Chapter 8: Heavenly Secrets

With a soft sigh, Julius’ gaze wandered aimlessly over the two of them. Frunster’s words could be interpreted in two ways: either he truly knew nothing, not even understanding the content of the vision, or he was pretending to be foolish, trying to deceive Julius. The second possibility seemed more likely, but that was even better—at least he knew how to avoid this question, and that was sufficient. Julius hadn’t intended to do anything with this information in the first place.
“Is that so? I too hope that the blessings of the Holy Light Church will spread across the continent. But often, things don’t go as planned. If we violate our principles in order to spread our teachings or expand the Church’s influence, it would be unacceptable. Even the best intentions can become corrupted if used with inappropriate methods—something you two should understand better than anyone else.”
The Pope’s words became vague, but to the two of them, they carried a clear meaning. Frunster was clearly uneasy, but wasn’t Vazinki the same? It seemed the Pope hadn’t left St. Mark’s Church or the Western Vatican in years, yet he still had control over every change in the world—there was no doubt about that. Over the years, it seemed the Pope had deliberately allowed the two of them to act freely while strictly restraining that madman, Noyora. But now, it seemed he intended to change that situation.
Another silence fell over the chapel. A gaunt figure’s piercing gaze slowly swept over their faces. Despite their well-honed protective masks, they were utterly helpless in the face of that gaze. It felt as though their hearts were opened like those of naive girls deceived by reckless travelers, revealing everything inside to the Pope. In shock, they felt a sense of helplessness they had never experienced before, and cold sweat instantly covered their entire backs.
“Alright, you may go. What happened today is a matter of heavenly secrets—revealing it is pointless. I violated the laws of nature just to make you understand something: the task of spreading the Holy Church is arduous and requires great effort. We must never take it lightly. Think carefully about this.”

Watching the two figures leave in some haste, Julius’s gaze turned wistful. Many things, when taken to extremes, become harmful—why did they fall just short of that point? Only those who can overcome their own desires can reach the destination in this long and lonely journey. He hoped they would come to understand this truth. After reaching its peak, decline follows; somewhat weary, he sensed some lurking crisis. Had the Holy Religion truly reached its zenith? No, this must be just another glorious starting point. Julius firmly believed that thoughts determine success or failure—everything was thus determined.

Komer sat leisurely in the wicker arc chair. The sky-blue vines retained their pleasant color for decades even after complete drying, never fading—this was the charm of the water-type plant, Kyūryūkaku. Not only was it extremely resilient but also naturally cooling, making it an ideal plant for crafting summer cooling items. Unfortunately, this vine had long disappeared from the interior of the continent, remaining only in the remote wilderness, thus becoming a rare item sought after by the nobility. In the kingdom’s upper class, which increasingly pursued pleasure and luxury, it unexpectedly became a fashion trend.

Komer was initially excited by Kakiya’s arrival—not for any special reason, but ever since Vero left, he felt his life had lost some luster. He even began to suffer from insomnia. The reason, he realized, was that his thoughts seemed increasingly detached from the world around him, with no one to confide in. Although Pupber and Ilot were loyal companions in his endeavors, their conversations became dull whenever they strayed from matters related to governance or martial arts exploration in their territory. Even Komer found it torturous and futile to talk to them about anything else. Rebrí seemed like a better conversation partner—whether discussing matters related to the territory or his future path, his advice might not always align with Komer’s views, but it always brought new ideas to his thinking. Yet he too wasn’t someone Komer could truly open up to. And then Kakiya arrived.

Although he knew full well that Kakiya, who had spent years in the royal court, could in no way be the best choice for a heartfelt conversation, Komer still couldn’t suppress his desire to walk around and talk with her. Even Komer himself was surprised by this strange urge; he felt as though he was in some sort of emotional void, longing for interaction—symptoms similar to his usual restlessness whenever he stopped working. But Komer knew he simply wanted someone to talk to, and Kakiya seemed to meet several of his expectations.

Kakiya’s gaze lingered on the young man across from her, slightly surprised by his attitude toward her. Intelligence reports suggested he was close to Hoffman and Lenta; in fact, Hoffman had gone to great lengths to use his personal connections to help Kavkaz secure food supplies—a thing Hoffman, who was usually stingy and always sought returns, had never done before. There seemed to be no other explanation for this except some kind of agreement between the two of them.

But how could this explain his attitude toward her? Having grown up amidst power struggles and intrigues, Kakiya was highly skilled at reading relationships between people. In her eyes, most relationships were based on mutual exploitation, though she acknowledged the existence of rare cases of genuine emotional connection. Humans were advanced beings, and emotions were hard to explain otherwise. Yet, using this as an explanation for the seemingly innocent behavior of this young nobleman seemed far-fetched. Still, Kakiya could sense a special affection from him in every word and action.

Love? That sounded ridiculous. While love at first sight wasn’t entirely extinct, it seemed unlikely between them. A need for profit? Possible, but with Hoffman’s support, Palermo’s role was no longer so crucial. Besides, Palermo was a fickle man who might join forces with Hoffman at any moment. It was more accurate to say he was a servant of interests rather than part of her faction. He surely didn’t need to go to such lengths to confess his feelings to her.

Kakuya’s thoughts were a bit chaotic. From any angle, it seemed unnecessary for the other person to try to please her. Moreover, the sense of desolation and loneliness in their words didn’t seem like an attempt to gain something deliberately. Could she really be so charming that the other person couldn’t tear themselves away after meeting her? Kakuya found it utterly unbelievable if such a thing happened between her and that person.

Sitting peacefully in the wicker chair, enjoying the gentle sway that brought a sense of freshness, Kakuya tried hard to calm her emotions so she could assess her intuition more objectively and consider her main purpose for coming here.

After pouring out her feelings several times, Komer felt a significant relief in her chest. Her heartfelt confession seemed to confuse this woman, who was always surrounded by schemes, while also filling her with a hint of pride and reserve. It seemed her sincere emotions had boosted her confidence quite a bit. Komer even wondered maliciously whether she wasn’t really overwhelmed by the long-suppressed emotions that had suddenly burst forth—then she would truly feel guilty.

Just as Komer had guessed, Kakuya was indeed thrown off balance. No matter how she looked at it, she couldn’t explain everything that had happened in these past few days. Kakuya didn’t believe in love. She even regretted it a bit. If the other person really only liked her body, she wouldn’t mind using her body to get something in return. But marriage? That went beyond her established limits. Choosing a marriage partner who would leave her free from entanglements was an unchangeable decision. As for love? She remembered a saying: You can give anything except love. It’s like a flower soaked in poison—beautiful on the surface, but ultimately bringing only endless wounds or even death. That was a lesson etched deep in her closest friend’s memory.

Komer observed with interest this woman, who possessed a unique charm both in her demeanor and presence. He could see that her emotions were in a state of confusion and hesitation, which gave him a sense of superiority. She was the first woman to take a place in his heart after the emotional trauma caused by Tracy. A combination of reality and self-interest, along with her incomparable appearance, created such a special character. At that moment, Komer’s mood was as nourishing as sunlight after rain on the earth. He even felt an urge to sing aloud, but the circumstances prevented him from acting on such an imprudent impulse.

Komer overestimated his own charm. By now, Kakiya had gradually pulled herself out of the emotional whirlpool. Reason and calmness were the most essential elements for survival—a truth that reminded her at all times that everything was illusory, and only interests were eternal. Gently lifting her hand to smooth her hair, which had become somewhat disheveled by the wind, Kakiya used this small gesture to signal to the other party that she was ready to proceed with the next round of conversation. She didn’t want to engage in excessive philosophical discussions with them—whether about emotions or intuition. Such topics could wait until her actual tasks were completed as casual talk. It was time to get down to business; she didn’t want to waste this opportunity she had worked so hard to secure.