The Monster Lady and the Holy Knight - Chapter 21

“I thought Bayern was quite bustling, but…”

It was true she felt a little dwarfed. The white stone walls were on a completely different level compared to the coarse sand walls of Bayern or Aseldorf, and soldiers stood guard at various points. The only thing that seemed out of place were the scattered campsites outside the city.

“Why aren’t they going into the city? Is it because there are too many people, and it’s taking a long time to process their entry?”

Veronica mumbled as she watched a child sitting by a campfire, their face streaked with dirt. When their eyes met, she waved, but the child’s mother grabbed their raised hand and pulled them back, hiding them behind her. She seemed wary of interacting with strangers. Veronica found it odd to see such caution in people who were supposed to be on the brink of paradise.

It was at that moment that Leon, still facing forward, coldly muttered, “No, they can’t go in.”

It didn’t take long for the meaning behind his words to become clear. The closer they got to the walls, or rather, the more they approached the city gates where the crowd was gathered, the situation became obvious.

The solid brown gates were firmly locked from the inside.

“Kart is under temporary lockdown for safety reasons. Once the situation is resolved, the gates will be reopened. Please remain calm and wait.”

The guards in ash-colored armor repeated the same message over and over in an even tone. The gathered crowd all spoke different words, but the response was always the same.

“Lockdown? So, we’ve come all this way, and we can’t get in?” Veronica asked, stunned.

Leon jumped off the horse and grabbed the reins, pulling the animal forward. As they pushed through the crowd gathered haphazardly, voices of people questioning and protesting filled the air.

“Lockdown? Huh, yeah. That’s what they’ve been saying for days now. Even when nobles came, they said no one could enter without a pass. But earlier, at dawn, I saw it with my own eyes—dozens of wagons entering the city, sneaking in like thieves in the dead of night. Why would they have to move under the cover of darkness if there’s nothing to hide?”

“For merchants, once their goods have been inspected, they’re issued a pass. Opening the gates during the day could cause a disturbance in the city, so they move in at quieter hours…”

“So, basically, if you’re empty-handed, you can’t get in, but if you’ve got something to trade, you’re allowed. Is that it?”

The man who had interrupted the guard’s explanation let out a deranged laugh before suddenly turning serious, shouting angrily.

“Are you kidding me? What if Bahamut attacks and we all die out here? Will you take responsibility? You’ve never even seen a Bahamut, you brat! What do you think you’re protecting?”

The man, clearly agitated and possibly drunk, pointed a trembling finger at the guard, his eyes bloodshot as if he had already lost control. The atmosphere was tense. It was a completely different mood from their time in Aseldorf.

Veronica began to think that crossing the wilderness had been the right choice. Many people were aware of the rapidly changing situation. Had they traveled through the cities to Kart, they might have gotten caught up in some disturbance or chaos.

“You can’t fight them! At best, you’ll just lock the gates and shoot cannons from the top of the walls. You call this a holy city? A place that treats people worse than livestock is the house of God? Back in Aseldorf, we—”

It was then, just as the increasingly agitated guard reached for his sword, that someone placed a firm hand on the angry man’s shoulder and shoved him back. The man stumbled, barely regaining his balance before cursing.

“What the hell? Who’s the madman who—?”

“A merchant.”

Before the man could process the size difference between them, Leon gave a curt reply, leaving the man with an incredulous expression behind. He walked straight to the guard and handed him something. Only Veronica, following closely behind, noticed that it was a ring bearing the insignia of the Holy Knights.

“I’d like to sell this. How long would it take to issue a pass?”

Leon’s question was casual, but the guard’s suspicious and confused gaze quickly shifted. In an instant, his expression changed completely, and he glanced quickly between Leon’s face and the ring.

It was the look of someone who had seen something both unbelievable and long-awaited.

Finally, the guard’s gaze settled on the sword at Leon’s waist. The Holy Sword Apocalypse. Anyone with even the slightest knowledge of swords would recognize it. It was one of the two holy swords granted by God, one given to the current leader of the Holy Knights and the other to the former deputy commander.

In Kart, the Holy Knights held a status far beyond that of nobles or even imperial family. The guard realized who he was dealing with.

“The item belongs to His Holiness. I need to return it, so I’d appreciate your help in getting inside.”

Leon Berg, the knight loved by Kart, smiled.

***

“Deputy commander? Is that reliable information?”

“Yes. About an hour ago, the papal guards, carrying passes, left through the south gate. By now, he should have entered the city.”

A man with a clean-shaven bald head and a bushy beard grimaced harshly. Despite his bear-like presence, which would normally intimidate an ordinary person, the thin attendant beside him stood unfazed. The attendant knew that Heinz von Kraus was actually in a good mood. In fact, that expression was as close to a warm smile as it would ever get.

“I should go.”

“I figured you would say that. But no, you shouldn’t.”

“Don’t start nagging me. I’ve already taken care of all the urgent matters.”

“It’s not about that. I’m just saying that meeting with Sir Berg right now may not be the best course of action.”

The attendant calmly blocked the door. Heinz, initially puzzled, soon frowned, reading the intent behind the words.

“Do you really think he’s fallen?”

“I’m not saying that.”

“The deputy commander was just lost after the incident in Tiran. Haven’t you heard the tale of the prodigal son returning? And he isn’t even a prodigal—he’s destined to be a hero. The citizens always need a hero.”

“I don’t deny that. I, too, deeply respect Sir Berg. But we cannot forget that right now, the deputy commander is Sir Wittelsbach.”

As the name of someone stationed at the Bayern front was mentioned, Heinz narrowed his eyes.

The second son of a noble count’s family, Philipp von Wittelsbach, a defender of the law.

Certainly, the balance of power in the capital had shifted completely in his favor. Even on the Bayern front, his people were everywhere. Heinz was not aligned with that faction, but he couldn’t ignore the politics. The Wittelsbach family had only grown more powerful by forging ties with the imperial family.

Meanwhile, Leon had lost all his comrades at Tiran, the ones who might have supported him. The only one left who could call him a friend was Heinz himself. The position Leon had built over a decade as a knight was reduced to dust in just two years after Bahamut’s rise.

Heinz clicked his tongue coldly. “Hah, how pathetic. They say on Judgment Day, the most hideous face belongs to man.”

“Yes. I didn’t want to talk about this either. But there’s no point getting tangled up in it. Sir Berg won’t return without some form of redemption. That much is certain. At the very least, he’ll have to bring back a stone from the street as a sin offering.”

The attendant was firm. Heinz, knowing the truth in those words, groaned and sat back down.

“But now that I think about it, there’s something odd. The deputy commander must know this too. The punishment for a deserter is excommunication at best, execution at worst. He knew that and yet returned to the Holy City. Why the change of heart?”

“I suppose it means things have become dire. Even a knight once hailed as the horseman of the apocalypse may feel the need to seek shelter under God’s wings.”

Heinz pondered deeply over the attendant’s words. There was something suspicious about it all. It felt like a great storm was about to hit the Holy City.

***

While waiting for the pass, Veronica looked around. Most of the people were dirty and disheveled.

Although she had bathed once in the wilderness, she still didn’t feel particularly clean. But compared to some of the refugees, who smelled so bad that she couldn’t approach them without holding her nose, she seemed presentable.

Where had all these people come from? As she scanned the crowd, her eyes landed on a boy with an amputated arm, and she froze.

The boy, who couldn’t have been more than six or seven, stood pale as he clung to his brother’s leg. Next to them was a skinny brown horse and a bow. An empty quiver and blood-soaked bandages told of their harsh journey.

“Don’t pay them any attention. Desperate refugees can become violent.”

Leon, noticing where Veronica’s eyes had wandered, approached and warned her.

She frowned. “After enduring all that hardship, only to find the gates shut, who wouldn’t be angry? How long do you think it will take for the Holy City to open its gates to the common people?”

“In this situation? Not likely anytime soon. Even if the Emperor shows mercy, foreigners won’t be allowed in.”

“Why?”

“Do you think Kart would welcome heretics during a crisis?”

Leon’s cold words made Veronica take a closer look at the boy’s foreign features.

Gray hair. Coppery skin. Golden eyes. The Romins were people from the Rom Archipelago in the southeast, where they worshipped over 10,000 gods. Their customs didn’t align with the monotheistic faith of the continent, and there had been wars in the past.

But wasn’t that all ancient history? Now, they faced a common enemy. She couldn’t understand why the church would cling to such rigid rules even in a time like this.