At the heart of the Felberg Empire’s capital, Granada—a place permitted only to the chosen few within the inner castle—stood the imperial palace where the emperor resided, along with the imperial mage tower.
Currently, after the catastrophe at the founding festival, the security checkpoints in the inner castle had been heightened.
Measures such as deploying imperial troops at each gate to closely monitor entrants had been implemented, and in the case of the imperial castle, even those granted entry were followed by surveillance personnel when near the palace.
Patrols by elite knights had been reinforced, clearly demonstrating Count Steiner Randerk’s strict decision to elevate the imperial army’s alert status.
In such circumstances, it was extremely difficult for outsiders to gain permission to enter the palace, but at the insistent request of the Beheading Priest Podric, he had been granted an audience with Emperor Cain and was passing through the imperial castle’s gates toward the palace.
“Tell me more about the paladin of the Imperial Church.”
Podric Kendal, Inquisitor of the Ellington Holy Alliance’s Sixth Diocese, asked about Viscount Aren Valerian, the paladin of the Imperial Church, to Bellikian, the mercenary-turned-Executor following in step just to his right rear.
Podric’s gaze was fixed straight ahead, but the question was clearly directed at Bellikian.
“The paladin of the Imperial Church that the captain is referring to… you mean Viscount Aren Valerian, right?”
“Yes, Viscount Valerian. The battle had already ended right before I arrived. So, I’m quite curious.”
“Hmm.”
At Podric’s interest, Bellikian pieced together the fragments of memory in his mind with a meaningful expression.
Only Podric had been granted the audience with Cain, but as an Executor directly under the Inquisitor, Bellikian had received permission from the imperial army to accompany him up to the palace’s main gate.
However, even with permission, the fact that the two were “outsiders” remained unchanged, so as they passed through the imperial castle’s gates toward the palace, five imperial knights followed at a not-too-distant distance behind them.
“Speak up, hound.”
At Podric’s urging, Bellikian soon opened his mouth.
“It seems the official information that he’s at the Meister level is true. It must have been his first time facing a black magician, yet he didn’t panic much and executed him in an instant.”
“Was he skilled in heretic executions?”
“The expression ‘skilled in heretic executions’ doesn’t seem fitting for Viscount Valerian, at least not right now, Captain.”
“Then what?”
“He just overwhelmed him with divine power. In over forty years of living, that was the first time I’ve witnessed such a massive explosion of divine power, except for you.”
At Bellikian’s straightforward explanation, a spark of interest gleamed in Podric’s eyes.
“Hound, you know this too, right? The divine power a cleric can wield shows great variation depending on the rank of the constellation they worship and the sincerity of the cleric’s faith. Among the old fogeys in the sanctuary, some say innate talent is important, but at least in my view, innate talent isn’t that crucial for divine power.”
The higher the rank of the constellation being worshiped, and the more sincere and holy the cleric’s faith in serving them, the stronger the divine power granted.
However.
“In that sense, the Imperial Church is special. Not particularly exceptional, but special. Their object of worship isn’t the constellations themselves, but the Felberg imperial family and emperor, who are said to have inherited the blood of the constellations that directly descended to the continent in the ancient mythic era.”
In other words, the divine power of the clerics belonging to the Imperial Church varied greatly depending on “what kind of person the current emperor is.” Assuming their blind faith as a constant.
“The reason the Imperial Church’s influence has sharply weakened over the recent decades and centuries, and the decline of the imperial family, are ultimately not unrelated to the fall of the imperial bloodline, the object of divinity. At least, I can say that with confidence.”
No one had awakened the “stigmata,” the strongest weapon of the imperial family that proved the constellation’s bloodline, and foolish ones had ascended to the throne.
Thus, the worship of the Imperial Church’s followers who served the emperor inevitably weakened.
“When you become a bishop-level Inquisitor, you’re granted access to some of the ancient confidential documents. And among them, there are quite a few presumed to be records from the ancient mythic era.”
Suddenly, he felt like smoking a cigarette and reached for the inner pocket of his gray coat, but soon stopped.
There were too many eyes around.
Thanks to the artifact provided by the Sixth Diocese, there was no worry of his private conversation with Bellikian being overheard, but he glanced around once more before speaking again.
“Those ancient confidential documents contain records of the nine paladins who protected the Felberg emperor in the ancient mythic era. They stood against the demon god’s apostles to protect the emperor they worshiped. Curiously enough, one of their surnames was ‘Valerian.'”
“Could one of those nine paladins be an ancestor of Viscount Valerian?”
“That’s unknown. The surname Valerian isn’t rare enough to say that. It could be the ancestor of someone with the same surname. But there’s one clear fact, hound.”
“W-what is that, Captain?”
With Bellikian wearing a thoroughly tense expression and Podric glancing around once more for no particular reason.
“According to information I personally obtained, just a couple of months ago, the paladin of the Imperial Church, Viscount Aren Valerian, was a Grand Chevalier-level expert. Around mid to late stage. For him to become a Meister capable of handling such explosive divine power in such a short time is a matter that warrants attention from the sanctuary.”
Finishing his words in an unusual atmosphere, Podric slowly turned his head to direct his gaze at Bellikian.
“It seems the wastrel-turned-emperor who recently ascended to the throne is no ordinary person.”
The fact that the paladin of the Imperial Church had unleashed divine power reaching the realm of miracles meant, in other words, that the current emperor, Cain—the object of worship—was an extraordinary individual.
“There’s the palace.”
Bellikian was about to ask something, but before they knew it, the palace’s main gate was in sight.
“This is far enough for the escort, Bellikian. Now, use the telegram magic to report the information on Viscount Valerian to the sanctuary.”
“You found out information about the forces behind them?”
Due to the enjoyable and energetic physical training session with Viscount Heinrich Denver from the morning, the wastrel-turned-emperor, Cain, who was in a state of mental and physical fatigue, asked the Beheading Priest Podric again.
“Yes.”
“Speak.”
“There’s no particular reason to hide it, so no need to waste time with a long introduction—I’ll get straight to the point.”
At the straightforward progression, Cain nodded slightly in lieu of a response.
“During the large-scale search and bandit subjugation around the capital Granada recently, we identified and executed numerous black magicians.”
As Podric’s explanation began, Cain nodded once more.
The “great cleanup” around the capital Granada had been directly ordered by Cain, and he received nightly reports on the subjugation results from Count Steiner Randerk, whom he had appointed as imperial army commander.
“In this process, I captured some connections between the black magicians and the empire’s five dukes. I remember conveying this to Viscount Valerian of the Imperial Church not long ago.”
“I heard that information from Viscount Valerian as well. I remember.”
It wasn’t definitive evidence, but thanks to it, the Beheading Priest Podric gained confidence that the Felberg Empire’s “five dukes” were likely related to the black magicians for some reason, and from that day on, he began taking active steps, such as requesting more support personnel from the sanctuary.
“While reporting this to the sanctuary, I instructed the undercover Executors I could personally mobilize to gather information on Duke Hans Deneve and Duke Kosak Tiberian.”
At Podric’s explanation, Cain narrowed his eyes and smiled silently.
The old fogeys in the sanctuary sure have their insidious and shadowy sides.
Simply put, the undercover Executors of the Ellington Holy Alliance could be described as secret informants.
Affiliated with the Sixth Diocese, they were responsible for secretly gathering information in the shadows across the continent to support the smooth activities of Inquisitors dispatched to various regions.
“Continue.”
However, to openly admit they were secretly spreading informants within the empire and conducting intelligence activities—that revealed their arrogance in taking for granted that the empire’s intelligence organizations hadn’t detected it.
Though that fact wasn’t particularly welcome, since what the Beheading Priest Podric would say next was important, Cain decided to let it slide without wasting energy on the issue for now.
“As a result, we haven’t found definitive physical evidence yet, but we discovered traces around Duke Hans Deneve and Duke Kosak Tiberian that appear to be signs of black magic manifestation.”
“The school?”
When Podric’s explanation paused briefly, Cain immediately threw a question about the “school” at him. As expected, the empire’s five dukes were indeed in cahoots with those black magician bastards.
“The school… you know quite a lot.”
The fact that black magicians were divided into schools wasn’t a type of knowledge familiar to many, so Podric showed a somewhat surprised expression, as if astonished that the wastrel-turned-emperor knew even this.
He was known for his impassive face, but when it came to matters related to “heresy” like now, his expressions changed subtly and often.
“Don’t drag it out and speak.”
At the attitude that seemed oddly prolonging the time, Cain urged him again to answer before his patience ran out.
“It’s the Sieron school.”
“The Sieron school… I recall it’s the school that deals with curses and shadows.”
“You’re… quite accurately informed.”
He barely held back the words that almost slipped out: For someone called a wastrel. If he had truly uttered them, he would have had to face the sharp gazes of the loyal guards who had protected the emperor since his wastrel days.
“It’s basic knowledge.”
It wasn’t knowledge common enough to call basic, but Cain, equipped with the developer’s memories, replied indifferently as if it were nothing.
“Anyway, continue.”
“As Your Majesty knows, black magicians aren’t that common. Especially, black magicians of the same school aren’t numerous.”
As the explanation reached this point, Cain could easily guess what the Beheading Priest Podric would say next.
“Considering the traces of the Sieron school that my subordinates found near the lord’s castles of Duke Hans Deneve and Duke Kosak Tiberian, and that quite a few of the black magicians executed around the capital Granada recently were also from the Sieron school… it would be a meaningless waste of time for me to explain further this way or that.”
At the Beheading Priest Podric’s words leading up to this, a deep smile spread across Cain’s lips.
It was because he felt like jumping for joy right then. However, he held back to maintain the emperor’s dignity.
“I believe heretics must be executed. There are no exceptions, even if the opponent is a duke of the empire.”
“I think the same, priest of Ellington.”
“You must not shelter the two dukes just because they are vassals… Pardon?”
At Cain’s words that he thought the same, Podric’s impassive expression broke again.
“I will actively cooperate with the heresy inquisition of Duke Deneve and Duke Tiberian. This is a promise in the name of the emperor of the Felberg Empire.”