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Succession to the Throne (2)

When Armand suggested that she visit her younger siblings, Joanna politely yet firmly declined. 

It was a puzzling choice. 

Although they weren’t related by blood, the children of Ark Orphanage were undoubtedly dear to Joanna, more than anyone else in her life. 

This was evident simply from the fact that Joanna had become a Paladin not out of faith, but to ensure the children had a stable life. 

Armand was well aware of this. 

Yet, Joanna refused to meet her siblings. 

Paradoxically, her decision stemmed from her profound love for them. 

After all, Joanna was now regarded as the "Child of the Angel," at least officially. 

For someone in her position to meet with her siblings? No matter how she thought about it, it was far too dangerous. 

It might sound strange at first, but it was the truth. 

Just as excessive sunlight can kill life, so too could Joanna's current status. 

Rumors of the end times were spreading, the authority of the Holy Nation was shaken as sacred laws were abandoned, and all eyes were now on Joanna, who had risen as their replacement. 

If Joanna were to meet her siblings under these circumstances, the attention on her would inevitably shift to them as well. 

Whether this attention was favorable or hostile, it was far from beneficial for the innocent children. 

Even Joanna, who was burdened by the gaze of so many, felt the oppressive weight. 

It wasn’t difficult to imagine how it would crush her siblings. 

Realizing this belatedly, Armand made an apologetic face and quickly admitted his mistake. 

“Ah… That was a foolish suggestion. I apologize.” 

“It’s nothing, Your Majesty.” 

“I’ll come up with a plausible excuse for the children. I’ll tell them you were too busy to come.” 

“Thank you… And—” 

“—I’ll ensure they’re well protected, away from prying eyes. The current chaos has kept most people too distracted to take an interest in them, so there shouldn’t be any major issues.” 

Joanna sincerely thanked Armand for his adept handling of the situation. 

Glancing at the clock, Armand realized how much time had passed. 

“My, it’s gotten quite late. Do you have anything else you’d like to say?” 

“No, nothing more.” 

“That’s good to hear. I’ve also finished my business here, so I’ll take my leave. If you don’t mind, I’ll tell the attendants waiting outside to step away, so you can have some peace.” 

Perceiving Joanna’s desire to be alone, Armand made the suggestion, which Joanna gratefully accepted, though she didn’t show it outwardly. 

“…Thank you.” 

“Think nothing of it. Rest well.” 

With a courteous bow, Armand left the room. 

Joanna, after a polite farewell, turned to look out the window in solitude. 

The temple she now resided in sat at a high vantage point, offering a view of the Holy Nation’s landscape below—a view she had come to admire in her rare moments of leisure. 

Observing the scenery through the window had become Joanna’s new hobby. 

In a way, it was a pastime forced upon her. 

Ever since she was recognized as the Child of the Angel, her opportunities for outside activity had dwindled to almost nothing, leaving her with little else to do but gaze at the world beyond. 

‘What a ridiculous term,’ Joanna thought, watching the landscape. 

The phrase "Child of the Angel" only became more absurd the more she mulled it over. 

It was a term concocted by poring over ancient texts and overanalyzing archaic scripts—a baseless creation. 

It was a term absent from any eschatological writings, yet it had somehow become the official label for her. 

Joanna knew how hard Kevin and the surviving paladins and priests had worked to coin this term, especially after narrowly escaping the hands of demons. 

Yet, when she was alone, she couldn’t help but find it utterly laughable. 

The term mirrored her own reality too closely. 

‘A word with no roots or merit, yet imbued with power. It’s just like me.’ 

Joanna shifted her gaze from the window to her hands—the hands that had absorbed the Holy Blood. 

Because of that blood, Joanna had been able to fight the demons descending upon the Holy Nation. 

It had earned her the undeserved title of the Child of the Angel, elevating her to the status of a savior. 

But there was no joy in it for Joanna. 

It was all a lie. 

As proof, Joanna had failed to defeat the woman on the camel, and she couldn’t cure the people in the Holy Nation whose skin had warped and turned inside out. 

She had secretly attempted to heal them multiple times but failed each and every time. 

Ameline, who had turned into a tree, could not be restored to her original form either. 

And yet, people called Joanna the "Child of the Angel" and the "Savior," singing her praises. 

Whatever the case, Joanna was the one who had absorbed the Holy Blood. 

However, Joanna believed even the fact that she had absorbed the Holy Blood was a lie. 

She felt that this immense power wasn’t entirely rooted in her but was merely staying temporarily, as though it had chosen her of its own will to approach its rightful owner. 

Joanna thought she might know who that rightful owner was, but she deliberately avoided pondering it. 

Even though that person might be the one most needed at this moment, when demons had officially declared the end of the world, Joanna turned away from the truth, playing the role of a false savior. 

—I’m afraid. I want to run away from here this very moment... So please, stop telling me to leave or go back.

—Then, could you pray for me just once? Pray that I’ll have courage and strength.

—S-stop…!! Stop it!!!

—Aah… Aaahhh!!!

—Take me away. I… I am the Prince of Hell.

Because that person had already endured too much suffering, Joanna ignored her suspicions. 

Even as the world teetered on the brink of apocalypse, even if she might be enabling that apocalypse by doing nothing, Joanna turned a blind eye. 

She simply didn’t want him to suffer any more than he already had. 

Perhaps that was the real reason Joanna was hesitant to meet her siblings. 

Because in this moment, where the fates of her siblings and the world hung in the balance, she selfishly prioritized one person above them all. 

Knock, knock. 

As Joanna sank deeper into her dark thoughts, like sinking into a swamp, a knock interrupted her. 

She turned her head toward the door, wondering who it might be. 

“Come in, Regimund, Alexander.” 

Upon receiving permission, two men named Regimund and Alexander entered. 

They were the scions of noble families who had become Joanna’s attendants. 

Initially, they had come to the Holy Nation to become high priests. 

However, in the wake of the demons’ descent, they had postponed their priesthood and volunteered to serve Joanna, even drawing on their families’ influence to do so. 

Approaching Joanna, they spoke with the calm demeanor befitting nobles, though inwardly their minds raced with calculations. 

“Pardon us, Savior.” 

“...” 

Savior. 

Joanna wanted to ask them to stop calling her that but couldn’t bring herself to. 

Officially, she was indeed the Child of the Angel and the Savior. 

For the sake of the fragile peace of the Parter Church, the stability of the world, and Oliver’s rest, she resolved to reluctantly accept the undeserved title of Savior. 

“Savior? Did we perhaps commit some error...?” 

“No. What brings you here? Today, you may rest.” 

“We were informed by His Majesty. However, we dared to intrude because there was something we wished to ask. Please forgive us.” 

The nobles treated Joanna as though she were royalty, bowing with exaggerated courtesy. 

Joanna forced a smile. 

“It’s all right. What would you like to know?” 

“There’s news that the Royal Succession Ceremony of the United Kingdom is about to take place. Have you been invited, perhaps?”

True to their noble lineage, they were quick with news. 

Joanna didn’t deny it. 

“Yes, I’ve received an invitation. His Majesty just visited to inform me as well.” 

“Please take us with you!” 

Like fish snapping at bait, Regimund and Alexander immediately burst into pleas. 

Even though Joanna hadn’t yet said she was going, they seemed to assume she would without question. 

When Joanna’s expression betrayed her surprise, they looked taken aback. 

“Ah… Are you not planning to attend?” 

“No, I do intend to accept the invitation.” 

“Ahh, thank goodness... In that case, though we know it is a presumptuous request, we humbly ask that you allow us and our families to accompany you as your retinue.” 

“...” 

“Our families have deep roots in the United Kingdom and will surely be of assistance to you, Savior. Of course…” 

“We, too, can serve you well. It’s just that...” 

The two men, both of whom had originally come to the Holy Nation to become priests, hurriedly and at length poured out their words in response to Joanna’s silence. 

Their true intention was clear—they wanted to leave the Holy Nation, a land now infamous for being cursed by the demons’ descent. 

It wasn’t something Joanna couldn’t understand. 

Traveling around to prove her identity as the Child of the Angel, she had come to learn how the world viewed the Holy Nation. 

Terms like “a place abandoned by God,” “a breeding ground for plagues,” and “the cursed land” were frequently used, leaving no room for friendly perceptions. 

In many ways, it was reminiscent of District Z in Landa. 

Even the warped skin affliction that plagued the Holy Nation bore a striking similarity to the conditions observed in Landa’s anti-development committee members in District Z. 

Joanna had seen the information and photographs of them during her assignment in Landa. 

From that perspective, these two men might indeed be making a smart move. 

“If nothing else, we would be more than willing to leave by ourselves…” 

It made sense. 

Escaping before the Holy Nation fully devolved into Landa’s District Z was the logical course of action. 

Of course, while their self-centered eagerness to flee could be seen as selfish, Joanna decided not to hold it against them. 

After all, she wasn’t so different herself. 

“…I can’t promise anything for now, but I’ll speak with His Majesty about it.” 

“That’s more than enough. Thank you, Savior.” 

Satisfied with her answer, the two attendants expressed their heartfelt gratitude before leaving the room. 

Left alone once more, Joanna returned to gazing out the window, though this time her focus shifted. 

Instead of looking at the reconstructed streets of the Holy Nation, brought back to life through Kevin, now the new Archiver, Joanna looked beyond them, down the path Oliver had once taken when he left. 

She didn’t know where he was or what he was doing, but all she wished for was his safety and peace, even in a world filled with people as selfish as herself. 

***

“The alliance between Puppet and the royal family is true. The approach of the apocalypse is also true.” 

In Landa’s central political and administrative district, District A. 

At its very heart, in City Hall. 

Oliver abruptly pushed open the conference room door, stormed in without permission, plopped himself into a chair, and dropped his statement like a bombshell. 

Hearing this, Landa’s city council members and the Minister of Internal Affairs could do nothing but stare at him with expressions that defied description. 

After all, he had barged in during a busy moment and delivered such explosive news out of nowhere. 

Their reactions, while rude, weren’t entirely unwarranted. 

However, their response only demonstrated their failure to grasp Oliver’s nature—and Oliver made sure to drive the point home with his actions. 

“Oh, one more thing. I am the Prince of Hell. Any questions?”