Chapter 160. Are You Here, You Fool? (3)

After the situation had been dealt with, Caron, Prince Samir, and Saintess Seria gathered inside the prince's tent for a discussion.

Samir took a deep breath as he watched Caron casually munch on jerky in front of him. The report from his guard commander had been nothing short of shocking.

Out of fifty marauders, five were captured alive, and the rest were all dead. And of the unknown knights, only three survived... The results are staggering. Is Caron Leston truly only seventeen?

Samir thought.

Caron was a monster. A relentless, uncontrollable monster who knew no mercy.

Samir had heard the rumors. Even the Queen of the Southern Seas herself had acknowledged Caron, so his skill had to be exceptional. But hearing about him in whispers and witnessing him firsthand were two entirely different things. And the fact that someone his own age had accomplished something so absurd shook Samir to his core.

"So, what the Inquisitors from the Holy Kingdom wanted was the Saintess' head?" Samir asked.

"To be precise, they planned to martyr the Saintess here and use it as a spark to start a war," Caron said casually. "Fanatics. That's how they are. I keep saying the Holy Kingdom needs to be wiped off the map, don't you agree, Saintess?"

Seria lowered her head at his sharp words, speaking in a barely audible voice. "The citizens are innocent... It's only a few corrupt clergy members..."

"Oh, those clergy members who just so happen to hold all the real power?" Caron scoffed. "So whose fault is it, then? The Pope's, for letting those vermin run wild?"

"H-His Holiness is a good man," Seria insisted.

"I'm sure he is," Caron said flatly. He swallowed another bite of jerky and shot Samir a look of mock sympathy, saying, "Prince Samir, you really should have read the fine print before signing that contract. This is what we call a toxic asset."

"...Calling the Saintess a 'toxic asset' is far too disrespectful," Samir remarked.

"She brought assassins with her the moment she joined you. If that's not toxic, what is?" Caron retorted, raising an eyebrow.

"Well... That's true, but still, referring to her as an 'asset'..." Samir hesitated.

"Fine. How about 'toxic liability'?" Caron quipped. Without waiting for a response, he grabbed the cup in front of him and downed his drink in one go.

The liquor was exquisite—perhaps because it had been served by a prince. It was worlds apart from the crude fermented alcohol he had tasted at the roadside inns.

"Damn," Caron muttered under his breath. Feeling slightly better thanks to the drink, he turned to Seria and said, "Let's go over what we know, Saintess."

Interrogating Lahast had yielded a wealth of valuable information.

The Holy Kingdom was difficult to infiltrate, even with the Leston family's intelligence network. Naturally, information had been scarce. But through this opportunity, they had gained crucial insight.

"So, the Pope is nothing more than a figurehead now, and most of the real power has fallen into the hands of Saint Elijah and the clergy of the 'Order of Truth.' Am I right?"

His words were blunt, but Seria couldn't refute them. She admitted, "...Yes."

"So you just ran away, then?" Caron asked.

"The Radiant Light has given me a mission—" Seria began.

"I'm an atheist," Caron interrupted. "If your god really existed, do you think he'd sit back and let his followers pull this kind of crap?"

"...The Light is always with us," Seria said softly. "The power I wield is proof of His presence."

"Oh? Is that so? Then maybe God really does exist. Seeing how hard you were working to heal Lahast earlier, I can believe it. I told you, Saintess, you have talent. Thanks to you, things went a lot smoother. That guy repented very well," Caron said.

At Caron's words, Seria couldn't help but recall what had happened in the tent earlier.

A blade stabbing, slicing, and carving into flesh... Horrific scenes she could hardly put into words flickered before her eyes.

Without her intervention, Lahast would have long since perished from the sheer brutality of the torture.

"If you fled the Holy Kingdom because you felt threatened, then you can't be completely oblivious... Normally, we call that 'seeking asylum,' don't we, Prince Samir?" Caron said.

"For once, you make a valid point," Samir admitted.

"...Excuse me?" Caron blinked.

"Ah, I misspoke. Ahem."

Caron smirked at the prince. It seemed he had noticed how intimidated Seria was and had deliberately steered the conversation into something lighter.

Sharp guy,

Caron thought. The more he observed Samir, the more he liked him.

"Anyway, Saintess Seria, you've officially defected to an enemy nation. Do you acknowledge that?" Caron asked.

"...I do," Seria admitted.

At her response, Samir gave her a troubled look. "Saintess Seria, I can't grant you asylum," he said. "If my brother were awake, that would be another matter, but for now, it's simply impossible. However, do not worry. When he wakes, I will do my best to—"

"Prince Samir," Caron cut in, sounding almost exasperated. "Why are you suddenly butting into a compensation negotiation?"

Had he spotted an opening? In just that short moment, Samir had assessed Seria's worth and was already maneuvering.

Trying to outthink me?

Caron thought, his gaze locking onto Seria. His eyes gleamed with determination.

"We will protect you," Caron declared. "To be exact, the Ducal Family of Leston will stand behind you."

Seria was adored by the people of the Holy Kingdom. That alone meant she wielded considerable influence across the entire nation.

It was precisely why Saint Elijah wanted her eliminated. If Seria refused to align with their plans, their vision for the Holy Kingdom would never come to fruition. Which meant—

She's the perfect wild card,

Caron thought.

Seria was an ace he could one day use to strike a devastating blow against that sanctimonious bastard. And to top it off, she had extraordinary healing abilities. From Caron's perspective, she was nothing short of a blessing.

The timing is just a little too convenient...

Caron thought.

To encounter the Saintess here, at this moment, it all fit together far too neatly for it to be a coincidence.

Did she plan this?

Caron wondered.

He vaguely recalled hearing rumors about Seria possessing some form of foresight. Perhaps this was exactly the outcome she had been hoping for.

But in the end, he decided it didn't matter. Whether she had orchestrated this or not, one thing was certain.

"Well then, shall we settle the bill, dear customer?" Caron asked, flashing a grin.

This encounter would bring him immense profit. Of that, he had no doubt.

***

Within Fayle's office inside Azureocean Castle, at the dawn of the next day...

While most were still asleep, two men sat across from each other, engaged in conversation.

"What do you think of this situation, Sir Zerath?" Fayle asked.

"It's complicated," Zerath admitted. "But in the long run... It will be to our advantage."

The reason for their early meeting was Caron. More precisely, it was due to the information he had relayed through a communication orb—an update of such importance that it had to be addressed immediately.

"Currently in contact with the Fourth Prince of the Pajar Sultanate to complete the elf regent's request. He is preparing to enter the royal palace."

It was a madman's declaration of intent to enter the heart of an enemy's palace. But the real problem lay in the next part of his report.

"Saintess Seria of the Holy Kingdom has joined the party. The Holy Kingdom's Inquisitors attempted to assassinate her. Severe internal discord was detected within the Holy Kingdom. As such, Azureocean Castle must ensure her protection..."

Fayle exhaled sharply as he reread the document where he had transcribed Caron's message.

"How long has it even been since he left the capital, and he's already entangled in something like this?" he muttered.

Zerath chuckled wryly as he took a sip of tea, replying, "This is just like the young master. Not surprising in the slightest."

Wherever Caron went, chaos followed. At this point, Zerath had almost built up an immunity to it.

"The information about the Pope being reduced to a mere figurehead... That was unexpected. It seems we severely lack intelligence regarding the Holy Kingdom," Zerath noted.

"It's the Holy Kingdom. That's to be expected," Fayle said dryly.

The Holy Kingdom was an anomaly by nature because it was a land not ruled by a king, but by a pope. In fact, the term "Holy Kingdom" itself was a misnomer. Its citizens referred to their nation as the Sacred State.

"To think their leadership consists of lunatics who want to martyr the Saintess just to start a war," Fayle said, scowling.

The international situation was already teetering on the brink of chaos. The war between the southern kingdoms was troublesome enough. But if the Holy Kingdom added fuel to the fire...

A full-scale continental war wouldn't be out of the question. And on top of everything else, in the imperial capital, followers of the Malevolent Emperor had begun to emerge.

It was a mess. A complete, unmitigated disaster.

But the real issue was something else.

Caron stands at the center of it all,

Fayle thought.

Time and time again, problems seemed to spiral around Caron. At this point, Fayle had to wonder who the real source of the problem was.

Fayle let out another deep sigh. He knew none of this was truly Caron's fault, but he couldn't help but worry. His son was caught in a storm, navigating through treacherous waters.

"According to Caron's report, taking the Saintess under our protection is the best course of action. What's your opinion?" Fayle asked.

"I agree," Zerath said. "Saintess Seria holds the unwavering support of the Holy Kingdom's people. If we protect her, the Holy Kingdom won't be able to act recklessly."

"And at the same time, we can extract a great deal from them," Fayle mused. "She must hold countless secrets."

"That sounds like something Young Master Caron would say," Zerath noted.

"I've been thinking about what my son must be planning," Fayle said.

He knew that Caron never acted purely out of goodwill. Caron was a strategist. He would have weighed every possible outcome, ensuring that whatever move he made would ultimately benefit him. And in a matter as politically delicate as this, he would have been even more meticulous.

Fayle recalled the incident where the Holy Kingdom's Saint had tried to take Caron by force.

Those bastards,

Fayle thought.

He wondered what Caron would do if he was in this situation. But he didn't have to think long for the answer.

"At dawn, have our informants start spreading rumors. And... We need to make contact with the capital's press as well," Fayle instructed.

Zerath set his teacup down and nodded, then asked, "Do you have a plan?"

"If it were Caron, he'd find some way to make them pay for this," Fayle said. "What do you think warmongers hate the most?"

Zerath fell silent for a moment, mulling over the question. Then, in a low voice, he answered, "Peace."

"Exactly. That's where we'll begin. Tomorrow's morning papers will run a headline... something like, 'The Love of the Divine Knows No Borders.' That should work. We'll focus on the reports of how Saintess Seria is performing miracles of healing in the Pajar Sultanate," Fayle explained.

The empire had a significant population of worshippers devoted to the God of Light.

"It wouldn't be strange for the Saintess, having completed her mission in Pajar, to visit the empire next," Fayle continued.

Seria's arrival wouldn't raise suspicions.

"I plan to make Saintess Seria a symbol of peace," Fayle said.

"You intend to create a peaceful atmosphere?" Zerath asked.

"Exactly," Fayle answered.

𝗳𝐫𝚎𝗲𝚠𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝘃𝚎𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝗺

This was exactly the kind of move Caron would make. Strike at the enemy in the way they'd hate most—and use that as leverage to take everything from them, piece by piece.

If the Saintess arrived in the empire as an icon of peace, the Holy Kingdom wouldn't have any means to counter it.

"If we play this right, we might even end up holding the fanatics' leash," Fayle added.

A flawless execution could even grant them a justification to interfere in the Holy Kingdom directly.

Caron, that sharp-witted one, had to have already thought this far ahead.

But then, Zerath raised the most crucial point. "That's assuming Saintess Seria makes it safely into the empire. For this plan to work, we need to retrieve her from Young Master Caron without issue."

The Holy Kingdom wouldn't sit idly by and watch. They would try to snatch the Saintess from Caron's grasp.

But Fayle merely gave a wry smile and replied, "Sir Zerath. That boy—he's never let go of something once he's had it in his grasp. You know that as well as I do."

"If anything, he's always taken things from others. Never the other way around," Zerath agreed.

"Caron will make sure she stays safe. My son is out there struggling in a foreign land—it's only right for a father to do what he can to help. But knowing him, he's already got it all figured out," Fayle said, a proud smile crossing his lips.

Watching him, Zerath hesitated. He couldn't bring himself to relay what Caron had privately told him through the communication orb.

"Ah, right. Sir Zerath. I think I can heal the Crown Prince. But the thing is, it involves stabbing Guillotine into him. So... Just in case things go wrong, could you station some Oceanwolf knights near the border? We might need to make a quick getaway, hahaha."

...Perhaps Fayle was overestimating his son.

Or maybe he never had a plan in the first place...

Zerath thought as he shook his head. He sighed and turned to gaze out the window.

The fate of the entire continent could well be resting in the grip of a mad dog. That thought sent an unsettling chill down his spine.

***

Four days later, an urgent report arrived at Azureocean Castle.

Caron, the youngest of the Ducal Family of Leston, the youngest grandson of Grand Duke Halo, had been arrested in the capital of the Pajar Sultanate.