Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

"So Ellie really took off her mask."

"Ah."

The little girl removed her mask, revealing a face with completely rotten flesh, like the inside of a decaying corpse—a truly nauseating sight. The crowd erupted in uproar, shouting blasphemous and demonic ravings, trampling on the little girl's only shred of courage.

The angel pulled her sinking heart back to its feet.

Raphael stretched out his hand, and a greatsword floating behind him emitted light. The unsheathed sword's blade was as smooth as a mirror, and the gems inlaid in the hilt shone with divine brilliance.

"Nogburn".

The angel's weapon shone brightly, while the holy light in Raphael's hand dimmed, like flowing water.

Raphael cradled Ellie's frail body in his arms, gently stroking her face. With the miracle forged by holy light, Ellie closed her eyes. Under the power of the artifact, her wounded body scabbed over and healed, her face becoming more tender and delicate than a baby's.

Her appearance was as perfect as her inner self.

At Raphael's soft call, Ellie opened her eyes and, through the mirror-like blade of Nogburn, saw her true self. Tears streamed down her face with joy.

Raphael wiped the corner of her eye, his gloomy expression never changing.

“Ellie, my gloom wasn’t out of resentment towards you. I carried wounds that prevented me from smiling. Now I have healed your wounds…”

"Ellie, can you smile for me?"

Chapter 242 Raphael's Vase

A smile appeared on Ellie's face, and behind every mask. It wasn't a gesture of friendliness, nor was there any other reason; it was simply an outward expression of inner joy. In Ellie's smile, all the witnesses clasped their hands in awe of the miracle of the holy light, weeping with joy and kneeling in its glow.

Raphael gently pushed Ellie's back, leading her back to her family.

"My angel!" As Ellie called out, the gloomy Raphael turned his head back. The little girl clasped her hands together in front of her chest, her movements as perfect as her family had taught her. "From now on, I will pray to the Holy Light day and night, praying that the Holy Light can soothe your pain."

"..." Raphael reached out and stroked Ellie's yellowish hair. "Holy Light, I am proud to have you, Ellie."

Amidst thunderous cheers, Raphael and his soldiers entered the church. In the atmosphere of rising flames, even the softest whispers could not withstand the clamor.

"My sorrow cannot be soothed even by the holy light..."

The Guardian Legion, under the Church's arrangement, joined Locarrot's city defense and security areas, with squad leaders coordinating these tasks. Raphael walked through the hall, responding to the greetings of his Holy Light colleagues, with only one person following behind him.

A robust paladin clad in gold and red armor, his white helmet, with its unique design, appears somewhat out of place compared to the rest of the helmet. Some sharp, flame-like horns are haphazardly arranged on the back of the helmet, making it look like a dragon fruit.

Raphael entered his room on the top floor, where four greatswords landed on their respective weapon racks. He handed the artificial flowers to his Dragon Fruit Knight and took his seat.

"Damn it, pretending to be a saint is exhausting." Raphael put his feet up on the desk, ignoring the scriptures that had been pushed aside. He looked like a scoundrel, a far cry from his saintly demeanor outside.

A gentle laugh came from within the armor. "We can't let them down, Leader, you said it yourself. By the way, Lord Raphael, should I seal and preserve this flower?"

Raphael put his hands behind his head and looked at the white bundle of branches in the knight's hand. "Frey, where's my vase?"

"What do you need a vase for? You can't even keep a blade of grass alive," Frey said, making no attempt to hide his sarcasm towards his boss.

Raphael's eyebrows twitched, and he pointed at Frey. "Frey, you! You're just my vase! I order you to hold that flower for me now, or you'll be court-martialed!"

"I...I'm truly impressed. Paladin Frey, at your command." After a brief bow, Frey stood motionless in the room, holding the fake flower.

"Hmph hmph hmph." With the dignity of a superior officer, Raphael began his work.

“Sir, this is not a place for entertaining believers. Please do not disturb the adults inside.” A nun’s worried voice came from outside the door. Footsteps stopped in front of Raphael’s room.

"Jenny, open the door and let that gentleman in." Let me see which idiot dares to cause trouble on my turf.

"Yes, sir."

Upon seeing the newcomer, Raphael narrowed his eyes. It was the noisy clown outside, a bloated, spherical man with a hooked nose. He gave the nun a mocking look and stepped into Raphael's room with a smug smile.

"Praise be to the Holy Light, Lord Raphael." He puffed out his round belly, waiting for Raphael's polite response.

Raphael's response was...

Who are you?

"...I almost forgot to introduce myself. I've been so busy with work that I'm a bit forgetful. My name is..."

"Stop! I'm not interested in your name! Just tell me what you do."

The man's greasy face was flushed with humiliation, but he possessed enough composure to acknowledge a worthy saint.

“I am the steward of Duke Trossi, the lord of Locarrot. My master needs you…”

"Why didn't your master come himself? Why did he send something like you?"

The butler took a deep breath. "His Excellency the Duke is very busy, so he sent me, his most trusted advisor, to discuss this matter..."

“I’m busy too, so I’ve decided to send my butler to communicate with you as well.”

Frey moved closer. "Sir, where did you get a butler?"

“You are now my butler, Frey.”

Frey looked at the bouquet in his hand, then at the ugly, greasy-faced man in front of him.

"I'm just a decorative vase, not a housekeeper."

Raphael shifted his gaze back to the butler, making an exaggerated shrug. "Well, you unpopular sir, you just killed my butler, so I had to step in myself. Tell me, what do you want from me?"

Although Raphael's attitude was different from what he had imagined, the butler still put on a gentle, feigned smile for the sake of the mission. "Mr. Raphael, your performance in the square was quite amazing, but I hope you will try to reduce the number of such miracles you perform in the future. After all, rarity makes things precious, and this is also for your own sake. Especially for those masked people, using the power of holy light to heal them is a waste of resources."

Raphael's gloomy eyes stared at the boastful man, the cold light in his eyes seeming to freeze his life.

"Are you teaching me what to do?"

"No, I...I...I just...just a suggestion. After all, you will be blessing those truly noble people later, and I am worried about your health."

"Blessing? What is that?" Raphael listened to the unfamiliar term and pondered the changes in the Holy Light Ritual that he had not noticed.

"It's an agreement between Bishop Dover and Duke Tracy, though he may not have informed you yet. During the subsequent celebrations, you will be spreading the gospel of the Holy Light to ten noble people, including Duke Tracy, in the square. This is a good thing, Lord Raphael; you are spreading the Lord's glory."

“The Bishop of Dover, and your master, decided on my job without informing me?”

The butler felt a steel blade pierce his back, his body trembling under the oppressive force. The paladin standing to the side, the man known as Frey, remained silent, the surrounding space distorting irregularly and hissing softly; cracks were spreading from Frey's side. The helmet, seemingly ablaze, stared at the butler like the eyes of a demon from hell opening.

Raphael's voice rang out like a savior.

"Frey, my floor is going to break."

"Your will, my leader." This sentence was like a switch, allowing those invisible images of danger to hide again in the falsehood. Only the fine sweat on the butler's back reminded him that his usual verbal and mental weapons were not working.

The butler, trembling, continued his mission, "Lord Raphael, these matters were arranged by the Duke and the Bishop. I am merely a mouthpiece."

Raphael nodded. "You're right. I don't need to embarrass Bishop Dover. As fellow seekers of the Holy Light, supporting each other is what I should do."

"You agreed?! Great and merciful Lord Raphael!"

Raphael said, word by word.

“I agreed… to let Frey perform the consecration for them in my place. Frey, use a variety of tricks to make those ‘noble’ people feel that it’s worth the money.”

The butler screamed, denouncing Raphael's arrangements; his voice was hysterical.

"No! You can't do this! This is Bishop Dover's arrangement! You can't let those important figures down!"

Raphael looked at the butler, who was jumping up and down in a somewhat deranged manner.

"You're right, I've changed my mind."

"Frey! What was the name of that rookie crusader we recruited a month ago? That red-haired kid!"

"Nelson Cano, my lord."

"Have Nelson wear your armor and go and make a show of blessing those nobles. Blessings are useless if they are just superficial; sincerity is what matters. Bless their nobility!"

Hearing Raphael's even worse plans, the butler, imagining what he might suffer, went mad. He frantically pulled stacks of indulgences inlaid with gold thread from his pocket and showed them to Raphael.

"You can't treat us like this! We've given so much wealth to the Holy Light! So much! You can bless those lowly people so easily, why can't you bless us!"

The butler suddenly felt a stinging pain in his hand. He was surprised and released his grip. The indulgences fell to the ground and burst into flames. "These are the indulgences we paid a high price to redeem our original sins. You can't destroy them without a reason; that's against the rules."

“No, this is in accordance with the rules.” Raphael leaned back in his chair. “Frey, what is the punishment for offending a Crusader leader?”

"Burning at the stake, my lord."

Raphael spread his hands. “You see, your money has worked. I forgive you; you weren’t burned at the stake thanks to these indulgences. Now, please leave, sir, who is nothing but ugly. Frey, see him out.”

Bang! A metal glove rapidly magnified in the butler's eyes, kissing his face and carrying him away from the door's restraints.

Raphael raised his eyebrows.

"The commotion was too great."

“I controlled my strength, and apart from his face swelling up like a pufferfish, there will be no danger.”

“Take him to get treatment, Frey, the Holy Light is merciful.”

"Praise be to the Holy Light! May I practice Holy Light healing with our new recruits?"

"You can make the decision yourself for something this simple."

“Your will.” Frey walked out of Raphael’s room.

Raphael could also hear Frey and the nun's conversation.

"Lord Frey, what's wrong with this gentleman?"

"It's nothing, he was just accidentally hit by His Majesty Raphael's vase."

Chapter 243 The Current State of the Holy Light

Thirty minutes later, Frey returned to Raphael's room. The door had been removed, so Frey could see his leader from the outside. Raphael manipulated the four divine weapons, suspending them in a tiered formation in the air. He himself lay sprawled on a deck chair made of swords, head down, arms dangling from between the swords, like a dejected, lifeless fish. For comfort, Raphael had removed the cushion and was using it as a pillow. "You have the time and energy to not know how to use a deck chair?!"

"Sir, please mind your appearance."

Raphael waved his hand casually, and a muffled, distorted sound came from inside the mat.

"It doesn't matter, they're all acquaintances."

Frey placed the vase he had brought with him on the table and put the artificial flowers inside.

"And those new nuns, sir, they still have high hopes for you."