Chapter 95 - An Unwelcome Guest (2)

A little earlier.

The Pontiff had shown up unannounced at the capital's headquarters before, but back then, she had entered the country illegally under someone else's identity.

Having her request an official visit with everything out in the open was an entirely different level of pressure.

Even the air she exuded as she strode boldly through the headquarters corridors, black vestments billowing, was worlds apart from her last visit. Back then, she had seemed to be testing the waters. Now, she radiated the determination to take him away and put him to work, and no one had better try to stop her.

The person at her side only reinforced that impression.

He had never seen the man before, but felt he knew who he was at once.

A paladin so enormous that he made a woman of ordinary height look like a dwarf. With heavy armor covering even his face, his sheer bulk was terrifyingly intimidating.

'The Perfected One.'

The Pontiff's personal bodyguard. Magnus, the Perfected One.

The strongest paladin in history.

Of course, the strongest wielder of divinity was the Pontiff. That fundamental principle never changed. And Abigail III ranked among the best even across all of history.

Calling anyone else the strongest with someone like her around might seem absurd, but there was a reason for it.

'... He's practically invincible in close combat.'

If the Pontiff had a stat of ten in every possible use of divinity, this man's other stats hovered around four or five, while his combat stat alone sat at eleven.

The strongest in close combat, surpassing even the Pontiff. He hadn't earned an extraordinary accolade like “the greatest in history” for nothing.

“Hey, you layabout.”

The mere sight of the Pontiff casually waving hello with someone like that in tow was enough to bring him out in a cold sweat.

“Remember the promise you made last time?”

“...”

“You said you'd help if my country ran into trouble, didn't you?”

“... I did, yes.”

“Time to pack.”

“...”

“You're coming with me tomorrow, all right?”

Especially when this was where the conversation went.

This woman needed to learn how to consider other people's circumstances.

A ruler knows nothing of the human heart...

Clutching his throbbing temples, Aiden addressed the Pontiff.

“... I'll go, Your Holiness. But surely you could at least give me some time to prepare?”

“We don't have that luxury.”

Still smiling, she folded her arms and replied.

“I'm stepping down as Pontiff soon. You know that?”

Well, yes.

That was why there would be a contest for the succession. She was stating the obvious.

When he gave her a look to that effect, Abigail III chuckled and continued.

“Anyone who misses my abdication ceremony won't qualify to compete in the succession contest.”

“... I see.”

That rule was news to him. But what did it have to do with him right now?

“That's why you need to come.”

“Pardon?”

“So you can take part in the contest too.”

“...”

Aiden blinked blankly.

▣

“... What are you talking about?”

Aiden's voice was incredulous.

No, he was beyond incredulous. He was starting to wonder if she had actually gone senile.

Yes, he had made the Pontiff a promise before. He had said he would lend his assistance if trouble arose over the Holy Kingdom's succession.

But he had only meant helping the contest end the way she wanted it to. He hadn't meant entering it himself.

“... Your Holiness. Do you even understand what it means to formally include me in the succession?”

“What do you take me for, some old woman with dementia?”

“If I win, I'll become the Pontiff of the Holy Kingdom.”

“You deserve an award for getting that far ahead of yourself. Did someone promise you victory?”

“No, Your Holiness...”

That wasn't the issue. His involvement in itself was the problem.

Would even a single person in the Holy Kingdom accept his participation? That was the issue.

“Anyone who can wield divinity can be recognized as Holy Kingdom royalty. And once they're recognized, they can compete in the succession contest. Am I wrong?”

... Technically, she was right. Technically.

“I have no support base there, or anything else. I'm not even a citizen of the Holy Kingdom.”

“That's not your concern.”

Resting her chin on her hand, the Pontiff curled her lips into her usual fierce grin.

“Your promise. Are you going to break it?”

In a situation like this, that smile looked like a predator's, certain it had its prey.

“...”

Aiden's face twisted into the deepest scowl he could muster.

'... This woman is at it again...'

She was plotting something.

It went without saying that however reckless a country's ruler might appear, they were invariably cunning to the core.

If she was suddenly springing a proposal like this on him, there was clearly something she wanted to accomplish through him.

And considering that she had explained neither her intentions nor her goal, merely thrusting this proposal at him and demanding compliance, her plan didn't seem respectable enough to share openly.

Clearly, Aiden wasn't the only one who felt that way.

“... Your Holiness.”

Katya, who had been sitting silently with them until now, spoke up.

Her voice was polite and subdued. The exact opposite of her usual exuberance and headstrong approach to everything.

And precisely because of that, everyone present had an instinctive sense of where this was going.

“Wait, Your Highness—”

Alarmed, Aiden tried to stop her.

But events moved faster than his words.

“I told you before—”

Katya's hands moved with terrifying speed.

Hand seals. The fundamental movements of the Flourishing Flame Arts, a combat discipline for wielding divinity.

This woman was about to pick a fight with the Pontiff without a moment's hesitation!

“—not to touch my friend, didn't I?”

The next instant, sparks flew in every direction.

▣

He had experienced it several times before, but battles between the highest-ranking superhumans were difficult for Aiden even to follow.

His earlier encounter with the fight between the Lord Protector and Noel was a case in point. He had struggled to track the moves they exchanged even with his eyes.

Still, all the effort he had steadily put into leveling his Combat Styles clearly hadn't been wasted. He could now at least follow how these people were fighting. That was an enormous improvement.

But there were things that made even less sense now that he could see them.

... How was fighting at this level even possible?

'What the hell?!'

Both Katya, who had casually launched the first surprise attack, and the Pontiff, who countered it without moving from her spot or changing her expression, carried on as though this were perfectly natural.

Yet in stark contrast to that outwardly peaceful atmosphere, the exchanges flashing between them in that brief interval were a ferocious battle waged in fractions of a second.

—!

—!!

They traded attacks and defenses dozens of times a second. Flames erupted throughout the once-peaceful headquarters like explosions.

Even as they exchanged blows in those fleeting instants, they continued making strategic and tactical maneuvers. It was absurd.

-System Message

▶ You are witnessing an exchange of exceptionally high-level moves.

▶ The effect of 'Skill: Analysis' activates.

▶ Combat Styles proficiency increases!

... Just how advanced was this fight, for it to raise his Combat Styles level even further when Meyer already put him through hell every night?

Should he thank them for the spectacle?

But however incredible the level of their battle, one of them was bound to come out on top.

From the way Katya's face was twisting more and more, it seemed clear who had the upper hand.

“Honestly, girl. What a temper.”

The Pontiff folded her arms and grinned.

“I'm only borrowing him. I'll put him to good use and give him back, all right?”

“... You won't give him back...!”

Grinding her teeth, Katya shouted in fury.

“You use everything however you like...! And throw it away...! You see everyone but yourself as a toy...!”

Aiden stared at her in surprise.

There was no mistaking it.

These were deeply festering negative emotions, the likes of which even he had never heard from her before.

Fundamentally, Katya had little interest in other people. She lived her entire life according to whatever amused her.

Discard the boring things. Keep the interesting ones close.

Had someone like her ever displayed such naked hatred toward another person?

'... This is...'

Something he hadn't known about either.

At least as far as he remembered, this dynamic hadn't existed in the original game's setting.

'Originally...'

The two of them had an utterly detached relationship.

They had been completely indifferent to one another.

There shouldn't have been any exchanges of such human emotion between them at all.

The Pontiff's response was just as far removed from that portrayal.

“Get your facts straight, Katya.”

Her pupils stretched into long horizontal slits.

“Not toys. Cogs. Everything I do is to sustain the Holy Kingdom.”

“Toys or cogs, Your Holiness...”

A stern voice cut in between them.

At some point, Noel had sprung to her feet.

“We are inside the capital's headquarters. Stop this.”

The Pontiff looked Noel up and down and let out another amused huff.

'This one's eyes say she means it.'

If anything else rubbed her the wrong way, she looked ready to throw herself into a fight to the death, Pontiff or not.

Perhaps a certain madman from somewhere or other had been influencing her lately.

“My daughter started it, you know.”

“You were the one who started scheming against Aiden, Your Holiness.”

Sword drawn, Noel delivered those words as she looked down at the Pontiff with an icy gaze.

Her stance made her intentions clear: if this disturbance went any further, she wouldn't hesitate to attack even the Pontiff.

The strange thing was that despite how far things had escalated, the Perfected One behind the Pontiff was merely standing there, doing nothing.

And it was clear that he wasn't doing so because he didn't know what to do.

The Pontiff's next words made that obvious.

“Magnus.”

“Yes, Your Holiness.”

The paladin, who had stood like a mountain silently listening to the conversation until now, answered calmly.

Then the Pontiff grinned.

“You have my permission. Go have some fun.”

“How far may I go?”

“Just don't wreck the whole place. One wrong move and we'll have a war.”

Magnus nodded and slowly straightened. Such terrifying pressure radiated from him that Noel, her sword still pointed at the Pontiff, involuntarily narrowed her eyes to track his movement.

“Ah.”

The Perfected One spoke in a drawl.

“Finally.”

A greatsword flashed out from behind his neck like lightning and swept through the air in a brilliant arc.

Then the ground shattered.