To be honest, Eugene had been half expecting to receive a slap. While he hadn't believed Gilead would resort to such actions, he had thought Ancilla might have both the right and the inclination to do so.
Initially, Eugene's impression of Ancilla had been that of a typical noblewoman who had been married into a family as the second wife — full of ambitions for power within the family and bent on raising her offspring with a strict, iron hand to realize her aspirations. But it wasn't long before he realized she wasn't just some blinded, ambitious noblewoman.
Ancilla had a knack for distinguishing friends from foes. If she found someone too challenging to handle, she made sure to forge ties, turning potential enemies into allies. After adopting Eugene, she imparted this wisdom to her children, ensuring they never antagonized him. Moreover, she never acted badly towards him as well.
All that had been nearly a decade ago. The fierce Ancilla of yesteryears had since mellowed considerably.
The fact still remained that even during her fiercer days, she wouldn't have slapped Eugene over such a matter.
"Perhaps I wasn't prepared enough," Eugene murmured with a rueful smile. He had distanced himself from Ancilla's embrace a while ago while Ciel was still engaged in a conversation with her parents.
"What kind of preparation?" Cyan queried with a quizzical tilt of his head while standing by Eugene’s side.
Eugene watched Ciel being consoled by Gilead as he replied, "I thought she might blame me for Ciel's eye and give me a few slaps for it."
"Eugene, you…. What exactly do you think of our mother?" Cyan probed.
"It’s all your fault that I have these misconceptions. When you were younger, you used to return after getting slapped by Lady Ancilla,” Eugene replied.
"That… was a long time ago, and it was because I was often mischievous. But this... this situation is different." Even as he said that Cyan couldn't help but glance at Ciel, his face etched with concern. "There aren't any further complications, right?" he asked.
"I've used every method at my disposal to check, and she's fine,” assured Eugene.
“I guess it should be considered fortunate,” Cyan said, heaving a sigh.
His face contorted into a mix of relief and unease. He knew the sequence of events: Ciel had shielded Eugene and lost her left eye in the process. If it had been left in that state, she would have lived the rest of her life with an eyepatch or a prosthetic eye.
Were it not for a certain intervention….
"A demoneye… is it? Well, in that aspect, I guess it’s fortunate that Ciel is a Lionheart," Cyan spoke earnestly.
Demoneyes did not manifest in humans. Meaning Ciel was the first human with a Demoneye in the history of the continent.
Were it not for her lineage, the Inquisitors of the Holy Empire might have apprehended her, or wizards from Aroth could have captured her for study. But neither the Kiehl Empire nor Aroth could impose their will on the Lionheart family.
‘No…. It's not just because we are the Lionheart family…,’ Cyan mused internally, ‘It's because of Eugene.’
He had spent several days in Shimuin. Since then, Cyan had come to realize the monumental influence that the name Eugene Lionheart held across the entire continent. Even the Pope had acquiesced to Eugene's words just a little while ago.
"How was the Demon King?" In an attempt to shift the topic, Cyan asked while clearing his throat.
It felt a little strange.
There was a thought Cyan often pondered in the past.
Even if he wielded a sword all his life and strived with all his might, he thought he would never reach a position equal to Eugene’s. And whenever despair threatened to consume him, that damned half-brother of his seemed to possess an uncanny ability to discern it and would relentlessly pester him.
He would rile Cyan up and taunt him with stinging blows while using sparring as an excuse. But regardless of how fervently Cyan swung his sword, the gap in prowess between him and Eugene always remained undiminished.
"Strong," Eugene responded while scratching his chin. He was gazing intently at Cyan.
Eugene had accomplished grand, unimaginable feats, and as such, he should have been a distant figure. Yet, Cyan never felt the distance between himself and Eugene. Eugene always felt close. No matter if he was the Hero or the slayer of a Demon King, or even if their parentage was utterly different, Eugene was a brother to Cyan.
"It's only natural," Cyan remarked, a playful grin on his face as he draped an arm around Eugene's shoulder.
While the whole continent admired Eugene's accomplishments and revered what Cyan couldn't achieve, jealousy wasn't what he felt. It was an odd sensation. Perhaps as a child, he might have felt envy. But now?
‘Have I given up?’ Cyan pondered.
No, it was a different emotion. Cyan's sword was still aimed at Eugene. He yearned to someday, yes, someday, duel with Eugene as equals. That fervent desire remained as a roaring blaze.
Yet, alongside that longing, there was deep respect and affection for Eugene.
‘Don't overthink it,’ Cyan told himself with a mental shake.
The emotion he felt was relatively simple. He felt great pride in his accomplished sibling.
"You brat, why are you acting this way? It's unsettling," Eugene grumbled while playfully jabbing Cyan in the ribs.
As the Lionhearts conversed among themselves, Sienna was with the group from Aroth, and Kristina was with the people of the Holy Empire. Neither particularly wanted to engage in conversation, but their counterparts were insistent.
"Sister, Sister, why didn't you call me for the battle against the Demon King?" Melkith whined while insistently clinging to Sienna's arm.
To Sienna, Melkith was... honestly, quite burdensome and overwhelming. Sienna always found it challenging to deal with such overtly bare-faced and shameless individuals. Particularly unsettling was the fact that Melkith El-Hayah was a genuine fanatic.
‘She’s not like Carmen Lionheart…,’ Sienna observed.
During her journey with Carmen, Sienna had come to realize that Carmen was sensible despite her quirks. Carmen had been the voice of reason, displaying seriousness when necessary and showing deep reflection after the battle against the Demon King. Her admirable character earned the respect of many, including the knights like Ivik Slad.
But what of Melkith El-Hayah? Even the King of Aroth and Lovellian, who had some inkling about Sienna and Eugene's secrets, treaded lightly around Sienna. Yet, there she was, addressing Sienna as 'sister' and whining, making a huge scene in front of a crowd….
What further caused Sienna to break out into goosebumps was the realization of Melkith’s talents as a wizard, especially in spirit magic, despite appearing to be a goon and an utterly crazy woman.
‘Simultaneous contracts with three Spirit Kings…. And as a pure wizard, she's reached the Eighth Circle….’ These realizations truly astounded Sienna.
Such capabilities were almost a divine error.
‘Perhaps the Gods are fair, considering she seems... incomplete as a human,’ Sienna wondered.
While Sienna's feelings towards Melkith could be described as a form of self-loathing in a sense, she never equated herself with Melkith.
"Sister, Sister, for your sake, I could jump into the earth, fire, or even lightning," Melkith passionately declared.
"W-well, of course... You have contracts with the Spirit Kings of Earth, Fire, and Lightning…,” Sienna replied hesitantly.
"Ahhh, Sister! You remember the Spirit Kings I've contracted with! Yes, that’s right. I've contracted with the Spirit Kings of Earth, Fire, and Lightning. But I'm scared, Sister. What if I must enter a storm for you? Sadly, I cannot enter a storm…. Of course, if you wanted me to, Sister, I would leap into one, even at the cost of tearing myself apart. But if I die doing so, it would be pointless….”
Sienna struggled to comprehend the onslaught of words. They made absolutely no sense. She regretted ever allowing Melkith to address her as Sister.
"You seem displeased,” Pope Aeuryus observed.
While Sienna grappled with Melkith's words, Kristina faced the Pope. With Raphael standing beside him as a guardian, the pope drew close to Kristina.
In this context, Raphael was more than a mere bodyguard to the Pope. At Kristina's command, this 'true' devout fanatic of Light would not hesitate to strike the pope down. In Raphael's eyes, the pope’s authority was no higher than Kristina's.
‘...Although that would never happen, if Sir Eugene demanded, Raphael would even attempt to kill the Saint,’ the pope thought with a bitter smile.
There was no one in the Holy Empire with greater prowess than Raphael. Even if all of the Blood Cross Knights tried to kill him, Raphael would survive.
In any case, the Blood Cross Knights would never heed an order to exterminate their commander. Each member of the Blood Cross Knights had dedicated their life to faith through extreme training. They would never think their commander, the Crusader, would turn his back on the Light. As such, they would not heed the order to kill their commander, even if it came from the pope himself.
The Holy Empire's power structure was peculiar. While the pope was the ultimate religious leader, in the end, the true power rested with the Will of the Light.
Previously, when they were both fakes , the pope had no need to heed the Saint.
But the Fount of Light had been destroyed at the hands of the Hero. Their god, who had previously illuminated the Holy Empire with the light regardless of their actions, left hundreds of knights and inquisitors, as well as Cardinal Sergio Rogeris, to die at the Hero’s hand. And the Saint had now spread her eight wings. She had even more wings than the most beloved angel of the Light, as mentioned in the scripture.
If the two of them, no…. Even if Kristina alone ascended the skies of the Holy Empire with her wings spread and proclaimed that the pope had betrayed the Light, the people would have thrown rocks, torn the papacy down, and burnt him at the stake.
"Your Holiness, your intent is so overt and messy, it's unsettling," Kristina commented coldly.
The pope responded with a hint of surprise, "You address me as Your Holiness."
"If I showed Your Holiness any less respect in front of all these people, everyone would surely find it both amusing and strange,” Kristina responded frigidly.
"Heh... but I truly am an amusing, odd, and grotesque old man," the pope said, sounding as if he wasn’t talking about himself.
"Even Your Holiness’ self-deprecation sickens me," Kristina said flatly.
"Please, feel that way, Saint Rogeris. You and the Hero Eugene successfully vanquished a Demon King. During the collapse of the Fount of Light... perhaps I could've twisted the Will of the Light and justified myself, but now, I no longer can," the pope said as he removed his hat and placed it over his chest. "Perhaps you should end this wretched old man's suffering and take over?" he suggested with a hint of resignation.
"Did you approach me to hear an answer to that question?" Kristina inquired, her eyes sharp.
"By the Light, I swear…. I never acted out of selfishness. I foolishly misconstrued the Will of the Light, believing I was doing what was necessary for the sake of the kingdom of god," the pope confessed with a heavy heart.
A tense silence ensued.
After a bit, the pope was the one to speak again. "But now… I realize my actions and those of the preceding popes in shaping Yuras as the kingdom of god were misguided. So, should not a true Chosen of the Light, one blessed with the divine spirit, rightly guide and govern Yuras?" he asked.
Kristina regarded the pope intently. Regardless of whether he was sincere or not, in the current circumstances, the pope had no power to refuse her.
"No," Kristina slowly shook her head. "Neither I nor Sir Eugene wish to rule over Yuras."
The Pope remained silent, taking in her words.
"So, Your Holiness, continue in your role as the pope," she advised.
"Pardon me, Saint."
"But do not be mistaken. Although Your Holiness must remain as you are, you mustn't act as the representative of the Light's will, nor even try to interpret it,” Kristina warned.
Kristina's gaze bore into him, searching for any hint of insincerity. "Do you understand?"
"I will heed your words," the pope replied without a hint of displeasure, nodding solemnly.
Kristina then turned her attention to the rear, where a battle-ready clergy unit stood. They were prepared for the Saint. Members of Graceful Radiance composed the holy symbol on thin air when they saw her.
"…As you likely know, Your Holiness, times are changing," Kristina began.
"Yes," the pope replied.
"A crusade is... imminent. The exact time is unknown, but you must prepare for it," Kristina said sternly.
"Yes."
"During the preparations, please do not hinder Sir Eugene,” she advised.
"We shall gather the martyrs,” the pope responded.
"Among them, pick those who are especially devout and… prepared. Supplement the Graceful Radiance with these picks,” Kristina said in a voice quivering with a mix of determination and pain.
The Graceful Radiance was a suicide squad. From its inception, it was designed to be so. Both Anise and Kristina had concurred and pursued this design.
For ages, Yuras’ Faculty of Divine Magic researched miracles and developed new ones. They had created a faux-divine Saint, mass-produced relics through her, and even advanced the development of holy lands.
Anise and Kristina had returned the relics that the department held to the Light through sacraments. They had also sent back chimeric holy weapons to the Light and destroyed most of the ongoing research materials.
However, they had kept what could be utilized.
They couldn't fight against the Demon Kings of Incarceration and Destruction by solely following principles.
Once members of the Luminous Covenant, the combat priests were bio-weapons refined with divine power. Although they weren't comparable in 'completeness,' they were akin to Anise and Kristina.
For them, salvation was to offer themselves in the crusade as martyrs for the Light. While it was now impossible to mass-produce such weapons, there was still a need to bolster the ranks of the Graceful Radiance.
[Heaven exists,] whispered Anise in Kristina's tormented mind.
Even Anise's voice bore the weight of sorrow. [The Light will guide them there.]
Kristina sighed deeply as she nodded in agreement.
***
Eugene gazed upwards with his mouth agape. Before him stood a magnificent lion, radiating a blinding, almost excessive, brilliance.
"It took quite some effort to craft," the King of Shimuin, Oseris, boasted with pride, seizing the opportunity to make a big deal out of it. "You know, the artisans from the dwarven guild never collaborate with human artisans. But for this grand march, human and dwarf artisans worked together for the first time."
"We assisted as well," chimed in Ivatar with a boisterous laugh.
"Hauled the wood, cut it, and refined it, just as instructed,” Aman chuckled in agreement.
Eugene wasn’t sure how to respond.
He could not smile. His face contorted with a blend of horror and embarrassment. His fists were clenched tightly.
"You might find it unfamiliar, Mister Eugene,” said Oseris. “This is a float. It is used in the Shedor Island festival parade. This specific float has its own name—"
"Platinum Lion," a dwarf interrupted, standing proudly in front of the float. He was stroking his long beard. "The platinum and jewels used on this Platinum Lion could purchase several castles. And we imbued the magic of Aroth in its construction. Astonishingly, the Platinum Lion doesn't roll on wheels but walks! Haha! Imagine that! Marvelous, isn't it?" he boasted.
"Ehem, as he says, Mister Eugene," Oseris said with a smirk while pointing at the Platinum Lion. "Climb aboard."
Eugene was gripped with horror at these words.
“The Platinum Lion will lead the parade. The streets have been cleared for the parade, and every citizen of the city is eagerly awaiting for it to begin.”
Eugene just turned his head to avoid Oseris's gaze.
Around him were dozens of floats, some newly crafted, while others resembled those from past parades. One thing was clear: the Platinum Lion outshone them all, standing tall and magnificent among its counterparts.
"I would've preferred a Dark Lion," Carmen murmured from the side, seemingly entranced by the Platinum Lion. She rubbed her chin thoughtfully while observing the float.
Eugene gritted his teeth, holding back whatever retort bubbled within him.