Window of Opportunity

Vivian’s tone shifted—sharp as a blade hidden beneath silk.

Her brown, disguised eyes pierced through Morandi like twin daggers.

“And Deputy Bishop, if all you’re offering are a few routes and a bit of diversion,” she said coolly, “and you expect us to assassinate Charles in the heart of his sanctum beneath layer upon layer of divine protection—then your price falls far, far short of the risk we’re taking.”

She lifted a gloved hand, gesturing toward the shuttered window.

Even without direct sight, the omnipresent pressure of the Holy Light beyond seemed to press against the walls.

“As long as those Light Towers in the inner city remain fully active, their combined field turns the entire Radiant Court into a sanctified furnace. In there, our power will be crushed to its limits—like wading through molten tar—while Charles draws constant, near-limitless

strength from the Holy Light. Under such conditions,” she added evenly, “our odds of success don’t exceed ten percent. Let’s be plain—that’s suicide.”

The cultured smile on Morandi’s face dimmed slightly.

He nodded slowly, as though confirming what he had already expected.

“Your concern is entirely justified, friend of the Demon Clan,” he said in an even tone.

“I am not so naïve as to believe a few logistical favors could enable such a monumental task. The Light Towers—yes, they are both our greatest defense and the hardest obstacle to overcome.”

Leaning forward, his voice lowered.

“The towers are the Radiant Court’s ultimate weapon, divine miracles wrought by our Lord himself. Their cores and control nodes lie buried deep beneath the Cardinal Hall—the most heavily guarded sanctum in the stronghold. Charles’s fanatics—those called the ‘Holy Flame

Sentinels’—watch them constantly. No conventional approach could destroy or even reach them.”

Vivian’s brows knitted tightly.

“If the towers can’t be neutralized, this entire mission is a farce.”

The Light Towers’ radiance was not of mortal origin—it emanated from the very power of the Holy Light’s god, channeled as proof of his “miracle.”

That divine display was also what drew endless pilgrims to the Radiant Court, reinforcing the Rhine Church’s dominion over faith.

But before she could speak again, a flash of calculation lit Morandi’s eyes.

“However,” he continued, “there might be a way—not to destroy them, but to… take advantage of their own maintenance cycle.”

He smiled faintly. “The Light Towers are not perpetual. Their power must undergo periodic synchronization and adjustment to keep the great barrier stable. During that calibration, there exists a very brief—yet unavoidable—window.”

“…A window?” Vivian echoed, eyes narrowing.

“Correct.” Morandi nodded.

“In three days’ time, at sunset, an astral alignment will occur—the phenomenon known as Twin Stars and the Moon. During this, the towers’ energy flows must be recalibrated with the celestial light. The process lasts precisely a quarter of an hour.”

“In that span, tower output will drop by roughly half, weakening its suppression and detection sensitivity—especially in outer zones.”

His eyes glimmered.

“That will be your only chance. I’ll supply you with Charles’s exact location during that interval. By the schedule, he should be within the Sanctified Corridor—an outer precinct, where the tower’s influence is already lighter. During the window, suppression there reaches its lowest point.”

“…Still insufficient.”

Vivian rubbed at her chin thoughtfully before speaking again.

Morandi blinked. “Insufficient?”

“Not enough,” she affirmed calmly.

“The field’s drop, even at its weakest, will cut perhaps forty percent of its strength—maybe less,” she said.

“Don’t forget, Charles won’t be alone. We’ll also have to contend with the Daughter of Light… Lucia.”

Her voice darkened.

“And a fifteen-minute window is far too short. We must breach the perimeter, reach Charles, deliver the kill, and withdraw before he can summon any angelic constructs or his guard. One second’s delay, and we’ll be surrounded—trapped in a divine cage.”

“…You’re quite right,” Morandi admitted softly after a pause.

“We need one of those Light Towers shut down entirely,” Vivian said coolly—so matter-of-factly that it froze the air between them.

“W–what?”

Morandi’s composure cracked for the first time, his calm façade faltering.

“To reduce output is already the limit of what we can attempt,” he said sharply. “To shut one down, even for an instant, would be blasphemy against the Lord himself!”

‘Oh?’ Vivian thought dryly. ‘And yet murdering your fellow clergy isn’t?’

She didn’t say it aloud.

“Then if blasphemy frightens you,” she said lightly, “so be it. If we fail, it only means we tried—and survived. But tell me, Deputy Bishop… when Charles emerges from an attempted assassination alive, can you imagine how much higher his sanctified prestige will soar?”

Her words struck home.

For the first time, Morandi fell utterly silent.

In truth, she was right—if the assassination failed, the Church would anoint Charles as a living miracle. His power, and those who followed him, would ascend beyond restraint.

“I see.”

At last, after several minutes of stillness, Morandi exhaled a long, heavy breath.

When he looked up again, resolve and resignation mingled in his expression.

“We’ll do everything within our reach. One tower—temporarily disabled. Accidents in maintenance happen, after all.”

He straightened his posture, voice regaining composure.

“And that’s not all. I’ll also provide other forms of support.”

“First, the blueprint for a secure and forgotten route—a hidden underground passage leading near the Sanctified Corridor. It predates the current fortress, long since erased from the official archives, bypassing most patrol sectors and detection wards.”

“Second,” he continued, “on the day of the operation, I’ll manufacture a distraction. I’ll claim the discovery of heretical activity and deploy a portion of my city guards to another district, far from the Corridor. It will draw away a significant number of defenders.”

“Lastly…” Morandi took a long breath, as if bracing against repentance.

“I’ll manually destabilize several minor barrier nodes near the Sanctified Corridor, introducing controlled interference. It won’t compromise the central barrier, but it should further reduce local suppression by another five percent.”

A timed window, a secret passage, a diversionary riot, localized barrier disruption—and even the shutdown of a Light Tower.

It was a formidable stack of concessions.

This time, Vivian could finally accept it.

Only now did the odds of killing Saint Charles rise from hopeless to possible.