The capital of Lucerne, Ern.
From above, it always struck as an incredibly white city. As if obsessively selecting only white stone, the buildings were flawless white, and even the dirt on the ground seed pale.
In this overwhelmingly white world, the only things with color were the people walking its streets.
Lucerne’s citizens, clad in black and white garnts, wore rosaries gleaming with tallic luster around their necks. Even so, the subdued monochromatic sche gave only an impression of plainness.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been here, but… what can I say? It’s a hard city to feel attached to.”
Seira murmured her thoughts as soon as she stepped off the dock.
Ten years ago, she had felt the sa when she ca here following Shiron. This city was too desolate for human life. Back then, having co from Nightrail, she thought it might have been the contrast, but now, even after all these years, her impression remained unchanged. It solidified her belief that the city’s aesthetics were the issue.
“Isn’t it magnificent?”
Contrary to Seira’s negative impression, Deviale, who had volunteered as their guide, was overwheld with emotion.
“There are countless beautiful cities in the world, but if we talk about restraint and cleanliness, Lucerne is second to none.”
“…It’s beautiful, I suppose.”
“I’m glad Lady Lucia feels that way.”
“But isn’t it too dazzling? In the height of sumr or at noon, wouldn’t it be hard to walk around with the glare?”
“Yes, exactly!”
Deviale exclaid cheerfully, almost excessively so. Without his cardinal’s title, one might mistake him for a guide trying to earn a tip.
“At noon, the light is so blinding that tears well up involuntarily. So people even sit down and close their eyes on the spot.”
“…Excuse ?”
“During those thirty minutes from noon, people pray right where they are. When the sun is at its zenith, everyone in the streets closes their eyes and prays. It’s a breathtaking sight.”
What kind of nonsense was that? Lucia thought, and Yoru, overhearing, seed to share her sentint.
“So, do we also have to pray during that ti?”
“Haha, while it’s encouraged, you’re not obligated to. Lucerne may seem like a theocracy, but praying is more about receiving sanctity than obligation.”
“Sanctity?”
“…Lucerne’s citizens are perhaps the thirstiest for proof of God’s existence.”
For a mont, Deviale’s expression darkened. Lucia tilted her head in curiosity at his sudden shift in tone.
“God’s existence?”
“Everyone here has their reasons for clinging to God.”
It wasn’t Deviale who answered, but Shiron. Watching the people, his face unconsciously tightened.
Faith as an escape.
On the surface, the people’s expressions seed varied enough to suggest a normal life, but they barely maintained their humanity, like castles made of sand.
Latera quietly examined their souls.
A faint, thin light covered filthy stains beneath. The filth represented mories they wished to forget, while the light was the veil gained through prayer and acts of faith.
“Brother Shiron is correct. For them, faith is a lifeline, sothing they cannot do without.”
Deviale chose his words carefully, giving a hearty laugh, but Latera noted the lingering impurities on his soul.
“It’s no wonder this city’s aesthetics lack humanity as well.”
After leaving the dock and walking further, the reason beca clear.
A faint yet undeniable sanctity lingered.
“Have you ever witnessed a miracle?”
“That depends on how you define a miracle.”
“Of course, I consider Brother Shiron himself a miracle. But miracles are always present around us in so form.”
Deviale smiled warmly.
“The capital of Lucerne, Ern, was once a small rural village. Gradually, it beca a haven for those afflicted with spiritual ailnts.”
“Are you saying miracles isolated the lunatics?”
Smack!
Yoru yelped as a hand smacked the back of her head. Lucia forced her to bow as she apologized to Deviale.
“She says the darndest things! My apologies, Cardinal. Please, continue.”
“…Ahem. In short, God transford the entire village into a pure white haven. Prayer, previously unknown there, beca a norm.”
“A founding myth of Lucerne.”
“Indeed, as Brother Shiron said. That village grew into the Lucerne we see today.”
“…”
Lucia recalled the events of 500 years ago. Back then, many priests led healing rituals through faith, but she had never heard of a country nad Lucerne.
Perhaps in the deserts of Daviard? No, Brahham in Daviard was established after Kyrie’s death, so it’s not comparable.
Still, the people of Brahham seed much happier. This place felt different sohow.
Was it because these people were descendants of the ntally ill?
Lucia thought back to her academy lessons. There was a course on inherited traits, which covered not only mana aptitude and intelligence for magic but also the potential inheritance of ntal illnesses from parents.
While infants didn’t develop ntal illnesses at birth, they might be more susceptible under hardship.
As such thoughts swirled, Lucia watched Deviale intently.
“Cardinal, are you originally from Lucerne?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Just curious.”
“…No, I’m not from Lucerne. I’m from an unnad rural village in the western continent.”
“The west? Isn’t Brahham in Daviard located there? You’ve co quite a long way to study in Lucerne.”
“Haha, that too was thanks to a miracle.”
“A miracle?”
[A miracle?]
Latera’s eyes widened. For a brief mont, Deviale’s soul emitted a strong sense of denial.
“I was born a slave. My village was burned down by cultists…”
Smack!
Shiron’s fist landed on Lucia’s head. Startled by her blunder, she quickly bowed deeply.
“I’m sorry!”
“…It’s fine. In the end, I was taken in by passing holy knights, which brought to Lucerne.”
“My apologies again…”
“I told you, there’s no need. Thanks to that, I could rise to the rank of cardinal and et Brother Shiron.”
Deviale gazed at Shiron with a deep, aningful look.
A shiver ran down Shiron’s spine as goosebumps prickled his arms. Tightening his stance, he spoke with a grimace.
“Let’s skip the dark stories and get moving.”
“Ah, how forgetful of .”
Deviale clapped his forehead and resud leading the group. The lingering stains on his soul vanished without a trace.
The group finally arrived at a grand plaza.
The Plaza of Light.
An awe-inspiring sight no matter how many tis one sees it. White spires pierced the azure sky, and statues of angels holding torches or swords radiated majesty.
At the center stood the entrance to the Grand Cathedral.
It was obvious at a glance that this was an important place. From the intense energy emanating within the building to the strict guards stationed at the entrance, everything spoke of its significance.
“What will you do now? Will you enter with ?”
“Hmm. I am curious about what kind of sche has gathered so many people here.”
“Haha. So it’s not just about the shield return, is it?”
When Shiron replied playfully, Deviale chuckled in response.
While Shiron’s remark implied he would create chaos if anything unusual occurred, Deviale’s heart had already shifted. Though he had devoted his life to Lucerne, he felt closer to Shiron.
“Greetings. I am Shiron Prient.”
In the nave of the Grand Cathedral, Shiron bowed slightly without looking at the gathered faces.
As expected, many cardinals were assembled inside.
It seed a formal summons had been issued. Twelve chairs were occupied by cardinals, excluding Deviale.
“Deviale, please take your seat here.”
The voice ca from above the cardinals, spoken by the figure presiding over Lucerne’s Twelve Cardinals.
“Yes, Your Holiness.”
Deviale wished to remain by Shiron’s side, but duty required separation. Especially since Shiron’s identity as a Hero had to remain secret, Deviale’s reluctance only grew with each step.
The Holy Pope was an elf.
Lucia, ready to draw her sword at any mont, scanned the assembly.
And many of the cardinals had pointed ears too.
They weren’t pure elves—likely mixed-blood descendants. Among the faces, she recognized one.
Cardinal Iris Cardiore.
Though her ears weren’t as pointed as the Pope’s, they were noticeable. Pure mana wasn’t present in her aura; instead, she exuded only holy light.
“It’s been a while, Priest Shiron.”
A calm, soothing voice rang out.
Diego Rio Kali.
The Holy Pope of Lucerne smiled warmly at Shiron.
“It has been a while, Your Holiness. I have co to return [Hesed’s Shield].”
Shiron produced the shield, worn and weathered, from his belongings. As he approached the Holy Pope, the cardinals watched him intently.
Half displayed hostility, three were neutral, and the rest were favorable.
But Shiron paid no mind. He walked confidently, unconcerned by their scrutiny.
“Thank you for allowing to use it all this ti.”
He placed Hesed’s Shield gently at the Pope’s feet. The Pope clicked his tongue in apparent regret.
“I wish I could let you keep it longer, but the managent of holy relics is not mine to decide alone.”
His tone was genuinely regretful, making Shiron tilt his head slightly in puzzlent.
“Is that so?”
“Indeed. As you know, the matter of recalling Hesed’s Shield was raised during the Cardinals’ eting. With Cardinal Deviale absent, the majority voted for its retrieval.”
“…Why ntion this now?”
“Because I believe you can change their minds, Brother Shiron.”
How, exactly?
Shiron didn’t bother asking such a foolish question.
“…This wasn’t what I planned to do here.”
Instead, he let out a hearty laugh, one that bordered on disrespectful for a priest. Even so, none of the twelve cardinals reprimanded him. They had been forewarned by the Pope and were here only to witness the truth with their own eyes.
“Just this once. So, don’t go blabbering about it elsewhere.”
Shiron, his face slightly flushed, drew a sword from his side.
[Holy Sword]
A radiant holy aura pierced the ground as he planted the blade before them.
“Is this enough? I am the Hero.”
“Ah… this is it!”
Lucia’s face lit up with excitent, only to be followed by imdiate regret.
“I should have done sothing like that!”
Shiron truly understood the art of flair.
Reviews
All reviews (0)