Your Majesty, Dinner Is Ready. - Chapter 81

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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 81: Sanctuary of Rest: The Conclusion
After Dragon Knight Brigade Commander Cassius entered the battle, the fighting swiftly drew to a close.
“Commander, you can’t go alone!”
“His Majesty is gravely displeased!”
“Are you out of your mind?”
While the mightiest warrior of the Grand Cathedral Age single-handedly held back the Non-Organic Legion’s advance, reinforcements from the Rhymes Kingdom arrived in steady succession.
The Dragon Knight Brigade under Cassius’s command.
The Celestial Knight Order, with a Level 10 master as its leader.
Hundreds of thousands of soldiers led by a Level 9 general of the Rhymes Kingdom.
When the very heroes who, in actual history, had subjugated the golem monster hordes took to the field, the tide of battle turned decisively.
— Unidentifiable hostile force detected. Engaging.
— Requesting reinforcement!
— Gaaaaahhh, ahhhhh….
The reinforcements swept away every golem and construct that had been relentlessly assaulting the temple until then.
It took barely an hour to completely clear the battlefield.
Even accounting for the fact that the enemy’s main force had not yet arrived, it was nothing short of overwhelming victory.
— …Retreat initiated.
In the end, the monster hordes could not withstand the Rhymes Kingdom’s offensive and withdrew to their homeland, Golemofia.
Victory.
The Sanctuary of Rest had not fallen after all.
Yet it was not a complete triumph.
The golems had been sent back to the Dungeon, not destroyed entirely.
“We won!”
Still, no one felt compelled to dampen the mood by pointing out that warfare with the Non-Organic Legion might well continue into the future.
“Artein has blessed us!”
“Glory to the victory of the one who protects the innocent!”
“Long live Seraphina the Holy Maiden! Thank you, King of Rhymes!”
The surviving holy knights erupted in unified cheers.
Meanwhile, the priests who had struggled considerably caring for patients with only a small staff emerged as well, joining in the joy of victory.
“…It’s finally over.”
Bartimir, watching the members of the Protection Church embrace and celebrate, flopped down flat on the barren ground.
“I nearly actually died. If I didn’t have this cursed pact, I’d have nothing left but a torso by now.”
“…You have been hard on your body.”
Lucius, whose hair hung down like seaweed, drenched in sweat, channeled Holy Power into the demon’s form.
Out of respect for his will, they left his spiritual suffering untouched and focused only on restoring his vitality.
“It was harder than I expected, but I’ve gained tremendous battle experience and my soul’s grade has risen, so I’m satisfied.”
Pendrick, sitting on the ground, spoke with a wry smile.
— Traveling with Kar must be rubbing off on you strangely!
Astrímia, sealed within the Artifact Sword Sheath, shook violently.
— That was absolutely not a situation to be satisfied about! You’d have been dead if you’d slipped just a little!
“But I didn’t die, did I?”
“That’s true. Astrímia, stop ruining the mood and be quiet.”
— B-be quiet! Being called that…!
Astrímia squirmed in her lover’s embrace, then exhaled what might be called a spiritual sigh.
— Still, I’m glad everything wrapped up safely. Especially that Kar didn’t die….
“…That’s true.”
Pendrick’s smile turned bitter.
“Given the urgency, I went along with it, but entering that massive golem’s body to destroy the mana core was essentially just walking toward death.
— Right. Why would someone who usually speaks in such strange ways go to such lengths….
“His past probably came back to him.”
Bartimir glanced toward the temple.
Kar was now lying in the temporary office of the Holy Maiden in the temple.
Seraphina had carried away the half-elf, who had lost one arm inside the great golem’s body before collapsing, for intensive treatment.
“When I was sold as an experimental subject at the Black Mage Guild, I heard that in certain elf societies, there’s still an atmosphere of looking down on half-elves.”
Half-elves.
A race once classified as ‘property’—creatures held in lower regard than pets.
With the Harmony Church’s spirit of harmony spreading widely now, their treatment had improved, but discrimination had not yet vanished entirely.
“…It is a sorrowful matter.”
Valentin, who had been lying as if unconscious from the strain of clearing a path, suddenly spoke.
“Kar was born of an elf bloodline meant to serve Metererd. So why did he become a Socialite?”
“Is it because he’s so deeply infatuated with the Evil God?”
– Looking at him, he’s definitely captivated by the Evil God. But the real reason he became a Socialite in the first place must lie elsewhere.
Unfortunately, the contempt directed at the Half-Elf that the Ego Sword remembers from the distant past—discovered in the Dungeon ages ago—applies almost identically in the present day.
– From what I know, a Half-Elf child born in an Elf village that despises mixed-blood has only two futures: die at birth, or be sold.
“You speak precisely, Ego Sword.”
Valentin, raising his upper body with the aid of Holy Priestess Alia, continued in a dark tone.
“Lord Kar was likely handed over to the cult of some Evil God in childhood. Usually they’re raised like livestock and offered as tribute, but….”
Kar did not become a living sacrifice and somehow survived to the present.
It was hardly a fortunate thing.
If anything, he must have endured far more horrendous experiences.
“In some cults of Evil Gods with extreme dispositions—so extreme they often disobey even the divine being they serve—they conduct brutal training and experiments on young children.”
Valentin’s face twisted as though the very memory were too ghastly to contemplate.
“All to produce a child bearing the constitution of a Fanatic.”
A Fanatic.
A constitution that receives the love of every Evil God—nearly a curse in itself.
Kar is a Socialite who serves multiple Evil Gods simultaneously.
Everyone had already suspected as much, watching him wield the Divine Mysteries of different Evil Gods.
“Lord Kar must have had to witness helplessly the deaths of the children he lived alongside during those experiments.”
……
A Socialite serving multiple Evil Gods.
Anyone with even a basic knowledge of history could not help but feel sympathy before surprise.
Bartimir recalled words Kar had spoken before.
‘My brother and I were abandoned as children. I was barely five years old.’
That brother was dead.
Likely during the experiments.
“Having witnessed the deaths of so many innocent children through no fault of their own, it is hardly strange that you would step forward to protect innocent patients.”
Lucius, who had been listening in silence, nodded solemnly.
Though the fierce battle had only just ended, both adherents of the Harmony Church’s eyes shone with vigor.
“Of course, it remains an achievement few could replicate. Who else would willingly lay down their life so readily for strangers—much less for the wraiths of the Dungeon?”
Bartimir closed his eyes briefly, then opened them, gazing up at the sky while lying on his back.
When the day’s battle began, it had been the black of night, but now a cloudless, brilliant expanse filled his vision.
The sun burned so bright it hurt to look at.
“I think I made the right choice joining the Moon Expedition Party.”
It was a thought that came to him only now.
***
Every healing chamber in the temple had been full for some time now.
Already packed long ago with countless patients pouring in from across the continent, makeshift beds now lined what had originally been the High Priestess’s office.
As a result, there was nowhere suitable to accommodate the numerous injured Holy Priests who had arrived after the battle with the Non-Organic Legion ended.
“This place is more than enough for us!”
So the Holy Priests of the Torch of Purification chose their ward outside the temple.
A hastily arranged outdoor healing area was completed by simply laying down mats beneath parasols and adding worn blankets that had been scheduled for disposal.
Naturally, while the Holy Priests were satisfied, the other adherents of the Protection Church were not.
“…We cannot permit this.”
Naturally, Elion and the other Priests tried to stop them in alarm, and what followed was a beautiful exchange of attempts to yield the more comfortable bedding to one another.
“You’re all being foolish.”
The office and living quarters of the High Priestess, enclosed by white wooden panels.
I lay on an old bed where the concept of softness barely lingered.
I had lost consciousness inside the body of the Gigantic Destruction Golem and woken here.
“I never intended it, but somehow a temple has formed with only these kinds of people gathered together.”
Seraphina, watching through the window the Protection Church adherents bickering back and forth, turned to me and smiled.
“I wish you would occasionally indulge in a selfish heart that thinks only of yourself.”
“But why do you say such things while looking at me?”
“Why indeed.”
The High Priestess, her brow furrowing, took hold of my left arm as she sat beside me.
My left arm, lightened and hollow below the elbow, bore a new function added to grant it a sense of wholeness.
“Body parts sacrificed to an Evil God through the Self-Sacrifice Ritual do not regenerate. Not even with the Divine Mystery healing of a high priest like myself.”
“You know well.”
I continued, observing the rounded, smooth end of my left arm.
“I suspect my dead left arm is gratified right now. After all, it was sacrificed to save so many lives.”
…….
Seraphina leaned her back against a wooden rod she’d positioned for armor storage.
“But isn’t that a ritual performed without hearing the perspective of the person involved? Perhaps Kar’s left arm is even now railing against the wanderer in the Dungeon, asking why you would go to such lengths.”
“Ah. I was thinking only from my own point of view.”
I turned my gaze to the pure white ceiling, fell silent for a moment, then spoke abruptly.
“Saint. I was born fundamentally broken.”
“How very half-elven of you.”
“Isn’t that rather blatant discrimination?”
“Hmm?”
The half-elf-discriminating saint widened her eyes.
“I thought you enjoyed becoming an object of contempt and disdain, the way you kept spouting self-loathing remarks. Was I wrong?”
“It’s an admirable trait, to transform cold treatment into something positive. I don’t mind it myself, but ordinary people won’t appreciate being spoken to that way so bluntly.”
“…I’m learning something new again.”
And here I thought only saints knew basic courtesy.
It might seem strange, but it was merely a side effect of overwork.
When I worked under that demon-possessed department chief, I’d stumbled around like a zombie with my brain half-melted.
“In any case, I was born broken, so I often fail to mesh properly with others. No matter how hard I studied, my congenital defects were never easy to overcome.”
In truth, even calling it “broken” was an overstatement.
The concept of being damaged only applies if something was ever whole in the first place.
“…In a way, you’re not so different from me.”
The saint whispered in a voice no one else could hear, then slowly turned her head to gaze out the window.
“Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
“Not yet.”
“Truth is, I’m not entirely sure myself.”
“…I beg your pardon?”
“But I do want to say this much.”
Seraphina, who had been looking outside, turned her gaze toward me.
I raised my now-empty left arm to show her.
“Don’t waste time trying to understand my intentions—why I risked my life protecting people, why I sacrificed an arm for those in the Dungeon. I can’t explain it logically either.”
“…Yes, of course.”
Seraphina let out a soft laugh and let her shoulders drop.
“And to be honest, I don’t quite understand it myself. ‘To protect people’—isn’t that reason enough? I’m genuinely asking because it confuses me.”
“…No, it is.”
The saint shook her head gently at my words, then placed a hand over her heart.
“I was foolish, for all that I bear the title of Saint of the Protection Church. I truly am grateful—grateful that you stepped forward without hesitation to shield the innocent. I’m certain Artein has etched your sacrifice upon the Celestial Shield.”
Seraphina paused for a moment, then smiled enigmatically.
“Though you likely already know this well enough.”
“…Yes.”
The King of Rhymes raged that his subordinate had flown off alone without following procedure, yet he never withdrew his support.
Artein had graciously received my request and sent word to the king himself.
Though in the end it was to save his cherished saint, every member of the Protection Church at the Sanctuary of Rest learned that I had been the starting point of it all.
Valentin went around spreading the word everywhere.
“Priest Elion told me that Kar is a great priest who, had fate not been unkind, would have risen to a position of prominence in the Protection Church.”
With a slightly flushed face, the saint asked almost conspiratorially.
“What do you say, Kar? Would you be interested in the next position of ‘Saint’?”
“Well… it would be decent life experience, but I must decline. I still have far too much I want to do.”
There are things I must do.
“To be honest, I prefer exploring the Dungeon to serving Artein.”
I was born by nature to be an explorer.

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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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