Chapter 44 – The Footsteps of an Ancient Saint

[Do not pursue. Track only.]

The princess’s command. Luelde relayed it. Patina entered the quiet village, a member of Luelde’s Golden Dragon Knights, their youngest female member, a legend. But now… she was just a sister, searching for her lost brother.

This mission… she’d taken it instantly. She’d wanted to chase after him immediately, but it took four days. With the agents’ help, she’d found his trail.

The village elder, grateful, thanked her.

“Such attention to a remote village…”

“It’s our duty. This isn’t far from the capital. We can’t neglect our neighbors.”

“…Your words bring comfort. To come here, where there’s no church…”

A welcome misunderstanding. Even lords had blind spots.

“He was… incredible.”

The elder described the black-haired boy defending the village, defeating the monsters. Patina’s unease grew.

Why hide his skill?

Luelde and Ermina’s son… he couldn’t be weak. She knew his struggles, the weight of expectations, the past accusations. But she’d believed he’d overcome it. She’d overcome worse. Prove yourself through action, through results.

He should have.

If he’d committed a true crime… But this…

He needed to be stronger.

The letter Luelde had shown her… Cariel’s hidden pain… it had shaken her.

“He’ll be a great man! A true knight!”

“……”

The villagers praised him, their hero. It was Cariel, she knew. But… distant, somehow. They’d been close, closer than family. Now… she didn’t know. Guilt gnawed at her.

Baronenes. Cariela. Saint Cariel’s feast day. His namesake. The origin. Why there?

She didn’t understand. Regret washed over her.

====

“Authentic. Genuine.”

Philbar, holding the cracked sword, his breath held as he examined it.

“We just need… the location.”

“The Cariel Plains. Just outside the barony.”

Baron Roia, barely containing his excitement. Saint Cariel’s significance to them… palpable. The baron and his sons, like children on Christmas morning.

“Should I… be here?”

Cariel felt… out of place.

“Why not?”

“One more person… is it alright?”

“No problem. A young knight, visiting for the feast day… shows respect for Saint Cariel.”

The baron agreed. Cariel acquiesced. Philbar’s carriage, spacious enough for six.

“We’re not treasure hunting. Observers are welcome. Though… perhaps… a historical dig?”

Philbar, a demon of a blood-drinking race, shared unusual knowledge.

“During the Great Demon King’s reign… the demon realm knew peace. Prosperity.”

“The
Demon King
? Peace?”

Luke was incredulous.

“Precisely. Remarkable. He defied, overturned the demon realm’s very nature.”

“You admire him?”

Alesia scoffed.

“Of course.”

Philbar readily admitted it.

“Six thousand years of history… his 300-year reign… the only era of true peace.”

“Demon King invasions… usually decades, a century at most. Except for the Blue-Scaled Beast, and the Golden Beast… it’s been quiet.”

“The Blue-Scaled Beast… defied the Great Demon King. Exiled. Alone. Perhaps… a deliberate… provocation… from the Great Demon King.”

“Provocation?”

“He said… prolonged peace breeds… decay. Complacency.”

And…

“Power corrupts. Immortality corrupts. Those who seek eternity… are corruption’s source.”

“…Sounds like… the Church.”

“He criticized everyone. Even us, immortals. Our ways… don’t align with mortals.”

If the demon realm hadn’t changed…

“We wouldn’t be… conversing. Like this.”

“So, we owe it to… the Great Demon King? And the Golden Beast?”

“That… bastard.”

Philbar spat the word.

“His… Golden Rule… insufferable. Extreme reciprocity. Trials for any infraction. Tyranny disguised as balance.”

“The Golden Rule…”

Alesia muttered.

“You know of this, Luelde?”

“Each Demon King… establishes their own… ruling principle.”

“Well-read. And the Golden Beast’s rule… was the Golden Rule. Extreme balance. Oppressive.”

Each Demon King set the laws. Disagree? Become the Demon King.

“The Great Demon King… established the Principle of Hope. Transformed the demon realm… from a wasteland of predation… into paradise.”

He enforced it.

“If he’d been weak… he’d have been overthrown. Like the Golden Beast.”

“So… they were… too strong?”

“The Golden Beast… was different. The Great Demon King… overwhelming. Omniscient. Omnipotent. The greatest of the three Great Demon Kings. Rule through strength, not slaughter.”

“That’s… enlightening.”

Alesia seemed satisfied. Cariel pondered.
The Demon King of Wisdom.
They reviled the Golden Beast, yet revered the Great Demon King.

“……”

He glanced at the sky. Even the Wisdom King had been a servant. The Great Demon King’s power… unimaginable.

“Still in the city—ow! Hot!”

Philbar recoiled from the sunlight, steam rising from his skin. Daylight was not his friend.

“Time flies… and crawls. Any questions? Or shall we… indulge my curiosity?”

They chatted, sharing knowledge, until they reached the Cariel Plains.

“Disembark! Parasols! Protect my skin! And the tent!”

Two pale boys unfolded a large tent. Unaffected by the sun. A different race? White exterior, blue interior, blocking the sunlight.

“Let’s begin! Reagents! Everything! Set up the base… over there… begin the search…”

Alesia watched.

“Not to doubt you, but… can you really… unearth the past so easily?”

“Not easy. We need the sword, the location, the time. All must align. This site… is… ideal.”

“Ideal? How?”

Baron Roia asked. Philbar, still crouched, answered.

“Balanced energy. Positive and negative. Good for the living.”

“Relevant?”

“Absolutely! This land… has guardians. Earth spirits, vengeful spirits, benevolent, malevolent. Haven’t you heard?”

“…Fairy tales. Ghosts haunt specific places, not…”

“That’s what you think. It depends who died, who’s buried here. And spirits… not like the elves’ summoned spirits.”

This place… is good. The protective energy… palpable. That’s why… so few incidents here.

“……”

“The Irenis Church… tolerant of… spirits? Not much resistance?”

It didn’t quite… resonate.

“So… Saint Cariel… still protects this land?”

“If you choose to believe that. Though… not necessarily… a good thing.”

“…?”

Philbar was cryptic.

“He has a point.”

Ludhi, the baron’s eldest son, spoke.

“A guardian saint… an honor. But…”

If he’s… trapped here… unable to ascend…

“A tragedy.”

“Ludhi! That’s not for you to decide! Only the heavens, and Saint Cariel, can judge that!”

“Y-yes, Father. I just…”

“I know. I’m not scolding you.”

Luke, watching, smirked.

“Family. Simple, yet complicated.”

“You seem… unaffected.”

Alesia raised an eyebrow. Luke shrugged.

“I’m… indifferent.”

“Boast much?”

Alesia frowned.

“……”

Cariel watched, a strange feeling settling in his chest. Heavy, and… indescribable.

“Are you sure this is the place?”

Philbar stood abruptly.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s a problem.”

He stated plainly.

“This isn’t it.”

“What?!”

“This isn’t where Saint Cariel faced the barbarians.”

Roia’s face hardened.

“Impossible. Our ancestors…”

“The stories… changed. It happens. This isn’t the place.”

“This… can’t be…”

Roia was shaken.

“Can you find it?”

Ludhi asked, anxious. Philbar stroked his chin.

“It’ll take time. We might miss the feast day. If the date is wrong, too… that’s a problem.”

“We can only hope… We passed down what we knew.”

Ludhi, disappointed, but composed.

“So… we came for nothing?”

Luke grumbled. Alesia smacked his thigh.

“Ow!”

“Think before you speak.”

“……”

Cariel looked at the sky, then at Luke.

“May I… examine the relic?”

“Why? Think it’s magical?”

Alesia smacked him again.

“Damn it! Stop that!”

“Think before you speak!”

“I didn’t say anything wrong!”

Luke was indignant.

“Let him. It’s fragile, though.”

Roia agreed. Cariel bowed, approaching Philbar. A cloth on the ground, a reagent circle. Another cloth covered the sword, preserved but fragile. A straight blade, narrow guard, unlike the Empire’s modern swords.

Cariel knelt, reaching out.

[Who are you, mister?]

A voice, sudden, unexpected, echoed in his mind.