My Contract Husband Demands a Divorce - Chapter 83

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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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Light flooded into the Grand Temple through the high ceiling and the colorful, myth-carved windows.
Multi-hued rays pooled over the Pope’s sacred, snow-white Holy Vestments as he stood upon the altar.
Marveled by the enchanting glow, the congregation closed their eyes and listened to the Pope’s prayer.
His face concealed beneath a sacred veil according to canonical law, the Pope delivered the divine word once the prayer concluded.
As the Pope stepped out of the Grand Prayer Hall after delivering his final blessings, an attendant Priest followed to announce the schedule.
“Next on the itinerary is an audience with the priests.”
The Pope nodded silently and walked into the Drawing Room.
Moments later, the door swung open.
The first to enter was a wandering monk, his hood pulled down so low his face remained entirely hidden.
The fabric was encrusted with blood, strange mucus, and something resembling dried, whitish flour dough.
The stench was absolutely foul, sharp enough to pierce the nose even through the screen separating them in the Drawing Room.
As if appearing in the audience chamber without washing wasn’t enough, he let out a massive yawn the second he walked in.
“Yaaawn…”
He shoved his hood back, revealing the face of a Monk with straight bangs that brushed the bridge of his nose.
At that, the Pope stood up from his seat and dropped to his knees before the filthy Monk.
“I offer my absolute obedience and deepest reverence to Karkov, the proxy of Bartes.”
“Ah…”
Karkov. That was the name bestowed upon him by God when he entered the Curia at the age of eight.
Because the mortal Karkov had died to leave only Karkov nestled in the embrace of God, the title ‘Saint’—reserved for honoring deceased holy figures—was appended to his name.
Not that it mattered to him, since he still went by the name Karkov whenever he slipped out for a covert excursion.
“Please wait. I shall have them fetch a fresh change of clothes.”
“No, Your Holiness. Material filth cannot triumph over spiritual purity. If I may drape myself in the very garments Your Holiness wears while tending to the children of Bartes, what greater honor could there be?”
It was a fitting response for a man who spent his regular days as a nameless, wandering monk, styling himself a mere ‘servant of God.’
Whenever Karkov summoned him, he would travel to the Capital’s Grand Temple to act as the Pope’s body double, but at his core, he was a man who owned absolutely nothing.
The Monk carefully peeled off the Holy Vestments and offered them to Karkov.
Then, without a hint of reluctance, he threw the soiled robes Karkov had discarded over his own shoulders.
As he did, he felt something squishy inside the pouch and pulled it out.
“Is this a remnant of a Demonic Beast?”
Karkov nodded, drifting straight to sleep right then and there.
The wandering monk sat in a reverent posture, waiting for the Pope to awaken.
Because Karkov witnessed the path guided by God through his dreams and replenished his divine power that way, his slumber was never to be disturbed.
A long while later, Karkov opened his eyes.
“That is correct. Send it to the Inquisition for research. And, yaaawn… Well, that—there will be a great peril befalling Melbern. No, scratch that. I shall handle this matter myself.”
“Understood, Your Holiness. I shall take my leave then. May the holy and benevolent light of Bartes be with you.”
“May His grace remain with yaaaawn… you as well.”
Despite the half-hearted farewell, the wandering monk smiled, bowed his head to press his forehead against the back of Karkov’s hand in a gesture of respect, and departed from the Drawing Room.
* * *
The Glenmoor Landowner tried to arrange a banquet, but the Archduke’s Order of Knights prepared to depart immediately.
Even when the Landowner tried to hold them back, the leader merely replied with an expressionless face.
“We are returning.”
His demeanor made it clear their work here was done.
Ideally, I wanted to stay and help clean up the aftermath in Glenmoor, but traveling back with the Archduke’s Order of Knights seemed far safer.
If a Demonic Beast appeared and they lacked a Holy Relic, the Archduke’s forces would suffer catastrophic casualties.
With an entire army present, we had no need for escorts.
I requested the Mercenaries to assist with the recovery efforts in Glenmoor instead.
Naturally, I intended to leave funds in trust for their payment.
Evidently satisfied with the sum I proposed, the Mercenaries enthusiastically rolled up their sleeves.
Scheit and I borrowed horses, taking only the servants from the Huniswald Mansion as we joined the Mercenary Captain’s procession.
Our position within the column was directly behind the Mercenary Captain.
To call it protection felt like a stretch; the thundering hooves of the warhorses trailing right behind us carried a subtle hint of menace.
Hoping to break the ice, I spoke up.
“Come to think of it, we haven’t properly introduced ourselves. This is my husband, Scheit Huniswald, and I am Amarynthis Rootsild.”
“I know.”
And that was it.
When a normal person introduces themselves, isn’t it basic courtesy to offer one’s own name in return?
Feeling slightly slighted, I glanced over at Scheit.
Yet, he seemed entirely unfazed.
If anything, he actually looked rather relaxed.
As I stared intently at his face, he flashed that familiar, playful smirk of his.
“Why do you look at me like that? Do you wish to ride ahead of me?”
Seeing him tease me made it truly sink in that we had survived.
The moment a small chuckle escaped my lips, the smile vanished from Scheit’s face.
He hadn’t stiffened up.
His expression had turned calm and tender—the kind that sent a soft, tingling sensation across my skin.
My cheeks burned hot.
Feeling needlessly self-conscious, I deliberately steered my horse a bit further away, prompting Scheit to strike up a conversation to close the gap.
As we bickered back and forth along the way, the Mercenary Captain glanced back at us.
What is it? Why is he staring?
His face was an unreadable mask, making it impossible to fathom what he was thinking.
He peered fixedly at Scheit and me for a moment before turning his gaze back to the front.
“Rest.”
The moment his command rang out, the Adjutant signaled with his hand, bringing nearly five hundred soldiers to a halt.
The instant I dismounted, the strength drained completely from my legs. Leaning heavily against Scheit, I managed to trudge over to a patch of shade and collapsed onto the ground.
With the tension draining away, my eyelids began to feel incredibly heavy.
It was the cumulative toll of not sleeping properly for two whole days.
Offering me his shoulder, Scheit whispered softly.
“Get some sleep.”
“…What if I drift off and they leave us behind?”
Scheit glanced over at the Mercenary Captain, who was still mounted on his horse.
Then, leaning down, he murmured back.
“I suppose I cannot deny that possibility.”
“Even so, he doesn’t seem quite as hostile as I expected.”
This sudden rest period was clearly a courtesy extended to us.
One only had to look at the fact that we were the only ones actually dismounting to rest to see it.
Then again, the reality was that I was simply the only one exhausted.
Scheit looked perfectly fine, as though he had already recovered some of his stamina in the meantime.
I was the only one who hadn’t participated in the actual fighting, yet I was the one lagging behind the most, which sparked a strange wave of stubborn pride inside me.
When I attempted to push myself up, Scheit wrapped his arm around my shoulders and guided me back down to lean against him.
“You will ruin your health if you overexert yourself, Amarynthis.”
“But I hate the thought of delaying everyone and being a burden just because of me.”
“He likely declined the banquet because he factored this exact downtime into his calculations.”
“How could you possibly know that, Scheit?”
“I have my ways of knowing everything.”
“Ways of knowing, my foot. You’re just saying that to ease my mind, aren’t you?”
“Caught me. Do you feel a bit more at ease now?”
At his teasing tone, I gave his chest a light swat.
Finding his playful grin frustratingly endearing, I continued to bicker with him, only to notice more and more glances stealing our way from the surrounding soldiers.
Embarrassment washed over me, successfully banishing my exhaustion in an instant.
“Ahem!”
As I quietly stood up, the Mercenary Captain cast a brief glance in my direction before averting his eyes.
I tried to mount my horse, but lifting my leg to catch the stirrup proved too difficult.
As I lingered there, leaning against the horse while gripping the saddle, Scheit approached.
Dropping down onto one knee, he positioned his thigh beside the horse like a step. He then extended his hand out toward me.
He was offering his thigh as a stepping stone to help me up onto the saddle.
Not even the most famously doting husband or loyal knight would go this far. My face flushed crimson.
“People are watching.”
“This is preferable to delaying the march or having my lady collapse.”
Left with no alternative, I stepped onto his thigh and hoisted myself onto the horse.
Instead of mounting his own beast, he climbed up right behind me.
I could feel his solid chest pressing against my back.
As he draped his arms around me to take the reins, his body heat enveloped me completely.
With a wave of his hand, the Mercenary Captain ordered the column forward.
Our pace was noticeably slower than before.
The gentle, rhythmic swaying of the horse made my eyelids grow heavy once more.
Leaning his head down, he whispered right into my ear.
“Now that your fears of being abandoned are gone, you can finally close your eyes.”
So that was why he rode behind me. I tilted my head back to look at him for a brief second before averting my eyes.
Then, letting all the tension drain from my body, I leaned back comfortably against him.
“…Aren’t you tired, Scheit?”
“This body of mine is sturdier than it looks. I can handle it.”
As that incredibly faint voice echoed softly against my ear, my consciousness began to drift away.
Slipping past my control, my lips parted to murmur a stray thought.
“I feel sorry for Scheit, but… I wish you could stay there forever.”
He seemed to offer some sort of reply, but I fell asleep before the words could reach me.

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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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