Fortunately, the chapel had been built sturdily. Though the collapse of one pillar had begun to crack the others, the ceiling hadn't yet come crashing down. "Hah..." Seria sighed as she waved her hand gently through the air. And then, a miracle happened—the fallen pillar returned to its original place as if nothing had ever happened. "If you want to fight, take it outside. What kind of disgrace is this?" Saintess Seria scolded the combatants sharply. Mitas burst into laughter at her words, then said, "Hahaha! It's been a while since I met a young one with so much energy. I couldn't help but feel my blood boil again. Yes, that's what youth should be like! The young people of this kingdom have none of that." The grave demeanor from earlier had completely vanished. People usually imagined clergy to be calm and composed, but Archbishop Mitas was different. "Caron Leston, I like you," Mitas declared. "...Excuse me?" Caron said. "What's your relationship with my daughter?" Mitas asked. "Your daughter?" Caron echoed. "When Seria was young, she was basically raised by me. So I daresay she's my daughter," Mitas replied. Everything made sense now. This had to be why Seria had come here. And this Archbishop Mitas... was not a normal man. Starting with that immediate punch to the face upon their first meeting, and topped off with that ever-present undercurrent of madness in his voice... It was surprising no one had heard of him before now. Caron chuckled as he slid his sword back into its sheath. He answered, "Saintess Seria hired me. That's the extent of it, employer and employee." "And what exactly did she hire you to do?" Mitas asked. "She asked me to tear through the Holy Kingdom like a maniac. Sounded fun, so I took the job," Caron responded. "Tsk tsk. Seria, didn't I always tell you how naïve you are about the world? And now look at you—bringing in some ruthless bastard ..." Mitas trailed off. As Mitas clicked his tongue and looked Caron up and down, the doors to the chapel burst open and a group of paladins rushed in. Quickly, Caron used Pluto's power to cloak himself and his group from sight. "Archbishop! Are you alright?" a man, likely the commander of the paladins, shouted anxiously. Mitas waved a hand dismissively and said, "Yes, yes, nothing happened. You're all busy, so just return to your duties." "But sir, we received reports of an explosion inside the chapel! There's a high probability that insurgents have infiltrated. You need to evacuate at once!" the man shouted. "I said I'm fine, didn't I?" Mitas said, annoyed. "We'll escort you personally—" the man began, but was interrupted. Mitas slammed his fist into the stone floor of the chapel, shattering it with brute force. A cloud of dust billowed through the sanctuary as he snapped, "Stop pestering me and go do your damn jobs." "Y-Yes!" the man answered. "And shut the door on your way out!" Mitas shouted. Faced with the violent threat, the paladins wisely turned tail and scrambled out of the chapel. Having forcefully sent the paladins on their way, Mitas smiled as he turned back and said, "They're gone. You can come out now." Caron's group slowly became visible again. Mitas narrowed his eyes, examining Caron's power more closely before murmuring with curiosity, "It's not magic... but it's not dark magic either. It's dark, but pure..." "Ever heard of a dark spirit?" Caron asked with a smirk. "A young man with mysterious powers, eh? Completely different from the rumors. You're no hero—you're just completely insane," Mitas remarked. As he spoke, he pulled a small flask from his robe. He uncorked it and took a long swig. A familiar scent drifted to Caron's nose—it definitely wasn't water. "Archbishop, drinking in a holy place ?" Caron commented, raising an eyebrow. "If the Light created this world, then surely it also created liquor. In that case, isn't liquor sacred too?" Mitas replied without missing a beat. "Does the scripture actually say that?" Caron asked. "Of course not. But it doesn't say not to drink either. Right, Seria?" Mitas said. "...Hah." Seria could only sigh. She shook her head and turned to Caron's group to make a proper introduction. "Let me introduce you properly. This is Cardinal Mitas, Archbishop and Overseer of the Third Diocese of the Holy Kingdom." "Yes, I'm Mitas. I somehow ended up being an archbishop," Mitas said, still reeking of liquor and clearly far from the image of a devout man of faith. But Caron found he didn't really mind it. That free-spirited energy... It wasn't the air of a priest. It was more like... "...A mercenary," Caron murmured. Indeed, Caron thought Mitas resembled a mercenary. Mitas laughed and nodded at Caron's remark, then said, "I used to be a mercenary during my youth." "I imagine your hands got quite bloody," Caron added. "Of course. I relieved them of their pain with my own hands," Mitas said calmly. "Relieved... how?" Caron asked, narrowing his eyes. "I killed them," Archbishop Mitas replied with a grin. "Releasing them from their suffering—surely that's a kind of healing, isn't it? Hahaha!" A high-ranking priest with a mercenary past. It was an unlikely combination. The fact that Caron's sources in the Ducal Family of Leston hadn't uncovered anything about this man proved just how limited their reach was—at least within the Holy Kingdom. "Let's talk business," Mitas said after taking another swig from his flask and wiping his mouth on his robes. "Why did you sneak into the Holy Kingdom with Seria as your lead? You do realize that, for her, setting foot here is practically a death sentence, right?" His voice brimmed with concern. Whatever else he was, Mitas clearly cared deeply for Seria. "If you don't speak truthfully," Mitas added, "I'll fold you in half." "Well, that's a little scary," Caron said with a shrug. He then nodded toward Seria. Convincing the archbishop wasn't Caron's job. It was Seria's turn to earn her keep. "Your Grace," Seria stepped forward, but Mitas waved her off with a scowl. "I'm speaking with Caron Leston right now, Seria. Whatever it is, we'll discuss it later." "I came here because I wanted to," Seria declared. "You say that because you don't realize he's using you. Traveling with Caron Leston is the worst possible choice you could make," Mitas said. His tone was reproachful—more that of a parent than a priest. Clearly, they were very close. But Seria didn't back down. She begged, "Please, listen to me." "Seria... The situation is dire," Mitas replied, his voice dropping. "The people of the Holy Kingdom still believe in you, but that faith could shatter at any moment. What we need right now is—" And then, it happened. A radiant light burst from Seria, enveloping the room in brilliance. From her back sprouted wings—six shimmering, flawless wings. The very same wings she had revealed in the royal tomb of the Pajar Sultanate. They meant only one thing. "O dear Light above..." Mitas murmured. Even he—crude, irreverent, and unorthodox as he was—was still a servant of the Light. A saintess with six wings was given the title of Grand Saintess. With her wings fully spread, Seria declared, "I will bring forth the will of the Light." The once-rowdy Mitas instantly straightened his posture and cleared the liquor from his system with a flicker of holy power. In a reverent whisper, he replied, "I, Mitas, servant of the Light, receive the will of radiant glory." Then Seria raised her hand and pointed directly at Caron. In a solemn voice, she declared, "Darkness has fallen upon the Holy Kingdom. Thus, the Light has chosen a Warrior to protect its children. Caron Leston shall become the Sword of Light and dispel the darkness that has taken root in this land." Caron blinked and asked, "Wait... Me?" "Caron Leston," Seria cried out, "Receive the will of the Light! Only you can save this kingdom!" Caron caught sight of a single bead of sweat trailing down her cheek. He thought, ...She's lying. There was no way the God of Light had chosen him—Caron, who had committed blasphemy every time the opportunity arose. Even Seria looked nervous. She was clearly bluffing to the bitter end. All Caron could do was marvel at her audacity in using the name of God itself. If Mitas had been looking at her face instead of bowing his head, he'd have seen through the lie in an instant. "Ca-Caron Leston," Seria stuttered, "You must answer. Do you accept the will of the Light?" Caron glanced over his shoulder and saw that Leo and Leon were doing everything they could to hold back laughter. Caron? The will of the Light...? Leon thought. She called him a Sword of Light? Haha! Leo thought Leo finally lost it, choking out a laugh before hurriedly clamping a hand over his mouth. "Caron Leston!" Seria cried again. With a long sigh, Caron looked at her. He wondered if this was really the only way forward. Well, she'd set the table so nicely, so he decided to take a bite at it. Caron clenched his jaw and replied, "...I will... for now... do my best to follow the will of the Light." "I hereby proclaim Caron Leston as the Warrior!" Seria shouted. "Archbishop Mitas! Will you serve as witness to this holy moment in history?" "I am honored beyond words," Mitas said with a bow. "I, Archbishop Mitas, shall receive the will of the Light and walk this path with you!" And so, with Saintess Seria leading the charge, her wings blazing from the start, Caron played along with her utterly absurd performance. Amid this whole mess of co-conspirators, Caron became the Warrior. That evening, Archbishop Mitas graciously offered his own quarters to the newly appointed Warrior, allowing Caron and his group to finally rest in a warm place after three long days. Inside the cozy lodging, a lively meeting was underway. "The Warrior of the Holy Kingdom, Caron Leston! Damn, that's impressive. I'm so proud of you," Leo said, flashing a grin. "Then how about becoming the first villain judged by the Warrior's sword?" Caron replied coolly. "Just say the word—do you want to lose an arm? A leg? Or should I go straight for the neck?" "Quiet down," Caron muttered. "I'm already on edge." He tore off a piece of warm bread and popped it into his mouth. Then, with a dull expression, he turned to Seria. "What was that all about?" Caron asked. "If this was the plan, you could've at least told me beforehand. Would've saved us both a headache." Announcing him as the Warrior out of nowhere—it had caught him completely off guard. Seria's impulsive move hadn't been part of any strategy they had agreed upon. Seria let out a deep sigh before answering. "Archbishop Mitas reacted so differently than I expected," Seria explained. "I didn't think he would oppose you that strongly." "That just means he cares about you. And he's got a good read on people," Caron said. "Excuse me?" Seria asked, blinking. "Anyone who tells you to stay away from me? That's a genuinely good person," Caron said with a short laugh, washing down the bread with a sip of water. What was done was done. Seria had revealed her six wings—undeniable proof of her status as the Grand Saintess—and declared Caron the Warrior right in front of the Archbishop. There was no turning back now. They would have to revise the plan from here. "Once Archbishop Mitas makes a decision, he never changes his mind," Seria said. "If things had gone on as they were... He would've definitely thrown you out." "Well, the damage is done. So let's get to the point," Caron said. "What exactly is the Warrior supposed to be? I need to know what kind of performance I'm putting on." Seria nodded, exhaling again, then said, "It's... complicated, if I have to go into detail." She launched into an explanation. The Warrior was a divine emissary appointed by the Light itself; a figure who appeared when the continent was on the brink of catastrophe, and upon confirmation of their identity, was granted authority equal to that of the Pope. According to the scriptures, the Warrior always appeared alongside a Grand Saint or Grand Saintess. With Seria now bearing six wings, it made sense that a warrior would follow. But one detail in particular caught Caron's attention. "A Warrior is granted the authority to judge even high-ranking clergy. In a way, it's an even greater power than the Pope's," Seria said. "...They can judge clergy?" Caron asked. "Yes," Seria confirmed. "The Holy Kingdom exists to fight evil. And the Warrior is chosen to lead it into war. That's why they're granted such immense power. Of course... First, they have to be recognized as the Warrior." Caron summarized her explanation in a single, blunt sentence. "So, basically, the Warrior is a divine executioner with a license to kill." "It's not that extreme..." Seria mumbled. "Come on. If someone's walking around lopping off the heads of clergy, what else would you call them?" Caron said, stroking his chin with interest and flashing a wicked grin. "Actually, the benefits are better than I expected." Caron Leston was seventeen years old this year. And apparently, he had just discovered a new dream at his age. "Would I be able to pull off this Warrior thing?" he mused aloud. A sly, almost devilish smile crept across his lips. Watching that expression form on Caron's face, Seria shivered slightly. She thought, What have I done...? But it was too late for regrets. Caron had made up his mind. He was going to be the Warrior.