In the Nest of the Fallen Serpent - Chapter 72

Schedule: Thurs and Sun

March 8, 883 by the Kingdom Calendar. The drought dried the wells of the royal palace and the temple, so the Saint used her divine power.

March 9, 883. The Saint used her divine power on several wells belonging to noble families.

March 10, 883. The Saint used her divine power during the pond construction at the royal palace.

The records were meticulously detailed, like a diary. However, this was not to honor the Saint’s achievements. Benedict checked the numbers written beside each entry: 80 gold, 53 gold, 60 gold… Occasionally, items were listed instead of monetary amounts.

After reviewing the remaining documents, Benedict arrived at a succinct conclusion. “They exploited her, traded her like a commodity.”

The King and the High Priest, in collusion, had exploited the common-born wielders of divine power to the bone. While outwardly revered as Saints and Priestesses, they were nothing more than glorified slaves, their very essence drained away by the royals and nobles.

Slaves.

Benedict thought of the woman he had claimed as his own. The one who, exhausted from using her divine power all day, would now be lost in a deep slumber. His eyes darkened.

“Find the cause of death.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. And…” Moritz hesitated, his expression conflicted. “While investigating the whereabouts of the holy sword, we received information that a dagger, suspected to be the holy sword, was sighted near the former border of Crozeta and the Empire.”

Benedict’s eyebrow arched. Then, he let out a hollow laugh. “Moritz Lemon, do you believe such nonsense?” The holy sword belonged to Crozeta. It was preposterous that such a precious relic would stray so far from the heart of the royal capital, near the Empire’s territory.

“But the witness’s testimony and the location are exceedingly specific.”

“Even if the location is accurate, what guarantee is there that the dagger is still there?”

“I believe there’s a high probability the dagger remains in that location. Because…” Moritz paused, then continued, his speech unwavering despite the sharp questioning. “The sword is said to be embedded in a rock.”

Benedict frowned. “Embedded in a rock?”

“Yes. The witness stumbled upon it on a mountainside and couldn’t pull it out no matter how hard they tried. After several attempts, they were thrown back. Fearing it was a cursed sword, they fled.”

His golden eyes narrowed. “…It’s worth investigating.” If this information was true, it would explain why the holy sword hadn’t been found despite thorough searches throughout Crozeta’s royal capital and other key areas.

“Assemble a few elite knights. We’ll leave soon.”

“As you command.”

Having issued his orders, Benedict left his office. His steps led him to the bedroom.

In the lit room, a small woman was curled up in her usual corner by the sofa, dozing.

“She’s always asleep before I arrive.” Despite the chiding words, his tone was gentle. He lifted Hilde as effortlessly as a straw doll.

“Mmm…” Half-asleep, she nestled closer to his warmth, a soft whimper escaping her lips. Benedict’s gaze deepened. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

‘Have I made her use her power too much?’ He had let her do as she pleased, since she seemed to enjoy it. But until he knew the definitive cause of her shortened lifespan, even if the use of divine power wasn’t the primary factor, he decided he should restrict it.

“Even if you cry and beg, I won’t allow it anymore.” Benedict whispered, lightly flicking her cheek.

Lost in her dreams, Hilde’s eyelids fluttered, and she awoke. “Hmm…” Her clouded mind gradually cleared, her blurry vision focused, and finally, she met his golden gaze. “…Master?”