#731 (Patreon)

Succession to the Throne (1)

“Are you speaking… of the royal family’s invitation?”

Inside the temporary temple that replaced the collapsed Holy See, a woman’s voice echoed.

Her voice, already beautiful and warm, sounded even more so in this moment, ironically, during the greatest crisis of the Holy See.

Perhaps it was only natural—heroes appeared in turbulent times, and saviors emerged in the end days.

Regardless, to her question, an elderly man replied with a weary voice.

“Yes, that is correct, Savior.”

The old man spoke with as much respect as he could muster. Normally, he would have summoned her to deliver the message, but the fact that he had come to speak to her directly showed the gravity of the situation.

That wasn’t to say the old man’s status was low.

Quite the opposite—it was exceedingly high.

This was, after all, a man who had once been one of the greatest Holy Knights, the leader of the moderate faction within the Templar Priesthood, the chancellor of Galos, and now, the newly elected Holy Sovereign, chosen to replace the previous one who had perished beneath the rubble.

He was, essentially, one of the most powerful figures in the world.

Yet, even so, he showed the woman the utmost deference.

The reason was simple: his position was one created by humans, while hers was bestowed by the heavens.

The Daughter of Angels.

The Savior.

Thus, the old man bowed his head willingly.

Perhaps overwhelmed by the weight of the situation, the woman’s expression darkened sharply, as if a thousand-pound weight had settled on her shoulders.

Noticing this, the Holy Sovereign—no, Armand—turned his gaze to the attendants in the room.

These were nobles’ children who had come to the Holy City to train as priests. Like most people in the Holy City, their skin was grotesquely marred, with scars on their faces or hands.

Armand addressed them.

“Would you kindly leave us for a moment?”

The attendants, who had been standing with their hands clasped and heads bowed, looked startled but didn’t move.

Despite the Holy Sovereign’s direct command, they merely blinked in confusion.

Sighing with fatigue, Armand closed his eyes—not out of frustration with the Church’s waning authority, but because of the pathetic display before him. The selfishness of their refusal to leave Joanna’s side disgusted him.

Then Joanna spoke.

“Please, could you give us some privacy?”

At her request, the attendants finally bowed their heads and exited the room. The door closed silently, leaving the two alone.

“Thank you, Savior—”

“—Please… please don’t call me that.”

Before Armand could finish, Joanna raised her hand in a plea, her voice filled with genuine emotion, not modesty.

Armand decided to honor her request.

“Understood, Lady Joanna.”

“You can speak more casually,” she suggested.

“I’m afraid I cannot do that.”

“You are the Holy Sovereign.”

“Only a half-fledged one,” Armand replied.

He wasn’t wrong.

The Holy Sovereign was the highest religious leader of the Parter Church. While the Holy City was their direct domain, the Sovereign’s authority extended over vast lands that recognized their divine right. Nations chosen by the Church bowed their heads to the Holy Sovereign.

But all of that was history.

Since the demon’s descent had destroyed the Holy See, twisted the forms of the Holy City’s inhabitants, and erased divine law, the Church’s stature had plummeted.

Moreover, the manner of Armand’s election as Holy Sovereign was far from ideal.

It wasn’t due to corruption or fraud.

Rather, it was because the demon’s attack had decimated the Templar Priesthood, halving their numbers. Many prominent candidates, like Roderick, were injured or killed, leaving Armand’s election lacking the legitimacy of past traditions.

A Hasty Selection.

It was, to put it bluntly, a slapdash process.

This was why Armand referred to himself as a "half-fledged Holy Sovereign."

He had risen to the position during the lowest point of the Holy See’s authority, through the weakest selection process in its history.

Joanna, however, was quick to counter.

“You are still the Holy Sovereign, and rightfully elected.”

“Thank you for saying so. It is because of your words that I have been recognized as such,” Armand replied.

Joanna fell silent, unable to deny the truth.

After the disappearance of Holy law at the hands of the demon, when the authority of the Parter Church had plummeted, Joanna’s presence had been the sole factor in stabilizing the chaos.

Thanks to her, soaring through the skies on wings forged by Holy law like an angel, the Church retained a shred of its dignity.

“The Holy law hasn’t vanished! It has gathered in the Daughter of Angels to vanquish the demon!”

Armand had introduced Joanna to the world with these words, a deliberate lie. In exchange, he managed to restore a semblance of order to the chaotic world.

Joanna, still quiet, appeared deep in thought. Seeing her hesitation, Armand spoke softly, his tone unusually informal to accommodate her.

“Are you struggling?”

Joanna hesitated before nodding.

“It’s the way people look at me… it’s exhausting.”

Armand thought back to the attendants’ earlier gazes—eyes that clung to her like desperate hands reaching for the only lifeline amidst the encroaching hell. Those eyes weren’t filled with admiration or reason but something far more intense, a selfish, suffocating desperation.

While Armand understood the sentiment—human weakness in the face of survival and salvation—it didn’t make it any less selfish. Even the hope for unilateral salvation was steeped in self-interest.

For a fleeting moment, Armand wondered if the long absence of God from the mortal world was because even the omnipotent deity found it impossible to save all of humanity. It was an unholy thought for a Holy Sovereign to entertain, but he couldn’t push it aside.

If salvation were the goal, why allow calamities like the apocalypse to begin with?

Before his thoughts could spiral further, Joanna broke the silence.

“Forgive me… I’ve been complaining too much. You must be struggling as well, Your Holiness. I’m sorry.”

Noticing Armand’s darkening expression, Joanna had offered her apology, and this realization filled him with shame.

To think he had behaved like the very humans he had just condemned.

Armand quickly shifted the conversation.

“No, Lady Joanna… Let us return to the matter at hand. The royal family of the United Kingdom has invited you. The reason is the royal succession ceremony.”

Joanna unfolded the letter Armand handed her. As he said, the Daughter of Angels had been invited to bless the coronation of the new king of the United Kingdom.

After reading the letter, her first comment was concise.

“Rather sudden, isn’t it?”

Her words perfectly encapsulated the situation.

It was as if a punch had been thrown out of nowhere. The current queen, who had led the United Kingdom through its golden age, was known to be elderly but still in good health. Her vigorous activities had been frequently reported in the newspapers until recently.

And yet, without warning, she had fallen ill, and the crown prince, Edward X, was abruptly announced as her successor.

The pace at which the royal transition was occurring was so rapid it bordered on clumsy.

What’s more—

“And in the midst of rumors about a pact between the royal family and the Fingers.”

The alliance between Puppet and the royal family had stemmed from a leaked conversation broadcast simultaneously across the United Kingdom. Naturally, it caused ripples big and small.

In England, where the royal family enjoyed favor, most dismissed the rumors as nonsense or political sabotage. However, in colonies and regions like Northland, where anti-royalist sentiments ran high, the claims were taken seriously, sparking unrest of varying scales.

This added to the already chaotic state of the world following the disappearance of Holy law.

“That’s likely why they sent the invitation,” Armand continued. “A call for unity. The royal family is mired in turmoil from the rumors of their pact with the Fingers, while our Parter Church is reeling from the loss of Holy law and diminished authority… In essence, they want to bolster each other’s standing.”

“You believe their true motives lie elsewhere.”

Joanna’s tone carried no doubt—she already knew the answer.

"Indeed."

Armand answered without a moment's hesitation and spoke with certainty.

"I believe it’s highly likely that they have allied with Puppet."

"Do you have any specific reason for such confidence?" Joanna inquired.

"Sadly, because people do not change easily. No matter how young they are, unless there is a significant catalyst, they remain the same. And unfortunately, the Crown Prince of the United Kingdom, Edward X, is not in a position to experience such a catalyst, especially someone like him."

Joanna could glean Armand’s low opinion of Edward X from his response. The crown prince certainly did not have a sterling reputation.

Still, Joanna pressed on.  

"But hasn’t he reportedly changed a lot recently and achieved some notable accomplishments?"  

"That’s exactly why I believe he allied with Puppet. For someone incompetent, such achievements are only possible with external help."  

The depth of Armand's distrust was clear. Joanna suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for him. It was disheartening to see a priest, a proclaimer of divine teachings, so cynical about humanity. It seemed less a matter of inherent nature and more the result of the countless trials he had faced.  

"…Then why invite me? If they truly allied with Puppet, wouldn’t it make more sense for them to exclude me?"  

Armand did not respond immediately. He wasn’t unsure of the answer but hesitant to voice it.  

When Joanna pressed him again, he finally spoke.  

"Perhaps they believe they need your power to bring about the apocalypse."  

Armand began explaining Puppet’ ultimate goal.  

It was none other than the realization of an artificial apocalypse.  

According to the theories of the previous Archiver, Merlin, Puppet sought to bring about the apocalypse to harness the divine power that would manifest during such an event.  

"Divine power?" Joanna asked.  

"Yes. The apocalypse can only occur with divine permission."  

"Ah…" Joanna exhaled in realization.  

While most people interpreted the apocalypse as a mere demonic rebellion, the truth was far more complex.  

Those who had encountered the Woman on the Camel knew better than anyone else: the apocalypse was a divine choice, carried out by demons under divine sanction.  

"…It’s possible Puppet believes the Daughter of Angels is essential for the full realization of the apocalypse. That might be why they extended the invitation."  

"A trap, then."  

Armand nodded.  

This raised a question. If the situation was clear enough for Armand to discern the trap, it would have been logical for him to refuse the invitation outright. Yet, he explained the circumstances without suggesting such a course of action.  

The reason wasn’t difficult to infer.  

"You believe I should go."  

Armand nodded slowly, heavily.  

"…Yes, I do."  

Despite knowing it was a trap, Armand still urged her to attend.  

Yet Joanna wasn’t angry. She understood that his suggestion wasn’t simply to restore the crumbled authority of the Parter Church. With the apocalypse looming, Armand was not foolish enough to cling to such superficial concerns.  

His request aligned with why he had accepted the role of Holy Sovereign during the Church's crisis: to fight against the coming end, no matter how desperate the effort.  

"If Edward X and Puppet have indeed joined forces, their preparations are likely complete. Inviting you would merely be a means to increase the probability of triggering the apocalypse. To complete their apocalyptic narrative, so to speak."  

"Can the apocalypse truly be triggered by imitation alone?" Joanna asked.  

"I doubt it would be easy. However, the problem lies in the fact that it is Puppet attempting it. He is a Warlock who has survived for centuries through sheer tenacity. If he is the one orchestrating this, the possibility of success cannot be dismissed."  

"So I must go," Joanna concluded, understanding Armand’s reasoning.  

If Puppet were indeed well-prepared, it would be better to attend and try to thwart their plans rather than avoid the event altogether.  

"Of course, I wouldn’t send you alone. I will also—"  

"No." Joanna cut him off.  

Joanna interrupted Armand for the second time that day, a sign of the conversation's gravity.  

“Your Holiness, please stay here. A Holy Sovereign directly taking action is unprecedented. Accompanying me would only arouse suspicion.”  

“Even so…”  

Armand trailed off.  

Even if he disguised his identity, Puppet would likely recognize him. Moreover, it was highly probable that Puppet already had detailed knowledge of their plans.  

Puppet were led by a Warlock who had survived for centuries and had now allied with the crown prince. Furthermore, Kevin, the new Archiver, had suggested that Puppet might have even infiltrated the Holy See with corpse puppets to spy on them.  

If that were true, Joanna was right—Armand’s involvement would do more harm than good.  

“In that case, I have a favor to ask, Your Holiness.”  

“Please, go ahead.”  

“My siblings… I know it’s selfish to ask in such dire circumstances, but would you look after them for me?”  

She was referring to the children of Ark Orphanage, who were currently in the Holy City. After their abduction by Pied Piper, they had nowhere else to go, and fate had brought them here.  

Fortunately, the children had survived the signs of doom during the demon’s descent, and they had not been afflicted by the curse that disfigured others’ skin.  

Armand nodded.  

“Of course. It’s not selfish at all.”  

“No, it is selfish.”  

Joanna rejected his reassurance, acknowledging the truth of her actions.  

Even as the entire Holy City suffered, she had prioritized her siblings.  

Armand understood her feelings and chose not to press the matter. Instead, he shifted the topic.  

“If you’re worried, wouldn’t you consider meeting the children yourself? …They wish to see you, Lady Joanna.”  

He proposed this to Joanna, who had not visited her siblings once during the aftermath of the demon’s descent.  

Joanna’s response was the same as before.  

“I’m sorry, but I can’t… not right now. I just can’t meet them.”