The Cowardly Baby Saint Sees Ghosts - Chapter 84

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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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# Episode 84
By the time we reached the Capital Outskirts Factory District, the sun had already sunk below the horizon.
After days of forced marching, exhaustion was etched deep into every soldier’s face.
Yet no one had slowed their pace.
If the Heretic Organization slipped through our fingers this close again, there was no telling how far we’d have to backtrack.
Liam surveyed his troops and issued a quiet order.
“Scout teams, signal ahead. Everyone else, hold position.”
Shadows scattered into the darkness. I stayed cradled in the Pope’s arms, barely breathing as I waited.
That was when it happened.
Cheese suddenly began to tremble violently.
It was nothing like the reactions we’d seen before.
His spine arched, teeth bared, releasing low, urgent growls.
In all the time I’d known him, he’d never shown such agitation.
“Cheese?”
Cheese whimpered low and frantic.
My blood ran cold. I couldn’t explain precisely what that reaction meant, but I understood it on instinct.
Something terrible was about to happen.
“Your Highness—no, something’s wrong. Something’s different this time. The feeling is completely different from last time.”
My voice shook.
The Pope immediately raised his hand toward Liam.
“Wait.”
In that instant, one of the scouts came sprinting back, gasping for breath.
“There are people inside! A substantial force! We—we’ve been spotted!”
A bell-like sound rang out from within the factory. An alarm.
“All units, charge!”
The Pope shouted the command.
The knights surged toward the factory as one.
From all directions came the boom of impact, screams, and the clash of steel.
“Commander, their numbers are far greater than expected! At least forty of them!”
“Hold the line!”
The Pope drew his sword without setting me down, keeping me cradled in his arm.
That motion—the steadiness of it—was so unlike the hand that usually turned the pages of a prayer book, it was hard to believe they belonged to the same person.
“Diane, you must not leave my side. Not for a moment.”
“Understood.”
With that answer, the world inverted.
The moment the Pope raised his blade, Holy Light poured from his fingertips and blazed along the edge.
And when the enemies came at him, that sword drove through them with terrible precision.
Clang—
Crash—
One, two, three.
Three men went flying in an instant.
“Your Highness—”
Liam stared at the sight, unable to continue.
“Is the Pope fighting himself?”
Among the knights nearby, shock rippled through the ranks.
“I thought he only prayed.”
“So did I. Is that really the head of the Temple?”
I too stood frozen before that spectacle.
The hands that were always gentle and serene wore a completely different face now.
Not a tremor ran through his grip on the sword, and his movements held not a single wasted motion.
In that moment, I dimly realized how much the Pope—the man I thought I knew—had been concealing all this time.
The battle grew fiercer by the second. Wounded soldiers were mounting everywhere.
Then, from the factory roof, a dark shadow dropped down.
A hooded man.
In his hand was a dagger stained dark red, and from its blade rose a sinister Dark Aura, coiling slowly upward.
“So the Church’s dogs have chased us all the way here.”
The man laughed lowly.
“How did you know Renok was here?”
My heart nearly stopped.
“Renok?”
The name spilled from my lips before I could stop it.
The man’s eyes flickered as our gazes met.
“A… Saint?”
He hesitated for a moment, then curved his lips into a bitter smile and murmured.
“Right. I was planning to kill everyone here anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”
“That man is Renok! Don’t let him escape!”
The Pope pointed at a figure slipping past the man’s guard and cried out, drawing his sword directly.
The man stepped into his path. Each time sword and dagger clashed, Holy Light and Dark Aura collided like sparks scattering across metal.
“Quite skilled.”
The man’s expression betrayed surprise for the first time.
The Pope’s blade came close to breaking through his defense several times.
“Your Highness, push just a little harder and you’ll have him!”
Liam cried out, readying himself once more.
I stood with my fists clenched, watching the clash unfold in breathless silence.
It felt like we could win.
Truly, it felt like we might actually capture him this time.
But in that instant, the man’s expression shifted subtly.
“This won’t do.”
He uttered it low, then suddenly changed direction.
His gaze fixed not on the Pope, but on me standing behind him.
“Going for the weak one is faster.”
Time seemed to slow.
Without breaking his assault on the Pope, the man twisted his body and swung his arm toward me.
“No!”
A scream so piercing it seemed to tear eardrums rang out sharply.
Before I could even realize it came from the Pope’s mouth, the man’s dagger drove down toward me.
Its trajectory aimed precisely for my neck. The knights around us, Liam—all were too far to close the distance in time.
In that brief moment, strange memories flickered through my mind.
‘I never wanted to let anyone close.’
Trusting people had always been difficult for me.
In my past life, I never felt the love of family, and in this world—this novel I’d transmigrated into—I’d endured only abuse.
Whenever they called me Saint, I feared they’d try to use me, so I deliberately kept them at a distance.
I’d closed the door to my heart long ago.
I never truly opened myself to anyone. Afraid of being hurt. Gripped by fear before the pain ever came.
But the Pope was different.
The man who, upon first meeting, gave me holy water as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
The man who stayed beside me in silence through nights when sleep wouldn’t come.
The man who, when I insisted on joining a dangerous expedition, never let go of my hand and held me close.
The man who told me I was strong, even when I could do nothing.
‘When did I come to feel this way about him?’
Before I could answer that question, time rushed forward again.
“Diane!”
The Pope threw himself forward.
His body intercepted the blade meant for me, and the dagger sank deep.
The Pope’s frame shuddered violently.
The dagger had struck precisely into the vital point between neck and shoulder.
Blood bloomed across his clothes in an instant.
“Your Highness!”
“Pope!”
Screams erupted from every direction.
Liam rushed forward with a wail of anguish.
Even watching it unfold before my eyes, I couldn’t bring myself to believe it.
Beeeep—
A ringing crashed through my skull.
The world seemed to come to a complete stop.
The Pope turned toward me with effort.
That face I’d once casually thought handsome when we first met was now twisted in pain.
And yet, even pale as he was, he managed a weak smile.
“I’m fine. Diane, you’re not hurt, are you?”
Blood ran down in rivulets.
Dark crimson blood.
Blood.
It was that moment.
Without knowing it, I spoke the word aloud for the first time.
“Dad, daaaaaad!”
It was a cry that tore through my throat.
Surprising even myself, the word had spilled out naturally.
Without calculation, without hesitation—the truth erupting from the deepest place within me.
The battlefield froze in an instant.
The knights, Liam, everyone present fell silent and stilled at those words.
And piercing through that silence, the Pope’s eyes trembled violently.
It was an expression of complete defenselessness, as if he had forgotten even the pain of his wound.
It was a low, cruel laugh that shattered the silence.
Renok, watching from a distance, was laughing aloud.
“To think a clueless wretch like that was playing father to this child. Now that’s a sight worth seeing.”
His mocking laughter rang out sharply, cutting through the frozen battlefield.
Still laughing, Renok stepped on the Dark Seal beneath his feet once more.
Black mist began to rise.
“No, cough, don’t let him escape.”
Even as blood poured from his wound, the Pope forced out those final words.
But when the mist cleared, Renok had already vanished.
“Summon every priest capable of healing—now! Hurry!”
Liam cried out in desperation.
I clung to the Pope, my voice breaking as I wailed.
“No. No, Dad. Please!”
Once those words had torn free, they would not stop.
Only the warmth of his blood seeping through my fingertips cruelly reminded me that this moment was not a dream.

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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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