It had been nearly ten years since Felix last left Laterano. Returning this time, he looked at the familiar yet strangely distant scenery. The trees lining the road, the white walls and pale rooftops that defined Laterano’s architecture, all of it stirred memories both clear and hazy.

Felix stood there for a long time, gazing into the distance.

Only when three figures appeared on the road ahead did he shift his attention.

The three were Cardinal Ers of the Papal Court, who had been overseeing matters here for several months, the young Cardinal Velliv who handled communications between Laterano and Kazdel, and an executor from the Notarial Hall.

The executor had short, cream-colored hair. His name was Federico.

Behind them stood four Papal Knights.

Each knight wore metallic technological armor and carried a massive firearm. Their imposing presence made them look like towering machines of war.

Following the knights were ten Laterano guardsmen armed with weapons. They formed two squads of five, composed of members from both the Sankta and Liberi races.

Felix’s mind quickly analyzed the situation.

This kind of reception represented the most formal diplomatic protocol. At the same time, he could not help frowning slightly. From the beginning, he had felt that holding an international conference in Laterano was not necessarily a good move for the city’s influence.

Laterano could accept people of nearly any race, but it did not accept Sarkaz.

Sarkaz were forbidden from entering the Holy City of Laterano.

This rule was not written into law, but it had become an unspoken agreement upheld by generations of popes.

During his time studying in the Lich clan’s ancient library, Felix had uncovered many details about Laterano’s past. Among them were records of the Laterano government strictly prohibiting research into the relationship between the Sankta and the Sarkaz, all to conceal the truth that the Sankta themselves once shared the same origin.

The appearance of the First Saint had been deliberately erased from historical records. Anyone who attempted to trace the true origins of the Sankta risked brutal retaliation from the Laterano government and its military.

There was even an incident involving a Victorian archaeological team. They had uncovered a statue believed to depict the First Saint, one that still retained obvious Sarkaz features. The team’s informant reported the discovery to higher authorities. In response, Laterano agents were dispatched, and the entire archaeological site was destroyed with explosives, burying both the cave and the entire team within it.

It could be said that the Sankta authorities had used every possible method to ensure the public would never learn that the Sankta and Sarkaz shared the same origin. After all, the First Saint of the Sankta looked exactly like a fallen angel.

Many elders among both the Sankta and the Sarkaz held similar views about this history.

To them, the Sankta were nothing more than rebels. They had betrayed the Sarkaz in the past, and now they stood upon moral high ground to condemn them. Was that not the very definition of betraying one’s origins?

At least, the King of Nachzehrers had never concealed his ridicule and contempt for the Sankta when speaking with Felix.

Felix stepped forward. Mostima stood on his left, Theresa on his right.

“Your Highness, welcome back to Laterano.”

Ers carefully looked over the young man he had not seen for nearly a decade.

In those ten years, neither of them had changed much in appearance. Yet Ers could clearly sense that Felix himself had changed.

The youthful innocence that once lingered between his brows had vanished. In its place was a quiet confidence and a presence that carried authority with every gesture. Yet at first glance, he still looked like an ordinary Terran.

That was, of course, if one ignored the horns growing from his head and the tail behind him.

“As the leader of Kazdel, I am honored that Laterano has invited us to participate in this conference as members of the Summit of Nations,” Felix said with a smile. “Regardless of the rights and wrongs of history, the people of Terra should stand together to face the challenges of the future.”

Ers studied Felix for a moment before giving a slight nod.

The two men exchanged a brief glance of understanding.

Since neither side brought up sensitive matters such as the true origin of the Sankta, which could easily shake Laterano’s authority if revealed, the conversation immediately became far easier.

Laterano remained Laterano. Kazdel remained Kazdel.

Each would walk its own path.

As long as both sides maintained the outward courtesy expected between major powers, that would be enough.

That was Ers’s thinking.

After all, half a month earlier the cardinals had received Victoria’s postwar report, along with estimates of the property losses. The results had shocked nearly all of them.

Even the cardinals who had always loudly demanded that Laterano demonstrate its orthodoxy and destroy Kazdel fell silent.

They could hardly believe that the Sarkaz mercenaries they once regarded as little more than monkeys had suddenly become so powerful. The destructive capability of their warships had even breached the walls of Londinium.

Laterano was not without powerful weapons of its own, including technology comparable to warships. However, throughout most of its history, Laterano had maintained peaceful relations with nearly every faction except Kazdel. Because of this, its weapons development had gradually become unbalanced.

Recently the cardinals had begun accelerating research and construction of warships. Whether their future numbers could surpass Kazdel’s existing fleet remained uncertain.

When the cardinals realized that much of this transformation centered around Felix, a strange sense of familiarity surfaced among them.

Wait.

Hadn’t there been someone named Cliff a hundred years ago?

And another named Agenir?

Thinking of those two figures, some cardinals felt reassured, while others grew increasingly uneasy. The departure of those men had not harmed Laterano’s actual interests. One had gone far away to Columbia to run his mercenary company, which had recently been heavily squeezed by Tomorrow’s Development. The other had settled in Siracusa to manage his order. Not long ago, there were even reports that Tomorrow’s Development had become involved in the construction of Siracusa’s new city.

Wait. Why are you so exceptional, Felix? If this continues, where exactly does your loyalty lie?

The cardinals longed to sit down with Felix for afternoon tea, to speak with him openly and ask whether he truly desired peace.

The strength Kazdel had displayed was terrifying. If the cardinals had previously believed that Felix’s diplomatic visits to other nations were an attempt to expand Kazdel’s influence on the political front, then the war in Victoria had pushed the military aspect to its absolute extreme.

Not to mention the Diablo mentioned in the report. He had defeated the King of Nachzehrers, slain Prince of Blood Duq’arael, and even overcome Theresis.

What kind of monster was that?

The cardinals were stunned. If Kazdel as a whole had already grown powerful across Terra, that would have been one thing. But when had Felix himself gained such overwhelming strength?

In Terra’s ancient past, kingship had been determined by strength. It was a chaotic age, and it was only natural for the strongest to rule. Later, systems based on bloodlines and racial inheritance emerged. Eventually, those systems gave way to republican or democratic governance.

In modern Terra, very few rulers possessed the greatest strength within their own nations. Looking around the world, neither Yan nor Siracusa fit that description. Even the Emperor of Yan or the rulers of Siracusa did not possess such terrifying personal power.

Yet Felix clearly did.

Worse still, this was not power he had possessed from the beginning. Through Mostima, Ers had learned fragments of Felix’s situation. The transformation had occurred only within the last few months.

It seemed that Felix had discovered something, perhaps some crucial clue that awakened the power within his bloodline.

Ers was no fool. He could clearly tell that Felix’s current state was not that of a Fallen Sankta. It was something else entirely, a race known as the Teekaz.

But what puzzled him most was something stranger.

Through the Sankta’s natural empathy, Ers could sense Felix’s emotional state. Yet the tranquility he felt from Felix remained unchanged, even though the other man’s race had transformed into something completely different.

How could that possibly be explained?

Ers found himself completely confused.

He quickly composed himself, then bowed solemnly.

“Your Highness, King of Liberation. This way, please.”

Felix nodded slightly.

“What procedures are required to enter the Holy City this time?”

Ers paused for a moment and glanced to the side.

“All participants in the Summit of Nations are considered honored guests invited by Laterano. During this special period, the usual restrictions are suspended.”

“I understand. Please continue.”

At that moment, Felix’s gaze shifted to Velliv, who stood nearby trying her best to make herself less noticeable. As always, she preferred to avoid trouble.

As for Federico, nearly ten years had passed since they last met, just like with Ers.

Ers also noticed Theresa, who stood quietly observing her surroundings with polite curiosity. He knew her identity as the former Sarkaz King, but he had nothing to say to her. His responsibility was simply to guide Felix. The people accompanying him were not individuals Ers was meant to entertain.

After a brief rest, the group resumed their journey.

About twenty minutes later, a white city wall gradually came into view. Beyond the wall stood rows of pristine white buildings, and faintly, the sound of church bells drifted through the evening air.

Night had fallen, and warm orange lights illuminated the Holy City.

Felix gazed at the distant skyline, his heart filled with mixed emotions. Yet he did not feel the warmth of returning home.

Perhaps he had never stayed in Laterano long enough.

He had once regarded the city as a temporary place to live, but never truly as home. Deep down, he had always known he would not remain there forever.

During the Summit of Nations, the villages surrounding Laterano were lively and crowded. Many visitors had come simply to witness the event, while merchants who heard the news arrived hoping to sell their goods.

Ers led Felix and his group to the gates of the Holy City.

Twenty towering Papal Knights stood on both sides of the entrance, silently welcoming the king who had come to participate in the conference.

Despite the presence of Sarkaz within the delegation, the knights did not move. Their stillness made it clear that they had no intention of doing anything that might damage Laterano’s reputation during the conference.

Even so, the Sarkaz in the group murmured quietly among themselves. Their expressions were serious. They knew very well that this opportunity had been granted by their king. They could not afford to bring him any disgrace.

The streets of Laterano were unusually quiet at night, as though the area had been cleared in advance. Along the roadside, Felix could see staff from the Notarial Hall maintaining order while escorting groups of citizens farther away.

So that was it.

It seemed Laterano wanted to prevent panic by keeping the reality of Sarkaz entering the Holy City from spreading too widely.

Eventually, the group arrived at their hotel.

The building had been provided by the Papal Court of Laterano specifically for the Kazdel delegation.

In other words, the entire place had been reserved exclusively for them.

“The conference will begin in two weeks, Your Highness. Please be patient,” Ers said to Felix. He continued, “Laterano welcomes you, and we hope both sides can achieve satisfactory results during this Summit of Nations.”

Felix nodded.

Ers let out a quiet sigh of relief, then cast a glance toward Velliv and Federico, who were standing nearby. Velliv immediately understood the signal. Just as she was about to leave, she noticed Federico still standing there, apparently trying to decipher the meaning behind Ers’s look. With a faint sigh, she stepped forward and quietly led Federico away.

Once they were alone, the rigid tone in Ers’s voice gradually faded.

“The Pope has been waiting for Your Highness’s arrival.”

“He wants to see me?”

“Yes. However, it’s already quite late. Your Highness should rest first,” Ers said calmly. “Your residence here still remains the same. When you have time, please go home and visit.”

“Alright.”

Ers smiled, then left with the remaining staff. Their overtime duty was finally over. Now it was time for them to relax and enjoy a glass of mead.

The staff assigned to this hotel were all Sankta who had been informed of the situation beforehand.

Even so, it was remarkable that they had managed to remain so composed after seeing so many Sarkaz.

Soon, the tired companions returned to their rooms to rest. Tomorrow, they planned to quietly explore the legendary Holy City and see what life in Laterano was truly like.

Felix placed a fedora hat on his head and glanced at Mostima.

She smiled at him.

“Let’s go home.”

“Alright.”

The two of them slipped out quietly without disturbing anyone.

Not long after they left, Ines knocked on Felix’s door. She had originally intended to discuss the next day’s activity arrangements with him. After knocking several times without receiving any response, Ines paused and thought for a moment.

Then she concluded that His Highness had already slipped out.

Felix’s senses were extremely sharp. No matter how deeply he slept, if someone approached his door, he would awaken almost immediately and respond.

Walking along a street that felt both familiar and unfamiliar, Felix glanced at the scenery on both sides.

The café at the corner of the street was still open. The owner looked much the same as before, though there were a few unfamiliar faces working inside.

Felix had never lived in a grand residence in Laterano. In the past, nearly all of his money had been spent on manufacturing firearms. Now he was the king of a nation and wealthier than most countries, yet he had long grown accustomed to the modest bedroom aboard the Venus and to a simple way of living.

When he pushed open the door, a faint scent greeted him.

It carried traces of Mostima and Lemuen.

Clearly, the two of them had come by regularly to clean the place during his absence.

“There’s still some time before bed,” Felix said. “Let’s go get some dessert.”

“Sounds good.”

Felix took Mostima’s hand, and the two of them walked toward the café like an ordinary couple enjoying a quiet evening.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep