Two days later.

There were only two days left before the Chief Cardinal was expected to appear at the two-week prayer gathering within the temple. While eating at a restaurant near the temple, Alon spoke.

“Evan.”

“Yes, my lord?”

“You usually wander off whenever you get the chance, but not this time, I see.”

At this question, Evan shrugged and replied.

“I went out, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, but there wasn’t much to see or enjoy. Just stepping outside, it looks like other territories. There doesn’t seem to be anything particularly unique about it.”

Alon nodded thoughtfully.

‘The Holy Kingdom does feel a bit like that.’

The capital viewed from outside the walls is truly beautiful. Even if one hasn’t seen the outskirts, the rows of white buildings inside the castle make it clear to anyone that this is the Holy Kingdom of Rosario. However, aside from that, there’s not much entertainment here unless you’re a devout follower of Sironia.

“Evan.”

“Yes?”

“This might sound odd, but is there something behind me?”

“Behind you, my lord?”

“Yes.”

Evan looked puzzled and then spoke.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, but you’ve been asking the same question since yesterday. Is something bothering you?”

Evan looked at him with a confused expression.

Ever since he had exited the Sanctuary, the reactions from the goddess and Heinkel were strangely similar. Realizing he had asked Evan the same question yesterday, Alon shook his head lightly.

“It’s nothing serious.”

“Well… though, there is something behind you.”

“? What do you mean?”

“The Saint.”

“The Saint…?”

As Alon turned his gaze at those words, there stood Saint Yuman, staring intently at him with a serious look in his eyes.

“?”

As their eyes met, Yuman quickly averted his gaze. His movement was unusually awkward.

‘…What’s up with him?’

Of course, he had an inkling as to why Yuman might act that way. Alon, not being a priest of Rosario, had entered the Saint’s chamber through Yutia, a place he technically shouldn’t have access to. Still, the reason for his current curiosity was Yuman’s peculiar behavior.

“My lord, did something really happen between you and the Saint?”

“We only met once, that’s all.”

“But doesn’t he seem to be following you a bit too closely? For nearly two days, in fact?”

Alon made a peculiar expression at Evan’s remark. Indeed, Yuman’s unusual behavior was precisely what had caught his attention.

After Alon had entered and left the Saint’s room two evenings prior, Yuman, who shouldn’t have had any reason to follow him, had been trailing him for two days now—quite visibly, too. However, he only followed, never actually speaking to him.

‘Did he somehow catch me taking the Eye Eater’s Pendent from the room? No, that shouldn’t be possible—it wasn’t tracked by any magic, and it was well hidden…’

As Alon pondered other possible reasons, suddenly—

Thud!

Yuman, who had been seated just moments before, seemed to make up his mind, stood up, and walked over to stand before Alon.

“May I have a word with you in private?”

“Yes, in private?”

As Alon nodded, puzzled, Yuman glanced around discreetly and then whispered quietly.

“It would be wise to be cautious of Cardinal Yutia, Count Palatio.”

“…Pardon?”

“She is not a believer like us.”

“…?”

Yuman said this with utmost seriousness, leaving Alon even more bewildered. With an expression of profound resolve and a determined look in his eyes, Yuman then said, “Well then, I’ll be off.” He bowed slightly and turned to leave.

Watching him walk away, Evan, just as bewildered, asked, “What was that about, my lord?”

“I have no idea,” Alon replied, equally perplexed.

Meanwhile, as Alon was grappling with Yuman’s sudden shift in behavior, over at the Blue Tower…

“No! I said NO, you idiots!!!”

Out of nowhere, loud shouting erupted.

“Get out! All of you!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Startled by her fierce outburst, the wizards scurried out at once. Watching them flee, she sighed heavily, massaging her temples as if staving off a headache.

‘Why am I even in this ridiculous situation…?’

Penia let out another long sigh, clutching her head. It was no wonder—recently, she had been under constant stress due to an absurd rumor.

The rumor circulating was that Penia Crysinne was in love with Count Palatio—a piece of gossip as baseless as it was bothersome, and it was causing her great frustration.

Even earlier that day, one of her assistants—a mage who had been holed up in the Tower for over ten months, absorbed in research—had appeared with a cake that read, “Congratulations on your engagement, Vice Tower Master!”

Sigh

From Penia’s perspective, she could begrudgingly tolerate these sorts of antics, even laugh them off, no matter how often they occurred. However, the reason for her extreme reaction lay in the nature of these mages themselves.

Wizards typically spend months or even years holed up in their labs, absorbed in their research, so they often miss rumors. This means every other day, someone new comes by to congratulate her on the so-called “marriage.” And it doesn’t stop there. They don’t just congratulate her—they assume, “Since there’s a happy occasion, it’s okay to be a little cheeky today, right?” leading to remarks like, “Maybe you should tone down your temper,” or “If you get mad, the Count will probably run away, too.” It was driving Penia mad.

“Why on earth do I have to be linked to that—!!!” she wanted to shout, but halfway through, she instinctively glanced at the Tower’s window. Though the height was absolutely unreachable by any person, after witnessing the performance Radan put on at the Raksas Castle, she had started looking cautiously out of any window she passed.

Click—

After opening the window and checking thoroughly in all directions, confirming no one was there, she slumped down, exhausted, wearing a weary expression.

But the recent annoyance wasn’t the only thing bothering Penia. Although it wasn’t usually this extreme, lately, she had been inexplicably unlucky. For instance, out of all the magical items ordered from the merchants, hers alone would “be missing.” Or among the magical materials coming from outside, only her materials would get “lost.” She had experienced five incidents like this in a row.

“Why on earth has my luck been so bad lately?” Penia muttered weakly, almost tearfully. She was about to curse, “This is all that—” but clamped her mouth shut, glancing back at the window.

Despite her gloomy mood, the sky was bright and clear.

####

In the office used by the Saint within Rosario’s inner temple…

Sigh.

Yuman, who had just been talking with Alon, recalled the Count of Palatio’s detached expression, utterly devoid of emotion.

‘Count Palatio is indeed a Saint.’

Of course, Count Palatio hadn’t officially become a Saint. He hadn’t received his holy relic through a public ceremony but rather in a private, unofficial manner. However, even if unofficial, it was clear he was a Saint.

A Saint is someone recognized by the goddess Sironia herself by receiving a holy relic. In fact, even when Yuman had prayed for guidance, the goddess Sironia had directly bestowed a relic upon the Count, affirming his sainthood beyond a doubt.

The only thing Yuman couldn’t understand was why the goddess chose to anoint him as a Saint so secretly without a ceremony. However, even that mystery had somewhat resolved itself by now.

Yuman cautiously lowered his gaze to the book in his hand. This ancient tome, passed down only to Saints through the generations, contained the following words.

[Even with the great nation established by the goddess, it is impossible to save everyone, as evil hides deep within the shadows, fearing the goddess’s dawn.]

[To deal with those whom even the goddess’s nation cannot save and to root out evil lurking before the dawn of the goddess, the goddess has appointed the Silver Saint.]

[The Silver Saint, wielding the blade of dawn, will save those untouched by light from the shadows and eliminate evil embedded in darkness.]

[In the undisclosed dawn, they are those who extend the goddess’s grace.]

“Silver Saint…”

Yuman murmured the words “Silver Saint” from the ancient text, thinking of Count Palatio. If he truly was appointed as the Silver Saint, it would make sense why he received only the relic from the goddess without a formal ceremony.

Thus…

‘If Count Palatio is the Silver Saint, he must be kept away from Cardinal Yutia.’

A small sense of duty took root within Yuman’s heart. He didn’t fully understand why the goddess Sironia had chosen Count Palatio as the Silver Saint, but he knew that his role was not to question but to accept. It would be foolish to question the goddess’s choice, and he understood that Count Palatio should not be aligned with Cardinal Yutia.

To Yuman, she was someone who, rather than revering the goddess, sought to use her power for selfish means—no different from the corrupt.

Thus…

‘I must help the Silver Saint walk the right path. I must…!’

With eyes full of determination, he closed the ancient tome. A strange and intricate series of events had begun to unfold.

####

Two days later, it was finally the day of Alon’s investiture ceremony.

Alon hurried to the temple for the early morning ceremony but soon found himself wearing a puzzled expression. There was an unusually large number of Paladins accompanying him on his way to the temple. Of course, this wasn’t unusual in itself, as those with black shoulder pads on their armor were the Paladins directly under the Cardinal—currently, the ones escorting Yutia, who was walking beside Alon.

However, Alon’s curiosity was piqued by the Paladins walking to his left. Clad in white armor with blue epaulets, they were not under the Cardinal’s command but were instead the personal Paladins of Saint Yuman, following him just as naturally as Yutia’s Paladins.

Alon glanced questioningly at Yuman, then shifted his gaze back to Yutia. But—

“…??”

Yutia, too, seemed bewildered, as if silently asking, “What is going on with him?”

‘What is happening?’

Alon found himself even more confused, with no clear answers in sight.