Chapter 268. Payoff Secured (2)
"The Holy Kingdom has chosen to grasp the hands of its allies to drive out the darkness looming over the continent! People of the Light! A new era has begun. To save this land from the shadows, your help is essential! March forth across the continent with the Warrior, Caron Leston!"
A grand festival erupted across the entire Holy Kingdom. The people, who had long suffered under the grip of the Order of Truth, poured into the streets to praise the Pope, the Warrior, and the Grand Saintess.
How many lives had been lost under the banner of a crusade? Those among the rebels who showed true remorse were granted forgiveness and returned to their families. Those who refused to repent were led to the underground prisons of the Vatican.
It was all Caron's doing. The Warrior had changed the Holy Kingdom.
The once closed-off Vatican now declared the opening of its gates to the world. Until now, goods from the empire and the Sultanate had entered only through smuggling. But now, full-scale trade had been initiated.
A few of the clergy submitted complaints, protesting that holy relics could be sold for money.
To that, Caron responded with biting sarcasm, "Oh? Then will you go out and earn some cash yourselves? Or do you plan to keep leeching off the people forever? I could help pass a new law—make labor mandatory for all clergy."
"I-I'm sorry!" one of the clergy said.
"Watch yourselves. Unless you want your necks on the chopping block," Caron said.
Faced with Caron's fierce pressure, the complaints ceased altogether.
Fortunately, the empire had sent administrators well-prepared for this. They quickly began identifying the flaws of the Holy Kingdom.
"So they call this a holy kingdom," one muttered, "but it only functioned by squeezing its people dry."
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It was an outdated administration with uneven resource distribution. Problems plagued every corner of society, and yet, the kingdom had managed to stay afloat for two reasons alone: Its faith and fertile land.
Within the kingdom's territory lay the Noktar Plains—the most bountiful farmland on the entire continent.
On this front, Caron willingly leaned on his father's power and the influence of the Leston family.
"My son... Are you dreaming of uniting the continent or something?" Fayle asked though the communication orb.
"We might as well, right?" Caron replied.
"Tsk tsk. Says the boy who claimed he didn't want to be the head of the house. Fine. I'll inform His Majesty and have administrators dispatched," Fayle said.
"Thank you, Father," Caron said. Ending the communication with Fayle, he slowly looked up at Leo and Leon.
"We've taken care of the urgent matters. Now, let's go search for our ancestor's legacy," Caron said as he tossed the communication orb carelessly onto the desk. Then he began to gather his gear.
Their guide, of course, was the Grand Saintess Seria. She let out a sigh and nodded, then said, "I've never heard of any traces of Rael Leston remaining in the Holy Kingdom."
"We didn't know either until recently," Caron admitted.
"The lands surrounding the Holy Capital have already been thoroughly excavated by archaeologists. If Rael Leston left behind any legacy—" Seria began, but was cut off.
Caron interrupted her sentence by lightly tapping the hilt of Guillotine, then said, "This will be our key."
Guillotine would guide them to it. All they had to do was carry the sword and walk around the capital.
Caron gently patted Seria's shoulder and smiled, then said, "Let the experts handle the politics now. Time for us to go treasure hunting."
Caron wondered what sort of legacy Rael had left behind. No doubt it would become a great asset in the battles ahead against the demons.
"Since the fighting's over, let's stop by the city market first and grab some food," Caron said.
"Oh, really? We can?" Leo asked.
"Of course. When you're in a foreign land, you have to try the local specialties. So, Saintess, what's famous in the capital?" Caron asked.
"The bread from the Pope's own bakery is the most well-known. The dough is made using holy water, giving it a gentle holy power," Seria explained.
"Sounds good. Saintess, do you have money?" Caron asked.
"...Excuse me?" Seria responded.
"I mean, I did just save the Holy Kingdom. I think you owe me a meal," Caron said.
Ever the shameless one, he was now digging into a saintess' pockets.
Seria chuckled awkwardly and nodded, then said, "I could offer you something greater, if you like."
"That's alright, bread is more than enough—so long as you're buying," Caron replied.
Of course, he planned to work her to the bone. Now that she had become the Grand Saintess, she would no doubt play a crucial role in the war against the demons.
For today, though, Caron decided a few loaves of bread were enough.
"Let's go on a picnic," Caron said.
With the crisis resolved, the four of them moved on with light steps, slipping into the festive atmosphere of the capital.
***
"This really does taste healthy. It's addictive, actually," Caron said between bites of his sandwich.
Four young men and women moved at a leisurely pace. They were walking along a well-kept path that stretched across a quiet field on the outskirts of the Holy Capital.
Caron had bought the sandwich from the Vatican bakery. He had five layers of steak packed between the bread.
"Are you sure we're going the right way?" Leon asked, chewing through her own sandwich, which had three layers of steak.
Before Caron could answer, Guillotine responded on his behalf, "You don't trust me?"
Whoosh.
A low, resonant hum followed. Guillotine, now capable of speech through resonance, let its eerie voice ring out, making Leon flinch as she nodded stiffly.
"I mean, who trusts a demonic sword?" Leon said.
"See? I told you Leon was the smart one," Caron said with a grin.
"How dare you belittle the blade of the founder? And you call yourselves Lestons?" Guillotine said.
Leo, walking beside them, couldn't help but burst into laughter.
"Leo Leston. Even you mock me...?" Guillotine growled.
"Oh, don't take it personally, Guillotine. Rigor called you an old boomer, that's all," Leo replied.
"That insolent excuse for an ego sword needs to be disciplined. The audacity of such a rootless blade!" Guillotine said.
With two ego swords in their party, things were rarely quiet.
"Should we get you one too, Leon?" Caron asked playfully.
"No thanks. I'd rather not end up with some kind of mental disorder," Leon replied dryly.
As the three cousins bantered with their talkative swords, Seria, walking behind them, let out a small sigh. She thought they were such peculiar people. No matter where in the world you put them, they'd still stand out. The funny part was, none of them seemed to realize it.
But if we continue down this path... Seria thought to herself.
It was familiar. Of course it was—this trail was part of the official pilgrimage route. Following the direction that Guillotine insisted on would lead them to one of the holiest sites in the Holy Kingdom.
It was the resting place of Saint Kamael. He had been the Warrior of two hundred and seventy years ago. In the early days of the Holy Kingdom, he had defended the land against demons—a legendary figure whose feats had become scripture.
At the end of this path lay his tomb.
"Caron, are you familiar with Saint Kamael?" Seria asked gently.
Caron shrugged and replied, "Why would I be?"
"Saint Kamael felled thousands of demons single-handedly. His final battle was so awe-inspiring that it's been preserved in murals. The scriptures say he returned to the embrace of Light after receiving fatal wounds in that final fight. His tomb has long been revered as a sacred site, visited and cherished by countless faithful," Seria continued.
Her tone softened as she added, "At least... That's what the scripture says."
There was a flicker of hesitation in her voice, and Caron caught it immediately. There was more to this story. Something hidden behind the holy veneer.
"In truth," Seria admitted, "There's no body in Saint Kamael's tomb."
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"...What?" Caron asked.
"There's just a coffin. The Holy Kingdom never recovered his remains," Seria answered.
Now this got Caron interested. He finished off the last bite of his sandwich, wiped his hands, and asked with a sly smile, "So it's just symbolic, then? A monument?"
"Even without a body, Saint Kamael's very name was enough to unite the faithful. No one knows where he actually died," Seria replied.
Several theories flickered through Caron's mind. After a brief pause, he casually smacked the hilt of Guillotine with his fist and asked, "You know anything?"
"About what?" Guillotine asked.
"Any chance Saint Kamael is the founder?" Caron asked.
"Did you hit your head or something? If that were true, don't you think I'd have mentioned it ages ago?" Guillotine said with a scoff.
"Hmm," Caron responded.
The time periods were different. There was a thirty-year gap between the days of Rael Leston and Saint Kamael.
Caron sifted through everything he remembered about Rael's final years. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't recall anything related.
Rael had lived in a time before the Holy Kingdom even existed. The kingdom had only formed after the war against the demons, when the clergy banded together to establish it.
"...Well, we'll find out soon enough," Caron said.
There was no point in overthinking things here. What couldn't be answered with logic could be answered by simply walking forward.
"Interesting," Caron muttered.
And so they continued, moving briskly along the path. After some time passed, they finally arrived at their destination.
"Wow," Leo murmured, staring up at the tomb of Saint Kamael.
There was a statue of the paladin standing tall, gripping a sword in hand. Clad in a silver mask, the statue shone with a pristine white glow under the sunlight.
A few faithful pilgrims lingered nearby, whispering prayers, while paladins stood guard around the tomb.
"We greet the Warrior. Welcome to Saint Kamael's Grand Chapel," one of the paladins said. He appeared to be in charge, stepping forward swiftly to receive them.
Caron casually waved a hand in response and said, "Thanks for your service. We'd like to enter the tomb."
The paladin hesitated, caught off guard by the request—but Seria quickly stepped forward and said, "We have the Pope's authorization."
"Ah, I see. Then I'll escort you right away," the paladin replied.
The Pope had granted Caron and his companions unrestricted access to anywhere within the Holy Kingdom. According to law, the Warrior held authority equal to the Pope.
In other words, there was nowhere Caron couldn't go.
Following the paladin's lead, they began walking slowly toward the tomb.
Some of the faithful who had gathered to pray before Saint Kamael recognized Caron and began to cheer.
"It's the Warrior!"
"Thank you! Truly, thank you!"
"Glory be to the Light!"
Caron had grown used to such loud praises by now. He waved lightly toward the crowd before turning his gaze ahead.
Just like the tombs of the imperial family in the empire or the kings of the Pajar Sultanate, Saint Kamael's tomb was equally grand. Statues stood solemnly throughout the courtyard.
"This place is formally called Saint Kamael's Grand Chapel," Seria explained. "In the Holy Kingdom, every chapel is built over the resting place of a saint."
She continued quietly, "The official stance of the Vatican is that Saint Kamael's remains are kept beneath this cathedral."
"I see," Caron said.
Even compared to the many chapels they had seen across the capital, this one was stunning in both size and splendor. Chandeliers glittered from the high ceiling, and magnificent paintings and stained-glass windows adorned the walls.
As they stepped inside the chapel, even Caron couldn't help but gasp. Light in every color shimmered across the ceiling, blending beautifully with the gentle holy power that suffused the air. The entire space radiated an overwhelming sense of sanctity.
"This way," the paladin said, leading them to a door before stopping. "From here, I'm not permitted to go any further. It has been an honor to escort you."
"Thank you for your service," Caron said with a smile, giving the paladin a friendly pat on the shoulder. The paladin, moved to tears, bowed deeply before stepping away.
"...Was that really necessary?" Leo muttered, looking unimpressed.
Seria gave a faint smile and said to Leo, "To them, Caron is the embodiment of Light, sent directly to this world."
"I feel sick," Leo groaned.
"Then puke," Caron said flatly, glaring at him. Without missing a beat, he opened the door.
It led to a wide room, and at its center was a staircase descending into the depths below.
Seria stepped beside Caron and spoke softly, "We call this the Stairway to Shadow. At the bottom lies a sealed door—one that has never once been opened since this chapel was built."
"No one knows what's beyond it?" Caron asked.
"The Holy Kingdom once invited several grand mages to investigate. All of them failed. The door could neither be opened nor destroyed. The only thing they discovered was that it was sealed with ancient magic," Seria explained.
Caron silently followed Seria down the stairs.
And there it was—a stone door shimmering faintly with a blue glow.
Caron placed his hand on the door.
Whoosh.
Guillotine began to resonate. A low voice echoed in the air as it muttered, "...What is this?"
The stone door vibrated in response.
Krrrrrk.
With the grinding sound of heavy stone, the blue door began to shift open.
Seria let out a breathless gasp, then whispered, "O Light..."
A door that had never opened, not once in centuries, was now moving effortlessly.
Caron glanced sideways at Seria and said, "Looks like it opens just fine."
"It must be the will of the Light... Caron, I cannot step past this threshold. I pray you will—" Seria began, but was cut off.
"What are you talking about?" Caron interrupted. "You're coming with me."
He grabbed her by the wrist and turned back, continuing, "What if there's a trap inside and someone gets hurt? You're our walking potion, Saintess."
"...Ah I see," Seria replied quietly.
"Well? What are the rest of you waiting for?" Caron called. "We're going in."
And with Seria in tow, Caron stepped beyond the door.
***
Ten minutes later, Caron scowled deeply. "Maybe our founder went senile in his final years."
"Caron," Leo said, frowning, "You can't just talk about the founder like that—"
"Shut up and draw your sword if you don't want to die," Leon interrupted.
"Yes, ma'am," Leo said.
Something no one could have predicted happened.