Chapter 311
“Thank you… Your Excellency.”
Raywin was now quite proficient in honorifics. As always, the amiable assassin, Ash, worried about his senior.
“Brother Ray, why did you drink so much alcohol?”
“Just…”
No one delved deeply into his evasive words. Everyone already knew the situation. Ash’s earlier remark was more of a chiding than a question anyway.
Ash said.
“Next time you drink, please call me too. I’ll keep you company so you won’t be lonely, Brother Ray.”
“Yes, thank you…”
“You’re having a drinking gathering? Then please call us too.”
“Priest Hestio, Sir Iphail, shouldn’t you two abstain from alcohol?”
At this, Hilde stepped forward.
“There’s no prohibition against alcohol in the Incantation Cult’s doctrine!”
“Oh, I see, Your Excellency.”
“Yes. So please be sure to invite me too, Young Duke!”
“Ah, yes.”
Watching Raywin reply unwittingly and the eager Hilde, Printz chuckled, a rumble in his throat.
“Since we’re at it, how about everyone gathers at the Duke’s Castle for dinner tonight? I’ll ask Grandfather to arrange it.”
“Ooh, Brother Printz! What execution!”
“Excellent!”
“Sounds good, Brother.”
“I’ll take that as everyone agreeing. Let’s go inside now. It’s almost time for the service.”
“Yes, Brother!”
Hilde, who had been clapping her hands in delight, now had a changed expression.
As the Archbishop overseeing the Peronsa diocese, a Cardinal formally ordained by the Incantation Cult, and a Saint who had been granted 8th Divine Power Tier by the ‘Voice-Spirit that Constructs the World’, she took the lead with a solemn face.
Accordingly, the five playful men also seriously escorted her.
In front of the Grand Chapel, the six people’s steps diverged.
Hilde stood alone before the platform where the service was held. From there, she looked around at each person attending the service.
The sermon she had prepared today was a little special.
“A year and a half has already passed. The time since they gifted us peace.”
At the mention of ‘they’, the chapel immediately grew solemn.
This was Saint Agnes Church. The first holy ground of the Incantation Cult. It was a place where the Pink Holy Saint and the Holy Sword’s Master, who had represented the Incantation Cult, could not, and should not, be forgotten.
In fact, among the faithful who filled the chapel’s seats every week, there were families, friends, and acquaintances who had directly formed ties with the two, and also knights, mages, and priests who had participated together in Har-Magedon.
In addition, there were ordinary people who showed deep respect for the heroes as a duty of the survivors, and bereaved families who saw their lost loved ones reflected in them.
“Today, I’d like to talk about something other than doctrine.”
Hilde wanted to comfort these people.
“The seasons are about to change for the sixth time already. Frankly, I still can’t believe that the Pink Holy Saint and the Holy Sword’s Master are no longer with us.”
“…”
“Perhaps many of you here are going through a painful time like me. The pain might be so great that it’s even agonizing to live a peaceful life built upon their sacrifice. But…”
Hilde’s voice gained strength.
“We must never treat the peace of this land merely as their legacy. For it is our duty as survivors to continue nurturing the world.”
“…”
“Let us live by sharing longing, not pain. Let us hold a miracle in a corner of our hearts, but not turn our eyes away from reality.”
“…”
“Only then will we not be ashamed before a miracle that might one day be granted. When we meet our loved ones again, we can proudly say that we lived diligently and waited for them. Let us be happy.”
“That is all,” she said, and no sooner had her awkward conclusion been delivered than sobbing began to be heard from various places.
As if to cover it up by pretending not to notice, Bianca, who was in charge of the pipe organ, hurriedly wove a gentle melody of a hymn.
Ironically, that tenderness amplified the weeping.
Because what ultimately breaks someone who has endured pain is not greater pain, but a single fragment of kindness.
People covering their mouths and their shoulders shaking felt their limits and rushed out of the chapel. Among them were Eltea and Hispenril.
To comfort those weeping, their relatives followed suit. This was repeated again and again.
In an instant, half of the chapel’s seats were empty.
During that time, Hilde did not stop them. She simply stood still, keeping her place, and turned to look at the pipe organ.
Hilde and Bianca exchanged glances.
‘Well done, Hilde.’
‘It’s thanks to you, Young Countess.’
The speech had been written together by Hilde and Bianca.
It was a moment when the two shared a sense of pride within their mutual smiles.
“…”
“…”
Bianca sadly lowered her gaze, and Hilde bit her lip. Their expressions were gradually crumbling.
Tears are highly contagious. They were not so insensitive as to remain aloof even to the weeping filling the church.
“Aillet, come back… We’re waiting for you…”
“Voice-Spirit, please send my sister and brother-in-law back to us.”
Earnest wishes were carried on tear-choked voices. Prayers repeated many times a day were now almost a habit.
But then.
BOOM!
“H-H-Huh?!”
“Gasp?!”
Suddenly, a heavy roar echoed through the air, and the very ground shook.
“W-What is it?”
“An earthquake?!”
Everyone hurriedly headed outside to assess the situation.
Many people had already been outside the church building, weeping loudly, so understanding the situation was easy.
Bianca asked Hispenril and his daughter.
“What happened?”
“A meteor fell, Bia!”
“Over there!”
It was clearly no ordinary meteor. From the hillside pointed to by Eltea’s fingertip, a brilliant white light was bursting forth.
People around them murmured.
“It seems like an unusual phenomenon.”
“Could it be a Dungeon Burst?”
“I do feel like something could pop out at any moment. But after Har-Magedon, S-rank dungeons ceased to exist…”
“Anyway, we must quickly organize a subjugation party!”
At that moment, a voice went against the prevailing opinion.
“No.”
It was Hispenril. At his single word, imbued with the oppressive aura of an Aura Master, the murmuring around them ceased.
Hispenril was silently observing the entrance to the hut. And as he did, he wasn’t the only one.
Hilde, Moriphis, Fliegel Knight, Marquise Lekandro. All those who had reached the ultimate mastery of the Three Great Powers were, like Hispenril, waiting for something.
The consistent reactions of the five powerful individuals were enough to spread solemn tension and overwhelm the surroundings.
Everyone waited in silence, careful even of their breathing.
How much time passed like that? An utterly ordinary sound broke the silence.
Click.
“…”
The hut’s door opened, and an immense light poured out, dazzling to the retina.
Something began to appear in the eyes of those who had desperately completed their light adaptation.
The silhouettes of two people walked out from within the pure white radiance.
Everyone’s eyes widened as if to tear, and they held their breath. What disturbed that brilliant and solemn stillness was, once again, an everyday sound.
“Wow, they’re finally out!”
“Phew. You worked hard, Aillet.”
“You too, Tesillid! …Huh? But why is it so hot? Is it summer already?”
“Seeing the roses wilting on the fence, it looks like late spring…”
“Oh, no! Where did my winter and spring go? I just came back after finding the lost one, and two seasons have already passed!”
“Two seasons? It’s too early to jump to conclusions, Aillet.”
“Huh?”
“Perhaps all four seasons have passed once, and then two more seasons…”
“Tesillid, is that what you should be saying right now? I mean, who told you to hide so thoroughly!”
“…Sorry.”
The bickering voices of the man and woman were familiar.
‘No way.’
‘Those people.’
The shimmering entrance of light that had emitted the two disappeared, and their figures became distinct.
The Pink Holy Saint, and the Holy Sword’s Master.
They had returned.
‘My goodness.’
‘Oh my God.’
‘Ah, Voice-Spirit!’
Everyone covered their mouths. Eyes that had witnessed a miracle inevitably began to well up.
As if to pour reality onto those who still couldn’t believe, Aillet and Tesillid’s conversation continued.
“If you’re sorry, don’t even think about going anywhere alone. No, it might be good to just stay inside the house for the next few years. In spring, I’ll plant cherry trees in the yard for you to admire, in autumn, I’ll make you lots of delicious food to eat, and in winter, when you sit by the fireplace, I’ll warm up some honey milk for you to drink.”
“You missed summer. Won’t you take me to the beach?”
“The ocean is in your eyes, so just look in the mirror.”
“…”
“Don’t laugh. I’m serious, you know?”
“Alright. If you’re by my side, I’ll gladly do that. But Aillet.”
“Huh?”
“A lot of people came out to greet us.”
“Oh!”
Only then did Aillet look around. Countless people were gazing at her and him, swallowing their tears.
No one dared to speak to the two of them rashly.
Aillet, having shed her playfulness and become serious, gently smiled. And cautiously spoke.
“Everyone, did you wait long?”
A voice filled with regret, and a gratitude much greater than that.
At this, all those who had come to greet them looked choked up. They asked with their eyes, in place of words they couldn’t utter.
“Is that even a question?”
“Why did you only come back now?”
…Of course, the resentment was only momentary. There was something else they truly wanted to say.
“It’s a relief.”
“It’s truly a relief.”
“Thank you for coming back.”
As if understanding all those feelings, Aillet intertwined her hand with Tesillid’s and continued speaking.
“Still… I found Tesillid and returned safely. Thank you for waiting.”
“…Aillet.”
Bianca’s choked voice became the signal.
The two had finally returned. Those who loved them, and whom they loved, rushed towards Aillet and Tesillid, calling their names in their own ways.
Soon, she and he were surrounded layer upon layer by people embracing them from all sides.
And a late spring breeze enveloped the moment of reunion.
It was a gentle and kind breeze, befitting a peaceful world.
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The End