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* * *

Servian placed the documents on the table with a dignified air. These were the problematic papers that the spirits had retrieved from Baron Ayaxen’s secret vault.

“Now, feel free to choose whatever suits your fancy,” Servian said with a grin, spreading his arms wide in an exaggerated, almost clownish gesture.

“You could use the documents related to his assets to blackmail Baron Ayaxen into becoming a spy, or you could dig into these suspicious letters to uncover the bats trying to side with the former emperor.”

“Either option doesn’t sound bad,” Axel remarked with a shrug, evaluating Servian’s proposal. At this, Duke Elpinard sharply reprimanded his son.

“Mind your words in the presence of His Majesty.”

“This isn’t an official setting. If we’re too stiff, His Majesty might actually be more displeased,” Axel responded, looking to Kirke for agreement.

Kirke was ready to support Axel, but Duke Elpinard was quicker to scold him again.

“It would be more appropriate for His Majesty to speak first, not you.”

Duke Elpinard then turned slightly toward Kirke and bowed his head. “Please forgive the rudeness, Your Majesty.”

“Axel is a hero who saved the Empire. He is also my comrade, who fought by my side, risking his life.” It was clear that Kirke was suggesting they need not draw such strict lines.

“In fact, I’m more disheartened by how distant my former teacher has become. You seem to be much closer with your young daughter,” Kirke added playfully, recalling how Duke Elpinard used to proudly boast about his daughter in front of everyone.

Kirke had once learned swordsmanship from Duke Elpinard. Now, the Duke lowered his head in submission as a vassal, but back when he was Kirke’s mentor, he was as fearsome as a wild lion or leopard. Who could have imagined that the day would come when this intimidating man would wear a proud expression while bragging about his daughter?

Perhaps feeling embarrassed by his own thoughts, Duke Elpinard cleared his throat and smoothly changed the subject. “I don’t think Ayaxen is bold enough to act as a spy. It would be more effective to investigate further using these documents.”

“Do you think so?” Kirke pondered, stroking his chin, and Axel added his own opinion.

“There’s no need to rush. By now, Ayaxen must have realized that we have these documents. Letting him stew in anxiety could be a good strategy, Your Majesty.”

Axel emphasized the title “Your Majesty” with excessive politeness, bowing his head deeply. The overly deferential attitude, which bordered on mockery, caused Duke Elpinard to furrow his brow deeply.

Kirke couldn’t help but chuckle at the petty rivalry between father and son. They might not be the ideal father and son, but their easy familiarity and lack of formality made them seem like a real family.

If only all father-son relationships were like this, perhaps there would be no unhappy families in the world. Especially considering how far from the ideal his own relationship with his father was.

You could attribute it to the unique circumstances of being part of the imperial family, but given Elpinard’s wealth and power, which were anything but ordinary, it was ultimately a matter of character. Kirke’s father was undeniably a twisted individual, and Kirke was not the kind of child to obediently follow such a man. This was the root cause of the ongoing war that continued to this day.

“I, too, would like to enjoy this advantageous position for a while. Besides, with the former emperor expected to arrive at his villa soon, it might be worthwhile to observe how things unfold,” Kirke said, adopting Axel’s suggestion. Axel, with his characteristic blend of arrogance, gave a slight nod. It was an attitude that could easily be seen as insolent, but for Axel, displaying his superiority came as naturally as breathing. Would there ever be a day when this man showed true humility? Kirke couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought.

Just then, a voice called out from beyond the door. “Your Majesty, you should return to the palace immediately.”

The voice belonged to the attendant who had accompanied Kirke to Duke Elpinard’s estate. Though the tone was calm, there was an unmistakable urgency beneath it. It was already out of the ordinary for an attendant to speak without entering the room, a breach of court etiquette that spoke to the gravity of the situation.

Sensing the severity, Servian immediately stood and opened the door to greet the attendant. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

The attendant hesitated, but Kirke turned his head and commanded, “Speak freely.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the attendant replied, bowing deeply. “Urgent news from Kydsha. The Pope has passed away.”

The four men exchanged startled glances. The current Pope was a revered figure, admired by many across the continent. His death was a monumental event that would send ripples not only through the Church but throughout the entire continent.

Without hesitation, Kirke rose from his seat. “We must return to the palace at once and prepare for the ‘Final Pilgrimage.'”

* * *

There were five sacred sites on the continent, each marked by the presence of divine relics. When a Pope passed away, it was tradition for the Pope’s body to be taken on a final pilgrimage to these sites before the last rites were conducted at the Kydsha Temple. During the time the Pope’s coffin rested at each site, the doors were thrown open to all believers, regardless of rank or status, to pay their respects.

The imperial capital, where the Prophecy Book was kept, was one of these renowned sacred sites, drawing pilgrims year-round. Among them, a small chapel, believed to have been directly inscribed by the gods, was where the Pope’s coffin would temporarily reside on its journey.

After the Pope completed this final pilgrimage and the funeral was held, a conclave would convene to elect the next Pope. The council of elders within the Church would gather and continue voting until a unanimous decision was reached. Historically, such elections had never been concluded in a single round of voting.

However, this time, the voting would be different.

The Pope’s final pilgrimage had yet to begin, but rumors were already circulating within the Church that the next Pope had been all but decided.

“Isn’t it obvious? It has to be Cardinal Bael.”

“I heard the late Pope even left a will endorsing him.”

“A papal will carries a lot of weight, especially since the late Pope had immense support from the faithful.”

Such whispers could be heard among the clergy, gathered in small groups. The election of a new Pope was not just about selecting a new leader for the Church; it was a seismic shift in the balance of power within the institution. The Church, like any other organization, was rife with internal power struggles, alliances, and divisions. Clergymen, particularly those in higher positions, were acutely aware of these dynamics and constantly maneuvered to secure their status.

“The papal election isn’t anonymous, right? Imagine if someone later says, ‘I heard you didn’t vote for me the first time.’ Your future could be blocked completely.”

“Usually, there are several candidates, so you can vote with your conscience in the early rounds and then gradually narrow it down. But this time, it’s different.”

“That’s right. Besides Cardinal Bael, there isn’t really any other strong candidate, is there?”

Just a few years ago, there were a couple of cardinals who could have competed with Bael. However, after they were all involved in scandals and subsequently exiled, there was no one left to challenge him.

“So, it’s important to start currying favor with Cardinal Bael now. If you fall out of his favor, you could end up banished to some rural monastery.”

A chorus of agreement echoed around the room. Amid the murmurs, someone cautiously brought up a new topic.

“Speaking of rural areas… Have you heard the interesting news from the Regennetasia Monastery?”

“Regennetasia? Isn’t that in the middle of nowhere?”

It was a place both physically and psychologically distant from the central Church.

“But why bring it up?”

“They say there’s a boy there who performs miracles. Supposedly, he made a blind man see. He’s been healing people and living among the villagers.”

“What? Is that true?”

“That’s what they say. The Regennetasia Order has already recognized the boy as a saint. The central Church will have to verify it, of course…”

“Wait a minute. Could this complicate things? If this miracle-working saint becomes popular, the Regennetasia Order might push him as a candidate for the papacy.”

“Well…”

The fact was, Cardinal Bael’s endorsed Saint Reshia didn’t enjoy widespread popularity. As someone who had been handed over to a noble family immediately after birth, she had always felt somewhat distant to the common people, regardless of her virtues.

On the other hand, the young saint from the Regennetasia Order was winning hearts with stories of his miracles, especially among those in the countryside. And now, just as the Church needed to elect a new Pope, this unexpected contender had appeared, creating a complex and uncertain situation.

The clergymen exchanged glances, their eyes wide with intrigue and apprehension.