete opposite, and the emotions overwhelmed her.

Seeing this, Riley let out a deep sigh.

“There’ll definitely be conflict when you speak. You might hear harsh words… But don’t step in, no matter what. I’ll be fine. Instead, play the recording at the right moment. Let the heated atmosphere shift elsewhere. They’re rational people—they’ll make their judgment quickly… I’m counting on you.”

That was the request Sugar had made before entering the meeting hall.

‘No wonder I keep worrying about her.’

Bold yet cowardly in some ways. Cold yet deeply emotional. A woman who drew attention precisely because she embodied both strength and fragility.

Either way, a promise was a promise.

Now was the time.

As Riley manipulated the ring, the edited recording of Sugar and Vivi’s conversation during the spatial distortion began to play.

“Then I’ll ask one question at a time. First, the tower. The one infused with the evil god’s energy. You made it, didn’t you?—”

…

…

…

As the recording ended and silence filled the room, Sugar’s voice rang out clearly.

“This is the situation.”

“The apostle I spoke with agreed to side with me and returned to the cult. A spy, of sorts.”

“…Can we really trust that?”

Having calmed her emotions, Miriam spoke calmly.

“When told, ‘I’ll give you a chance to find the key to your shackles with your own hands,’ what slave would refuse?”

“…”

“And she’s just a child. She calls herself an apostle, but in truth, she’s a girl starved for affection and desperate for freedom. We’ve built a good rapport—I think she’s worth trusting.”

At the mention of “good rapport,” Riley tilted his head slightly but didn’t disrupt the mood.

“I’ve also delayed their plans. Right now, the cult should be in disarray. I transferred Damutria’s hatred to them, so they’re likely reeling from its influence.”

“Swallowing that bastard’s hatred sounds insanely dangerous—”

Leon muttered but clamped his mouth shut under Sugar’s sharp glare.

“To summarize, we must fight together. I can play a pivotal role in destroying the cult. I’ll help however I can. No one is closer to the evil god than I am—and no one wants to destroy it more than I do.”

Her small frame radiated formidable resolve, her eyes clearer than ever.

Fortunately, the mood shifted toward agreement. Even Miriam seemed to weigh the benefits of keeping Sugar as an ally over expelling her.

“I see… Your reasoning is sound.”

Having finished her deliberation, Miriam spoke again.

“I apologize for my earlier outburst. I’m sorry.”

The unexpected apology left Sugar gaping.

“What’s wrong? Is there a problem?”

“No… I just didn’t expect you to agree so quickly.”

Sugar had assumed persuading Miriam would be the hardest part.

“Haven’t you already accomplished much on your own? From recruiting an apostle to disrupting their plans… I’ve decided to trust your capability. As I’ve said before, the Holy City’s safety is my priority. Allying with you to dismantle the Shadow Cult is the better long-term strategy.”

“I wasn’t alone. Riley helped me a lot.”

“Fine. Regardless… And with the Saintess herself shielding you, what else can I do?”

Miriam shrugged, and as the discussion settled, Sugar glanced around.

“Ahem… This is slightly off-topic, but…”

She turned to Ione.

“I also wanted to talk about the Saintess’s health. Every time I see you, your condition worsens… Was the previous Saintess also unwell?”

Ione nodded silently.

“Hmm. After becoming what I am—a vessel of the evil god’s blessing—I realized something.”

“?”

“The human body has limits. It’s too fragile to wield immense power. My power is inherently destructive, but yours, Saintess, isn’t meant to harm. Yet it still takes a toll.”

This was the epiphany Sugar had when pushing the evil god’s power to its limit to defeat an enemy.

“Of course, your body isn’t ordinary. You carry the Saint’s blood. But over two millennia, that bloodline has weakened. Meanwhile, the Saint’s power remains unchanged, channeled through their remains beneath the Holy City. It’s inevitable.”

“…”

“That’s why I think your frailty stems from this: your body is human, but the divine power it hosts hasn’t diminished. Using it erodes your health.”

Sugar’s solemn expression twisted with guilt.

“And with me—a vessel of malice—nearby… I’ve only made it worse.”

How much had Ione suffered without showing it? From sheltering Sugar to pushing through pain to offer guidance. To Sugar, Ione embodied the true meaning of “Saintess.”

“We weren’t unaware of that possibility,” Miriam interjected.

“We realized it recently and have been debating solutions—how to prevent passing this burden to future successors. We’ve scoured ancient texts and tested countless remedies. The Saintess has tried at least fifty tonics by now.”

Ione clenched her fist subtly.

Apparently, it had been… traumatic.

“Ah, we also discussed leveraging Prophet Leon’s power to conceive the next Saintess.”

“…What?”

“That would surely produce a healthy heir.”

The shocking declaration made Ianne jolt upright before sinking back with a quiet “Ah…”

Ione and Leon, having heard this before, simply stared at the table.

“Uh… Well… I’ll be leaving the Holy City once the semester starts! The Saintess will recover in my absence… Maybe discuss other options in the meantime…?”

Sugar, sweating, tried to defuse the tension. The Holy City’s zeal for succession planning was overwhelming.

“Wait… If Sugar’s theory is correct, the Saintess’s frailty is caused by the power overwhelming her body… Could that be classified as a ‘condition’?”

Leon raised his hand, and Sugar immediately grasped his intent.

If deemed a “status ailment,” there was one cure-all: the legendary “Saint’s Water.”

“It’s possible…!”

Sugar clapped excitedly as Leon explained for the bewildered audience.

“This seems like the right time to mention I’ve been working on ‘Saint’s Water.’ The legendary elixir created by Rainer, the Saint’s first disciple. It’s said to heal any ailment, though it’s not yet complete.”

All eyes locked onto him.

“I meant to keep it secret, but given the circumstances, it felt right to share.”

“You… were secretly brewing such a thing?!”

Coming from the wielder of the “Saint’s Staff,” his words carried immense weight.

The meeting pivoted from the Shadow Cult to Ione’s health—her condition, the elixir’s progress, and supplementary ingredients. With the cult inactive, the shift felt natural.

As heated discussions unfolded, Sugar slumped into the seat beside Riley, exhaling in relief. A warm hand clasped hers.

“Good job.”

The whisper at her ear was tender, as were the arms that embraced her, the warmth seeping into her heart.

“I think… I can stay in the Holy City with you after all.”

“That dream won’t come true. Never.”

Holding her childhood friend—her traveler, her anchor—tightly, she repeated it like a vow.