A Fortune-telling Princess - Chapter 178

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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“That’s correct. Those who know of her violent tendencies are already well aware. I’ve heard she grappled with another noble lady by the hair in front of a gathering of countless people.”
“Tsk.”
Cardinal Stella, sensing she’d gained momentum, swallowed the laughter threatening to burst from within and pressed her argument more forcefully.
“From the beginning, I’ve had doubts about that holy power. Was it truly holy power?”
“What do you mean? If it wasn’t holy power, what else could it have been?”
“I’ve heard her older brother is quite a skilled mage.”
“Surely you’re not suggesting such a phenomenon was caused by magic? That was clearly a sacred force!”
“It was absolutely not mere mana! How would you explain the children who owe their lives to her holy power?”
The debate had returned to its starting point.
Since everyone voicing opinions refused to yield, the lengthy argument could only continue.
“….”
Through all of this, Pope Brisel sat in the seat of honor, watching in silent contemplation.
He took no side. Nor did he voice any opinion.
He couldn’t begin to guess how this matter would unfold.
What she had displayed was undoubtedly holy power. Extraordinarily powerful holy power at that.
Certainly not the magic Cardinal Stella was claiming.
Cardinal Stella herself likely knew this all too well. Yet she persisted regardless because….
‘There’s no helping it.’
To make Camilla’s words a lie, they would have to diminish her holy power by any means necessary.
‘A troublesome existence indeed.’
While the position of Saint was deeply coveted, she was quite literally a poisoned chalice. One wrong sip and death would follow immediately.
‘The Lord spoke to me. He commanded that I seize every single one of those He named and burn them alive in fire to repay their sins.’
Her voice continued to echo through his mind.
Whenever he recalled the expression of the Sorpel noblewoman as she spoke those words while staring directly into his eyes, his body trembled involuntarily.
Recently, he often dreamed of his own body burning in flames, screaming.
He was the one who hoped more than anyone that she would not receive the title of Saint.
Yet he couldn’t openly side with Cardinal Stella either.
If they branded Camilla Sorpel as a heretic, their own sins might instead be exposed to the world.
His cautious nature in all matters left him hesitating.
Knock, knock.
Moments later, the door opened carefully and a high priest hurried inside.
After bowing respectfully to those present, he carefully placed something before the Pope.
“What is this?”
“The Sorpel noblewoman sent it.”
“Camilla?”
“The Saint sent it?”
All eyes in the room turned toward the box placed before the Pope. What could Camilla possibly have sent?
Click.
Pope Brisel carefully opened the box.
Confusion flickered across the faces of those observing the contents. Inside the box lay a single dagger.
Why would such a sword be sent to this place?
“Wait, just a moment!”
“That…!”
The expressions of the bewildered crowd began to shift with increasing rapidity.
“Surely, this can’t be!”
“That emblem…!”
“Gasp!”
A small dagger wrought in silver. Everyone recognized the sword’s identity at once.
How could they not know it? It was a blade they encountered several times a day!
“The Sword of Judgment, is it not!”
The statue of Saint Arena standing in the central corridor of the Papal See—the Sword of Judgment was clasped in her right hand.
The blade, known to have vanished with her death long ago, now lay before their very eyes.
“How, how is this possible…!”
“It was written in the sacred texts, was it not!”
“The sacred texts?”
“Before Saint Arena passed, she surely spoke these words: when a new saint or holy one appears, the Sword of Judgment shall return as well.”
“That, that is….”
Of course, everyone knew this well. And precisely because they did, none could speak easily.
That Camilla Sorpel had brought forth the Sword of Judgment—did this not mean she truly was a saint!
“But how will you prove this is truly the Sword of Judgment?”
Cardinal Stella raised an objection on behalf of those gripped by confusion.
“Y, yes!”
“It could be a forgery crafted to deceive us.”
Those around her hastened to voice their agreement.
If this truly were the Sword of Judgment, then everything they had claimed—all their accusations branding Camilla a heretic—would crumble to dust.
And truthfully, they could not believe it. That a blade the Cult had failed to find for so long would appear in such circumstances seemed deeply suspicious.
“Why hesitate? Simply verify it.”
“Verify, you say….”
“Do you not all know the power the Sword of Judgment possesses?”
The Sword of Judgment was far more than a mere symbol of the saint’s authority. The blade possessed a special ability.
When one held the sword and confessed their own sins, the blade meted out punishment befitting those transgressions.
Yet in rare instances, those who spoke truth and genuinely repented of their sins with sincere hearts received no punishment whatsoever.
The sword itself judged the sincerity of the person’s heart.
But what if the one wielding the Sword of Judgment lied? What if they sought to hide their sins to the very end?
It would sever fingers, pierce eyes to rob them of sight, and even sever the tongue so they could never speak falsehood again.
Ultimately, the hand holding the sword turns of its own accord toward the heart. And it drives the blade mercilessly into that heart.
No amount of struggling could prevent death. The sword would never leave the hand until the wielder took their own life.
Thus they paid the price of their sins through suicide that was not suicide.
Having ended their life through suicide—the very act the Divine most strictly forbade—their corpse could not even be properly laid to rest.
They became truly one abandoned and cast out by the Divine, stripped of all grace.
“Why not simply test whether this sword is truly the Sword of Judgment?”
At the High Priest’s words, uncertainty flickered across the faces of those gathered.
Whether they believed the sword false or genuine, not a single soul stepped forward to grasp it.
* * *
[How are you feeling?]
“Better than last time.”
[Tsk, your stamina really is abysmal.]
“I don’t think this is a stamina issue.”
[It’s stamina.]
“Yes, yes. Let’s just say my stamina is weak.”
The mountain cave where we sought the Sword of Judgment was not particularly deep.
I was somewhat surprised to find it situated not far from the Central Temple where the Papal See stood.
I knew well how desperately the Cult had searched for the Sword of Judgment after Arena’s death.
I’d heard they’d combed through every place Arena had ever set foot during her lifetime.
‘How could they not find it when it was practically under their noses?’
[Because they’re all spiritually bankrupt.]
‘Bank—’
[I crafted it so the sword can only be found by those with holy power above a certain threshold. There’s no way those pathetic creatures could discover it.]
‘Holy power?’
[The cave where the sword sleeps—I’ve made it so that without holy power at a certain level, one can never find the cave’s entrance.]
‘Why?’
[I wanted someone with holy power as formidable as mine to find and wield that sword.]
‘Then I can’t find it either, can I?’
[You have me, don’t you?]
‘That means—’
[Why not prepare plenty of ice packs? Or perhaps take some fever-reducing medicine before entering.]
In the end, I found the sword easily enough, but I had to spend several more days bedridden.
Unlike when I’d first used holy power, I didn’t lose consciousness entirely, but the aftereffects of possession were unavoidable this time as well.
In other words, chaos erupted in the household once again.
‘Perhaps we should seek out another Healer.’
‘No, that’s not—’
‘I really do think that would be best.’
‘Why does she keep collapsing like this lately!’
‘It’s just the aftereffects of holy fever—’
‘Lie down at once, Camilla!’
Watching me fall ill again, the people of the Sorpel Estate grew deeply concerned, and I found myself breaking into a cold sweat trying to console them.
[You’ll grow accustomed to it eventually.]
“…Why would I need to grow accustomed to this?”
I had no intention of ever using holy power for others’ sake again.
This time I’d only briefly manifested holy power while passing through the cave entrance, so I recovered lightly, but there was no guarantee I wouldn’t collapse like before if I used it again.
[You’ve received the sword well, haven’t you?]
…Why are you changing the subject?
“Sigh.”
Well, I did search for the sword entirely for my own sake. I was the one who suggested we go find it. Let’s just let this one slide.
“I’ve received it well.”
Once I found the Sword of Judgment, I sent it directly to the Papal See.
I wrapped it carefully and sent it as a way of telling them to finally shut their mouths about me, since they’d been gossiping about me every single day.
[Who do you think will use it first?]
“I don’t think anyone will.”
There will certainly be those who harbor suspicions, but I doubt anyone will step forward to actually test the sword.
“Is there anyone who can truly say they’ve never committed a sin?”
Probably not. Especially those wretches who were desperately trying to brand me a heretic—they’ll keep their mouths firmly shut.
Since it’s difficult to determine whether the Sword of Judgment is genuine or fake, it will naturally be equally hard for them to claim I’m a false saint.
Saint Arena said it clearly before she died. Whoever brings the Sword of Judgment will be the next saint.
“After going this far, if anyone still dares to speak ill of me, I’ll tell them to grab the Sword of Judgment first.”
[That’s right.]
It seems there won’t be any more noise after this.
“By the way….”
I furrowed my brow and glanced around the room. Sitting on the bed, I quietly lowered my feet and stood up.
Whoooosh!
Immediately, a brilliant light flooded the room, and someone materialized before me.
“I told you to lie quietly. Why did you get up?”
It was Ravi. Somehow he’d set things up in the room so that the moment I stepped out of bed, he’d appear as if by magic.
“How is a person supposed to lie in bed all day!”
“Why can’t you? Patients are supposed to rest.”
“I’m already completely better.”
“So where are you going? If you need to go somewhere, you’re supposed to contact me.”
“I’m going to the bathroom. The bathroom! Are you going to follow me there too?”
“…I’ll call a maidservant.”
“That’s enough!”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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