A Saint’s Burden

“Have you heard? There’s a fireworks display tonight near Spire Plaza.”

“I did! The main thing is that the Sword Saint will be there.”

“Of course, he will. The plaza is right below his home, after all.”

“You can’t say that. It has nothing to do with proximity. The Sword Saint is a legendary figure, over eighty levels strong.”

It was a leisurely afternoon, and the library’s grand hall once again hosted a tea party. The empire’s affluent young ladies sipped their sweets and chatted about the latest happenings in Saroyan.

“The Sword Saint Sorold is a remarkable legend. He is powerful and righteous, deeply trusted by the people of the East District,” Lillian explained to the others. “Although, officially, the highest authority in the East District is Governor Busius—the one who visited last time—if anything truly important happens, everyone still defers to the Sword Saint.”

Sophia took a delicate sip of her black tea, her mind heavy with thought.

‘The Sword Saint will appear tonight. Iordera should seize this opportunity to act,’ she mused. ‘I wonder if it will go smoothly.’

“Is the Sword Saint really that amazing?” a young girl at the table asked. “Can he really handle the Governor’s affairs?”

“Of course, he can,” Lillian stated, as if it were obvious. “The Sword Saint presides over the East District, and it is his duty to oversee everything. If that Governor commits a crime, the Sword Saint would simply raise his blade, and off with his head!”

She mimed the action with a swift gesture of her hands, blanching the faces of the young girls around her.

Just then, a benevolent voice chimed in. “Not necessarily, for Governor Busius is, after all, from the Sunhand family.”

Everyone turned to see The Curator, an elderly woman, standing nearby.

****

Twilight descended, and fiery clouds obscured the sky.

Iordera sat on the corner steps beside the plaza, resting with her eyes closed.

The top-secret document was safely tucked inside her clothes. It proved Busius’s crimes, yet it offered little in the way of leverage.

She lacked the means to expose it widely, and the people of Saroyan didn’t seem to care. Even if it sparked public debate, it wouldn’t solve the problem; instead, it would only provoke her adversaries.

There was only one way to make it truly effective: hand it to the Sword Saint Sorold and leave the rest to fate.

Spire Plaza buzzed with activity as everyone prepared for the fireworks display, scurrying about with supplies. No one noticed the small, silent figure seated in the corner.

The sun finally dipped below the horizon, and darkness, like a rising tide, enveloped her form until she was completely obscured.

“It’s starting! It’s starting!”

“Has the Sword Saint descended yet?”

“Where is he?”

Amidst widespread anticipation, the Sword Saint Sorold descended the spire and stepped into the center of the plaza. The crowd parted willingly, forming a path for him.

Sorold, over eighty levels in cultivation, appeared to be in his prime. He was a somewhat weathered yet robust man, resembling a mountain carved by blades, inspiring awe in all who beheld him.

With his own hand, he lit the first firework of the evening, and the crowd’s cheers surged to a thunderous crescendo.

Sorold needed no words. Everyone understood that Saroyan’s East District would surely thrive and prosper even more beautifully this year.

They had such a legend at its helm, after all.

As Sorold finished setting off the fireworks and prepared to return to the spire, a subordinate approached, carrying a stack of papers.

“My Lord,” the subordinate said, “a young girl wishes for you to look at this.”

He took the papers, glancing through them casually, when suddenly his expression shifted dramatically.

“Which girl? Bring her here. And go find Governor Busius; tell him to come as well.”

****

Sophia disembarked from the monorail and sprinted desperately towards the apartment. She had spent a considerable amount of time at school, finally managing to ascertain Iordera’s address.

However, upon arriving, she found no sign of Iordera within, only Nina and Yuna, the two maids.

“Are you looking for our young mistress?” Nina asked, a hint of wariness in her voice. “What do you want with her?”

‘Could this be the person the young mistress snuck out to see tonight?’ she wondered.

Sophia, in a frantic tone, asked, “Did she go to the Sword Saint’s Spire?”

At her words, Nina and Yuna immediately understood: this person was also involved in the young mistress’s grand scheme.

“Yes,” Yuna replied, “she left a while ago.”

Sophia gritted her teeth. “Damn it, she shouldn’t have gone!”

Nina considered for a moment, then offered her a piece of fruit. “It’s alright. You can still make it if you go now. Even if you don’t, just collect the young mistress’s body parts.”

“What?”

“She’ll live,” Yuna stated succinctly. “Just pick them up.”

Sophia had no time for further questions. Since the maids had spoken, she turned and fled.

She could only hope to arrive in time.

****

In the upper reaches of the Sword Saint’s Spire, within Sorold’s residence, only three people remained in the room; all others had been dismissed.

Busius held the document, his fingers trembling slightly.

Sorold took a sip of tea, his gaze calmly fixed on him. “Busius, you have disappointed me greatly.”

A bead of cold sweat trickled down Busius’s cheek. This dual wind and earth elemental mage, over sixty levels strong, was now as helpless as any unarmed commoner.

“Lord Sorold, I was merely confused for a moment…”

“Say no more,” Sorold waved his hand dismissively. “I will report this matter truthfully to the Patriarch of the Sunhand family and promptly bring you back to them for their judgment.”

Busius’s face turned ashen. Having committed an act that nearly disgraced his family name, being sent back for their judgment meant he would likely never recover his standing.

Iordera breathed a sigh of relief, believing her gamble had paid off.

But then she heard Sorold speak again: “Busius, before I take you back, you should clean up this mess. Is one week enough time for you?”

“…It will be difficult.” Sorold burst into laughter. Busius’s expression was mortified.

“I haven’t located the escaped experimental subject yet.”

“You truly are useless, incapable of accomplishing anything,” Sorold declared. “If you can’t find them, intensify your search. I’m only giving you one week.”

Iordera couldn’t help but step forward. “Wait, Lord Sword Saint, what do you mean by that?”

****

Sophia was on the verge of collapsing from her frantic sprint, yet she absolutely could not stop.

At the afternoon tea party, when they had discussed whether the Sword Saint Sorold could punish Governor Busius, The Curator had provided an answer.

“If it were a minor transgression, the Sword Saint would certainly have the authority to reprimand and punish him. However, if it’s a grave error, that would be a different matter entirely.”

Busius hailed from the Sunhand family, a branch of the Sun clan. The Sun clan, in turn, was the nation-protecting noble house personally appointed by The Guardian Sheila.

‘If Busius truly committed a grave error, the Sword Saint could only send him back to the Sunhand family, allowing them to mete out punishment internally.

The reputation of the Sunhand family must not be tarnished; in comparison, Busius’s life is insignificant.’

‘Therefore, the Sword Saint would even have to help cover it up.’

Sophia’s heart pounded with anxiety. As she raced through Spire Plaza, she stumbled and fell.

“Ouch! That hurts!”

The girl, sprawled on the ground, looked up to see countless fireworks erupting into the sky, bursting into brilliant light.

They were magnificent.