The great emperor who ruled half the continent had, at some point, become tormented by the fear of death and gradually descended into madness.
Obsessed with the desire not to die, he ordered investigations into every ancient ruin on the continent, gathering their relics in a quest for immortality. He even formed his own secret unit to aid in the search.
When the continent's one and only emperor fell into madness, even the impossible became reality.
This expedition was yet another folly born of that emperor's insanity.
'He's overcoming the illness, but the mania remains unchanged.'
It wasn't exactly a positive situation, but Carlito was confident he could do anything as long as the man before him—madman or not—served his interests.
"Your Majesty, this is Carlito. I am prepared to do anything for Your Majesty." At those words, the emperor let out a hearty laugh.
"Carlito, truly, there is no loyal subject like you."
Believing his words had pleased the emperor, Carlito raised his head.
But at that moment, the cultist mages behind him lunged forward.
"What, what are you doing!"
Carlito desperately resisted, activating the artifacts he carried on his body.
Pzzzzzt!
But the artifacts sparked uselessly, failing to activate at all.
It seemed a mana interference device had been deployed throughout the tent.
Carlito shouted toward Gelion beside him.
"C-Captain! We have to get out of here!"
In his haste, he turned his head to the side—and witnessed an unbelievable sight.
"Ughhh."
Something intangible gripped Gelion's body, rendering him immobile.
No matter how he struggled, he couldn't break free.
Gelion strained with all his might, veins bulging across his body, but it was futile.
"Uwaaaaaah!"
Gelion summoned his aura to escape somehow, but the intangible force only bound him tighter.
Seeing even the reliable Gelion captured, Carlito trembled in fear.
By then, the mages had seized Carlito's head and forced it back.
One of the mages approached from behind, carrying a golden basin.
The basin emitted smoke of an eerie color.
"Let go! Let me go!"
The mages pried Carlito's mouth open by force.
"Ughhh!"
The mage with the basin poured an unidentified liquid into Carlito's mouth.
Gulp! Gulp! Gulp!
Held fast by the mages, Carlito had no choice but to swallow it all.
"Ughhh."
His head spun, his vision blurred, and he suffered hallucinations and auditory distortions.
Meanwhile, the mages joined hands and began circling the immobilized Gelion and the collapsed Carlito, chanting incantations.
The cultists' voices, reciting an incomprehensible and grotesque language, burrowed into the ears of the two men.
"Uwaaack!"
Carlito curled up like a shrimp, feeling the mysterious liquid spreading through his veins.
His limbs shook uncontrollably, and a pain like his eyeballs might burst filled his body.
"Kraaaack!"
The mages' chants and the screams filled the tent.
Beyond the curtain, the emperor breathed shallowly, listening to Carlito and Gelion's cries with evident satisfaction.
"Your loyalty will make the empire even stronger."
*
"A secret society within the Holy Kingdom."
The Golden Dawn Society that Beatrice described was none other than a revolutionary organization formed to eradicate corruption in the Holy Kingdom and correct its wrongs.
Even more surprising was that it had descended from the Dawn Society, where Pab and Laura had been active.
Beatrice explained that as a child, she had nearly been captured by slave traders along with the children of Rubern, only to be rescued by Sir Pab and taken into a monastery.
Out of respect for Sir Pab, she had taken the surname Valencia and grown up to become a member of the Golden Dawn Society. While praying to the divine, the Token of the Sun had appeared, leading her to the papal throne.
Zeke nodded as he listened to her story.
"Remarkable. I had no idea Your Holiness had ties to Sir Pab. Nor did I know of the
Golden Dawn Society's existence within the Holy Kingdom."
"The Dawn Society's efforts to rescue the Rubern bloodline were carried on by the Rose
Society, while within the Holy Kingdom, the group persisted under the name Golden Dawn Society."
She glanced at the situation board on the wall as she spoke.
"As you know, Sir Zeke, the state of the Holy Kingdom is dire. Those who should be the most upright—the clergy—care nothing for the welfare of the faithful and seek only to fill their own pockets."
Zeke looked at Beatrice and said,
"I understand. On our way here through the port, we witnessed the horrific reality. The faithful unprotected by the Principality have become sacrificial lambs to Ork hordes, and those in imperial territory are being dragged away by the Imperial Army to serve as fodder for vile magic."
Beatrice closed her eyes briefly, a deep sorrow and anger evident in her expression.
When she opened them again, the innocent, fragile gaze was gone, replaced by the fierce eyes of a warrior ablaze with determination.
"The Golden Dawn Society will use this opportunity to reform the rotten Principality and protect the faithful."
Zeke nodded at her resolute declaration but asked,
"Your Holiness, Orks press from the front, and the Imperial Army approaches from the side, drawing ever closer to the Principality. If the cardinals and bishops in power sense your intentions and spark internal strife, Vadoka will crumble."
Even sturdy walls were useless if division arose from within.
Beatrice's face hardened at his words.
She wanted to eliminate them all immediately, but the situation made it impossible.
Clutching her head, she said,
"...I know. That's why I've had to leave those scoundrels be until now. But the longer this drags on, the more I fear the Principality will rot beyond recovery."
The complex structure of the Principality of Vadoka had woven a tangled web of political factions.
Even if the Golden Dawn Society executed some of those currently in power, other greedy opportunists would swiftly fill the voids.
Zeke looked at Beatrice and said,
"Your Holiness, I have a way to save the Principality." Beatrice's head snapped up at his words.
"Sir Zeke, what method do you propose?"
Zeke met her gaze and replied,
"This plan requires your assistance, Your Holiness."
"I will do anything to save the Principality." Zeke nodded at Beatrice's firm voice.
He leaned in close and whispered something in her ear.
Beatrice's face grew grave as she listened.
"Sir Zeke, will this work on them?"
"Greedy as they are, they'll fall right into the trap."
Beatrice bit her lip, pondering.
Then she nodded decisively.
"I will follow your lead, Sir Zeke."
With Beatrice's decision made, Zeke reached into his inventory and pulled out an unassuming chalice.
It was none other than one of the Sacred Relics: the Holy Grail.
Holding the Holy Grail, Zeke said,
"This Holy Grail will create a new opportunity for the Principality of Vadoka." *
Chairman Pierre hurried to the grand assembly chamber of the Parliament House after receiving urgent messages from the other cardinals and bishops.
There, the cardinals and bishops sat with grave expressions.
Pierre, having heard the news, wore a similar look.
As he took his seat, one of the cardinals addressed him.
"Chairman, what in the world is happening right now?" Pierre pressed his temples as if his head ached.
The report he'd received was that Zeke Draker had offered the Holy Grail—received from the Fairy King—to the Pope, who used it to grant greater power to the Paladins participating in this holy war.
Pierre and the high priests of the Principality knew well the abilities of the Holy Grail bestowed by the Fairy King.
Vadoka secretly preserved records of hidden histories.
Pierre had access to these, including accounts of Dragon Slayer Terakan Draker and the light mage Claudia Rubern.
One such apocrypha described how Terakan Draker had awakened to a new power through the Holy Grail and defeated the evil dragon Bahamut.
The other high priests and even senior Paladins knew this too, so they couldn't ignore the power the Holy Grail offered.
Moreover, as clergy rose in rank, they gained greater wealth and political influence, consolidating power.
But Paladins were different.
They had to achieve greater heights to claim the title of Arch Paladin.
Many became retainers to more powerful clergy not just for strength, but to meet various conditions for advancement.
If the Pope used the Holy Grail to accelerate their growth, control over the Paladins would slip away.
Pierre ground his teeth, recalling how Zeke had suddenly appeared and upended Vadoka by producing the Holy Grail.
'To strike us from behind like this...' Vadoka had its own ways.
Pierre had assumed Zeke would soon come to him, apologize for his initial rudeness, and gradually adapt to Vadoka's customs.
He hadn't anticipated Zeke seizing the initiative with the Holy Grail.
One bishop shot to his feet and shouted at Pierre.
"The Paladins under my command are already restless! They're watching closely, fearing they'll miss out on the Holy Grail's blessing if they're too late!"
The other councilors nodded, their faces filled with worry.
At present, there was no way to stop the Paladins from defecting to the Pope.
As holy knights sworn to the Order, it was only natural for them to serve the Pope, the Order's foremost figure.
With the Holy Grail, the Pope had captured the hearts of all Paladins in the Principality.
Starting with that bishop's outburst, the chamber soon filled with the agitated complaints and shouts of the anxious councilors.
Pierre, who had been listening silently, slowly closed and opened his eyes.
Then he addressed the others.
"Quiet."
At Pierre's command, the shouting councilors fell silent and returned to their seats.
In truth, Pierre was the most distressed of all.
He commanded the largest number of Paladins, so any defection to the Pope would hit him hardest.
Surveying the councilors, he spoke.
"You all seem overly worried."
Pierre first calmed them before continuing.
"Even with the Holy Grail, the current Pope lacks the power to command all those Paladins. As you know, Paladins are little more than walking sacks of gold. Without the council approving budgets, how could the Papal Palace sustain them?" The councilors pondered his words and nodded in agreement.
They had paid dearly—using ill-gotten wealth—to draw Paladins into their factions.
As a result, the Paladins were wealthier and more indulgent than any kingdom's knights.
It was impossible for the Pope to bear their expenses.
The power from the Holy Grail was fleeting, but the pleasures of material indulgence were long and sweet.
The councilors believed the Paladins would never abandon that life.
But then, someone rushed into the grand assembly chamber.
A priest approached Chairman Pierre and whispered something.
Pierre's eyes widened in shock as he leaped to his feet.
"Sir Baord has entered the Papal Palace?" The other councilors were equally stunned.
Baord Corbaccio.
He was one of the four Arch Paladins in the Principality of Vadoka.