🔊 TTS Settings
chapter 48
A bishop is the head of a diocese—one who oversees all the churches and believers within a single city or its surrounding area.
That Bishop Patrick of Zeroprime was able to plant bombs in the bodies of so many priests as a spy for the Demon King’s army was only possible because of the immense authority and power he held.
Even though Isabel might have been ignorant of worldly affairs, she at least understood as well as any priest how the Church operated—its systems, its hierarchy. Because of that—
“I’m simply honored you came in person, Deputy of the Archangel. I must apologize for troubling the sacred vessel of a Guardian Angel to come all this way.”
The sight of a diocesan bishop acting so deferentially left Isabel speechless.
In the first cycle, Isabel had only been elevated to Saint after enduring the Undead Parade and receiving the Stigmata. By that point, nearly every other priest had already died.
In other words, Isabel had never once been treated with such respect—neither as a Saint nor as the Archangel’s Deputy.
She stared blankly at the welcome banner hanging above, then shifted her gaze toward Evan—there was nowhere else to look. It wasn’t just Evan; all the other priests were staring at her with the same awe and reverence.
“So that’s her…”
“She’s so young… and yet a Deputy of the Archangel…”
Hearing their whispers, Isabel felt a long-forgotten emotion stirring in her chest—pressure.
Just as she was thinking she’d rather go back to Sister Liz and Uncle Denk, someone approached from behind, armor clinking with every step—a person who might help her… or make her situation even worse.
Lyster LeMé.
The Captain of Zeronis stopped beside Isabel and muttered in a low voice:
“Maintain your dignity.”
Because of the difference in their height, he had to lower his tone just enough for only Isabel to hear.
But that small courtesy was wasted.
“Huh? What did you say?”
Isabel asked aloud—quite loudly, in fact.
Lyster’s face contorted. He glanced toward Evan, who stood waiting by the church entrance, then muttered again, a bit more firmly.
“Show the dignity befitting your station. If you truly are the Archangel’s Deputy.”
“Dignity?”
This time, Isabel said it loud enough for Evan to hear too. Lyster wanted nothing more than to grab someone and scream in frustration.
“Evan might be eccentric, but he’s still fulfilling his duty as a bishop. That welcome isn’t just for you—it’s for me as well. Conduct yourself accordingly.”
Isabel glared at him briefly.
She still felt uneasy around Lyster—not only was he the master of the Holy Sword, but she had also been scolded by Liz earlier for causing trouble outside. Still, she couldn’t deny he was right.
The banner only said, “Welcome, Deputy,” not “Welcome, Isabel.”
So Isabel decided to take his advice. She straightened her back, summoned every ounce of “dignity” she could muster, and began walking toward Evan—convinced she now looked regal and composed.
Lyster pressed a hand to his forehead.
Ridiculous. Does she really think clenching her face and walking stiffly makes her look dignified? And that fool is the Archangel’s Deputy?
He stared at her in disbelief before walking past her toward Evan.
Since he had already introduced himself earlier, Lyster spoke casually.
“It seems Sister Isabel is surprised. This is likely her first time receiving such a passionate welcome as the Deputy.”
“Ah! Of course. My apologies for startling you, Deputy.”
“As I’ve said before, Bishop, being a Deputy doesn’t place me above you in rank. Please, speak comfortably.”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly! All our priests are deeply grateful to you and to the entire Zeronis unit.”
Evan waved his hands as if the idea was absurd.
Lyster understood well why Evan was being so welcoming. True, Evan was naturally enthusiastic—but more importantly, Lyster had done much for this city.
Everyone knew the Inquisition Unit by reputation, and it was normal to fear them. But for Castletina, a city attacked two or three times a year by golems, the existence of a powerful combat force like Zeronis was nothing but a blessing.
Moreover, their achievements were credited to Castletina’s Church, meaning—to Evan himself. He had every reason to welcome Lyster warmly.
And more than that—Evan was still thrilled after witnessing Isabel’s divine holy barrier that had covered the entire city earlier. Spreading his arms, he exclaimed joyfully:
“That was truly magnificent, Deputy Isabel! With the hammer of Saint Michael that smites all evil, and—”
“—The shield of Saint Smiel,” she corrected softly.
“Ah, yes! The shield of Smiel, which protects against all harm! With such blessings, no citizen of this city will be hurt during the defense! You are treasures not only of the Holy Faith, but of the entire world! Glory to Lady Sunia and all the angels for sending you here!”
Even as he praised her, Isabel continued straining her face, trying to look dignified. It was awkward to watch, but Evan somehow found it inspiring.
“Now, please, come inside! We’ve prepared food and lodging for you. Over dinner, you must tell us all about the great deed you achieved in Lettina!”
“Of course!”
Isabel responded in the most “majestic” tone she could muster.
But—
“…A great deed?”
Lyster stretched out his arm, stopping her mid-step. Suspicion clouded his voice.
“Ah, you haven’t heard, have you, Deputy Lyster?”
Pointing proudly at Isabel, Evan spoke in an excited voice.
“Deputy Isabel recently discovered the Holy Sword in Lettina! Not only that, she found its rightful owner—and gained the sword’s acknowledgment! Finding the Holy Sword, lost since the Demon King’s death, and recognizing the next Hero—no priest in history has ever achieved such a feat! How could we not honor her?”
“The Holy Sword? Isabel… is that true?”
Lyster leaned in so close it looked like he might grab her collar. His face twitched with barely restrained emotion.
“Answer me yourself. Is what he said true?”
“It’s true~” Isabel said brightly, thinking of Marcel, who was probably enduring Goat’s hellish training alongside Dyke. Her voice carried genuine joy.
That joy felt like mockery to Lyster.
“So… you found the Holy Sword in Lettina, and handed it to its rightful owner? Is that correct?”
“Yes!”
“And you think the rightful owner isn’t Lady Sunia, but—who exactly?”
“Sir Marcel!”
“Marcel? Is he a believer? A priest? A holy knight?”
Isabel almost said “hero,” but caught herself just in time. After a brief pause, she declared:
“Before pulling out the sword, he was a mudrock!”
“…A what?”
“It means ‘mud scavenger.’ People who dig under rivers looking for usable things—they’re called mudrocks.”
Lyster grabbed Isabel by the collar.
The priests who had gathered to welcome them gasped in horror. At a gesture from the assistant bishop, they all hurried back into the church, leaving only Evan and Lyster behind.
Evan, pale-faced, shouted in shock, but Lyster ignored him, glaring fiercely at Isabel.
“You mean to tell me you let some beggar from that filthy city pull the Holy Sword? Is that true?!”
“Mudrocks aren’t beggars, Mr. Lyster,” Isabel said evenly, keeping the same strained “dignified” expression.
“Sir Marcel will become the Hero.”
Lyster almost exploded but forced himself to breathe. His hand trembled with rage as he held her robe.
Then, lowering his voice, he asked coldly:
“Are you out of your mind?”
“No.”
“Don’t joke with me. You really believed that was right? You call yourself a priest of the same Holy Church as I?”
“But Mr. Lyster, Smiel said the same thing—that Sir Marcel was meant to be the Holy Sword’s master. Even before I entered Lettina.”
“…!”
A chill went down Lyster’s spine.
Even he, a faithful Deputy of the Archangel Michael, rarely received direct messages from his patron.
And yet, this girl spoke of her Archangel as if she were chatting with a friend—as if divine communication were an everyday thing.
He couldn’t believe it.
“Does your Guardian Angel… really speak to you so easily?”
“Yes!”
“Then why… not to me…”
He loosened his grip, muttering bitterly.
Isabel straightened her robe, then glared at him.
“You stretched my clothes!”
“Silence!”
Lyster breathed heavily. His head throbbed with heat, and if he didn’t calm down soon, he felt he might lose control.
Maybe she was a fraud, he thought. Maybe Isabel was just pretending to be a Deputy, claiming divine authority she didn’t have.
After all, even he—also a true Deputy—had never spoken with his Archangel as freely as she claimed.
And yet… the divine power she displayed earlier was real. That could only mean one thing: she was indeed chosen.
“Then why… why will you not come to me, Lord Michael…”
Muttering bitterly, Lyster turned away.
“Deputy Lyster! Weren’t you staying at the church?”
“Not this time… I’ll stay with my troops.”
Leaving Evan’s call behind, Lyster exited the church.
Evan, looking troubled, turned to Isabel and asked what had just happened. It didn’t seem like they’d met for the first time, and he wondered if the barrier she’d cast earlier was also due to some conflict between them.
Isabel waited, hoping for Smiel’s voice to explain, but no message or quest came.
So the burden of explanation fell entirely on her.
Sweating nervously, Isabel began explaining everything to Evan—though it was hardly her strong suit.
***
“You’re cruel, you know.”
Yuga said, glaring at me. The moment our eyes met, he turned away sharply.
“What is?”
“You sent my master to someone who takes pride in being a Deputy of the Archangel. That’s cruel.”
I didn’t respond right away.
With a sigh, Yuga flopped back onto the prison bed, as if done talking.
At this point, even his sulky attitude felt almost… familiar.
But this time, he was right.
What I did was cruel.
Because it shook someone’s faith.
Both Isabel and Lyster are Deputies of Guardian Angels, but their circumstances are vastly different.
To someone as stern and disciplined as Lyster, Isabel must look frivolous—and she actually is, in a way.
Learning that someone like her possessed far greater holy power than himself, and even spoke freely with her Archangel—of course it would torment him.
But I had no choice. It had to be done.
In the first timeline, Lyster was powerful—but arrogant.
In The Old Tale, there were only two Deputies left alive, and the other had already died of age.
As the sole living Deputy on the continent, blessed with overwhelming power and revered everywhere he went, Lyster had become conceited.
Even heretics and the Demon King’s army trembled at his name. His Zeronis subordinates were fiercely loyal.
And so he became arrogant.
That’s why, in the first cycle, he challenged Marcel to test his worth as a Hero.
He was indeed strong—the only person in The Old Tale capable of clashing swords with the Demon King without a Holy Sword.
But his overconfidence killed him.
He fought alone, outside the Allied Forces, and was cut down by Dyke’s Demon Sword.
Even though Isabel has regressed, if they hadn’t met here in Castletina, his fate would likely have been the same again.
That’s why their meeting here is a miracle.
Isabel is the only one—being both his opposite in nature and his equal as a Deputy—who might humble him.
It will be difficult for her, but… I’ll have to keep bringing them together.
Of course, the moment Lyster discovers her Demon Sword, she’ll be killed—so that must stay hidden at all costs.
I’ve given Isabel a painful mission. I hope, one day, she understands why.
“Sigh…”
This is hard.
Yuga called me cruel earlier.
Maybe he was right. Maybe everything I’ve done—and everything I’m about to do—looks cruel even to a Demon Sword.
Is that because I’ve become numb to compassion as an angel?
Or because this cruelty is, in fact, very human?
I don’t know anymore.
“Yuga.”
“…”
“Yuga.”
“If you have something to say, just say it. Since when do you care about my consent?”
Sharp. And weary. That tone again.
Earlier today, I asked Yuga whether he really had any reason to resurrect the Demon King—and offered to free him if he gave up that obsession. Clearly, that question still stung.
After all, Yuga only exists because the Demon King’s corruption tainted the Holy Sword, granting it will and self-awareness. To him, the Demon King is like a parent.
So when I denied that purpose—resurrecting his “parent”—of course it left a scar.
But I can’t just say, “You’re right. Let’s bring the Demon King back.”
That’s impossible. This bitterness between us will remain.
And truthfully, Yuga still wants Isabel dead.
This entire situation is absurd—we’re forced to live in the same space while being inherently incompatible.
How long will this last?
No matter how I think about it, I find no answer. So instead, I decide to ask what’s been nagging me.
“Yuga.”
“I said just talk. I’m listening.”
“Do you… sympathize with Lyster?”
“Are you picking a fight?”
“Sorry if it sounded that way.”
Yuga flinched.
Yes—this was my thought.
When Yuga called me cruel, maybe he wasn’t just referring to Lyster’s suffering. Maybe, to him, my questioning of his own beliefs—his devotion to the Demon King—was the same cruelty I’d shown Lyster.
He pretends otherwise, but I think I’m right.
“That’s the first time I’ve heard you apologize,” Yuga muttered.
“Oh, really?”
“Sympathize? How amusing. I’m a Demon Sword. Why would I sympathize with a human?”
“I wouldn’t know. I’m an angel.”
“Then stay ignorant forever.”
“Ah, no, I don’t want that.”
At that, Yuga shot up from the bed, glaring daggers at me.
“Then what do you want? Another threat?”
“You don’t need to answer. Just teach me more demon-sword techniques.”
“Ha! At a time like this?”
“I’ll lift your restriction. Temporarily.”
A flash sparked in Yuga’s eyes.
Yes—that offer was irresistible.
I have to work with him, after all.
If Isabel’s journey is to succeed, I’ll need even the Demon Sword’s power.
So I’ll keep using Yuga—asking questions that shake him, pretending to match his tone—extracting everything I can.
Maybe that’s cruelty born of being an angel.
Or maybe… it’s just human cruelty.
I don’t know anymore.
“…You think I’ll fall for that?”
“If you don’t want to, keep sulking.”
“N-no, wait! You’re serious, right? Promise?”
I nodded.
A wicked smile spread across Yuga’s face.
