Cardinal Deviale.
Shiron had anticipated that a visit would eventually come, but he hadn’t imagined it would be so soon.
Given that Deviale was extremely busy with the establishment of a new organization for the protection of the Emperor, it made sense.
One might assume his schedule had cleared due to the Emperor’s death during treatment, but with the cardinal’s divine power so great that it spawned jokes about reviving the dead, Shiron set aside such speculation.
However, that didn’t mean Deviale had any reason to put everything aside and come here.
Even in the devastated Alhyeon Room, there were quite a few survivors, many in need of his healing touch. And was he himself not a patient?
There must be an important matter. With that thought, Shiron faced Deviale.
“How are you feeling?”
Shiron’s face was full of concern as he asked.
“Earlier, you seemed to be in a bad state.”“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine at all. Aren’t you still wearing a bandage on your head?”
“I’m sorry for coming without notice. I should have waited a bit longer.”
“It’s not like that, so just stay put. Why are you trying to leave?”
Shiron prevented Deviale from standing up and continued.
“I’m just worried that the cardinal might be overexerting himself. So, you don’t need to apologize.”
“I may have caused you unnecessary concern. But I’m fine. I’ve even survived with a hole in my heart before.”
Deviale nodded and touched his head. Conscious of the bandage, he unwrapped it and showed it to Shiron.
‘Is he trying to prove he’s healed?’
After finishing his thought, Shiron closely inspected the bandage extended by Deviale. Strangely, the bandage was spotless.
‘…What?’
Frowning, Shiron alternated his gaze between the clean bandage and Deviale.
“What is this?”
“A means to escape the palace. Despite urgent matters, they hardly let anyone go.”
“Are you saying you feigned illness?”
“That seems to be one way to put it.”
Deviale chuckled, seemingly amused by his own words.
“The attendants were so overbearing that there was no chance of leaving halfway through. They insisted on staying, claiming the Emperor hadn’t awakened even though the treatment was complete.”
“…”
“So, I used my injury as an excuse to escape.”
“…I see.”
Shiron nodded with a hesitant expression. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around the absurdity of it all but decided to agree for the moment.
Deviale’s lack of condescension towards Shiron and his rough grasp of Deviale’s thoughts were clear.
‘The emperor in a coma is less important than meeting me, it seems.’
An individual of significance, perhaps even surpassing the Emperor.
Hero.
Deviale must regard Shiron as a hero, especially after witnessing him wield a sword that emitted a tremendous light.
“Cardinal, may I ask you something?”
“Yes, of course.”
But Shiron decided to seek confirmation directly from him. The issues with the 1st Apostle and Latera were enough of a headache without adding uncertainties.
“Am I more important than the Emperor?”
He didn’t ask directly, as that would come across as arrogant.
“Yes.”
Deviale’s answer was straightforward, seemingly understanding Shiron’s underlying question.
“Because you are a hero.”
“Yes… you’ve recognized me correctly.”
“Indeed…!”
Deviale, previously composed, stood up excitedly as if he could no longer contain his excitement.
How could he not? After being saved, there was no need for further pretense.
From the moment he saw the light-emitting sword, Deviale believed Shiron to be a hero.
While the sword emitting light could be seen as a mere force, a sword that produced such an intense, blissful sensation without pain could only be a holy sword, as far as he was concerned.
‘To witness a scene from the scriptures firsthand. I am truly blessed.’
Cardinal Deviale trembled, his eyes reddening with emotion.
Despite dedicating his life to the church, he had never experienced transcendent phenomena like stigmata or revelations, which was a source of much embarrassment. At last, a miracle had come to him.
“I am in the presence of the hero.”
Deviale slowly knelt down, dismissing any concerns about dignity or pretense as irrelevant.
The fact that Shiron was young enough to be his son and had been looked down upon as an assistant until recently… also didn’t matter.
‘Yes, it doesn’t matter at all.’
After all, would a hero care about being slightly disrespected? Deviale decided to focus solely on the miracle before him, dismissing any embarrassing memories.
“Please stand up. A hero does not reign supreme over all.”
Shiron placed his hand on Deviale’s shoulder, smiling kindly. Though not a hero, and lacking the face to boast about it everywhere, he had already told a significant lie to the maids.
Without changing his expression, he smoothly delivered his shameless words.
“And, we don’t have time for this, do we? There are still many issues that need resolution.”
“Oh! My apologies.”
Deviale hastily stood up, wiping his eyes, agreeing with Shiron that there was indeed a mountain of tasks to tackle.
“My visit here is not solely to meet with the hero.”
Deviale urgently reached into his pocket, pulling out what seemed to be a hastily prepared draft of a report.
“While treating the Emperor, we detected traces of a curse, albeit in small amounts.”
“A curse, you say?”
“Yes. Considering consecutive testimonies from the servants, it’s concluded that this curse might be why the Emperor has recently weakened. Essentially, it’s suspected to be an assassination attempt on the 1st Prince.”
“How could someone commit such a horrific act?”
Shiron clicked his tongue and shook his head. The audacity to try to kill under the guise of devil worship, never had he imagined such a reality.
Then, a thought struck Shiron.
‘What about the temples we’ve been building until now?’
Having stayed up nights over the past fortnight, providing grand gifts to the 1st Prince’s supporters. With the 1st Prince fallen from grace and vanished from the world, a void filled his chest.
“May I ask you something?”
“Of course, by all means.”
“What happens to the temples that appeared over the last fortnight? Do we proceed with the investigation as planned?”
“Well… that’s become quite the dilemma.”
Deviale sighed briefly, facing the looming issues, including the failed assassination of royalty.
Despite his devout faith, Deviale possessed a ‘humanity’ that made him reluctant to exert effort on temple appearances when no victims were involved.
“May I suggest something?”
Just then, Shiron leaned in towards the contemplative Deviale.
“What suggestions do you have?”
Deviale leaned in too, curious about the solution Shiron, who he recognized as a hero, might propose. Perhaps it was a divine revelation. Maybe even an unimaginable solution.
With such expectations, Deviale listened intently, his heart filled with reverence. Shiron, leaning in, whispered so close to his ear.
“Let’s say it was all Austin’s doing.”
Shiron whispered so quietly.
“Excuse me?”
Deviale couldn’t grasp what he was hearing.
“What are you talking about? Even if he’s deceased…”
“Shh! Keep your voice down.”
“…”
“Well, ‘the dead can’t speak,’ right? Since the 1st Prince, blinded by power, even dabbled in sorcery, he won’t find it unfair in hell.”
“…?”
Deviale stepped back, narrowing his eyes. Shiron’s face bore no smile, not seeming like a joke at all.
Under normal circumstances, he would have rebuked him…
But somehow, Deviale found himself persuaded. The 1st Prince, in his greed, had attempted to kill his father and brother with such a wicked method; it seemed plausible he had ties to demons.
Considering Lucerne had conducted innocent witch hunts just half a century ago.
Since the 1st Prince was neither good nor innocent, wouldn’t this be acceptable?
“Otherwise, rather than falsely accusing him, it might be best to declare the investigation suspended. If new temples emerge, we can always resume the investigation then.”
Shiron firmly persuaded the cardinal, who was hesitant to respond.
“Sometimes, it’s necessary to choose what is more important.”
“Indeed, the Lord also said to first take care of the living.”
He turned his gaze towards the main palace, directing his consciousness there.
“We haven’t even conducted the funerals for the victims yet, and there are still many patients.”
Deviale himself was prioritizing tasks based on their importance.
“I must be going now.”
“Should I help too?”
“No, there’s no need. I’ve heard that Captain Malleus will be arriving by tomorrow.”
“It’s fortunate that Captain Malleus won’t be making a wasted trip.”
Shiron let out a relieved sigh. Deviale got up, eager to return to the front lines.
“By the way, something just occurred to me.”
“What is it?”
“About the existence of the hero.”
Deviale whispered again, bringing his mouth close to the ear as before.
“How many people know the identity of the hero?”
“Apart from my companions, only you, Cardinal.”
“I see.”
“Why do you ask?”
Shiron furrowed his brow.
“Just a precaution, but my being a hero should remain a secret.”
“Of course, I have no intention of spreading it around. I personally think it’s better to keep the hero’s identity a secret.”
“May I ask why you think so?”
“You may take it lightly.”
Deviale pulled out a bible from his pocket and showed the last page.
“How many years has it been since you held the holy sword?”
“It’s been over 7 years. Why do you ask?”
“Because the bible stopped its records 500 years ago.”
Deviale’s gaze narrowed as he looked at Shiron.
“Even the oldest bible, bound more than a thousand and several hundred years ago, stops at the record from 500 years ago.”
From a certain point in the bible to the last page, it was the story of Hero Kyrie.
“There might be those who doubt your qualifications as a hero.”
“Are you saying they might quibble just because my story isn’t recorded?”
“Exactly.”
Deviale shook his head and sighed.
“It doesn’t fit with modern times… but there have always been fervent believers.”
As far as Deviale knew, Malleus was also among those fervent believers.
“Regardless of not doubting your valor, having seen it myself, I think proving it to them one by one would be tiresome.”
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