Little Tyrant Doesn’t Want to Meet with a Bad End - Chapter 531-2
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- Chapter 531-2 - Little Tyrant Doesn’t Want to Meet with a Bad End Chapter 531-2
Of course, the proposal to confer sainthood upon someone as young as Roel was bound to draw contention. This matter would likely be first put aside for a few years before there was any follow-through.
Nevertheless, it was already plenty shocking that the church was even considering it at all.
Roel could be considered the future superior of the entire Genesis Goddess Church—with the exception of the Xeclydes, of course—and this was a lifetime appointment. Even the cardinal in the Holy Capital wouldn’t be able to do anything about him.
It was a huge relief that Roel hadn’t become complacent as a result of his identity. He remained humble and sincere throughout the entire prayer, making him a role model for the people.
There were also no faults to be picked with the other members of the Ascart House. Marquess Carter was as dignified as ever, and Alicia Ascart conducted herself properly during the prayers. Their devotion to the prayers moved the bishop.
Little did he know that Carter and Alicia had ulterior motives.
As a military man, Carter was trained to maintain an upright posture, thus allowing him to remain dignified in all occasions. His sincere attitude would also have been discounted by his desperate plea for descendants in their lineage.
It was the same for Alicia too. Beneath her solemn and graceful exterior was a mind brimming with thoughts of Roel.
It was naturally much easier for them to focus on their prayers with their clear goals.
In contrast, Roel was the only one who was earnestly praying out of gratitude to Goddess Sia for Her bestowment. ‘Being Toward Death’ was Roel’s greatest ace against his increasingly stronger enemies. It enabled him to disregard the side effects of his abilities and dish out everything he had in times of desperation, thus making a comeback possible.
He could still remember how he felt when he met Sia’s projection and obtained the ability during his breakthrough to Origin Level 3. He felt as if he was basking under the sun on a grass field, and it filled his soul with serenity despite the threatening situation he was in.
Being Toward Death was a self-created ability as much as it was Sia’s blessing. It had formed out of his courage to forge his own path, and it was supported by his bloodline and Crown Origin Attribute. There was no doubt that this ability was uniquely his. That was probably why he was able to adeptly use Being Toward Death without practice.
Praying brought the same feeling of serenity to Roel too, which likely contributed toward his favorable impression of it. To his surprise, he didn’t feel the same serenity from praying today in this majestic cathedral. A frown formed on his face, and he couldn’t help wondering about the reason.
Is it because there are more people here? Or am I still bothered by what happened earlier?
Roel pondered for a long time before slowly shaking his head. He didn’t think that his unease had arisen from external reasons, considering how he had felt Sia’s serenity even in the midst of a chaotic battlefield.
After eliminating all other possibilities, the conclusion he arrived at caused his face to slowly turn grim.
There were several official reasons behind why a person might feel uneasy while praying. It might be possible that an individual had done something against Sia’s wishes, or that it was a warning about an upcoming threat.
There was no way that Roel would do something against Sia’s wishes, not to mention that he wasn’t in a condition to do anything after the fight with Flooding Death. If this feeling of unease wasn’t a chastisement, it could only be a warning.
“…”
Perplexed, Roel opened his eyes and surveyed his surroundings.
Rumors about the Ascart Fiefdom being one of the safest places in the Sia Continent were no exaggeration. Civilians of Ascart City had no qualms leaving their doors open through the night, and there were hardly any bandit lairs due to the Ascarts’ generations of strict management. Even the threat of the wolves had been settled in recent years!
It was hard to imagine any danger befalling him when he was inside a cathedral located at the heart of Ascart City.
“Is anything wrong, Lord Roel?”
“No, it’s nothing. Thank you for your concern, Lord Bishop.”
Noticing Roel’s worried look and wandering gaze, the bishop hurriedly enquired about them, fearing that he had done something wrong. Much to his relief, Roel’s inattention had not arisen from dissatisfaction with the cathedral. The bishop was finally able to continue hosting the prayers with ease of mind.
On the other hand, Roel couldn’t find any clues to back up his conjecture, forcing him to leave things be. He tried to take a more optimistic attitude regarding this matter.
It might just be a coincidence… Maybe I simply didn’t sleep well last night.
After consoling himself with some empty words, Roel turned his attention back to the prayers.
As the night deepened, more and more people gathered around the cathedral.
“… It’s the fief lord and his family!”
“Lord Marquess is here too…”
“Isn’t that young master Roel?”
Every now and then, on the bustling street outside the cathedral, someone would point at Roel and the others standing on an elevated platform in the cathedral and exclaim aloud. There was no lack of officials and young noblewomen amongst these people.
The two male members of the Ascart House were practically rare animals at this point, having spent the majority of their time outside in recent years. Due to that, the officials and the common populace were rather sensitive to their presence. It was also the first time many of the migrants were seeing their own fief lord.
As usual, the exceptional visuals of the Ascarts evoked amazed gasps from the crowd. Countless youths fell hopelessly infatuated with Roel and Alicia, but they were doomed to have their hearts broken.
More and more people halted their footsteps outside the cathedral when they saw the Ascarts, and many of them chose to join the prayer, resulting in the expansion of the ritual. The bishop and the clergymen were satisfied with the outcome.
The peaceful prayers finally concluded when the first crack of sunlight appeared in the eastern horizon. Basking in the warmth of the rising sun, the crowd silently murmured their wishes for the new year while accepting Sia’s blessing. A choir inside the cathedral began singing a holy hymn.
Roel and the others finally opened their eyes, having accomplished their first mission for the new year.
…
“Lord Brother, is there something bothering you?”
“What makes you say that?”
“You seem… distracted during the prayer.”
“… You noticed?”
In the carriage, Roel responded to Alicia’s words of concern with an apologetic smile. He didn’t think that his unease was that apparent.
All in all, the New Year’s Prayers didn’t go well for Roel. His discomposure didn’t alleviate with time; on the contrary, it only worsened. To make things worse, he hadn’t managed to figure out the reason behind it. It was frustrating, but in the first place, rationalizing an intuition was no different from trying to catch a fleeting cloud.
Alicia listened to Roel’s experience during the New Year’s Prayers and frowned.
“That doesn’t seem to bode well. Since you aren’t able to uncover the reason, you should keep yourself in tip-top condition so that you respond accordingly should something happen.” Alicia squeezed Roel’s hands to reassure him.
Roel responded with a slightly bitter smile. He hadn’t thought that he would be consoled by Alicia on the very first day of the new year. Nevertheless, he pulled himself together, sat upright, and began searching for answers from a more esoteric perspective.
In his previous world, being gripped by unease while praying to the gods was deemed to be an ominous omen. On the Sia Continent, it was more commonly interpreted to be the result of one’s intuition or sixth sense.
There was no question that intuition was a real thing on the Sia Continent. It often served as a warning of danger. Since becoming a high transcendent, Roel would always sense something before something huge happened.
If that was the reason behind his unease during the prayer, the chances were that something sinister was brewing in the shadows. A storm could very well be headed his way.
Roel decided to expand on that line of thought.
Awakeners of the Kingmaker Bloodline had many enemies by virtue of their lineage. The ones leading the charge in the anti-Roel movement was, first and foremost, the Fallens, followed by the Saints Convocation. Those were the two most likely to inflict harm on him.
As for the other enemies, they weren’t a huge concern at the moment.
Roel exhaled deeply before diving deeper into his analysis.
The Saints Convocation was going through a rough patch right now. One of their God’s Envoys had just been killed, and Rosa’s raid on one of their major hideouts had dealt a critical blow on them. Unless anger had really gotten to their heads, they ought to lie low and recuperate for the time being.
Even if the Saints Convocation decided to make a move, the Rosa Merchant Confederacy, which was located in between the Ascart Fiefdom and the Convocation’s sphere of influence, should be the first one to take the fall.
In any case, it was unlikely for an established evil cult with a history dating back at least centuries to launch a suicidal attack. They would have been wiped out long ago if they were really that reckless.
Does this mean that the troublemaker is the Fallens?
Roel ruminated on that possibility before eventually shaking his head. He found the notion unlikely, considering how Antonio was still keeping a close eye on them.
He hadn’t been slacking around even though he was on break for the last few days. He had been keeping up with the reports coming in from the Austine Empire’s northern mountain range to remain up to date with latest developments.
After Antonio sealed off the use of spatial magic in the mountain range, his team began slowly tightening their encirclement around the Fallens. They were all prepared to confront the enemy. It was hard to imagine that the Collector would put his thoughts here when he was already in a precarious situation himself.
Thus, Roel decided to abandon this train of thought to consider other possibilities.
…
In a sombre mountain range shrouded in fog, a man with a blurred face sat at the end of a long table. An uncanny bird that looked to be a mix of a crow and a falcon was perched on the table, its blood-red eyes glowing brightly. It looked intently at the man, as if relaying information to him.
Heavy silence loomed for a long time before the man suddenly chuckled under his breath.
“Hoh. Holy Eminence John has finally made his move too? They are really determined to get rid of me on behalf of that child. I wouldn’t want it any other way…” the man said in a mocking tone.
He raised his head and merrily looked at the bird before him.
“This is the final party. Do whatever you want. Just don’t forget our goal.”
Upon hearing the man’s order, the uncanny bird unfurled its wings and soared into the dark sky. The man also rose to his feet and walked away. Moments later, the silent space crumbled into nothingness.