In A Fantasy World I Can Absorbs Abilities

The woman beside him fell quiet, memories surfacing. Others nearby had similar expressions. They, too, had witnessed or heard of such tragedies.

The market's atmosphere grew increasingly agitated. Merchants, commoners, even servants of noble households—everyone was caught up in the same heated discussion.

"What? The miracles were fake?" one man repeated, his eyes widening.

Another man nodded eagerly.

"That's right. Word is, the Pope made a pact with the heretics. They say all those towns supposedly 'purified' by the Radiant Sun Church were actually destroyed to increase their own prestige and collect more donations."

A nearby man clenched his fists, face contorted with fury.

"Is that true? My cousin was burned as a heretic by them. His whole village—five settlements in total—wiped out. I thought it was strange. He was a good man. Honest, upright… the kind who wouldn't harm a fly."

Another voice cut in.

"I knew it. A few months ago, priests came to our village, claiming we were undergoing a divine trial. The moment they finished their prayers, a foul energy swept through—and not long after, a plague of locusts came."

"Oh! I heard that rumor too. The locust swarms caused devastation everywhere, except the Radiant Sun's heartlands—they stayed rich. But get this—someone said the locusts had the Church's crest etched onto their bellies."

Faces turned pale.

"Wait… are you saying they released the locusts on purpose and then raised grain prices?"

"That's just the start. After the land was ruined, they claimed it was the wrath of the gods and demanded donations—then took every last grain and gold coin."

"Those cursed bastards…!"

Just then, a bard passing by joined the conversation. His clear, melodic voice silenced the crowd and drew all eyes to him.

"Hmph. You can't call it baseless gossip… because I've seen it myself."

The crowd leaned in. Traveling minstrels like him often carried news between regions, exchanging stories for coin. Their words were usually trustworthy.

Seeing that he had everyone's attention, the bard pulled back his hood. His striking features only added gravity to his tale.

"A few months ago, I witnessed one of the Church's priests gather a crowd, claiming he would perform a miracle. And sure enough, after the prayer meeting ended, the locust swarms that had been ravaging the land disappeared."

Murmurs spread.

"But," the bard continued, "was that truly a miracle? I don't think so."

Among the crowd, a man who'd been planted to stir emotions shouted,

"He's right! If they were truly devout, wouldn't they go to the most starving and desperate places? But no—they only visit rich lands where lords hand over gold."

The bard nodded solemnly.

"Indeed. In the northeastern province of Lania, one viscount's domain was utterly destroyed by a scheme orchestrated by the Radiant Sun Church."

The crowd collectively gasped. This wasn't some vague claim about a cousin or a far-off village—it was a named location.

"I-I've heard of that," someone exclaimed. "Our hero, Duke Michael, put down the chaos there!"

In nearly every nation except the Pamir Empire, Michael was hailed as a hero. As a knight who had fought both dragons and sphinxes, it was only natural.

The bard gave a bittersweet smile.

"That's right. Duke Michael witnessed the horrors with his own eyes. He tried to expose the Church's evil for what it was—and for that, his lands were invaded."

"What? Then those who attacked his domain after the war weren't Pamir rebels… they were Holy Knights from the Radiant Sun Church?!"

With the crowd now fully riled, and the agents planted among them adding fuel to the fire, the rumors spread like wildfire. Minstrels and jesters of the Zirach Trading Company picked up the tale and began weaving it into songs and stories.

Even the priests of the Radiant Sun Church, passing through the market, couldn't avoid hearing it.

"This is preposterous!" the youngest priest muttered, his face red with rage.

He looked ready to confront the crowd then and there, but an older priest at his side grabbed his arm.

"Don't," the elder warned.

"But, brother—!"

"This isn't just gossip," the senior priest whispered grimly.

"These stories are being spread deliberately. Someone is organizing this, trying to bring down the Pope's reputation."

His eyes scanned the marketplace, observing the range of people repeating the same words—peasants, merchants, servants, even those who appeared to be from noble circles.

The worst part was… much of what they were saying was true.

The old priest stood silently for a long moment, then exhaled a heavy sigh.

What is happening to the Holy Nation…?

---

The coronation had begun.

Elizabeth was busy inspecting the grand plaza where the ceremony would take place, accompanied by her younger sisters. The vast space was already filled with an air of solemn grandeur. Kingdom flags fluttered high above, marble pillars stood elegantly carved, and golden patterns adorned every corner, enhancing the majesty of the coronation stage.

In front of the raised platform where the throne would be placed was an area reserved for nobles and foreign envoys, while a massive viewing section behind them had been prepared for the kingdom's soldiers and citizens.

That wasn't all. Lining the plaza were tapestries and magical lamps, all depicting the exploits of Michael, Dominic, and their loyal retainers. The tapestries, majestic in design, chronicled the kingdom's history and legends. Each piece, painstakingly handwoven, was far more than mere decoration—they were visual chronicles of the kingdom's journey.

They illustrated past wars and victories, sacrifices and glory. Dominic's first campaign, Michael's solo battles in enemy territory, and the brave last stands of loyal knights—every moment was rendered in vivid color and dynamic detail.

Beneath these tapestries, magical lamps cast a soft glow across the plaza. These, too, were no ordinary lights. Enchanted by Leonardo, the kingdom's foremost alchemist, the lamps and tapestries were synchronized to animate the battle scenes at key moments. Clashing swords, roaring war cries, and scenes of triumph would come to life, leaving a powerful impression on all who witnessed them.