Chapter 257. The Mad Warrior (3)

The rumors spread like wildfire—fast, hot, and impossible to contain.

It had already been a week since Caron clashed with the inquisitors. And now, his current situation was...

"Warrior! Please, save the Holy Kingdom!"

"Grand Saintess Seria! Deliver your suffering people!"

"For the Radiant Light!"

"For the Radiant Light!"

Caron was making his way to the Holy Capital, accompanied by a growing throng of pilgrims chanting praises. The number of people who joined him had already surpassed two thousand.

He gazed upon the spectacle he had created and nodded in satisfaction, smugly remarking, "This is what I call a bomb train."

"...Caron," Seria said, frowning. "No matter how I look at it, using the faithful like this doesn't feel right."

"Saintess," Caron replied smoothly.

"Yes?" Seria replied.

"Then you shouldn't have made me the Warrior in the first place," Caron said.

"...Ah."

"Why the regret now? The bet's been made. There's no point in second-guessing it. Besides, this way is a lot more peaceful than going around slaughtering everyone, don't you think?" Caron continued.

Seria had no way to refute that logic. She slowly turned her gaze toward the crowd of faithful trailing behind their carriage.

They were clad in a patchwork of outfits—some in worn clothing, others in dazzling robes. Although the Holy Kingdom officially had no class distinctions outside of the clergy, the economic divide was clear. Tensions between the wealthy and the poor ran deep.

But not on the Caron Train. Here, there was no conflict. All hearts beat as one, singing the names of Caron and Seria with passionate fervor.

"Liberated from sin...!"

"Ooooh! The power of the Radiant Light!"

Those riding the Caron Train even sang hymns as they marched forward.

And that wasn't all.

"Protect the Warrior and the Saintess!"

"Lay down your lives! The Light guides us!"

Paladins had begun joining them in droves—voluntarily. Over two hundred had already assembled, accompanied by battle priests; they were all united under the cause of the Warrior and the Grand Saintess. Their numbers grew exponentially with every diocese they passed.

"This is what makes being a Warrior worthwhile," Caron said, grinning as he looked out the carriage window. "I love it when people give me their attention."

Leo, who was chewing on jerky beside him, let out a sigh. He then said, "I thought your dream was to become a troublemaker."

"Being a Warrior is basically being a troublemaker," Caron replied.

"Caron, a Warrior is nothing like a troublemaker. A Warrior fulfills the will of the divine—" Seria began, but was cut off.

"Yeah, by lopping off the heads of corrupt priests in the name of that will. If that's not a troublemaker, then what is?" Caron interrupted.

"Caron," Seria said coldly.

"Yes, Saintess?"

"I would very much like to punch you in the face," Seria said.

Caron was the kind of man who could test even the patience of a saintess.

Waving his hands in mock innocence, he gave her a radiant smile and replied, "What kind of saintess punches someone who came to help? Shouldn't a saintess be merciful—ugh!"

Thud!

Before Caron could finish, Leon, who was sitting beside him, slammed a fist into his ribs on Seria's behalf.

"Keep teasing the Saintess, and you'll get divine punishment," Leon warned.

"Divine punishment sounds fun," Caron chuckled.

"Then why am I the one getting punished on your behalf?" Leon continued.

"Are you being punished lately, Leon?" Caron asked.

"Being with you is my punishment, you lunatic," Leon answered.

"You're right, Leon," Leo chimed in. "What kind of sin did we commit in our previous lives to end up being with this guy...?"

Seria let out a long sigh as the three cousins carried on their flawless comedy routine. She couldn't understand how the future of the Holy Kingdom had ended up in their hands.

But one thing, at least, was certain.

The Light has guided them here,

Seria thought.

Everything was according to the will of the Light. That Caron had come to this place. That he had become the Warrior. The divine revealed fate through coincidences, and Seria believed this too had to be part of a greater plan.

And so, she asked herself: What, then, was her role in all of this?

I have to support him... as much as I can,

Seria thought.

She had to let Caron do as he wished. She couldn't obstruct him. The Grand Saintess existed to support the Warrior, not to control him.

With that silent vow, Seria steeled her resolve.

Thankfully, there had been no bloodshed since that first clash.

"Do you know why they haven't sent reinforcements?" Caron asked as he stole a piece of jerky from Leo and tossed it into his mouth.

"I don't know," Seria replied, shaking her head.

"That's why seizing the initiative is so important," Caron said, his tone almost smug.

Four warriors of 7-Star caliber had been killed. Meanwhile, Caron's group remained completely unscathed. From the other side's perspective, it would be impossible to properly gauge the extent of their strength.

If it was that sly, calculating bastard Elijah the Saint, he was probably already assuming that Caron had reached 8-Star.

On top of that, this so-called "Warrior's group" had earned overwhelming support from the people of the Holy Kingdom—the faithful citizens. The propaganda and manipulation Caron had planned had worked far better than expected.

"To be honest," Caron admitted with a chuckle, "I didn't think it'd be this effective."

Originally, all Caron had wanted was to fracture the Holy Kingdom's internal unity. He hadn't expected the faithful to rally behind him so fiercely.

"It just means the Saintess is loved by that many people," Caron continued.

It was probably a confluence of coincidences. First came the public's disillusionment during the war preparations and Seria's already immense popularity. Then came the rumor that the beloved Saintess had nearly been assassinated by unknown assailants.

All of it created a perfect storm—one with staggering ripple effects.

"Thanks to that, we'll be able to march into the Holy Capital without any resistance," Caron said, stretching lazily.

With this level of influence, the war preparations within the capital would undoubtedly be thrown into chaos.

The Holy Kingdom wasn't like other nations. Here, faith was everything. And in such a place, the Warrior and the Grand Saintess could very well stand at the very summit of belief.

"Let's really give them hell this time," Caron said, a twisted grin spreading across his face.

They were only four hours from the Holy Capital. In a very short time, they would arrive. And not a single soul dared to block their path.

"Now that we've made the bomb even bigger, the capital's going to explode when we arrive," Caron added.

As soon as they entered Eden, the Holy Capital, a flood of people would greet them—some with cheers and blessings, others with hidden daggers.

Some would shake hands with warmth; others, with malice. But it didn't matter. The justification was already in their hands.

"The first thing we need to do is restore the Pope to power," Caron declared.

The Pope, effectively imprisoned in his own sanctuary, had to be rescued. Only then could Caron be formally anointed as the Warrior—and only then could he freely swing his sword without hesitation.

Caron decided to set his ambition aside for a moment and simply wait.

"Everyone, get some rest," he said, leaning back. "You too, Saintess. You haven't been sleeping at all lately, have you?"

"I'm all right—" Seria began, but before she could finish, Caron had already shut his eyes and slipped into sleep.

Seria looked at his face and let out a bitter smile. She thought,

Somehow... Things will work out.

That was what she had learned from Caron. To believe, no matter what.

And with that, their carriage rolled steadily onward toward the Holy Capital.

***

The human train led by Caron's group soon entered the Holy Capital.

The city walls were far more impressive than Caron had expected—they towered high and exuded a faint, pure light, no doubt the result of priestly blessings.

"They sure look solid," Caron muttered.

It was more like a fortress than a city, sturdier even than the empire's border cities. Atop the walls stood rows of elite soldiers, fully armed, watching the newcomers from above.

"What if they don't open the gates?" Leo asked, casting a wary glance upward.

Caron, arms crossed, nodded as if that possibility had just occurred to him, then said, "Yeah, didn't think of that."

"Hey—" Leo said.

"We could always just punch through the gates—" Caron interrupted, but just as Caron and Leo began to consider their options—

Boom.

With a deep, resonating sound, the massive city gates slowly creaked open on their own.

Watching the doors part, Caron gave a dry chuckle and said, "At least they know how to read the room. Looks like they're not planning to stop us."

Currently, the Holy Capital was under the control of the Order of Truth. For them to open the gates now meant they were willing to let Caron and his group in—at least, for the time being.

This wasn't a situation in which they were being dragged in by the inquisitors. It was a highly symbolic moment—they were entering the Holy City on their own, leading countless believers and troops.

It was clear that the Order was up to something, since they'd let the group in this easily. But even so, Caron had no intention of backing down.

"If they're letting us in, we might as well go in," Caron said.

Whatever schemes awaited him inside, they didn't matter. He always preferred to crush conspiracies in the open—it was louder, messier, more satisfying that way.

"Let's move in," Caron said, turning to the carriage driver.

The driver, eyes wide with emotion, gave an eager nod and said, "Yes, Warrior! I'm honored—truly honored—to be part of this historic moment! I'll remember this for the rest of my life! I love you, Warrior!"

"...Haha," Caron laughed awkwardly.

If there was one thing he would never get used to, it was this overly dramatic culture of the Holy Kingdom.

Clop, clop.

The carriage passed through the open gates and entered the Holy Capital. The moment the wheels touched the inner streets...

"Woooaaahhhhh!"

"Wariorrrrrrrrrr! Saintessssssssss!"

Flower petals rained from the sky as thunderous cheers erupted from the gathered crowd, loud enough to shake the earth. It was a level of reception that genuinely exceeded Caron's expectations.

"Caron, it's time," Seria said as she stood up. "We must respond to the people's welcome."

"Ah... This is kind of embarrassing," Caron replied.

"Hurry up," Seria urged.

"Alright, alright..." Caron said.

Reluctantly, he stood and stepped down from the carriage. As he did, he was met with the sight of thousands of faithful citizens, all waving white blossoms in joyful celebration.

It was breathtaking. The petals swirling in the sunlight, the cloudless sky bathing everything in golden warmth—it was surreal.

"Owner, has there ever been a time when you were welcomed like this before? I feel sick,"

Guillotine grumbled.

Caron had to agree. Even including his previous life, he'd never been greeted with anything quite like this.

"Wave your hand," Seria whispered behind him.

With an awkward smile, Caron raised his hand and waved, "Yes, yes, it's me. Warrior Caron."

Putting on a brazen face was something Caron had long since mastered.

Leo and Leon, who were stepping off the carriage behind him, had their own thoughts.

"Ugh. Leon, I'm going to puke. Just look at Caron's smug face," Leo muttered.

"They don't know what a lunatic he really is yet. Let's be patient," Leon sighed.

"Poor people..." Leo said.

Caron ignored them both and raised his voice, lacing it with a touch of magic. "People of the Holy Kingdom! Thank you so much for this warm welcome!"

He amplified his voice using mana and made it roll through the streets like a tide.

"Woooaaaahhhhhhh!"

"Woooaaaaaahhhh!"

The cheering swelled even louder.

Caron grinned as he looked over the crowd, thinking,

Not even the empire's best stage actors could pull off a show like this.

There really was something nice about being a Warrior.

As Caron soaked in the adoration, Leo leaned over to Leon and whispered, "Do you want to guess what Caron's thinking right now?"

"Go on," Leon said.

"He's probably plotting to do something reckless later. You know, the whole 'the higher you climb, the harder you fall' kind of thing," Leo said.

Leo was spot-on.

Caron, overhearing them, let out a quiet chuckle and said, "Leo, you know me too well."

"Well, obviously—" Leo began.

"Leo, do you want to become the head of the house someday? I'll support you," Caron interrupted.

"Please, Caron. Please," Leo begged.

"You'd make a great head of house," Caron said.

As Caron smiled playfully, Leo grabbed the hem of his coat with a groan.

While they joked and walked forward, a group of paladins approached from a distance. The crowd quickly parted, allowing the knights to make their way forward.

At their head stood a man Caron recognized instantly. It was the Saint who had once clashed with him near the Southern Great Forest.

"It's been a while, Caron Leston—ah, I suppose I should call you 'Warrior' now," Elijah said with a courteous smile.

Caron returned the smile just as brightly, nodded, and leaned in to whisper quietly in Elijah's ear. "Don't pretend to be so calm, you fanatical bastard. I came here to cut off your damn head."

That was Caron's first greeting.

The Mad Dog never held back.