~Chapter 11~
Four figures, draped in black robes from head to toe, were being swept along by a massive crowd.
The four in robes were none other than the Kinzell family’s John-Hon-Dun triplets and the youngest daughter, Ivyn.
The triplets, convinced by Ivyn’s words—”If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles”—had been persuaded to be dragged to the enemy’s very doorstep.
Even though they hurried, they hurried…
The square before the Third Parish chapel was already packed, a sea of believers who had gathered since dawn.
“Greetings, believer. How many offering tickets would you like to purchase?”
“One, please.”
“Here is your ticket. Please place your offering in this offering box. May the grace of Flulla always be with you!”
“May the grace of Flulla always be with you.”
“Next, please come forward. Greetings, believer. How many offering tickets would you like to purchase?”
“My children at home are very excited. Three tickets this time, please.”
How long did they wait in line?
It wasn’t until sunset that the turn for the John-Hon-Dun triplets finally came.
The first to step forward was John Kinzell.
“Greetings, believer. How many offering tickets would you like to purchase?”
“Ah, how many are you selling here today?”
“…Pardon?”
“I’m curious how many lottery tickets are being released today.”
As John leaned forward and asked in a low voice as if proposing a secret deal, the priest replied with a slightly flustered expression.
“Ah… Considering the number of attendees, we usually prepare around 3,000 tickets generously.”
“I see.”
“Yes, believer.”
“Then, I’ll…”
“Yes.”
“…buy 300 tickets.”
“…Pardon?”
The priest, who had been wearing a friendly smile, momentarily doubted his ears and asked John again.
*Was it because he was tired from being out since early morning? Did he mishear the number…?*
“300 tickets.”
John took his hand out from beneath his robe sleeve and stretched out three long fingers.
“B-but… believer… e-each offering ticket is 1 silver…”
*Thump.*
At that moment, a deep indigo pouch landed heavily on the table.
“The money is sufficient.”
As the priest, looking puzzled, untied the string at the pouch’s opening, shiny silver coins poured out.
As the priest’s eyes widened, John quickly added another sentence.
“To my knowledge, there’s no specific purchase limit per person for offering tickets, right…?”
“…Th-that is correct.”
Hearing the priest’s answer, John threw the pouch into the offering box without hesitation.
*Thud!*
A heavy sound of something hitting the bottom echoed.
“Then, may the grace of Flulla be with you.”
*Snatch!*
After seizing the tickets from the priest’s hand, John turned and walked away leisurely.
“…”
As the priest stood there dazedly watching his retreating figure, the next believer calmly walked up to him.
Before the priest could even ask anything, the man thrust two long fingers right in front of his face.
“200 tickets.”
“…?!”
“I wish to purchase 200 tickets.”
***
“So, who is the most handsome and reliable brother in the Kinzell family?”
“It’s Dun Kinzell!”
The lucky believer (?) who won the lottery for the tea time with the Saintess was none other than Dun Kinzell.
Drunk on his victory, he strutted around the room with his chest puffed out, arrogant as a peacock, in a show-off manner toward his twin brothers.
“Look at that crazy bastard…”
“Did he use up all the luck he’ll ever have in his life right here…”
And when Ivyn even played along with Dun’s bragging, the expressions on the other twins’ faces began to rot rapidly.
“By the way, what on earth do you plan to do with this ticket, our Bean?”
Dun, having monopolized the youngest’s affection and feeling triumphant, asked.
“To have tea with the Saintess.”
“And then what?”
This time, John asked.
“Well, we’ll chat?”
“Chat? What do you have to talk about with the Theocracy’s Saintess…”
“Hmm, about men.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
Dead silence.
The triplets looked at her with expressions as if the world had collapsed.
“Hmm?”
Ivyn looked back at the dumbstruck, silent John-Hon-Dun triplets with an innocent face.
She truly had gone to all that effort for Ivyn to have a ‘chat about men’ with the Saintess.
To be more precise, it was a plan to find out her ideal type through high-level psychological tactics.
“Ah, the child in my arms indeed…”
Dun muttered, wiping the corner of his eye with his sleeve, looking as sorrowful as a tragic heroine.
“Bean, didn’t your brothers clearly tell you before? All the men outside Kinzell Castle are unscrupulous trash… no, thieves! They only look decent on the outside, but inside they’re all black-hearted bastards!”
“They’re beasts wearing human masks, beasts! To put our precious little squirrel… into the hands of such guys… Absolutely not! Not even if dirt enters my eyes!”
John and Hon, seeming choked with frustration, pounded their chests with their hands, horrified.
Judging by their fuss, you’d think Ivyn had dropped a bombshell about marrying some useless, all-talk minstrel with the ability of a mouse’s fart.
“Even so, it’s not allowed!”
“Huh? What’s not…?”
“After how we raised you, how can this be?!”
“No, what on earth did I even do…?”
“Who is that bastard?! Who is he?! What does he do?! Bring him here right now, let’s see that fine face of his.”
Under the triplets’ terrifying interrogation, Ivyn felt so wronged tears were about to well up.
*How can I bring or answer about someone who doesn’t even exist!*
“Let’s see if you can still say such things even after being thoroughly beaten to death!”
“Ha! He won’t be able to walk back in one piece.”
“The crime of recklessly coveting the Kinzell family’s jewel will be repaid with the punishment of losing both eyes.”
“…”
Ivyn, who had been silently watching the triplets shadowboxing an invisible dragon, simply gave up on explaining further.
She vowed never to even utter the first letter of the word ‘man’ in front of these triplets from now on, no matter what.
*’I’ll talk sense into them when they’ve calmed down later.’*
***
A few days later.
The long-awaited day of the tea meeting dawned.
“Oh my, why are you wearing such a dreary robe after dressing up so prettily?”
A handmaiden grumbled as she draped the black robe over Ivyn’s body.
“And why won’t you let me come along? Where on earth are you going that you’re leaving even me behind like this… If something dangerous happens to you, then I…”
“Don’t worry. I’m taking three reliable bodyguards with me this time.”
Ivyn told the restless maid not to worry.
Sure enough, as soon as her words ended, three sturdy young men boarded the carriage one after another.
John, Hon, and Dun were all wearing the same robes they had on during the ticket-buying day.
“Hey, you there! It’s an absolute secret from Father, got it?”
The triplets shot a sharp, warning look at Ivyn’s handmaiden.
*Nod, nod.*
The maid, pale with fear, pretended to understand.
“You, you must return by the promised time, Miss…! And, young masters…!”
*Crack!*
As the coachman cracked the whip, the carriage began to move with a rattle.
*Hee-hee-ing.*
The carriage carrying the youngest line of the Kinzell family stopped at the Holy Theocracy’s main gate carriage stand.
“Wow…”
As the carriage door opened and Ivyn stepped down into the center of the huge square, she looked around and let out a small sigh of admiration.
The grand, beautiful architecture, the coral-colored pillars and stone carvings caught her eye.
All the Theocracy’s buildings were constructed of pale marble, filled inside with altars commemorating Flulla, numerous monuments, and statues of saints.
Even she, an atheist, felt overwhelmed by the Theocracy’s solemn atmosphere, to the point of feeling a surge of faith she never had before.
Of course, that was only possible as long as the Holy Theocracy wasn’t at odds with the necromancer family.
“So, you’re from the Boutang family?”
The guard who came to meet the carriage scanned Ivyn with a cold gaze and asked.
“Yes, brother.”
Ivyn tried not to cower under the searching gaze and answered calmly.
“The Boutang Count family has a daughter?”
“She’s been frail since childhood and has been recuperating at a relative’s house in the countryside. She only returned to the main house recently.”
“Hmm… I see. Who are the ones who came with you?”
“They’re cousins from the countryside relatives’ house. They wanted to see the Theocracy, so they accompanied me.”
Even after passing the checkpoint and the gatekeeper, the sharp gazes of the guards followed them like shadows all the way to the stone tower. The level of security was on a different dimension from what she had experienced in the underground dungeon where Ivyn was held captive before.
Moreover, the level of the guards was different.
The holy power emanating from them was much stronger, to the point that even Ivyn, who hadn’t received formal necromancer training yet, could feel the difference.
*’It feels almost like going for a private audience with the Emperor… No, maybe even stricter?’*
Ivyn was once again realizing the importance and position of the Saintess within the Theocracy.
Walking with that feeling of treading on thin ice, how much further did they go?
As the tower came into view, the guard guiding them stopped abruptly.
“From here on, only the invited guest may enter. The rest of the party must remain in the areas open to tourists.”
Ivyn had no choice but to bid a temporary farewell to the John-Hon-Dun triplets.
“Little squirrel… if anything happens, you know?”
“Take heart! We’ll be standing guard right outside.”
“Should we chant a cheer for you?”
“Ah, I’ll be right back!”
Startled by the mention of a cheer, Ivyn hastily fluttered her robe hem and hurried away from them.
