Chapter 124

Chapter 124
## Chapter 124: Never Mind The Heir, I’ll Focus On Healing

Lion cast a steady gaze upon Rikschel and Anne.

Despite their constant verbal sparring, the two carried a remarkably warm familiarity.

They supported one another seamlessly at the most opportune moments.

Their dynamic resembled that of a doting grandfather and his cherished grandchild.

Lion watched them with a content expression before quietly breaking the silence.

“You two share a remarkably close bond.”

“Ho ho. Is that how it appears to you?”

Anne’s countenance brightened immediately at his words.

She appeared to be in an exceptionally buoyant mood.

“…”

Rikschel did not look displeased either.

In truth, he seemed rather happy, though he struggled to display it openly.

“Have you known each other for a long time?”

“Known each other for a long time? Wel—.”

At that inquiry, Anne looked toward Rikschel with deep affection in her eyes. Her expression carried an overwhelming wave of emotion.

It mirrored the tender gaze Elvia often directed at both her and Rikschel.

“…Yes. We have.”

Anne took one of Rikschel’s hands, enclosing it gently between both of hers as she stroked it.

Even though she held the position of Head of the Academy, given his status as an Archbishop Candidate, such familiarity might have seemed out of place, yet Rikschel remained entirely at ease.

“I have known him since his hands were no bigger than a pebble.”

Anne’s gaze drifted into the distance, as if drifting back through the corridors of memory.

…

Rikschel.

An absolute nobody hailing from an obscure, humble village.

Ever since the revelation that his small frame harbored divine power rivaling that of the Saintess who brought an end to the war,

His entire existence had turned upside down.

“I! I will take this boy! I am his biological uncle!”

“Absolute nonsense! I shall be this child’s grandmother! How dreadful!”

“Come now, say ‘Mother~’. Mother! Hurry up!! I am your actual mother!”

“Give me that smile you used to make! Come along!”

Individuals who had previously ignored the child with utter indifference suddenly came forward, claiming to be his parents.

“How much coin are you willing to part with for this child?”

“Let us sell the boy to the Temple together. He possesses the potential of an Archbishop, surely the Temple will not turn him away!”

People who viewed him not as a human being, but as a walking treasure, multiplied by the day.

It was a profoundly disheartening state of affairs.

“…”

Trapped amid that ocean of greed, the young boy suffered deep emotional wounds from those around him.

It was Anne who ultimately intervened to rescue the child from that environment.

“Ugh… It is alright. Little one. Everything will be fine.”

Anne gathered the child into an awkward embrace and carried him toward the Temple.

To be entirely honest, anxiety gnawed at her heart.

Would the boy ever truly adapt to life within the Temple?

Could he possibly recover after enduring such a literal hell?

What if he assumed the Temple was no different?

What if those dark thoughts took root, even while she herself shuddered at the memories of what she had seen?

“…Even then, my understanding was far too shallow, for I once believed priests were incapable of cruelty.”

Anne muttered those words with a touch of self-deprecation.

Such a perspective was only natural when recalling the horrors of that village.

That had been her very first encounter with genuine malice, making her reaction inevitable.

Yet, to her profound astonishment.

“Is this the child everyone is talking about?”

“Goodness me, he is terribly small!”

Anne quickly came to realize that wherever malice existed, goodwill resided just as strongly.

The high-ranking officials of the Temple, along with the child who had held the title of the youngest before his arrival,

And perhaps even the younger novices who would now have to share the affection previously reserved solely for them…

They all welcomed the newcomer, Rikschel, offering him affection without a shred of hesitation.

“Hello there? It is wonderful to meet you. Are you the boy who is destined to become ‘Rikschel’?”

“Please treat me well. I am your older sister now, you know.”

“And I am your older brother!”

“Hahaha. I finally have a younger sibling? Isn’t that just fantastic?”

“Now, now, you might startle the little one, so let us all step back just a bit.”

“Understood!”

“I do not want to!”

“Off with you children, take him outside for a moment.”

“Waaah!”

It was then that Anne understood.

True family could be forged entirely without the ties of blood.

A genuine sanctuary of warmth could be built not through the love of a single individual, but through the collective care of an entire community.

Only then was Anne able to lay Rikschel down to sleep with absolute peace of mind.

And Rikschel, perhaps comforted by those fond memories…

“Well, following that particular day, I inexplicably began sketching maps all over my own garments…”

“H-Head of the Academy!”

Rikschel, who had maintained a carefree demeanor up to that second, flushed bright crimson and abruptly cut off his own sentence!

“Ho ho ho! At any rate, Rikschel-nim grew into a fine young man, cherished deeply as the beloved youngest of the Temple.”

“Ahem! Regardless, that explains the nature of our unique bond.”

Rikschel hastened to steer the conversation elsewhere.

Lion had no intention of prolonging the teasing, so he decided to pivot directly to the matter at hand.

“Haha, shall we move on to other topics then? How did the investigation turn out?”

“Ah, yes. Fortunately, while our distinguished guest drew the attention of others, I managed to wrap up the inquiry successfully. We have identified the root cause as well.”

“Oh.”

It came as a great relief that the investigation had concluded in such a brief window of time.

Naturally, pinpointing the cause and resolving it were two entirely separate challenges.

“So, what was the underlying reason?”

“Well, that is…”

Rikschel cast a sidelong glance toward Anne.

“Ho ho. This old woman has been acting foolishly and occupying a seat meant for younger minds. I should take my leave.”

Anne stood up from her chair, arched her back with a soft groan, and excused herself with practiced casualness.

As she stepped back, she deposited an object onto the tabletop with a sharp thud.

“Oh dear me. My joints simply refuse to cooperate these days.”

She playfully nudged a brass key toward the center of the table using her elbow and ambled away, leaving it behind as though granting full permission for them to utilize it as they wished.

“…”

A faint, amused smile touched the corners of Rikschel’s mouth.

“This happens to be the key to the Sanctuary. Ordinarily, only the Head of the Academy is permitted to hold it, but leaving it here is clearly a gesture of consideration, given that our upcoming discussion touches upon those very matters.”

It was a silent message implying he should feel free to make use of the space if the situation demanded it.

What a genuinely kind soul.

“…Indeed. Truly.”

Rikschel picked up the key, tucked it safely away, and murmured under his breath.

“Ah, our discussion was derailed for a moment. To resume, based on the findings of my investigation…”

Lion’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief as he absorbed Rikschel’s explanation.

In short,

“Are you telling me that the Archbishop lapsed into a deep slumber entirely due to a precognitive dream?”

“That is the exact truth of the matter.”

“And this has persisted for several months?”

“Indeed… Even I was unaware of it until recently.”

Rikschel exhaled a long, heavy sigh.

“He is remarkably elusive in his habits…”

*Is it truly appropriate to describe the Archbishop as ‘elusive’?*

Regardless, the young man genuinely appeared to have been kept in the dark.

Word of this situation was apparently restricted solely to Rikschel and a select few other Archbishop Candidates whom Rikschel affectionately regarded as his elder brothers and sisters.

‘…If that holds true, however, the current state of affairs suddenly falls neatly into place.’

According to Rikschel’s breakdown, the mechanics of the situation were as follows.

There existed certain duties that could only be fulfilled by an Archbishop, one of which involved the massive consumption of divine power, precisely as was occurring at present.

In other words, it was the essential task of efficiently manufacturing holy water through a highly specialized procedure.

Holy water.

While casual observers often assumed holy water served exclusively to cleanse corrupted territories or dispel cursed artifacts,

In reality, even half a century after the conclusion of the war against the Demon Race, holy water remained an invaluable commodity in constant, heavy demand.

Because it truly constituted ‘water saturated with concentrated divine power,’ its benefits extended far beyond demon eradication, proving useful wherever pure elemental or divine energies were required.

It functioned as both a miraculous cure-all and a critical strategic resource!

The core dilemma lay in the fact that this holy water could never be synthesized without deploying a substantial volume of divine power…

‘So that explains why the Archbishop was shouldering the entirety of the workload by himself.’

That arrangement had undoubtedly been the most efficient operational method.

However, with the Archbishop tumbling into an enforced slumber months prior, operations could no longer proceed with their usual fluidity…

Although senior officials and veteran candidates who had long assisted him stepped in to plug the holes, fractures were finally beginning to show.

What inevitable consequence would follow?

The baseline divine power of ordinary priests would inevitably have to be drained dry to sustain the production of holy water.

For the sake of argument, suppose a single Archbishop possessed the capacity to bottle five flasks of holy water in a single sitting.

What happens if that Archbishop suddenly becomes incapacitated overnight?

What measures must be taken then?

Would it not require ten or perhaps twenty ordinary priests pooling their reserves together to produce even a single solitary flask?

‘At the end of the day, the supply of holy water cannot simply be halted.’

It remained an absolute necessity!

Consequently, novice apprentices would soon find themselves forced to step into the shoes of ordinary priests to shoulder the burden, and as those vacancies cascaded upward…

The eventual fallout was bound to reach Peter.

“…I likely would have received a summons before long myself.”

Despite his tender years, Rikschel commanded an immense, nearly bottomless well of divine power.

If even Peter residing out in the Asteri Territory had nearly been drawn into these sweeping logistical demands, then Rikschel, pampered as the absolute youngest of the group, stood next in line for deployment.

‘Naturally, knowing this fellow’s temperament, he would have likely volunteered his services without waiting for an official request.’

“Even if no summons ever arrived, I intend to lend a hand. Just as I once received the kindness of others when I had nothing.”

“Hmm…”

Lion crossed his arms, fixing his gaze upon Rikschel.

It was not as though he failed to grasp the gravity of the situation.

Besides, wasn’t the very reason Rikschel held the rank of youngest Archbishop Candidate tied to his overwhelming abundance of divine power?

Would rendering assistance really pose a problem so long as the task avoided unnecessary peril?

‘I ought to pose the question directly.’

“Is there perhaps any capacity in which I might assist?”

“There is, actually… um… Would you mind if I explain as we walk?”

“Understood, lead the way.”

Lion stepped forward, matching his pace to the young candidate’s stride.

“Righteous Person, are you familiar with the exact process by which holy water is brewed?”

“I possess a general understanding of the mechanics.”

Within the framework of ‘In the World,’ two distinct methods existed for extracting holy water.

The first was the conventional approach, wherein a trained priest instantly drew forth the liquid at the direct expense of their own mental stamina and vitality.

The second relied entirely upon the utilization of a specialized ‘Sanctuary.’

“Your insight is as sharp as ever. Indeed. It represents a technique uncovered during the height of the war against the malevolent demons, where blessed springs and groves humming with pure divine power were first discovered.”

To summarize the concept briefly, an individual of Archbishop standing conjures an enclosed Sanctuary using their divine reserves.

Within that domain, specialized flora is cultivated, harvested, and subsequently brewed to yield holy water steeped in concentrated divine grace.

While the resulting liquid differed slightly from directly materialized holy water, it served nearly every practical application requiring the sacred substance.

Rikschel led the way out of the Academy of Theology, directing his steps toward the sprawling central gardens nestled deep within the Temple grounds.

Blocking their path stood a towering white portal flanked by vigilant Paladins clad in polished plate…

*Screech!*

“Greetings, Archbishop Candidate!”

Upon catching sight of Rikschel’s features, the guards immediately dipped their blades and withdrew to clear the threshold.

Rikschel produced the brass key without a moment’s hesitation, inserting it into the heavy lock with practiced confidence.

*Click.*

Accompanied by a soft mechanical click, the invisible defensive barrier dissolved away, and a greenhouse constructed from a seamless transparent membrane swung wide, silently inviting them inside.

“Right this way, Righteous Person.”

“Oh…”

Lion stepped across the threshold, his eyes sweeping over the interior architecture.

It presented a breathtaking spectacle, one he had never laid eyes upon even within the privileged holdings of the Asteri Family.

The space possessed no gaudy ornaments.

If anything, it radiated a deep, profound serenity.

The layout closely mirrored an expansive orchard or a cultivated botanical preservation zone, yet unmistakable signs of neglect hung in the air, evidenced by the faded and drooping foliage of the plants within.

“Welcome to the Sanctuary.”

And right there in the dead center, bubbling upward from a spring that radiated an undeniable aura of sanctity… pristine, crystal-clear water trickled forth in a remarkably faint stream.