episode_0040

Having finished her call with the porter, Arina’s current mood could only be described as the absolute worst.

“Move.”

No further words were needed. At the Archmage’s terse command, the guards blocking the checkpoint promptly stepped aside.

It was a wise choice—unless they wanted to experience firsthand what it was like to personally rebuild a checkpoint that had been obliterated.

“I know the Master is scary, but they gave way a little too easily.”

“It means they’ve already made preparations.”

Under the wary gazes of the guards, Arina adjusted the gloves on her hands as she passed through the checkpoint.

Beyond the gate stood structures built in a Gothic style distinct from the Kingdom’s architecture. Compared to other nations, the Holy Kingdom was more advanced in architectural techniques.

This was partly to compensate for their relatively small territory by making it appear grander, and partly due to religious reasons—to elevate the authority of the god they served.

Checkpoints were usually bustling with people, but not a single soul was in sight. The entire city was eerily empty.

It seemed they had evacuated everyone in advance, knowing Arina would come.

‘And they plan to settle things here.’

With no one around, Arina strode freely through the streets, her eyes scanning her surroundings.

Only when she reached the vast plaza did she finally encounter the one person waiting for her.

Contrary to her expectation that she might face Marika immediately, the one waiting for Arina was an elderly man with a dignified presence.

“It’s been a while, Riel-gun. Or should I call you Riel-yang now?”

“Both are wrong. I’m long past the age to be addressed with such casual honorifics. Just call me Riel-ssi. Your Holiness.”

Pope Arkazal. In the Holy Kingdom, his standing was even higher than the Saintess’s—he was, in a word, the nation’s leader, and could be considered Marika’s adoptive father, given her orphaned origins.

“That’s difficult. To me, Riel-yang will always be a child. And now that you’ve grown so beautiful, you look even younger than the Saintess.”

Arkazal slowly walked toward Arina.

“Don’t come any closer. If you take another step, I may find it difficult to maintain proper etiquette toward Your Holiness.”

“There’s no need to be so guarded. I came here to resolve this through dialogue. That’s why I’m alone, isn’t it?”

“While keeping the Holy Knights on standby, ready to swarm in at any moment. Don’t even think of deceiving me. Do you really think I don’t know you?”

Regardless of whether his kindly smiling exterior matched his true nature, when it came to critical decisions, he was a calculating man. One couldn’t lead a nation without that much shrewdness.

“You saw through it, as expected. But don’t mind them. Think of them merely as escorts, prepared in case things don’t go smoothly.”

“That just sounds like you’ll resort to violence if dialogue fails.”

“I’d prefer to avoid such an outcome by talking things through.”

How eloquent, while still refusing to deny it outright. Arina could have eliminated the Pope right then and there. He likely believed his divine arts could withstand her magic, but her current power far surpassed anything he could imagine.

“What does the Alliance want from me? Defeating the Demon King—is that all? If I do that, will you lift the bounty?”

“That’s something we’ll need to discuss further. For now, shall we move elsewhere? I’ve prepared a meal at the restaurant you used to love.”

From the Pope’s evasive response, Arina was certain they had no intention of letting her go even after the Demon King’s defeat.

Of course.

Even before joining the Hero’s party, during her time in the Magic Tower, there had been constant attempts to recruit her.

She had run away, after all. Once she defeated the Demon King under the pretense of atonement, they’d have the perfect excuse to exploit her to elevate their own status.

The Hero’s party was composed of members selected from each nation. Among them, Arina—the extra member, unaffiliated with any country but belonging to the Magic Tower—was a political and military asset.

Now that she had single-handedly annihilated the Knights of Flame, her value had skyrocketed beyond measure. Especially for the Holy Kingdom, which had once sheltered Riel Frost before she sought refuge in the Magic Tower—letting her fall into another nation’s hands would be unacceptable.

Arina was well aware of these calculations.

“I refuse. I have no intention of dancing to your tune.”

“A shame.”

“So now you’ll resort to force?”

“A most regrettable course, but this, too, must be the Goddess’s trial. As citizens of the Holy Kingdom, it is our duty to overcome it.”

Tch. This is why I hate religious fanatics.

Arina clicked her tongue inwardly. Everything was “the Goddess’s will” or “a trial”—just excuses to justify their own desires under the guise of divine mandate.

The hidden Holy Knights surged forward, blocking the plaza from all sides and cutting off her retreat, surrounding her completely. Their numbers were so vast that even after filling the plaza, many more remained on standby.

“You’ve gathered quite the crowd. Did you recall every Holy Knight from the frontlines?”

“It only shows how highly we value your existence.”

The “we” the Pope spoke of likely excluded the Empire and the Kingdom—perhaps even the Holy Kingdom’s own citizens.

“Fine. But if this is the Goddess’s trial, what you’re about to face won’t be so gentle. They say the Goddess only gives trials that humans can endure. But this—this is the trial I will give you.”

Arina raised her white hand, clad in a black glove, and shouted so every Holy Knight in the plaza could hear:

“If you lack the confidence to endure Riel Frost’s trial, turn back now.”

Not a single Holy Knight moved. Arina narrowed her eyes, surveying them, then swept her hand through the air like a conductor before an orchestra.

“[Land of the Full Moon]”

In an instant, a ripple spread behind her, as though a drop had fallen onto a tranquil lake.

Some knights rubbed their eyes, thinking they were seeing things, but the scenery before them remained unchanged. They were standing on a lake.

Above them hung a massive moon—a perfect, beautiful full moon.

The sight of the full moon casting its glow over the lake was breathtaking, but the Holy Knights trembled at the grotesqueness of the scene.

Because what they saw was not a single moon illuminating the night.

Dozens of moons floated in the sky, their light bearing down as though to judge them.

Not one, not two—dozens of full moons, densely packed together, was a sight that would instinctively repulse any human. They even resembled eyes, glaring down as if the moons themselves sought to kill them.

“Do not fear. This is merely magic. An illusion. If you face it properly, there is nothing to fear.”

The Pope’s voice melted away the fear in the Holy Knights’ hearts. His soothing tone, both calming and penetrating, was a talent of his—but also a result of his divine arts.

Lacking the overwhelming talent of the Saintess, Arkazal had honed his divine arts to influence minds. This unique skill had carried him to his current position.

And now, once more, he used that power to rally the Holy Knights—to climb even higher.

“Riel Frost, too, is a creation of the Goddess. She is not a god. If we unite and fight together, the Goddess will surely smile upon us.”

At the Pope’s rousing speech, the Holy Knights tightened their grips on their weapons. They were, after all, devout followers of the Goddess.

Slaves who would leap into a pit of fire if ordered by the Pope, who acted in the Goddess’s name.

“For the Goddess!”

As one knight raised his sword and shouted, others followed, thrusting their weapons skyward and roaring in unison.

The cry spread like a wave, and the Holy Knights charged at Arina, their weapons enhanced with divine power.

“Eek! What do we do?! What do we do?! Those Holy Knights are her worst matchup!”

“Shut up and keep your head down.”

Arina forced Lirit to duck by pressing her head down to her waist.

“Lirit.”

“Huh?”

“Marin is probably in this city. She said she was coming to the Holy Kingdom. Find her.”

“Suddenly?! And the Holy Kingdom isn’t just this one city—what are the odds she’s here?!”

“I know it sounds impossible, but that girl has an uncanny sense for these things. She’ll be here.”

“Even if that’s true, how am I supposed to get past all these guys?!”

Ignoring the question, Arina clapped her hands together.

“[Moonlight Scattering]”

Clap. A clear sound resonated across the lake.

The light of dozens of full moons converged, collided, then split into countless beams that rained down upon the ground.

Whoooosh!

Where the light swept past, Holy Knights were crushed or sent flying. Their armor melted, searing their flesh with grievous burns.

“GAAAH!”

It must have felt like being submerged in magma. The knights writhed on the lake’s surface, screaming as their bodies melted.

But as the Pope had said, the lake was an illusion. The water that seemed so real offered no relief. The scenery shifted back to the original plaza, its ground of dirt and stone.

“How…?”

Only the Pope remained unharmed within Arina’s magic. The sole one to block her light, he couldn’t hide his shock at the devastating outcome.

This far exceeded the known limits of Riel Frost’s power.

He had heard the report of the Knights of Flame’s annihilation, but he never imagined this. He had believed that with the entire Holy Knight Order, they could stand against her. The Knights of Flame were elite, but few in number.

The Holy Knights he had brought, while individually weaker, had overwhelming numbers. And their quality wasn’t inferior to other nations’ forces.

Those untouched by the magic rushed to their comrades’ aid, but there was nothing they could do. Holy Knights could perform basic healing, but such skills were useless against injuries this severe.

“I’ll say it again. If you lack the confidence to endure, this is your last chance to turn back.”