Chapter 445: Chapter 445: The Meaning of the Shard

Morning light filtered weakly through the narrow stone windows of Orthran’s underground office, illuminating dust motes drifting above the old wooden table. The room was quieter than usual. No chanting from the upper halls, no footsteps from the sisters, no soft hum of clerics organizing scrolls.

Just the three of them.

Orthran poured tea into three small cups with steady hands, yet even he couldn’t hide the slight tremor in his fingers. He pushed two cups forward — one toward Charlotte, one toward Noel — then sat heavily.

Charlotte wrapped both hands around her cup, letting the warmth seep into her palms. She kept glancing at Noel from the corner of her eye.

He hadn’t spoken since they entered.

Noir curled on his shoulder, unusually silent as well.

Orthran took a slow sip, then set his cup down. “…From your expressions,” he said quietly, “it seems you found something.”

Noel lifted his eyes.

Charlotte shifted in her seat, a tiny breath catching in her throat.

Orthran gestured gently with one hand. “Speak. Whatever it is, we will not face it with silence.”

Noel exhaled slowly, steadying himself.

“We didn’t want to wake you last night… but Noir sensed something strange.”

Orthran’s brows drew together. “Strange how?”

Noir stepped onto the table, her tail curling neatly around her paws as she spoke: ’There was a scent in the city. A trace. Very faint… but wrong.’

Charlotte leaned forward. “Was it corruption? Something left behind from the attack?”

Noel shook his head.

“No. Nothing corrupted this is impossible since Orthran makes a monthly blessings. And nothing alive.”

Orthran’s expression darkened. “Then what was it?”

Noel’s hand drifted toward his dimensional pouch.

“It wasn’t something that broke in,” he said quietly. “It didn’t push past the barriers.”

He met Orthran’s eyes directly.

“It was already inside the Holy Capital.”

The air thickened — the silence almost painful.

Charlotte stopped breathing for a moment.

Orthran froze, his fingers tightening around the teacup.

Noir’s ears twitched sharply.

Noel continued. “We found something. And before I show it to you… you should understand this.”

His fingers slipped into the dimensional pouch, brushing past the familiar items he kept there — potions, folded cloths, spare bottles, food — until they touched the cold mana-cloth container.

He drew it out slowly.

Charlotte leaned closer without meaning to, her golden eyes fixed on the small pouch as if it held a serpent.

Noir crouched low, ears flat, watching with razor focus.

Noel placed the mana-cloth bundle on the table.

Orthran watched tense.

Noel exhaled, then carefully unwrapped the cloth.

A faint, golden glow spilled out.

A single crystal shard lay inside — tiny, translucent, pulsing with soft inner light.

Orthran blinked.

His shoulders relaxed.

“Oh,” he said, almost relieved. “That? That’s just an illumination shard. We use them everywhere. Lantern cores, mana-lamps, even heating arrays. They’re very common.”

Noel stared at him.

Charlotte blinked twice.

Noir actually froze mid-breath.

Noel’s voice came out flat. “…You’re joking.”

Orthran raised both brows, confused. “No? The sisters buy crates of them every month. They’re very cheap.”

Noel closed his eyes for a second, steadying himself before speaking again.

When he opened them, there was no hesitation.

“This isn’t just some supply shard.” He tapped the crystal gently. “This carries mana from the ones who came after Charlotte.”

Orthran’s smile faltered.

Noel continued, unwavering. “This belongs to the Pillars.”

The teacup slipped from Orthran’s hand.

The tea spilled across the tablecloth.

For the first time since the crisis began, the old Pope actually paled — color draining from his face as though someone had pulled the floor out from beneath him.

Charlotte leaned forward, voice trembling slightly. “Grandpa… does that mean we’ve been using something dangerous?”

Orthran shook his head immediately — too fast.

“No. No, I—I assure you, it’s harmless mana. Pure. Completely clean. Sisters use it to heat water for the children!”

Noir stepped closer to the shard, tail flicking. ’We don’t know if it’s dangerous,’ she admitted. ’We only know it matches what we found last night. But we do not understand the meaning yet.’

Orthran stared at the shard as if seeing it for the first time.

His voice dropped into a whisper.

“And you said… this carries their mana? The Pillars’ mana?”

Noel nodded once.

“Specifically,” he said, jaw tightening, “the First Pillar.”

Charlotte inhaled sharply.

Orthran’s breath hitched, the fear settling deeper into his eyes.

He just stared at the crystal — the cheap, harmless shard he had probably handled a thousand times — as though it had morphed into a venomous fang.

When he finally spoke, his voice was unsteady.

“…These shards…” He swallowed. “…They come from the Northern Isles.”

Noel’s expression shifted instantly.

Charlotte’s eyes widened.

Noir’s ears snapped forward. ’The Northern Isles?’

Orthran nodded slowly, rubbing his forehead with one trembling hand.

“They’re imported by a merchant fleet. The Church purchases them in large quantities for lighting, heating, and everything involving sustained mana output.” He gestured toward the shard helplessly. “It was… efficient. Cheap. Safe.”

Noel’s jaw clenched.

“Safe?” he repeated quietly.

Orthran flinched — visibly.

Charlotte spoke next, voice soft but cracking at the edges.

“Grandpa… have these crystals ever shown anything strange before? Any shift in mana? Any sign they were… connected to someone?”

Orthran shook his head furiously.

“No. Never. I have used them for decades. They radiate stable mana — nothing more, nothing less.”

Noir sniffed the shard again, cautiously.

’Dad… the scent is faint, but it’s the same type we found last night.’ She walked in a slow circle around it. ’I can’t feel corruption or danger. But the same signature.’

Noel leaned back in his chair as the realization hit him like a cold blade.

“…The Northern Isles.”

Charlotte didn’t ask.

Her expression hardened instantly — not in confusion, but in recognition. She already knew what that meant. She had known ever since Noir mentioned the faint scent.

Her voice dropped, steady but grim.

“Noel… the Second Pillar.”

Noel nodded once, jaw tightening.

“Yeah. She’s there.”

Charlotte swallowed, her golden eyes still fixed on the shard.

“…So we have to go there?” she asked quietly.

Noel met her gaze.

“Yes,” he said. “Eventually, yes. The Second Pillar is too dangerous to leave unchecked.”

Orthran stiffened at the word eventually.

Charlotte leaned forward. “Then we should prepare—”

“No.” Noel cut in gently but firmly, shaking his head.

She blinked.

“We’re not leaving yet,” he clarified. “Not until we finish everything here.”

Orthran let out a slow breath of relief, shoulders dropping slightly.

“The crystals…” Noel tapped the shard lightly with a finger. “They’re stable. They’re harmless as far as mana goes. They’ve been used all over the Holy Capital for years and nothing’s happened.”

Charlotte looked down at it again — a tiny, glowing fragment that was both innocent and terrifying.

“So there’s no rush?”

“No rush,” Noel repeated.

Charlotte understood the moment she looked at him — the subtle tension in his eyes, the way he measured every word.

He was thinking of the mission.

And Charlotte trusted him enough not to question it aloud.

Her voice softened.

“…Solving this comes first.”

“Exactly,” Noel said.

Orthran nodded slowly, unaware of the silent exchange between the two.

“The Church’s foundation is trembling,” Noel continued. “If we leave now, things could collapse behind us. And the Second Pillar will still be there after this is resolved.”

Charlotte gave a small smile — calm, composed, quietly strong.

“Then that’s our plan. We rebuild the faith first… then we head north.”

Noir flicked her tail approvingly. ’Good. One thing at a time.’

Noel exhaled, tension easing slightly now that they were aligned.

Orthran rubbed his temples slowly, exhaustion settling into the lines of his face.

“The faithful…” he murmured. “They accepted the announcement, but they are shaken. Conflicted. Some left. Others stayed only because of Charlotte’s presence.”

He lifted his gaze — sharp again, despite the fatigue.

“We must test their hearts tomorrow. Not with doctrine… but with choice.”

Charlotte tilted her head. “What do you mean, Grandpa?”

Orthran folded his hands on the table.

“We will gather all clergy and devoted believers in the Grand Hall. We will present a new prayer — one centered on guidance and unity, not divine perfection. We will see who recites it willingly… and who refuses.”

Charlotte exhaled softly. “It’s bold,” she admitted, “but necessary.”

Noel leaned back slightly, crossing his arms as he thought.

Orthran continued:

“If they accept this prayer, if they embrace the shift, then the foundations remain strong. If they reject it…” He inhaled deeply. “…we will know who must be guided, and who may try to fracture us from within.”

Charlotte nodded, resolve settling in her posture.

“We’ll do it.”

Orthran smiled faintly — proud, but worried.

“You both carry too much for your age,” he murmured. “But you will lead them. I know you will.”

Noel’s mind, however, was already moving elsewhere. Planning some solution that will help them.

Eighteen days left.

A doctrine to rewrite. A nation to stabilize. And a Second Pillar waiting in the north.

They needed reach. Influence. Support from beyond the Holy Capital.

And suddenly… Noel knew exactly who could provide it.

He straightened.

“I might have an idea.”

Charlotte looked at him immediately — alert, curious.

“What kind of idea?” she asked.

Noel tapped the table softly, thinking ahead.

“We can’t rely on the Holy Capital alone,” he said. “We need voices the world already listens to.”

Orthran frowned slightly. “Who do you have in mind?”

Noel leaned back in his chair, then listed the first name:

“Seraphina.”

Charlotte nodded immediately — that one was obvious. “The Imperial Princess of Valor,” she said. “If she supports the new doctrine, the entire continent will follow.”

Orthran looked impressed despite himself. “That would give us political strength… but we would still need influence beyond Valor.”

Noel’s expression warmed — just a little — before he spoke again.

“That’s where Elyra comes in.”

Charlotte’s eyebrows rose with understanding and a touch of fond amusement. “She’s the future head of House Estermont. Her family practically owns half the known world.”

Noel smiled lightly.

“And she’s one of my dear girlfriends,” he added casually, “so she’ll definitely help.”

Charlotte’s cheeks warmed, but she smiled — proud, not threatened.

Noir snickered telepathically. ’Dad flexing his relationship stats again.’

Orthran blinked. “…I sometimes forget your personal life is… unusual.”

Noel shrugged. “Unusual, but useful. Elyra’s reach spans continents — trade routes, nobles, scholars, foreign churches. If she supports the reformed doctrine, the world listens.”

Orthran slowly leaned back, absorbing the implication.

“The Imperial Princess… and the Estermont heiress,” he murmured.

“A political pillar and an economic pillar working alongside the Church.”

Charlotte placed a hand on Noel’s arm, smiling at him softly.

“It’s a strong plan. We should send the letters today.”

Noel nodded. “If they agree, tomorrow’s gathering will go much smoother.”

Orthran straightened, resolve returning to his posture.

“Then do it. Write to them both.” He exhaled deeply. “With their influence, and Charlotte’s leadership… the faithful might truly accept the change.”

Noir flicked her tail smugly. ’Told you Dad has range.’

Noel rolled his eyes, but there was warmth behind it.

Orthran stepped back, looking at both of them with renewed determination.

“Tomorrow,” he said, “we will test the faith of this city — with the strength of the world behind us.”

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