Chapter 124. Deception (4)
After Amelia’s storm of verbal lashings, a cold silence hung in the room.
Unfazed by the escorts’ shocked expressions, Sirocco spoke casually.
“See? Told you. Smells like lies.”
“Guess so.”
I nodded at the wolf-eared girl, who perked her ears proudly.
“Hmph. So, what now?”
“What else?”
I raised the staff naturally.
“W-Wait?!”
I struck Antenor’s head, still gaping at Amelia with dazed eyes.
With a sharp thwack, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed.
I touched my earset, reporting calmly.
“This is Enoch. You there?”
A reply came quickly.
[Clear reception. Equistelle here.]
“I’ve subdued and detained terrorists planning an attack on the city. Send patrol forces here as planned.”
[You keep surprising me, direct descendant.]
A low female laugh came through, and Equistelle added.
[Good work. We’ll take it from here. Return safely with the Saintess.]
“Got it.”
As I was about to end the call, Equistelle, as if remembering, asked casually.
[Oh, right. The detainees’ condition?]
“Alive.”
I glanced at the escorts, their faces shadowed.
[Impressive.]
No lie there. I cut the call and turned to Sirocco.
“I already coordinated with Equistelle. Patrols will come for these guys soon. Keep them out until then.”
“Hmph, sure.”
Sirocco nodded lightly, but the escorts’ eyes filled with fear.
I approached them.
“N-No! Stay back!!”
No choice. Leaving them conscious might lead to more trouble.
They squirmed, bound by wires, clearly not repentant. I slowly raised the staff.
I felt a bit bad.
But it was time for forced naptime.
***
The situation wrapped up smoothly.
After handing the subdued escorts to the patrol arriving on Equistelle’s orders, I leaned against the factory wall, catching my breath.
The whirlwind of events had been intense, but the gains were substantial.
I’d need to sort and assess everything properly upon returning to the family.
“Enoch.”
A voice called, and I turned. Amelia approached, tilting her head with a smile.
“Sorry for showing you something unsightly.”
“Not at all. It was refreshing.”
“I’m relieved to hear that.”
She smiled brightly.
…Was it my imagination, or did she look relieved?
Her merciless scolding of the escorts didn’t faze me.
Antenor and his ilk deserved it, but more importantly, I already knew Amelia well.
Seeing it in person felt novel.
To think she hid her true self so thoroughly, playing the benevolent Saintess.
Honestly, I could learn from her. I, too, had to conceal my own circumstances.
She smiled softly at me.
“And frankly, I thought you’d be fine seeing this side of me.”
“…Why’s that?”
“You’re an Elsyde direct descendant. I doubted you’d want to clash openly with the Saintess of the Order, a key ally.”
She whispered with a smile.
“…”
I suppressed a puzzled expression.
Her calculated words contrasted with the pure trust in her starry eyes.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Her reaction was unexpectedly sincere.
Perhaps the events during this escort mission had given her insight into me.
I glanced at the escorts being carted off by patrol stretchers.
“Their crimes are heavy, so they’ll at least be imprisoned. The Order will block any slander they spread about you, so it’s no issue.”
“Yes. That makes you the only one who knows my weakness, Enoch.”
Her green eyes narrowed slightly.
“I hope my trust in you isn’t misplaced.”
“I’m not one to say this, but a verbal promise alone won’t build solid trust.”
“My trust in you isn’t a lie. But it’s also true I have no further means to offer.”
Amelia bowed her head, a wistful smile forming.
“I spoke grandly to the escorts, but I’m still just a powerless Saintess in the Order.”
Her tone carried self-mockery.
I looked at her.
She likely thought I didn’t grasp the Order’s politics, but knowing her future five years hence, I understood fully.
From what I’d gathered, forming allies within the Order was near impossible for her.
And the most critical issue was separate.
“The biggest problem is lacking legitimacy.”
“Yes. You already understand.”
Amelia gripped her staff tightly.
“As you said, a Saintess treated as a figurehead for the masses, breaking precepts to meddle in politics and sway the Order’s direction—it’s a bad look.”
Even if her dream was just, politics ran on legitimacy and interests.
Everyone would see it as too risky.
A Saintess offered neither legitimacy nor gain.
In this environment, securing a support base was uncertain, and only a fool would back her outright.
“Not an easy path.”
“My position as Saintess is likely the worst condition for gaining the legitimacy needed. But it’s my only path.”
She clasped her staff as if in prayer.
Her fingertips, reddened by the cold, warmed with her white breath.
I suddenly grasped the flow of the conversation.
‘…So that’s how it was.’
Beyond understanding her political position, my knowledge of her future allowed a transcendent insight.
She wasn’t devout, and her personality was peculiar, but in the original story, Amelia had the heart befitting a Saintess.
That was undeniable truth.
I knew well how she appeared in the original story.
‘The Pangaeon incident ties directly to the main storyline, as expected.’
A small link, but certain.
In the original, Amelia lost all political influence in the Order during these negotiations, unable to wield decision-making power.
> “The Order slowly decayed from within, losing faith and structure, with skilled healers leaving one by one.”
> “The Order, once serving the Goddess, became a hollow shell, effectively vanishing.”
This had a massive impact on the original’s main storyline.
Because.
At the story’s end, what awaited Saintess Amelia was—
> “Saintess Amelia could no longer hope for salvation.”
> “That was the fitting fate for this world and civilization’s end.”
> “The Saintess, unable to save anyone, silently looked to the sky.”
> “From the ruined earth, she gazed at the prophesied starry night—”
A fragmented tale from Amelia’s perspective, leading to the ending.
Recalling that vivid memory, I touched my chin as if covering my mouth.
The Great Catastrophe.
When the future demanded saving many, the Order had lost its function.
Without a hub for benevolent healers, countless casualties arose.
Thus.
In the original, Saintess Amelia could only stare blankly at the ‘Great Catastrophe’s’ devastation.
> “I’m just a Saintess who couldn’t save anyone.”
> “I must atone for that failure.”
She wanted to save people but couldn’t in the catastrophe’s wake.
That was her destined future in the original. Thinking this far, I looked at her.
“I have an idea.”
“An idea…?”
“Based on what I understand, I’d like to propose something.”
Her slender shoulders flinched.
Ignoring her guessing expression, I stepped closer.
It had to be done.
No reason to delay.
“What?”
“Beyond using your position to guide the Order rightly, you’ll need a support base to make it happen.”
“…”
Amelia leaned on her staff, gazing at me silently. Her silent agreement turned my guess into certainty.
“I’d like to know your intent.”
She asked, confirming. Perhaps she’d had the same thought.
“It’s not complicated.”
I answered quietly.
“It’s the most mutually beneficial path.”
No one-sided relationship was intended. A follower family couldn’t be formed that way.
This proposal would be enticing for both me and Amelia.
I asked her softly.
“Will you join my follower family?”