Chapter 11
Perhaps because divine power was an energy manifested by the faithfulness and prayers offered to the Goddess.
Holy water seemed to heed the wishes of its user, granting their desires.
Not only simple things like removing stains, but it could restore spoiled food to an unspoiled state, keep food from spoiling even after a month,
mend torn clothes back to their original state, and revive the edge of a dulled blade.
“A miracle, it’s a miracle!”
It was precisely that—a miracle.
Moreover, Pontiff Ian of this generation was of the Consecrated Bloodline, possessing such formidable divine power that he could produce vast quantities of holy water without tiring.
Because of this, everyone from nobles to wealthy commoners experienced great changes in their daily lives through holy water.
Under the pretense of maintaining cleanliness and keeping a pleasant scent, there was no longer any need for those crude, haphazard compounds they used to mix together.
“Just one holy water is enough!”
With that one thing alone, everything went exactly as desired—couldn’t be more convenient, right?
Thus, the holy water changed the empire, and the changed empire, Archion, allowed the children of Ephina to take what they wanted.
“Oh, long live the Pope!”
And so, in Archion, which was already called a Holy Empire, now was the time when the power of the church had become strongest.
And at the center of that change was Pope Ian, who from a single poor commoner to the Emperor,
was someone who never hesitated to serve all of Archion.
……No, that was how he was known.
“……Your Holiness, are you tired?”
“A little. Perhaps from making a lot of holy water lately.”
He was a Pope who had produced holy water several times more than usual due to the war with Beakin.
The priests hurriedly bowed their heads.
“Would you like to rest? We will withdraw for a moment.”
Ian did not refuse the suggestion. As he gestured, the priests retreated in a rush.
“…….”
Left alone in the center of the temple garden where he had been strolling, Ian closed his eyes.
“Why…….”
Tired? He didn’t feel such a thing at all.
Rather, it felt as if the energy throughout his entire body was now surging.
And for good reason.
‘To the people of the empire, I express gratitude for the grace of Lady Ephina, which allowed us to defeat the wicked Beakin and bring here the witch who stood at its center.’
He had found it bothersome to appear before people, so he had High Priest Lekia receive the princess in his stead.
He didn’t care what happened to the princess.
After all, this continent was going to perish anyway.
Now that Beakin had been absorbed by Archion, they would accept the holy water too, and once they grew accustomed to it, he could send them all, everyone, plummeting into the abyss at once.
These damned empires that killed both the people he loved and the people he wanted to love should just all be destroyed.
That’s what he thought, but—
“Why are you…….”
Why are you here?
The moment he saw the princess from a distance, he knew.
It was her.
The girl he thought had died when they were young.
He could never forget.
Divine power is the force that makes desires come true. Using that power, he carved a mark on the back of his own hand, imbued with the wish to repay the girl from his childhood.
That’s why, the moment he saw her, the burning pain in the back of his hand told him he knew.
The divine power coursing through his entire body was speaking to him.
What are you doing, not immediately repaying your benefactor—the one who, if only briefly, gave the young you a taste of freedom?
‘Catch them!’
It hadn’t been long since the Consecrated Bloodline became prized.
Contrary to the beautiful stories told to the public, the temple had long been rotten under the control of High Priest Lekia.
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