Chapter 71
Chapter 71
“Really?” Hilde’s eyes widened, then curved into beautiful crescents. “Actually… I was a little curious too.” Her voice trembled with emotion. She was moved by the mere mention of gratitude, gratitude she rightfully deserved, gratitude she had only heard secondhand. “Thank you…”
“For what?”
“You didn’t have to, but you told me.”
Benedict was momentarily speechless. Right before his eyes was this innocent woman, rejoicing over mere words of thanks. Even if he had lied, she would have believed him implicitly. She was that pure. She probably couldn’t even fathom the depths of human malice, how deep and dark that abyss could be. Her naiveté was almost laughable, yet it bothered him, it kept nagging at him.
“Some lunatics even wondered if an angel had visited,” he added, a jest incongruous with his usual demeanor.
“What?” She stared at him, wide-eyed like a startled rabbit, then covered her mouth with her hand, letting out a shy laugh. Her clear, bright laughter tickled his ears. It was a refreshing sound, as if clearing the fog from his mind. Strangely, though it was his ears that heard it, a corner of his chest felt a subtle stirring.
A moment later, Hilde, her face slightly flushed, tucked her hair behind her ear and spoke. “When I was young… I often heard fairy tales about beautiful saints with divine power.”
At that moment, Benedict’s heart lurched violently. “So, when I was naive, I dreamt of becoming a saint.”
He felt uneasy, constricted, uncomfortable. It was as if he had swallowed something foul. This unfamiliar sensation created an unresolved discomfort. “If I had… would things be different now?”
Managing to suppress his agitation, he feigned composure and spoke. “What utter nonsense.” His deliberately lighthearted reprimand was a mask to conceal his true feelings.
“I’m sorry for saying something silly,” Hilde replied with an awkward smile, and just then, he was struck by an ominous premonition. A premonition that he would soon long to see that smile again.
***
In the Grand Duke’s office, Benedict’s sharp eyes scanned the documents. They were classified documents obtained from various temples and the royal palace of Crozeta. The documents related to divine power were so old and faded that it wouldn’t be surprising if they crumbled to dust. They had arrived in their original state, leaving no trace of forgery.
“A saint.”
“Yes, Your Grace. Until a hundred years ago, records of the saint and the divine power she wielded remained in the ruined Grand Temple.” Moritz spoke, his face filled with excitement, relaying the facts he had gleaned from the records. “The divine power manifested by this saint was the ability to manipulate water. Quite remarkable. When there was a drought, she could…”
However, Benedict’s focus wasn’t on the saint’s achievements. “She didn’t live past twenty-five.”
“Pardon?”
Benedict continued, his gaze fixed on the saint’s record, which ended with the words “deceased.”
“But there’s no cause of death.”
“Perhaps an accident or illness at a young age?”
Instead of answering, Benedict flipped through the documents, tracing back to earlier records. “Twenty-nine, twenty-four, twenty-seven.” As he recited the ages of death one by one, bewilderment slowly spread across Moritz’s face. “They all died young, didn’t they?”
Regardless of gender, those of common birth who manifested divine power and left their names in the temple’s history all died prematurely. Some who became lower-ranking priests lived past thirty, but even they only lived a few more years. “Furthermore, there’s only mention of their deaths, no reasons given. As if they’re deliberately hiding something.” A fleeting thought made Moritz gulp. “Perhaps the use of divine power affects lifespan?” His question was extremely cautious, given that his lord currently held a slave with divine power. Especially since he had heard that this slave was special.
“Perhaps,” Benedict replied casually, flipping through the documents. His eyes had almost reached the first page of the records. “But the founding High Priest who established the temple and the subsequent priests of noble birth all lived long lives.”
Moritz’s face became a mask of confusion upon hearing this. “Then what does this mean…?”
Benedict returned to the last saint’s record and reviewed the contents. She was the first individual to manifest divine power in Crozeta in decades.
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