A Fortune-telling Princess - Chapter 220

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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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“Your punishment for these misdeeds will be decided shortly. If even a shred of conscience and faith remains within you, I suggest you reflect quietly on your actions. Consider this a warning.”
“Ugh….”
Brisel, who had let out a groan, was led away from the spot by the hands of others, his form growing limp.
Even though he had once been Pope, he continued to offer nothing but excuses until the very end. It was truly lamentable.
‘How did the Church ever fall into such a state….’
I had believed my duty was simply to entrust everything to God, to surrender it all, and to live according to doctrine.
So I devoted myself entirely to missionary work, paying no attention whatsoever to the political struggles that unfolded within the Church.
‘And this is the result of that.’
While I remained thus occupied, the Church rotted from its very roots. Everything that should have served as the foundation had decayed, now reeking of corruption.
Cardinal Martio gazed at the spot where Pope Brisel had vanished, then exhaled a long breath before quietly moving forward.
Knock, knock.
Moments later, he arrived at the Reception Room that had been prepared within the Papal See.
“My apologies for keeping you waiting so long.”
Upon entering, he spoke with utmost courtesy.
“Not at all. I understand perfectly how busy you must be right now.”
The other person responded with a gentle smile to his sincere apology. It was Camilla.
“Your inauguration is next month, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
With Brisel stepping down due to this incident, a new Pope had been appointed.
It was Cardinal Martio himself who had been named the new Pope.
The sole individual who had held his head high even before the Sword of Judgment.
As he winnowed out the Eba Cult followers hidden within the Church, only Cardinal Martio maintained an unwavering composure.
Unlike everyone else who trembled at merely raising the Sword of Judgment, he showed no hesitation in confessing his sins before it.
‘If I bear any sin, I shall accept judgment gladly.’
At that confession, the Sword of Judgment gave no response whatsoever. Witnessing this, all unanimously elevated him to become the next Pope.
His usual demeanor had played a significant role in this decision. He was like a textbook example of a clergyman—utterly indifferent to power, devoted solely to missionary work.
‘What I desire is no different from my life now.’
To prove this, Cardinal Martio had immediately rejected the Church’s proposal. His wish was to continue traveling throughout the Empire as he did now, focusing only on missionary work.
Yet what could be done? What the Church needed, having completely lost the people’s trust, was his very presence—one who stood confident even before the Sword of Judgment.
In the end, he had no choice but to abandon his resolve in the face of people’s earnest pleas.
Above all, Cardinal Martio himself had come to a clear realization through this investigation.
That the Church could not be protected by standing alone, no matter how righteously.
“But I’m curious—what is your reason for summoning me?”
Camilla had come to this place today because the Cardinal Martio—or rather, the Pope-designate—had requested her visit.
It was difficult to fathom why someone so occupied with stabilizing the Church and preparing for his inauguration would seek her out.
[He’s not calling you to take up the position of Saint again, is he?]
Priest Ghost Arena, who had followed behind her, clicked her tongue lightly. What other reason could there possibly be for summoning Camilla like this?
‘Precisely.’
Camilla shared the same thought and released a short sigh inwardly. How should she refuse this time?
Whoosh.
But moments later, Cardinal Martio slowly rose from his seat.
“…!”
Camilla was equally startled and hastily pushed herself up from her chair.
He—Cardinal Martio—had bowed his head toward her.
“What are you….”
“My sincerest apologies.”
“I’m sorry?”
At Camilla’s question, his bow deepened further.
“I heard that High Priest Daniel nearly committed a grave offense against you, my lady.”
He was referring to that incident when he had nearly kidnapped Camilla. A long sigh escaped from his lips as he lifted his head.
“Regardless of the circumstances, it was an attempt to harm you by someone who was once a priest. On behalf of the entire Cult, I offer my deepest apologies.”
Cardinal Martio bowed respectfully once more.
“No, well… I don’t think the Cult really needs to apologize for that….”
Camilla scratched her cheek with a somewhat embarrassed expression. It was quite burdensome having the man who would become the next Pope continually apologizing to her.
“And I must thank you.”
Unlike the flustered Camilla, Cardinal Martio’s voice remained composed.
“I fear I have not properly expressed my gratitude for finding the Sword of Judgment. And….”
His face, which had appeared cold and devoid of emotion, suddenly softened as if touched by a spring breeze.
“Thank you truly for saving those children.”
Camilla immediately understood which children Cardinal Martio was referring to.
The two children whom Priest Ghost Arena had saved by possessing a body and channeling holy power—those children who had been turned to stone and then brought back to life.
‘Now that I think about it, he mentioned he was caring for them.’
After using holy power to heal the two children, Camilla had continued to receive updates about them.
Even after their bodies had fully recovered, hearing that the orphaned children had nowhere to go, Camilla immediately sought them out, intending to sponsor them until they came of age.
But when she found the children, there was already someone caring for them—Cardinal Martio.
He was providing proper support, even sending the two children, who had never received a proper education, to the Academy.
“I shall never forget the grace you have bestowed upon us, my lady.”
At his sincere words, a smile gradually bloomed across Camilla’s face.
[This one might actually be useful.]
Arena, too, sensing his sincerity, wore an unusually pleased smile.
“Though I am but a humble servant of God, should you ever require my assistance, please do not hesitate to ask.”
“I will keep that in mind.”
As he bowed respectfully, Camilla returned the gesture with equal courtesy.
* * *
“Did you really think you’d get away with this!”
A man in his early thirties sat collapsed on the ground, snarling and gnashing his teeth. He looked vicious enough to bite anyone who dared approach him.
“Are you not afraid of Evah’s wrath!”
No one dared step forward at the sight of the man with bloodshot eyes.
Their relentless desperation, refusing to die alone and thrashing about until the very end, had chilled the spines of many.
“We will make you regret ever touching us!”
Recalling the sight of Eba Cult members tearing at each other’s ears with their mouths even while bound hand and foot, everyone took a step back from the Man.
“Maggots! Your ignorance will lead you to death!”
At this display, the Man shouted with even greater bravado.
“I will surely…!”
“How?”
A low voice interjected at that moment.
Footsteps.
Unlike the others, there was one who approached the Man without any particular hesitation.
While the others were weary of the Eba Cult member’s venomous words and expression, his face betrayed no emotion whatsoever.
“How exactly are you going to make us regret it?”
Rather, as if intrigued, he strode toward the Eba Cult member and knelt on one knee to meet his gaze.
“I’m genuinely curious.”
Just what and how he intended to make them regret.
The one asking the question with such sincere curiosity was none other than Arsian.
“The Chief Deity of Eba governs the life and death of all things in this world!”
“And?”
“Are you not afraid of that being’s wrath!”
“No.”
“…What?”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Th, that…!”
What is this guy?
All the people he had ever encountered either felt fear at such words or at least gave off an air of unease.
But far from showing reluctance, the Eba Cult member lost his words at the opponent’s indifferent demeanor—so much so that he might as well have yawned.
“Y, you’re really not afraid?”
“There’s only one thing in this world that I fear.”
Arsian gave his answer with a certain gravity.
During that final battle with the Church Leader of the Eba Cult, Arsian had felt fear for the first time.
A new life.
At the words that Camilla, her existence, could be erased from this world—that she might leave his side—everything had become distant and hollow.
“Such ignorance! Y, you will surely come to regret laying hands on us. You will not escape unscathed, I swear it!”
“So when is that exactly? How long do I have to wait?”
“…When?”
“It’s already been three months. Do I need to wait longer?”
“…What?”
At Arsian’s vacant gaze, as if genuinely curious, the Man’s face went blank.
“When your Church Leader died, I was standing right beside him.”
“…!”
“So why am I still perfectly fine? Is the wrath of your Chief Deity perhaps slower than you thought?”

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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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