SECOND-CLASS SAINT

Onwards

August 4th Central Year 119 (P.R.E.)

Carissa awoke inside a sterile space.

She quickly deduced its identity after taking note of the white walls, beeping heart monitor and the gentle rays of sunlight peeking through the window gap.

She took a moment to assess her condition soon after noticing the square piece of gauze stuck to her cheek. Her condition wasn't serious—Cyril's skill had already restored her to near-perfect health—but the ever-diligent staff at Babel Medical seemed determined to cover all their bases.

Sitting up on the bed, she looked toward the mirror and made a heavy sigh, burying her face in her hands.

"What was I thinking?" she muttered in a dejected tone.

"I'm wondering the same thing." said the voice on her right.

"Eh?" quickly turning her head, she saw Cyril sitting in the chair by her bedside, casually peeling the apple in his hands. He had a few bandages on him, but his injuries didn't seem all that serious.

"C-Cyril..." she stuttered, seemingly losing her words. "How long have you been sitting there?"

"Relax, I just got here, my room is next door. Heard you woke up yesterday while I was still receiving treatment, so I came to check on you. I didn't expect to see you moping to yourself in here though." Cyril said wittily, perfectly halving the apple on his plate.

Carissa's face flushed with embarrassment, she curled up on the bed, resting her head on her knees.

"....."

No one said anything for a while, the room's silence broken only by the steady hacking of the knife as Cyril continued peeling away at the apples on his plate, slicing them into smaller bits.

With her head still buried, Carissa spoke up in a hushed voice.

"Thank you..."

Still looking down, Cyril curiously tilted his head as he replied.

"For what? The apples?"

"No, I'm talking about what happened in the dungeon. I heard you came to-"

Halfway through her sentence, she looked up and saw Cyril chuckling to himself.

Carissa narrowed her eyebrows, her face flushing as she glared at him. "I feel like you're not taking this seriously at all. I was trying to be sincere here."

"I know, I was just trying to lighten the mood."

Carissa looked away again, this time choosing to stare out the window.

"....I'm sorry...for not believing in you." she said quietly, her hands trembling with the words.

"Is that why you teamed up with Marcel? Because you thought I was too weak to handle Cocytus?"

"Yes," agreed Carissa, bitterly admitting the fact. "When Alice died, I panicked. I knew things were going to get out of hand without her around, especially after the splash you made in the whole incursion thing, that's why I—ow!"

Something struck her on the head, shifting her focus Carissa saw that Cyril had gotten up from his seat and placed the plate of peeled apples on her head.

"I can kind of understand where you're coming from, but neither of us should be sacrificing ourselves for the other. If you really want to keep me out of serious trouble, the best way is to stay out of it yourself, Carissa—because no matter what kind of mess you get into, I'll always come running."

At a loss for words, Carissa gingerly lifted the plate of apples from her head and muttered softly, "I hear you, Cyril. You've certainly become dependable." Now that they were actually talking it out like this, the uneasiness weighing on her began to fade.

Perhaps it was due to his arrogance, or simply because of his sheer confidence, but Cyril's ability to downplay such a perilous situation had done wonders for her mental state.

"I'd say our roles are reversed now—I told you I wouldn't need protection forever." Cyril said matter-of-factly.

"Mmhm," nodding in agreement, Carissa picked up a slice from the plate and took her first bite. "I'm leaving the Phoenix guild once I get discharged. My license got suspended at the perfect time.... I've been meaning take a break from all this hunter stuff for a little while now."

"Oh, I do remember you saying something about that a while back." Cyril took a piece from her plate, chewed, and straightened in his chair. After a few minutes of small talk, he finally saw the perfect chance to slip away—but before he could, Carissa dropped the very question he'd been desperate to avoid.

"Um, Cyril....what happened with Marcel?"

The anxiety in her question stopped him cold, mere inches away from reaching the door. It took Cyril several seconds to frame a response—something that would reassure her while downplaying the consequences.

"You don't have to worry about him anymore."

He could hear Carissa's breath hitch behind him, but he'd already made peace with his decision long ago. "Just take your time recovering, the nurses here are strictly against using magic while you're hospitalized."

Cyril slid the door open and stepped into the hallway, tossing one last bit of banter over his shoulder.

"By the way, Carissa, carrying you out of the gate wasn't easy. My shoulders are still sore—I'll need at least four cans of coffee to recover from that," Cyril joked with a smile as he left the words behind.

Carissa stiffened as her face flushed. 'A-Are you saying I'm heavy?! And why do you even need four cans of coffee? Nobody drinks that much caffeine!'"

He was only trying to kill the somber mood, but a part of him genuinely enjoyed provoking her like that. Cyril quickly closed the door and was about to take off down the lobby when he saw Wilhelm standing right outside the door.

"Walk with me," Wilhelm said, adjusting his suit.

His directive had been so blunt Cyril practically couldn't refuse.

"You seem to have recovered quite a bit, Cyril." said the Chairman, eyeing him as they walked.

"Yeah, my skill is finally working again."

"I see."

After walking in silene for a bit, Cyril finally mustered the courage to prod further.

"So, what happens now, Chairman? I did end up killing a noble and all." Cyril made a dejected face, his tone dropping several octaves as the events resurfaced in his mind.

"If everything goes according to plan, nothing."

Much to his surprise, Wilhelm's simply reply had left him slack-jawed.

"Huh? Wait, what do you mean by that?

"Ahem, let's see, how should I put this..." mused Wilhelm as he searched for the words. "Among the bodies we were able to retrieve before the gate closed, forensic analysis confirmed the presence of Nectar in their bloodstream, so your story that the whole incident was legitimate self-defense actually holds up."

"Will that really be enough justification for his clan?"

"No, I'm sure it won't. They're notoriously extreme about guarding their reputation, which is why I made sure Marcel's corpse—or what was left of it—couldn't be retrieved. Almost his entire unit were unranked rogues to begin with, so its not out of the question for complications to arise amongst them, especially if they were all on that drug while facing an A-rank monster. That explanation should more than suffice for the official story."

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

It made sense in Cyril's mind, even if a part of him could see the flaws in that logic. "You're really going out of your way to defend me huh, Chairman?"

"It's not about defending you per se, Cyril. I'm just keeping things under wraps to avoid all hell breaking loose—you have no idea how extreme some of these nobles can get. That said, I suggest you keep your head down for a while. We have enough circumstantial evidence to conclude Marcel was engaging in suspicious activity, but that still doesn't mean you're completely in the clear. Anything could happen from here on out."

Raising his arms in submission, Cyril assented. "I understand, Chairman. I'll keep that in mind. By the way, whatever happened to Percy? I haven't heard anything about his case yet."

"Yelena tailed him to a research facility in district thirteen, but before she could get any answers, he fled and detonated explosives that brought the entire building down."

Releasing a colossal sigh, Cyril cocked his head back and began staring at the ceiling as they walked. This new bit of information certainly didn't sit right with him.

"He may have gotten away, but we managed to find a few clues at the research site pertaining to Nectar, and what exactly Cocytus has been up to."

"Clues?"

"Yeah, the facility itself was cloaked by the concealment barrier they had Carissa deploy. She wasn't too keen on their activities, but her barrier was strong enough to mask the mana fluctuations around the place. That's why it took us so long to realize… that's where they were keeping the Nephilim's body."

Cyril reacted instantly, shifting his head toward Wilhelm at breakneck speed.

"They had the Nephilim's body in there?" he murmured, disbelief swelling in his eyes.

"Yes, and apparently, the composition of Nectar is strikingly similar to the Nephilim's DNA map, which answers the question of what they were using to create Nectar in the first place."

"That's insane..." Cyril ran his hands through his hair, eyes bulging from shock. That revelation might have been a bit too heavy for this early in the day.

"First, they stole the Nephilim's pod, then they made Nectar and now it's those strange dungeon cores huh? I have a feeling this isn't going to end very well."

Cyril folded his arms, lost in brooding thoughts as they walked, until Wilhelm suddenly gave him a brisk slap on the back.

"Woah! What was that for?"

"Don't make that kind of face around here, that's why the nurses are always hounding on you. Just take your time recovering, there's no need to burden yourself with conspiracies right now. And if that doesn't work, you're welcome to go and fool around with Carissa again, I'm sure she'll appreciate your humor."

"Ah, you saw right through me, huh?" Cyril chuckled, nervously scratching the base of his neck.

"You weren't exactly hiding it." Then, after saying that, Wilhelm suddenly stopped in the middle of the hallway. Cyril followed his lead, only to see the man slowly shake his head in amusement.

"Speaking of extreme nobles Cyril," Wilhelm pointed to the end of the hallway, prompting Cyril to follow. Turning around, Cyril froze at the sight before him, even taking two steps back unconsciously.

"A—Angelica…" The name slipped out without him realizing it.

"Truth be told Cyril, I was actually planning to go see Doctor Miller with you, but it looks like that will have to wait." Said Wilhelm as he observed the curious sight.

Furiously tapping her leg, Angelica lurked at the end of the hallway, arms crossed as she flashed them a practiced smile. Cyril was surprised to see her alone, but his shock was immediately trumped a second later.

"Why does she look so...mad?" Cyril asked nervously, his tone growing weary.

"I guess it must have something to do with the fact that you abandoned her and Shaw partway through your mission."

"I didn't abandon anybody! It was an emergency!" his reflexive shout did more harm than good. After hearing that, Angelica increased her fervent leg tapping and widened the bogus smile on her face.

She was staring straight at him, but Cyril saw no light in her eyes.

"I tried to appeal your case, of course...." Agreed Wilhelm, nodding his head. " but she refused my explanation, saying something about 'how she would like to hear the excuse from your own mouth' or something like that."

"Excuse, huh? So she's already decided that I'm guilty." Cyril deflated, unloading a monstrous sigh in the process.

"She's been wandering around this place for more than two hours looking for you. All the best, Cyril—I'm rooting for you." said Wilhelm as he ruffled Cyril's hair with a grin.

Reaching her limit, Angelica cutely tilted her head and made her graceful approach. "Good day gentlemen." She gave her greeting with perfect etiquette, and before Cyril even had time to fully process what was happening, she grabbed on to his sleeve and hauled him off somewhere.

"You can't be that mad about this."

"Of course not Cyril, I'm not mad at all. I just want to talk to you."

Wilhelm laughed as he watched them awkwardly march away, bickering down the hall.

"Heh, quite the pair indeed."

Wilhelm returned to his office, clasping his hands as he sat behind his desk.

Taking a moment to reflect, he recalled the horrific scene recounted to him by a certain rescue team. Merely recalling the details he'd overheard struck a gruesome picture in his mind, enough to make an ordinary man puke.

"Augmentation of the body's internal vectors, eh? That's a terrible way to go, Marcel."

Reaching for the phone, he dialed an untraceable number and waited for the call to connect. A beep echoed seconds later, and a familiar voice came through the receiver.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Chairman? It's rare for you to contact me out of the blue like this."

Whoever was on the other end had a voice laced with just the right mix of cynicism and sarcasm.

"This isn't the time for games, Michael. I just have a few things I want to ask you, that's all."

"Oh, and what would that be?"

"I'm on the hunt for clues regarding Cocytus, and I remembered your old habit of orchestrating things from behind the scenes—like the incursion, for instance. I'll be blunt: were you the one pulling Marcel's strings? I'm sure you've heard about how he went and got himself killed the other day. He was always a loose cannon, but now that he's died under those circumstances, things could get tricky with the rest of his clan."" Wilhelm spoke the words slowly, as though he were grinding them between his teeth.

"This again? I keep telling you people I had nothing to do with that. "As for Marcel, we cooperated for a short while, though I was only vaguely aware of his motivations. His cooperation was entirely of his own will—no one forced him to do anything."

"I see. So you did have a hand in it." Wilhelm drew a long breath, sharping his glare intently. ""We found trace amounts of Nectar in his bloodstream. Supposedly, he got caught up in the chaos and lost his life when the hidden boss appeared. That being the case, am I to assume you're involved in the production of Nectar as well, Michael?"

"Saying I'm involved is kind of a stretch, it's more accurate to say that I'm a backseat participant. I'm curious to see where this all leads, though I doubt it can do anything as grand as making saints, especially not after all you people have done to interfere."

"That drug has already killed dozens of people." Wilhelm's fist shook the wooden table. "What's the point in creating such a useless drug, one that uses a monster's DNA map as its baseline, no less."

Soft laughter came back over the phone.

"Oh, so you've already dug that far, have you? I'm truly impressed but allow me to remind you of something. The entire city is currently at risk, because Alice isn't here anymore— we no longer have a saint, this is no time for us to be playing it safe."

A pang of shock ran through Wilhelm's chest, stifling his resolve.

"We've held a monopoly on Ziggurat for the last hundred years, but for the first time, we have no way to defend it. People are practically clawing to get a piece of this place—you have no idea how many partnership offers I've received just in the past month. The NAC is only the tip of the iceberg; there are countries even willing to lend their saints if it means gaining a foothold."

At that moment, a vicious realization struck Wilhelm, although he couldn't bring himself to agree with Michael's words, there was some truth to them.

"In that case, why create Nectar? You clearly don't believe its capable of creating a saint, so why?"

Michael laughed again.

"It's a field test. I simply wish to see how far people are willing to go for power."

"Tch, what nonsense. You're insane." Wilhelm cursed him openly

"Bold words coming from you. It seems you've nearly forgotten Project Lamplight—the very one that used children for experiments. Of course, I was complicit, but so were you, Chairman. Don't try to take the high road now that you're getting on in years."

"I'm not defending it—the project was certainly inhumane. But I've learned from my mistakes, while you, Michael, seem to revel in such atrocities."

"Is that right?" Michael replied carelessly, his tone lacking interest.

"Ah, that reminds me—what happened to Alice's little guinea pig, the one with the highest chance of succeeding? I've been seeing him on the news a lot lately… I think he even ranked up. Don't tell me—"

"No." Wilhelm cut him off sharply, wrath lurking in his tone. "That has nothing to do with it, it's just a fluke."

"What a shame. He showed quite a bit of promise back then. I expected more from someone so talented," Michael remarked offhandedly.

"Going back to the topic of the Phoenix clan, I don't think you have much to worry about. After the death of their last patriarch, the whole lot of them have struggled to get their act together, with the exception of Byron. They're the weakest of the four origin clans right now. It's no wonder Marcel was clawing at something like Nectar—at best, it could barely even be called a vague promise of power."

"I appreciate your concern. It really does wonders," Wilhelm spat disinterestedly.

"Heh. Well, with that being said, I wish you the best of luck with Cocytus—I have a feeling you'll need it." After that, the call disconnected.

"Smug bastard," Wilhelm muttered as he set the receiver back in its cradle and sat up in his chair, gazing at the giant towers scattered across the city skyline.

"Looks like things are about to get busy."