Chapter 105

Sheffy slammed the coin onto the Holy Sword’s slot on the bedside cabinet in frustration, making the Little Holy Sword shine even brighter with the addition of a white gold coin.

“Ugh ugh… Mom is still Mom, she even gave me money to spend!”

Since Sheffy had decided so, Xiarette had no choice but to accompany her and stir up another storm, huh?

But… some words of caution definitely still needed to be said.

“Alright, but let’s be clear first. Sheffy, don’t get too carried away. Always leave some room for restraint in everything.”

“What do you mean? Xiarette, you’re clearly a human—why aren’t you speaking Human?”

“That’s real nice of you to say… sigh. What I mean is, the contestants in the arena aren’t top-tier fighters. If you go too hard and cripple someone, that’d be bad. They’ve come all this way to compete, not easy at all.”

“It’s fine, I won’t kill them!”

“Not killing… but don’t cripple them either—”

“I really won’t kill them!”

“…”

It was over. That eager look on Sheffy’s face clearly showed she’d been holding back for a long time and was dying to show off her full strength!

Of course, not long after, Sheffy leaned back on the bed with her hands supporting her, her silver hair cascading like a waterfall, and her small feet stretched forward, pressing against Xiarette’s back, her earlier playful grin now tucked away.

“Relax, relax~ I was just joking. I’ve no reason to make trouble for myself. This time, I’ve already spoken with Livra—we’re temporarily working together to push forward the relationship between humans and demons. If I go up there and cripple a human, I bet the whole crowd will shout that I should be locked back up! Sob sob… if that happens, I’ll be sealed back into this warm bed! Sob sob… I’m just too pitiful.”

Brilliant.

People always said ‘caught between a rock and a hard place.’

But Sheffy—no matter how she played it, she was bound to end up with a win. This was more like getting the best of both worlds, wasn’t it?

Xiarette gave a wry smile and turned around. Sheffy’s toes naturally shifted from her back to rest against her slim stomach.

Xiarette reached out, gently brushing aside the golden hair that had fallen onto the bed, then patted Sheffy’s clever little head.

“Of course, you don’t have to hold back completely this time either. Just go a little easy. The arena’s defensive barrier for this match isn’t as fragile as last time. I heard from Princess Livra that, to ensure the safety of the King and the Pope, the Kingdom is going to use the secret treasure—the 【Divine Thread Chain】—to construct the strongest defensive barrier. It can even withstand tenth-rank magic.”

“Ohh~ So does that mean I can test out my newly developed 【Supernova Explosion】?!”

“That spell sounds incredibly dangerous just by the name! Rejected! No experimenting randomly!”

“Tch, then I’ll just use 【Little Fireball】.”

“…”

You’re really something—if you can’t use Supernova Explosion, you go straight to Little Fireball?

Well, Little Fireball is probably safer…

Who knows what would happen if Sheffy used a Big Fireball.

Xiarette handed the tea she had just brewed for herself to Sheffy first, dotingly letting her take a sip. Then, without drinking any herself, she placed her cup back on the bedside cabinet and continued analyzing.

“Oh right, besides the sturdier protective barrier, don’t you also have someone this time who can actually exchange a few moves with you? Mm… just a few moves.”

“I know! The Fire Cat Clan! If they show up, I have to beat them into submission and get them to spill their secret fishing technique!”

“It’s not the Fire Cats! Isn’t there also Timani—the one from the Fire Dragon Clan we met before?”

“Oh right, that fire lizard. I’d almost forgotten if you hadn’t mentioned it… wonder if she’s still begging for food these days.”

“Miss Timani… I apologize on Sheffy’s behalf in advance.”

First, I apologize that she’s once again saying you’re begging for food.

Second, the prize money you’ve been chasing so hard—yeah, that might be in danger again.

Poor Timani. So strong, yet always running into the weirdest opponents in the arena.

And this time? Oh great, the barrier is stronger all right.

Hilarious—this time, it’s a Demon Clan Princess. With eight wings.

“Mmhmhm~” Sheffy hummed a little tune, clearly looking forward to it. “Nice, nice. Hope that fire lizard can entertain me a little~ I finally get to go out and stretch my legs, can’t be a waste, right?”

“Try not to go overboard, at least don’t—”

“And me! I’ll help Lady Sheffy have fun too!”

Before Xiarette could finish, the Little Holy Sword flashed with golden light and leapt onto Sheffy’s thigh.

Two lolis stacked on top of each other was quite the sight, but Xiarette had no desire to look!

But Sylatrella’s innocent smile always put people at ease. There was no trace of desire, only endless purity—she was just a naïve, kind-hearted child, nothing more.

“I also understand the schedule for the tournament. The champion from the last competition can directly and unconditionally enter this one. Last time’s champion was Lady Sheffy’s little sister, but she flew away. I was the runner-up, so I can take the champion’s place.”

“Ohh…! You’re right, Sylatrella! You better give it your all and meet me in the finals!”

“Mm mm! I’ll definitely try my best! When I reach the finals, Lady Sheffy can beat me up as much as she wants! However you want to hit me, just go ahead! The harder the beating… slurp… the harder the beating, the happier I’ll be!”

She gave Sheffy a brilliant smile.

The Little Holy Sword’s “a thousand-year-old’s childish nonsense” was still very pure—if you ignored the tiny hearts that had suddenly appeared in her eyes.

Sheffy shook her leg, her expression cold as she shook this pervert off her thigh and onto the bed, then jabbed her forehead repeatedly to tell her to behave and stop being such a degenerate—it was polluting her ears.

Xiarette held her forehead and sighed, utterly speechless at the daily antics of these two little ones.

It felt like everyone’s mindset was gradually shifting toward playfulness now.

Only Princess Livra was still on edge, trembling with fear—truly a pitiful soul.

But Xiarette knew the truth.

Though Sheffy acted this way, there was no way she’d forgotten the fundamental purpose of this arena match—to probe the Pope’s intentions.

Whether the tournament went smoothly or not, Xiarette only needed to do what she was meant to do.

She held a strand of silver hair in her hands, brought it up to her face, and gently sniffed the faint floral scent it carried.

All Xiarette wanted—was simply to protect her.

Mm… Sheffy could play to her heart’s content.

As for the troublesome matters, leave those to her big sister.

But just as Xiarette absentmindedly let go of Sheffy’s hair, she froze.

Because Sheffy and Sylatrella… had stopped bickering—and were both looking at her with eyes full of disbelief!

“Mm… I didn’t expect it, but sometimes you can be a bit of a pervert too, Xiarette. No… actually, I kind of already knew.”

“As expected of you, Hero. You easily did something I wouldn’t dare to.”

Hearing that, Xiarette’s face instantly turned crimson red!

She flailed her arms wildly, trying to explain in a panic!

“N-no… that’s not it! I was just thinking deeply, and happened to touch Sheffy’s hair, so I wanted to smell it… no wait, I don’t mean it like that! I mean… it was just by chance! So…”

“Pervert Sister Xiarette…”

“So I said—it’s not like that!!”

…………………………………………

Dusk faded, and night cloaked the land.

In the distant Holy Theocracy of Coreia.

The Holy See stood solemn and austere, with divine statues lining the halls.

After receiving permission from the clergy dressed in ceremonial robes, the Kingdom of Aurus’s Prime Minister Firex, who had journeyed a great distance, rushed forward in haste.

He hadn’t had time to change out of his Aurus-style attire, but he had not forgotten to pull out the silver crescent ring pendant hidden beneath his collar, letting it hang before his chest to display his Coreian noble status and pious devotion as a follower of the divine.

Whether truly devout or not, in the Holy Theocracy of Coreia, anyone with power or status typically wore such a silver crescent ring.

Kingdom clothes paired with the Theocracy’s emblem made Firex look very much like a traitor.

But that was far from the truth.

After all, Firex was originally from the Holy Theocracy of Coreia.

He had already been waiting inside the Holy See for quite some time.

With his hands behind his back, Firex anxiously paced in circles. Finally, with a grumble and a glare, he lost patience and snapped at the nun sitting on the church pew, bathed in multicolored light filtering through stained glass as she read from a scripture.

“Where exactly is His Holiness the Pope? I have important matters to report! I’ve been waiting here for half the day! This concerns the interests of the Theocracy—can’t you people be more efficient with your announcements?!”

“Lord Firex, please be patient… The divine listens from above the church—please mind your words.”

“Tch.”

Firex, who had recently gotten a front tooth replaced, clicked his tongue, smoothed his beard, and turned back in anger, shooting a scornful glare at the nun.

Though born in the Holy Theocracy, Firex sometimes found many of its people overly pious and eerie, speaking in ways that felt off, like they couldn’t just talk like normal people.

Just as Firex was about to go find someone else to help relay his message to the Pope…

Suddenly.

The sound of a scepter striking the ground echoed through the church like a droplet of water falling—clear and resonant.

Despite the vast, spacious interior, the sound of footsteps and the tapping of the scepter was remarkably loud—as though the sound wasn’t carried through air, but transmitted directly by the divine above, delivering their message to the hearts of all present.

The nun, who had been seated calmly, closed her scripture and stood.

She respectfully lowered her head toward the source of the sound, her expression adorned with devout faith, the dangling silver crescent ring glinting in the light.

Even the men in purple clerical robes standing at the entrance of the Holy See placed one hand over their chest and bowed in the same direction.

Naturally, Firex did the same.

In fact, he bowed even more deeply.

As a high-ranking noble of the Holy Theocracy of Coreia, he knew exactly what kind of demeanor was expected in the presence of the Pope.

At that very moment—

A slightly aged yet strong and steady voice echoed, approaching from afar.

“The god of wind, Herles, once brought the gospel to the Theocracy, guiding the people through the darkness.”

“May all who have lost their way receive the Theocracy’s protection upon their return.”

“Firex, this return of yours—what message you bring to the Theocracy, I already know. Do not let your impatience disturb the peace.”

22. Voice

Gustana VII—that was how the world knew the Pope’s name.

Gustana, in the Holy Theocracy of Coreia, was the embodiment of supreme divine authority. It did not belong to any particular family. According to legend, it was a name bestowed by the gods upon their earthly representative, a mortal executor of divine power.

The Pope bore no personal name, only the inherited title of “Gustana.”

From Gustana I, who founded the Theocracy with divine authority, to the present Gustana VII, each had ruled with the holy mandate, gathering followers and leading the great nation.

Firex did not dare raise his head.

He kept it bowed, straining to glance upward with the corners of his eyes to glimpse the golden glow of the Papal Crown, listening as the steady tapping of the scepter drew closer.

Until the sound ceased.

According to doctrine, Firex silently counted ten seconds in his mind before daring to look up at the divine authority.

A robe as deep as the blackest night, a dazzlingly white neck scarf, and a mantle that draped over his shoulders like sheets of golden foil.

All these regal symbols rested upon the shoulders of a silver-haired old man with an extraordinary presence—so much so that the impression of age was completely overshadowed. Firex felt as though he were not facing a living being, but a solemn, ancient bell tower, echoing through time, radiating majesty and sacred gravity.

Gustana VII was already over eighty years old. His tall frame showed no sign of stoop or hunch, his face unblemished by stubble, the wrinkles upon it serving only to frame his serene, deep aquamarine eyes—still and profound like calm water.

He said nothing, simply raised his scepter and traced a horizontal line in the air.

The purple-robed bishops standing at the entrance, and the nuns and monks devoutly reciting scriptures inside the Holy See, immediately rose. After bowing in salute to the Pope, they left the hall, eyes filled with bliss.

To read the scriptures in the Holy See in the presence of His Holiness was an honor for any believer of the Theocracy. And His Holiness, ever kind and humble, often visited the Holy See early in the morning to guide and enlighten followers of all classes—noble or common.

The people departed. The wind remained.

When the grand doors of the Holy See closed, sunlight could no longer penetrate the now-empty hall. Yet the stained-glass windows—somehow—still captured and reflected the light, bathing this sacred and solemn space in a radiance unlike anything of the mortal world.

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