Saint Marigold

8.

“It’s the Pilgrimage.”

“They’ve gathered again.”

The air felt heavy today, noticeable to everyone passing through the Imperial Capital’s square.

The hundreds of Pilgrimage members swarming together since early morning were the cause.

Lancel Dante watched from the terrace of a distant restaurant.

“Silence! Duke Meriril Dunn, who will lead this Pilgrimage, is arriving.”

A man almost entirely covered in expensive armor ascended a pre-prepared platform.

Lancel frowned.

The silver, polished to such a degree, reflected the sun with blinding intensity, assaulting his eyes with each step.

“It is regrettable! Truly regrettable, Pilgrimage! Citizens of the Empire! Descendants of the great God!”

Duke Dunn began his speech, unfolding a prepared paper.

“Why does the evil rooted in this land not disappear? Why do those who hinder the Empire’s dream of creating paradise never cease!”

Slurp, slurp.

Lancel indifferently sipped his fruit drink. A lengthy sermon from the start.

“Therefore, I vow!”

It was only when Lancel ordered his third drink that Duke Dunn’s speech reached its climax.

“I, Meriril Dunn, in the name of the Imperial Family and the Martyrdom Church! Will surely eradicate the sprouts of depravity and atrocity that have spread to every corner of this great Empire!”

Eradicate.

The Pilgrimage were merely loudmouths, but that much was true.

In just one week since their journey began, the cries of the Wise ones being uprooted throughout the Empire echoed.

“If you take this, we won’t have enough food to last until the harvest season!”

“Dare you defy the Pilgrimage, which has received God’s command? Behold, this one is a demon! Hang him immediately!”

“Hieeek! S, save me! I, I’ll give you everything!”

Liquor and food, lodging and women, horses and money.

They seized whatever they needed, and even if they didn’t need it, they plundered anyway.

“Hand it over. Hand it all over.”

“They must be in the Old Bottle region by now.”

Lancel carefully traced the Pilgrimage’s route on a map.

He didn’t need to inquire much.

The Pilgrimage themselves announced their achievements every day.

Every four days, a paper detailing the events of the Pilgrimage was posted in Rodniss Square, now a routine occurrence.

—…Furthermore, the Pilgrimage has eradicated the vile and wicked bandit group that was illegally occupying the village, and dealt with the Monster living in the lake!

‘Roughly translated, they’ve devastated a village that refused to be plundered by the Pilgrimage.’

Most of it was a series of praises filled with dazzling achievements, but it was enough to know where they were moving.

“If you’re so interested in the Pilgrimage, why didn’t you just join them?”

Baron Ibil Shen watched Lancel record the Pilgrimage’s movement radius each time with a slightly puzzled look.

‘There’s no other way.’

Lancel had no intention of letting this iteration pass idly by. The Pilgrimage procession event itself was not a common occurrence.

Yes.

This was an opportunity.

Their existence, their arrogance, the atrocities they were committing, and even the Pilgrimage’s route, relatively close to the Imperial Capital.

All of it was an opportunity for Lancel.

“Baron Shen, would you like to make a lot of money with me?”

As soon as the entire route of the upcoming Pilgrimage was completed, Lancel visited Baron Ibil Shen.

The most successful stable keeper in this land. A miser. To make him an offer he couldn’t refuse.

“If this goes well, no one in the Imperial Capital will ever look down on you again.”

He, who had been leisurely drinking tea, sent a nervous look.

“Why are you being so scary? Just tell me. It’s not like I haven’t lent you money once or twice.”

“This time, the amount is a bit large.”

“……How much?”

“About this much.”

Baron Ibil Shen’s eyes widened as if they were about to tear.

“W, what on earth are you trying to d, do with this amount…….”

“I told you, a business. A business.”

“……Let me hear it. What exactly are you plotting?”

Lancel lowered his voice and conveyed what he had planned to him. After listening for a long time, Baron Ibil Shen sighed deeply.

“This requires permission from the Archbishop of the Imperial Family. Not just anyone can do it if they want to.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Why?”

“You’ll get it, won’t you?”

“Who? Me?”

Baron Ibil Shen had a dumbfounded look.

.

.

.

“You’re going to do something like that? At this time?”

“Yes, Archbishop.”

Baron Ibil Shen was sweating profusely.

The Imperial Archbishop was looking down at the top of his head with half-closed eyes.

It was a meeting arranged by Lancel’s somewhat coercive request.

It goes without saying that the kickback amounted to five thoroughbred horses in order to create this opportunity.

—I’ll take full responsibility if anything goes wrong. I swear on the Dante Family’s honor.

That damned Dante Family. If it weren’t for the past connection, he wouldn’t have dreamed of doing something like this.

Muttering inwardly, Baron Ibil Shen cautiously gauged the Imperial Archbishop’s mood.

“H, how is it?”

The Archbishop’s eyes, which had been closed for a long time, slowly opened.

“I heard you were a nouveau riche from the frontier, but now I see…….”

A short but long silence followed. A sharp gaze scanned him up and down.

The fear of what would follow assailed Baron Ibil Shen. His breathing became labored. It felt like his chest would burst at any moment.

“You were a clever one.”

“Huuuh.”

With the sudden surge of relief, Baron Ibil Shen exhaled the breath he had been holding.

“I hadn’t even thought of it. Why didn’t I think of it? Especially at such a good time.”

“……Yes?”

“If prepared well, it could be an opportunity to enhance the Pilgrimage’s honor. I like it very much.”

“Thank you! Archbishop, thank you!”

“However.”

The Archbishop interrupted Baron Ibil Shen.

“No matter how much money you have, can you handle such a large festival alone?”

“Of course! Of course! Even if I have to sell all my assets, I will definitely!”

“No, I don’t believe you. Now that it’s come to this, it would be good for the Martyrdom Church to contribute some money as well. I can’t just let you benefit alone.”

“Ah, yes, th, that’s right.”

Baron Ibil Shen couldn’t hide his dismay.

The Archbishop was not only endorsing Lancel Dante’s reckless plan but was also starting to delve even deeper into it.

—Those people will never refuse. Just trust me. Just do it.

Was his word truly correct? Baron Ibil Shen felt goosebumps rising on his arms.

“It seems we need to expand the scale a bit more. It seems Your Majesty also has time today.”

“Your Maj……!”

Baron Ibil Shen’s complexion turned pale.

“You must deliver it directly to Your Majesty. Do you understand?”

“Yes? Yes……Yes!”

It felt like his lifespan would be cut in half.

9.

In the heart of the Imperial Capital was a large park where nobles spent their leisure time.

It was a place that Lancel and Marigold had been visiting every weekend for months.

Water birds flew around the lake, and wealthy Imperial Capital tycoons gathered with their families in the bustling garden.

“Hic!”

“It’s okay. I’m holding you.”

As always, Lancel brought Marigold onto a small rowboat floating on the lake.

For her, who couldn’t see, the rowboat was a symbol of fear. Her lips trembled, as if she would lose her balance and fall over at any moment.

When they reached the center of the lake by rowing, Marigold took a deep breath.

“Ready……I’m ready.”

“Then let’s start.”

When Lancel snapped his fingers as a signal, Marigold’s expression changed in an instant.

A serene face with her eyes closed.

Birds fluttered their wings around the swaying rowboat, but her gentle demeanor remained unbroken.

Her appearance, which even felt sublime at first glance, was admirable.

After a long time, Marigold’s lips slowly opened.

“Knight.”

Lancel smiled.

An almost oppressive feeling was felt in Marigold’s quiet voice. She was a completely different person compared to just a moment ago.

“Tell me who you are.”

Lancel changed his posture on the rowboat. He knelt on one knee and lowered his head.

“I am Lancel Dante.”

.

.

.

“Your loyal servant, Lancel Dante.”

Lancel knelt before Marigold.

Next to him, the knight who had been fighting with a sword until just a moment ago was knocked out and lying on the floor.

Behind him were small fences and the shouts of dozens of spectators and gamblers.

“The winner of the first preliminary round of the Imperial Knights Tournament!”

Baron Ibil Shen ran up with a beaming face and raised Lancel’s arm.

==========

—Regular Event: The finals of the ‘Knights Tournament’ hosted by Baron Ibil Shen and the Martyrdom Church are three months away. Who will be chosen as the best knight in the Empire?

※Due to the Martyrdom Church’s guidelines, Holy knights from ‘all denominations’ within the Empire will participate in this Knights Tournament.

==========

“Lancel Dante of the Saintess Church!”

“Wowww!”

“Give me back my money, you son of a……bitch!”