Chapter 23
Saint Cecilia.
Who is he?
The reincarnation of Cecilia, the saint and hero who sealed the demon a thousand years ago.
He was born with the power to defeat demons, and in the near future, he would appear to subjugate Ian.
Although Cecilia had been a woman a thousand years ago, now reborn as a boy, people all said with one voice that their resemblance was so uncanny that it left little room to doubt his identity as her reincarnation.
Short, cropped white hair. Eyes as blue and clear as a tranquil lake.
Clad in the pure white ceremonial uniform, he was the youngest to be admitted into the Holy Order of Knights of the Central Cathedral, the “Mediators in White.”
His untainted disposition and the almost identical appearance were what greatly influenced the decision to grant him the name of Saint Cecilia.
When one becomes a formal cleric or a knight of the Order, it is common to receive a baptismal name derived from that of a saint. But never once in history had the name Saint Cecilia been given to anyone.
After all, sealing the demon single-handedly was an achievement of unmatched renown.
Yet here was a reincarnation who had been granted that name.
How much attention and commotion must that have stirred?
If even I, tucked away in a remote ducal villa at the edge of the Empire, had heard the news, then there was no need to guess how widespread it had become.
‘Right… it was this year that Cecil received the name Saint Cecilia and his identity as a reincarnation was revealed.’
It had been only a few months ago.
Which meant that until the oracle descended upon him three years from now, I had thought there was still time before Cecil confronted Ian…
‘I knew the Holy Order’s pilgrimage route passed through this region, but since the cathedral and the villa are far apart, I never thought they’d actually cross paths. And it’s not like Ian ever roams outside the villa anyway.’
I stopped pacing nervously and froze.
This wasn’t something that could be solved by worrying.
The estate would soon be cut off by the incoming storm.
With a typhoon so massive on the horizon, the knights would surely leave town quickly to ensure the pilgrimage remained unhindered.
That was enough. No—it had to be enough!
I couldn’t let Ian and Cecil meet three years too soon.
Even if the oracle wasn’t destined to descend until then, as the one granted the name Saint Cecilia, Cecil would see Ian and recognize his nature instantly.
If someone of Cecil’s newfound prestige were to brand the Brighton Ducal House as harboring danger, what would happen?
Hadn’t the whole reason we covered up the Rosetta incident been to avoid the Church’s scrutiny?
Resolutely, I threw on my cloak and left the villa.
I had been ordered to retrieve a sacred relic, and so it was only right that I fulfill that order.
Then let it be me alone who meets the Holy Order’s knights.
‘It’s fine. Ian’s behaved well all this time. No nasty rumors have spread. There’s nothing for them to latch onto.’
…So why did I feel like I was conspiring to commit the perfect crime?
Well, perhaps it was only natural, since here I was, standing before the reincarnation of a saint while hiding the existence of a demon.
Was it really worth all this, just to protect my golden job?
I gazed blankly at the sky, drained by a feeble wave of despair.
But my wages had just doubled, and truly, I wanted to devote my life to the Brighton household.
At my age, who else was a direct attendant to the young master and earning such money?
Besides, I had already maxed out my favorability score with the household’s supreme authority.
Everything was perfect—except for the little detail that a demon was living inside Ian Brighton.
‘Maybe I could just befriend Cecil and ask him to drive out only the demon from Ian… and overlook the fact that the Brighton House had hidden it all along.’
It sounded absurd, but wasn’t it still better than doing nothing at all?
If I could banish the demon and keep my job, it would be the perfect outcome.
Clutching that fragile sliver of hope that might well be a pipe dream, I crossed through the village.
The Empire, where ecclesiastical and imperial powers balanced evenly thanks to the might of the Holy Order, had cathedrals that were never small—even in provincial regions like this.
Stepping down from the carriage, I stared up for a long while at the marble pillars of the grand cathedral before cautiously setting foot inside the walls.
As my shoes touched the neatly paved path leading to the entrance, a priest appeared, hand pressed reverently over his chest, bowing low.
“May the blessing of Mother Creatos be with you, Sister. What brings you here today? There are no services or prayer gatherings scheduled.”
“Ah, hello! I’m Sissy, a servant of the Brighton Ducal House. I’ve come under orders to receive a protective relic before the storm arrives.”
“You are from the Brighton House?”
The priest’s eyes widened with surprise as he looked at me.
Was it really so shocking?
Noticing my puzzled look, he quickly composed himself, smoothing his expression into serenity.
“My apologies. It’s just that the Brighton family is among those noble houses that have almost entirely severed ties with the Church. I simply did not expect anyone to come here for a relic.”
“Ah… haha, I see…”
Well of course they would avoid the Church. There’s a demon in their household…
Wait. Does that mean I won’t be able to borrow a relic?
Seeing my troubled face, the priest smiled reassuringly.
“Do not worry. The first of the Lord’s teachings is to bestow blessings regardless of faith. Even if ties are severed, we would never refuse a relic. Please, come inside.”
I followed him inward, quietly sighing in relief.
The relics the Church distributed were a kind of talisman—sacred rosaries or censers imbued with blessings, said to divert calamity and disaster.
Though, of course, they had to be returned after a certain time.
“Although the household’s ties with us grew faint, the Duchess of Brighton herself remained devout. She often contacted us to request relics or prayer scrolls. And she frequently made large offerings of gratitude.”
Walking ahead of me, the priest explained calmly.
I smiled faintly to myself.
‘She was probably doing it to search for a way to expel the demon from her son.’
“The offering for this relic was already made on that day’s tithe,” the priest added.
As expected. The Church’s main source of revenue was noble donations.
So that’s why they were willing to lend to a villa that had all but cut ties. In the end, everything runs on money.
It felt a little blasphemous to be thinking such capitalistic thoughts in the holy cathedral—but facts were facts.
‘If the Duchess hadn’t made such hefty contributions, this loan of a relic might never have been possible.’
I silently thanked her in my heart and hurried my pace.
‘Wait… does that mean the silver cross she gave me back then was also one of these relics?’
I’d only thought she’d given it to me to ward off demons.
But judging from what I was hearing now, it may well have been one of the relics she obtained.
‘Not that the cross ever played much of a role…’
If relics could avert disaster and calamity…
Then maybe there could be a relic capable of separating Ian from the demon.
If so, I could just hand the fallen demon to Cecil and say, Here, please finish the job.
Then I could continue serving Ian Brighton the human, earning my high wages and living in wealth.
A silly daydream, but it made me happy for a fleeting moment.
“Please wait here a moment. I will fetch the relic.”
“Ah, yes! Thank you.”
Once the priest left, I leaned against a column in the outer corridor of the cathedral, gazing blankly at the sky.
The clouds were steadily darkening, as if confirming the coming storm.
The day Ian expelled Rosetta from the manor—and the day he himself was cast out—had also been overcast like this.
The creeping unease made me frown.
“Lady Sister…”
A calm, melodious voice reached my ears.
It was as gentle as rolling beads of jade, as soft as velvet woven into sound.
If a voice alone could carry such presence, then the speaker could only be…
“You bear such a peculiar aura.”
I lifted my gaze blankly to see the boy clothed in white.
Cecil, the protagonist of The Sacred War of Heaven and Evil, was walking toward me.
