It was an uninvited large-scale military force.
Although their very existence could be considered disrespectful, the Holy Knights of the Elpenheim Church still observed proper etiquette.
They were waiting politely outside the capital, not at the front gates of the royal castle, ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) for the city gates to be opened.
Had they suddenly teleported directly to the center of Peronsa, such an act would have been immediately understood as an act of war.
This was the Hispenril Duchy, where the Holy Kingdom and the king stood firm.
Directly provoking such a nation into military conflict was, from anyone's perspective, a foolish act.
Thus, the Holy Knights of the Elpenheim Church's display of etiquette could be seen as calculated courtesy.
Of course, the church itself did not acknowledge it.
“We also have a Master of the Holy Sword and an Eighth-tier Saint at Elpenheim,” said a young man in his mid-thirties, with blonde hair and a belligerent tone. “I firmly believe that we are not inferior in strength to Hispenril.”
This was Magram Werricks, the leader of the Holy Knights of the Church, who had previously arrested Tesilid on charges of heresy.
Belonging to the Inquisitorial faction of the Church, Magram was known for his zealous fanaticism.
The knights under him shared this same fervor. It was this degree of fanaticism that allowed them to obey the insane order to eliminate the Holy Kingdom, with its overwhelming military power, without question.
The Holy Office had certainly paid attention to their selection.
Thus, Magram, thinking that everyone shared his views, eagerly chattered away.
He truly detested the Hispenril Duchy, which had locked the gates in defiance of their arrival to judge the heretics in the name of the divine will.
“Two Eighth-tier experts, one of them a Saint, are more than capable of overcoming a mere heretic. We could break through the gates right now, but Hispenril should be thankful that we are showing them such courtesy,” Magram continued.
“Sir Magram.”
Of course, not all members of the Church were as abnormal as Magram.
A sturdy young man with black-brown sports hair interrupted his words. It was Rex, the leader of the Grace Knights.
He carefully selected his words, ensuring they didn’t conflict with the atmosphere of the church.
“Comparing the military strength of Hispenril's king and Tesilid Arzent, the Holy Sword’s master, is fine. But even so, don’t you think the gap between them and the Holy Kingdom, and Muriel, is considerable? And above all...”
“...”
“Muriel is not here with us, is she?”
That was correct. Muriel Filize was absent from the scene where Ayleth Rodeline was to be dealt with.
Officially, it was said she had to spend ten days in prayer, receiving divine revelations.
In reality, however, she was traveling to the holy site on Mount Elteo to recover from the injuries she sustained during the previous Black Sword incident.
Rex’s point was so simple, even a child could grasp it. However, Magram was irate.
“How dare you talk about the gap! How dare you speak so carelessly about the Saint? And calling it the Holy Kingdom... Don’t address them like that! They are heretics, targets for extermination!”
“...”
Instead of countering his arguments, Magram simply kept nitpicking. Every time he spoke, his dignity seemed to deteriorate.
“Ha, really. I’m starting to doubt your faith, Sir Rex. Should I report this careless remark to the Cardinal Assembly?”
“... Please be careful.”
“Very well. I’ll let it slide this time.”
“...Yes.”
“Anyway, if the Saint were here, we’d be able to fight easily. Hispenril should quickly open the gates of Peronsa and respond to the courtesy we’ve shown them.”
Despite his fervent speech, Rex showed no sign of agreeing.
With a disapproving click of his tongue, Magram tried to provoke another reaction from someone else.
The person he targeted was none other than...
“Wouldn’t you agree, Sir Tesilid Arzent?”
Tesilid Arzent, the owner of the Holy Sword, chosen by “Strict Order and Purity.”
“Yes, that’s true.”
A dry, almost fragile voice answered as if it would crumble into the air.
The silver-haired handsome man had been standing at the front of the group, motionless, staring at the gates.
His face was devoid of expression, beyond simply being blank—it seemed almost inanimate.
Because of this, those around him couldn’t discern any emotions or thoughts from him at all.
“Sir Tesilid...”
Rex’s gaze grew anxious.
How must the man, who had been given the order to execute his lover, feel in this moment?
Perhaps he hoped the solid iron gates would never open, that time would stretch on forever, and that he could simply wither away here, decaying with the autumn leaves.
Another dry leaf fell at Tesilid’s feet.
It rolled pitifully in the wind, but the sea-colored eyes remained fixed, focused only on the front.
Tesilid Arzent stood at the heart of this mission to eradicate heresy. He was also the Supreme Commander of five Holy Knight Orders.
It was only natural that humans would want to get close to such a noble, powerful, and beautiful figure.
“Ahem, ahem.”
Just as Magram was about to catch Tesilid’s attention, a change occurred.
The guards at the gate shouted as they received some message.
“His Holiness has granted permission for the Elpenheim Holy Knights to enter!”
Boom!
The heavy gates, which had been tightly closed, began to slowly open. The Holy Knights, who had been waiting, were taken aback.
They too had an inkling that they had come with an improper purpose.
However, they had never imagined that Hispenril would open the gates so swiftly. It was unexpected.
Had Ayleth Rodeline given up and decided to face her judgment?
Or could this be a trap?
Would there be a battle if they entered the gates?
Would they have any chance of victory against the Holy Kingdom?
As the massive gates creaked open, the Holy Knights swallowed nervously.
Just then, someone eagerly spoke up, hoping to discuss their strategy.
“Sir Tesilid, I’ve been thinking carefully...”
“...”
Tesilid only rolled his sea-colored eyes, offering a glance to Magram.
“I’ve heard that the heretic had a special relationship with Sir Tesilid. Shouldn’t that mean she would be less hostile to you?”
“...”
“As you know, we have the heretic and the King of Hispenril on their side, but we don’t have Muriel here, so we are somewhat at a disadvantage. I believe we need to strategically overcome this imbalance.”
Tesilid remained silent, continuing to gaze at Magram.
Misinterpreting his silence as agreement, the fanatic began speaking again.
“Let’s have Sir Tesilid approach the heretic and lull her into a false sense of security, then send the signal for battle, known only to us.”
“...”
“You know, there’s a passage in the Bible about this. It’s the story of how a good believer betrayed a notorious sinner. The betrayer kissed the sinner on the cheek, tricking him into a state of complacency, while also signaling to the soldiers.”
For reference, the sinner was a persecuted saint, and the betrayer was an apostate.
Magram clearly hadn’t read the Bible properly.
Amid the shock of the others, Magram sternly continued.
“Sir Tesilid, you can handle it well. Please send the signal.”
“...”
Boom!
The gates opened fully, and the city of merchants and artisans greeted them with open arms.
As Tesilid took the lead and stepped forward, the Holy Knights followed behind, keeping a slight distance.
The synchronized march of the numerous soldiers reverberated through the air, like a chorus of footsteps shaking the earth.
It was a threatening march, especially for uninvited guests.
The citizens living on the outskirts of the city watched with a mix of disgust and fear as the Holy Knights approached.
At the end of the paved stone road, the square loomed ahead.
Once they emerged into the vast open space, Tesilid, who had been walking at the front, suddenly stopped.
In the center of the square, in front of a fountain, stood a woman with pink hair.
His Holy Kingdom.
Ayleth Rodeline.
“...”
Tesilid’s chest stopped rising and falling.
He stood as still as if his bodily functions had ceased, taking in her image.
She stood against the backdrop of droplets refracting light, wearing a white uniform he had never seen before.
Of course, her appearance mattered little to him.
It felt like a dream, waking up to face her eyes, staring directly at him.
He stared at her for a long time, mesmerized, before snapping back to reality. Tesilid raised his right hand to shoulder height.
It was a signal for the Holy Knights to stay in place.
A reasonable order.
Although the knights of Hispenril and the Silver Fortress Knights stood in formation in the square, they maintained a significant distance from her.
She was waiting alone.
For him.
As a result, Tesilid decided to separate himself from the group.
“I’ll approach alone.”
“Yes, yes, Sir Tesilid. Just don’t forget the signal! Don’t forget to send the signal!”
Without responding to Magram’s scheming whisper, he set foot forward.
With every step, the distance between him and her shortened.
Her long-missed image grew sharper in his vision.
The face with flushed cheeks and lips, gazing at him with emerald eyes, overwhelmed him.
But then, he felt the tension from the knights of Hispenril behind him.
Now that they were enemies, they would likely interpret his approach as a threat.
Would she feel the same way?
With a bit of sadness, Tesilid decided to hold back his desires.
And so, his steps came to a halt.
“...”
“...”
Five steps apart, their eyes met. It had been roughly two weeks since their last encounter.
The atmosphere between them felt as though it could only exist between the two of them, but it didn’t last long.
Behind Tesilid, the spectators were eagerly waiting for the clown to perform his tricks.
Tesilid spoke first.
