The Villain Carries the Holy Sword – Chapter 143

Chapter 143: Whiteout (1)

「Originally, the Holy See inherited the Holy Crown, ‘Autumn,’ and the Kreuz Empire inherited the Holy Sword, ‘Summer.’

Thus, the 〈Sacred Treasures of the Four Seasons〉 symbolized the legitimacy of the Pope and the Emperor.

“You are no longer worthy of wielding ‘Summer.’”

The past, when the Holy See’s authority pierced the heavens, and the Empire was torn into pieces.

A proposal that would have immediately sparked war in the current Empire.

“What makes you think this is an empire? They can’t even produce a proper emperor.”

At that time, the Pope felt a sense of crisis that ‘Summer’ might disappear due to the divided state of the Kreuz Empire.

“Entrust the Holy Sword, ‘Summer,’ to us. We will help you win the civil war.”

“……Very well.”

A pact was made with Siebrandt, the last imperial prince of Kreuz at the time.

The Holy Sword would be kept by the Holy See.

The Emperor of the Empire would receive the authority of the Holy Sword through the Pope’s recognition.

And the Holy See would make ‘Siebrandt D Kreuz’ the Emperor of a unified Kreuz Empire.

“Let’s make it 99 years.”

Siebrandt’s words.

The Pope at the time stroked his chin.

He wanted to make it an indefinite contract if he could. But there was the gaze of the continent to consider, and 99 years later was a matter for the future anyway.

He didn’t think the Holy See, shining like the sun, would ever lose its power, nor did he think the unstable Empire would ever become strong.

“Let’s do that.”

The final clause stipulated that the Holy See’s temporary custody of the Empire’s Holy Sword, ‘Summer,’ would be limited to 99 years, which was practically an eternity.

130 years have passed since then.

There is no such thing as an eternal day or night.

The Empire stabilized under the system of 1 Emperor and 3 Dukes, and the Holy See lost its power due to various incidents.

However, no matter how strong the Empire became, the Emperor still had to receive permission from the Pope of the Holy See to ascend to the throne.

“If only Summer was with us.”

It didn’t matter if they couldn’t hold it.

They needed the Holy Sword, whose mere existence acknowledged the Emperor’s authority.

“Our Summer must return.”

From the imperial family to the commoners, the desire of all citizens of the Empire was ‘Summer.’

They needed the Holy Sword to erase their humiliating past and usher in a glorious summer.

The Empire’s strongest 〈Order of Summer〉, created to confront the Holy See’s 〈Order of Autumn〉, slowly looked to the west.

“The Holy Sword is outside the Empire?”

To erase the shadow of the Holy See cast upon the Empire and for the Empire to stand on its own, the 〈Order of Summer〉 began to slowly turn their gaze westward. 」

🔹🔹🔹

The night of Mainus, the city without night.

Pitter-patter, pitter-patter━.

Rain falls.

The lights of the market, which should have been on all night, went out one by one, and the darkness that had been pushed away for a while returned.

Footsteps━.

Count Garick Crowl was walking with an umbrella.

“I told you, I can block it with magic.”

Next to him, Count Digrid Wareham, also the Lord of the Magic Tower, was walking alongside, deflecting the raindrops with 8th Circle Shield magic.

Garick frowned as the raindrops bouncing off his shield kept wetting his shoulder.

“Can’t you at least stop it from splashing like that?”

“The possibilities of magic are endless, but the limits of a wizard are finite. Sorry.”

Digrid winked playfully, teasing him.

Garick let out a small sigh, used to this by now, and pointed to Mainus Cathedral in the distance.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen it this close.”

“You can say that again. I never thought three of the Seven Noble Families would be gathered together on a rainy night like this.”

Garick and Digrid looked back.

There, Brediol Lamaring, the new Count of the Lamaring territory, stood awkwardly holding an umbrella.

“Greetings, Lord Counts.”

He bowed his head slightly.

They were both Counts, but they were his seniors in experience and everything else.

Digrid chuckled as he observed the three of them gathered together.

“If you were to name the seven most stubborn people in Airian, the three of us would definitely be on that list. It’s quite a sight to see us gathered like this.”

“It must mean the one who summoned us is quite something.”

The three of them walked a little further and entered a small building with a faint light flickering across from the cathedral.

“Hahaha, I never knew Archbishop Barbetta was such a down-to-earth person!”

Marquis McLoud’s hearty laughter.

Across from him, Archbishop Barbetta, the pinnacle of all faith in Airian, smiled.

“I’ve only ever met with Marquis McLoud for business, I never knew you were someone so pleasant to talk to.”

Perhaps because they were both old men of similar age, they seemed to have a lot in common.

Of course, as the three of them counted the number of liquor bottles on the table next to the long table where they sat, enough to seat about ten people, they realized that they were alike in other ways as well.

Digrid whispered to Garick.

“Wasn’t Archbishop Barbetta supposed to be a hard-nosed old man?”

Garick looked down at Digrid with a pitiful gaze.

“……He can probably hear you.”

For a clergyman of high enough rank to be sent as an archbishop from the Holy See, it wouldn’t be difficult to hear from this distance.

Unlike his usual stern demeanor, Barbetta offered his seat next to him as he filled an empty glass with alcohol.

“Haha, how about having a drink with the hard-nosed old man?”

Digrid flinched as if he hadn’t expected it, then sat down next to Barbetta like a cow being led to the slaughterhouse.

Just as the three of them were settling in with McLoud and Barbetta.

Clang━.

The bell on the door rang.

There was a middle-aged man carrying brown bags in both hands.

“Oh my, with this rain, all the chicken places in this neighborhood are…… closed……”

Count Bradley.

He couldn’t finish his sentence.

He hadn’t expected to see the faces of the great nobles he had seen once in the Northern Elf Forest recently.

Marquis McLoud gestured to the empty seat next to him as he spoke.

“Come, come! I was just getting bored, it’s good you’re here.”

“……What kind of gathering is this?”

Count Bradley moved timidly.

Excluding Count Ethelred, who was currently absent, and Marquis Ross, five of the Seven Noble Families were gathered here.

And that wasn’t all.

Archbishop Barbetta was also present.

Clang━.

And the door opened again.

The one who appeared, piercing through the rain that made it impossible to see even an inch ahead, was Princess Oleciren.

Her jet-black eyes scanned the room.

Count Bradley asked Marquis McLoud in surprise.

“Are we perhaps joining Princess Oleciren’s faction?”

Marquis McLoud shrugged as he lifted his glass and took a gulp.

“Probably not?”

“I received a summons as well.”

Oleciren moved to her seat with an expressionless face. The seating arrangement was such that the factions of the two princesses were mixed together.

She sat on the upper seat, slightly apart from the others.

Clang━.

This time, it was Princess Olivia and Saintess Caterina who entered.

“Even if you tried to force this gathering, it would be impossible to gather all these people.”

Olivia had a relaxed smile on her face.

Since it was a long table, she sat on the opposite upper seat, facing Oleciren. Saintess Caterina, seemingly dumbfounded by this gathering of all the powerful figures in Airian, laughed.

Then, she fixed her blue eyes on Archbishop Barbetta.

“Alcohol?”

“It’s Airian’s specialty. Lemons grow very well in Count Bradley’s territory, and ‘Bradley Limoncello’ is not too strong and quite delicious.”

Caterina, who had been standing for a moment.

Swoosh━.

She picked up an empty glass and held it out to Barbetta.

“I shall try it.”

Pour━.

Barbetta poured the drink into the Saintess’s empty glass and said.

“All things are by the light.”

“……The light is ours.”

The Saintess and the Archbishop.

Two princesses.

One marquis.

And four counts.

All the most important figures in Airian were gathered here.

Footsteps━.

The footsteps came not from outside, but from within. The group, who had been awkwardly sipping their drinks, all turned to the darkness inside.

There was a man walking down the stairs leading up.

“My apologies. It seems the rain chose to fall on the day I called everyone together.”

Crackle━!

A bolt of lightning struck at that moment!

In the flickering light and the darkness that surged like the ebb and flow of the tide, purple eyes shone brightly.

Creak━.

The groan of the old stairs slowly filled the space.

Snap━.

He snapped his fingers.

And as if on cue, the extinguished lamps lit up all at once, brightening the room.

“Cain.”

Oleciren called out to him.

“Yes.”

“When did you get back?”

“Sir Wayne asked me to come back urgently.”

“……It couldn’t have been good news for me.”

“That goes for the other side as well.”

Rumble━.

Thunder rumbled in the silent gaps between their words.

Cain pulled out a chair from the table where they were seated and sat down.

“To be honest, I’ve been giving it some thought. The people gathered here aren’t exactly the type to do as I say.”

“Or maybe they will?”

Count Wareham chimed in, only to have Marquis McLoud nudge him in the side.

“Let’s hear him out first.”

“……Yes.”

Knowing Wareham’s usual antics, Cain simply crossed his legs as if he was used to it.

“Since the next succession will be decided by the votes of the Seven Noble Families, let’s start with a show of hands. Marquis McLoud, you can raise both your hands.”

“Very well.”

“Those in favor of Oleciren becoming the next ruler?”

Swoosh━.

Lamaring, Crowl, Wareham.

Three votes.

“Then, those in favor of Olivia becoming the next ruler?”

Marquis McLoud raised both his hands, and Count Bradley raised one.

Again, three votes, making it a tie.

Cain, who had been silently sipping his drink, turned to the Saintess and asked.

“Not that I need to ask, but……”

“Yes. I support Princess Olivia.”

Legally, the Saintess’s opinion didn’t hold any weight in this matter, but the influence she held was significant.

Archbishop Barbetta, not siding with either side, busied himself by discreetly refilling empty glasses with alcohol.

“I’m aware that there’s a lot of baggage and danger involved in this decision.”

“Cain. Why are you being so uncharacteristically inefficient?”

Oleciren’s black eyes flashed.

Rumble━.

Witch’s power began to surge.

“Please refrain from using that, at least in front of me.”

Woosh━.

And the Saintess’s power rose to meet it head-on.

As soon as the two forces clashed, they vanished as if they had never existed.

Oleciren glared at the Saintess with sharp eyes before turning her gaze back to Cain.

“Inefficient?”

“If it were you, you would have just sliced the enemies’ throats by now. And there are enemies here.”

“Oleciren.”

“Yes.”

“You need to choose your enemies carefully. You can’t undo a swung sword.”

“……Are you lecturing me right now?”

The witch’s eyes flashed once more.

Cain met those eyes directly.

“Yes. Because I’m the only one who can.”

“Who are you to do so?”

[‘Winter’ says that Oleciren wasn’t like this before, she feels like she’s changed too much.]

Cain realized it too.

He finally understood Wayne Siker’s words that Oleciren had changed a lot after witnessing the deaths of Hybolt and his wife.

That’s why Cain spoke with sincerity.

“Someone who regrets. Someone who knows the pain of regret.”

“…….”

“Don’t lose yourself to rage. That’s what regret is.”

Oleciren turned her head away.

Then, she silently lifted the glass of alcohol in front of her.

Seeing this, Olivia spoke up.

“Then marry me━”

Crackle━!

Instead of words, Cain raised his right hand. Pure white lightning crackled, as if threatening to fry anyone who dared to make a move.

Both Marquis McLoud and Princess Olivia flinched reflexively at the sight.

“The vote is tied anyway, and if I force a vote because I technically have the authority of a Duke, the Holy See will object.”

“I see you understand the situation well.”

The Saintess responded to Cain’s words.

Cain looked at everyone before speaking.

“Let’s settle the succession with a good old-fashioned brawl.”

“……?”

Question marks momentarily appeared above everyone’s heads.

Cain raised both hands and held up three fingers on each.

“The vote is three to three, so let’s have a three-on-three match, just like in the ancient laws.”

“What a barbaric……”

Cain shrugged at the Saintess’s words.

“This is a country whose national treasure is literally called ‘Headbreaker.’”

Crackle━!

The room lit up once more with the sound of lightning.

And amidst it all, only Cain was smiling.

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