Sister-in-law of the Heroine in a Childcare Novel - Chapter 219

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

Chapter 219

Illian did not attend the funeral of Princess Titania. Given the unseemly circumstances of her death, the High Sovereign had advised that attendance by Illian, a figure of high standing in the Temple, would damage the institution’s reputation. And also…….
“When I heard that the Castrain Ducal House had been barred from entering the Northern Barrier, I became certain. It was my duty to aid Her Highness Princess Titania.”
The High Priest possessed that certainty.
The certainty that it could not end like this.
Yet the problem lay in not relaying this straightforwardly to the Castrain Family. Despite knowing full well the state of the Castrain household—half-mad in their desperation to find even a trace of Titania, unwilling to abandon even a sliver of hope—he had shared nothing.
Though Raymond had never spoken his admiration or reverence aloud, he had quietly shown respect for Illian. The High Priest understood why Raymond now kept his bloodshot eyes fixed in disrespect.
But now, as he set down a teacup that had long gone cold, he merely smiled with an affable face.
“…….”
“Ha, it seems Orto caught on as well. He had the look of someone with many questions, but I simply told him not to ask since I had no answers to give either. That man has spent several decades enforcing his own stubbornness, and in the meantime, I’ve been mopping up after him until my hair turned white—so it wouldn’t carry much weight for me to tell him not to be stubborn now, but I suppose he understands that much.”
“High Priest.”
“To speak frankly, the Will of the God is, from a human perspective, utterly irrational and absurd—incomprehensible, even. And though decisions may be made with centuries in mind, there are cases where a single human being, from birth to death, never witnesses their outcome…….”
The Temple’s influence had been split into two factions: that of High Priest Marjid and that of High Priest Illian. Illian’s faction, which was essentially at odds with the Imperial Family, consisted of people from the Castrain household.
In effect, people from outside the Temple were splitting the Temple’s power in half.
The Temple’s leader, who ought to mediate this, had grown enfeebled. And he showed no will to act.
“When one comes to understand that the God itself is not entirely omniscient, that even in doing one’s utmost in this life, unconditional salvation does not necessarily await beyond, and that no matter what we do, we cannot run counter to the great current of the world—well, most fall into despair, resignation, or corruption. That is the way of things.”
The power of the God of Light had weakened.
A crisis approaches the world.
Yet the one designated as the hero to overcome it is no one from within the Temple.
“The High Sovereign chose to remain a bystander. He did not openly take Marjid’s side, though…… well, he did not precisely push me forward either. Forgive the irreverence, but it seemed as though he had lost faith in the God itself.”
“…I did not come here out of curiosity about such matters.”
“Yes, in truth. Whether it be myself or Orto…… we are, strictly speaking, failures. We struggled in our generation to end all things, but ultimately reached our limits, and so we have burdened the children of the future with a great weight. Tell me—do you know anything of the Young Duke’s aunt?”
“…….”
Orto’s younger sister.
She had left the family before coming of age, and her very records had been erased—a figure whose existence most had forgotten entirely.
She had left before Raymond was even born, so asking him would be meaningless. Yet Illian spoke as though Raymond understood something of it.
“When one is young, it’s only natural to insist that one needs neither prophecy nor divine revelation—that one will forge one’s own fate. A very spirited young lady she was, demanding why the Castrain Family should sacrifice everything, declaring she would overturn this irrational order. She had eyes as clear and piercing as those of Bibi, quite vivid and blue.”
“…Regardless of whose daughter Bibi is, we do not concern ourselves with such matters.”
“I am not about to spout some tired nonsense that blood relations alone make a family.”
Illian drank slowly from the now-cold tea.
“I learned only very late that that young lady’s friend was Her Majesty Elaine. Amusing, really. Orto, his wife, Orto’s sibling, and myself—we all failed to change anything in our time. All of us.”
Setting down the empty cup, Illian spoke matter-of-factly.
“So we had no choice but to pass the burden to the next generation. Bibi is remarkably precocious for her age. Someone arranged for her to come to the Castrain household with such a sharp mind intact. I heard, in fact, that one of the Divine Weapons kept by the Castrain Ducal House vanished without a trace one day. Was it that, perhaps?”
“…….”
“This old man merely speculates. To put it in similar terms…… I suspect Her Highness Princess Titania was in a like situation. Is not all the evidence speaking to this?”
An old man who has long dealt with life and death at close hand sometimes possesses intuition that borders on prescience.
“We failed.”
A smile born of resignation crossed Illian’s face.
Whether possession, regression, or reincarnation—whatever the means—if there is no trace, it is a lie. If there is no purpose, it is a lie.
The very fact that a child must gather up even the shattered memories of a ruined life to use as puzzle pieces for the future is proof of a future so dire, so desperate, that it demands this.
“And so those children are allowed to remain children no longer.”
Often, a third party standing one step back can judge everything far more firmly than those directly involved.
Illian was, if anything, foremost among these. A Servant of God, yet not blindly devoted to the God; one who hopes for the future, yet harbors no illusions of perfect salvation.
“…So you’re saying I should concern myself with Bibi being no ordinary child?”
“No. I am saying that I am a cowardly old man, and thus it is difficult for me to convey to the Young Duke the Will of the God—whether prophecy, divine revelation, or anything else—in straightforward terms.”
Illian was fond of money.
One cannot feed oneself on faith alone, and one cannot save people merely by reading scripture in pious solitude.
Sometimes one must engage in petty political maneuvering.
Refuse such work and you hand higher positions to truly corrupt creatures with no will to save anyone. Shy away from soiling your own feet and you abandon the post—and the weak drown in the filth that seeps from that very place. I long ago understood this cruel arithmetic.
So Illian lived knowing each day that the water level of that dark tide rose higher, yet neither fleeing nor turning away—living as though strangled while still alive.
So if Titania stepped forward as a breakwater, he could never dissuade her.
He knows it is irrational.
He knows it is cruel.
But if one person’s laughter were to crumble, and in exchange countless innocent, helpless lives could be saved—if that tragedy could be prevented——
A cowardly and cunning adult could only conclude that the latter was preferable.
“Using one’s own body as a weapon to face Magic Beasts, you’ve been doing quite…… mad things, haven’t you, Young Duke. I would suggest you exercise moderation. If it is the Young Duke himself who becomes a monster, well…… I am uncertain whether anyone capable of standing against you would even exist.”
“…High Priest Illian.”
Illian, once a young hero who sought to save the world but now a frail clergyman, laughed as though crumbling into dust.
Raymond trailed off, watching him.
“…I remember when Princess Titania was foolish, childish, and unable to abandon her own stubbornness—just a little girl.”
So many emotions welled up that his voice became, paradoxically, harder to read.
“I remember when emotions clouded her mind, when she repeated endless foolish acts, clinging to my trouser leg, pleading and begging.”
When children color, layering many hues upon paper, then painting over and over with deepest black—yet when scraped away after drying, beneath those scratches the many colors bleed through.
Raymond’s voice was like that.
So thick with emotion that even the slightest tremor would betray him, and he seemed on the verge of suffocating in the vast bog of countless years and feelings that he had gathered, forgotten, and dredged up again.
“So I cannot bear for Her Highness Princess Titania to vanish after becoming a hero.”
“…….”
“I cannot accept her dying and disappearing like this.”
He clenched his hand hard, and something twisted with a creak.
It would be one thing if the original ‘Titania’ had been infinitely noble and wise, deep-minded enough that she would have thrown herself away for the world without outside influence. But she was not. She was a woman who would have let the world burn, so long as some dreamlike man whispered love for her alone.
She was a woman who, even dead and awakened anew, would never have desired selfless, unrewarded devotion.
“…So then.”
Raymond laughed, dark and bottomless.
“I need the High Priest’s aid. Unless you wish to see me blunder and destroy the world while trying to save her.”
Thunder crashed beyond the window.
The color was as pale and mad as the eyes of the laughing man.

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