A Quest for the Holy Son

“What sin do you bear, lamb?”

“I do not know, yet I am certain I was born bearing sin.”

“…”

“My father, whom I never met, regarded me as a blight. My mother, whose face I cannot recall, perished in this bitter land because of me. My teacher harbors hatred for my very identity. Now, it seems this burden of sin is destined to continue.”

“Do you believe all of this to be your sin?”

“Perhaps it’s because those who are close to me never come to a good end?” The person murmured, their gaze drifting aside, eyes dim and profound.

****

“Is this truly possible? Do you possess any tangible evidence?” Facing the documents presented by the other party, Bishop Rhys offered a smile tinged with interest.

“How many are aware of this matter?”

“One consistent truth we have always known is that the former Holy See, Pope Marinanco I, was slain upon his throne by the Hero Rajes for his severe restrictions and oppression of the Transmigrators. He never married or fathered children during his lifetime, and theoretically, his Holy Light Flame should not have been passed on.” Rhys spoke languidly. “The Holy Light Flame is meant to be bestowed upon a successor by the Pope before their passing into the embrace of the divine. However, this Pope was murdered, and his holy light vanished with him. Under such circumstances, we should have awaited a new bishop to inherit and manifest the Holy Light Flame, yet to this day, not a single cardinal has received this power.”

“What does this signify?”

“It means that all our bishops are either not devout enough, not worthy, or perhaps…” Rhys paused. “The Holy Light Flame was passed down through a bloodline. This must be why you are so interested in this particular lead, is it not? An event that transpired thirteen years ago.”

“You were the Grand Inquisitor overseeing this matter at the time,” Ilivy stated. Rhys nodded. “Back then, the Holy See issued a directive—a secret order in a red envelope—requiring us to organize monks to intercept a target, ensuring it appeared to be a bandit attack. The incident you wish to inquire about is precisely this, correct?”

“…” Ilivy gazed at him. Rhys chuckled. “It’s not difficult to guess. If this is your objective, I can speak freely and without reservation, especially since the Inquisition has already been disbanded; no one will cause trouble for me now. We carried out an interception targeting what seemed to be a simple carriage, a seemingly unremarkable priest, and a nun inside the vehicle.”

“A nun…”

“No one ever knew why the Holy See targeted that nun, especially since she herself had descended from Mount Caelum. At the time, we didn’t ponder it much; an order was an order, and we carried out our objective,” Rhys stated calmly.

“However, we failed. Someone protected that carriage, and our objective was not achieved; the nun escaped our ambush. Yet, we did not entirely fail either. Later, we discovered her body in a nearby village, deceased within a church. She had been frail, and it appeared she had succumbed to exhaustion, sitting before the crucifix, as serene as a saint, yet gone. We pooled our resources to erect a tombstone for her, and after that, the trail went cold.”

“Is that so? Then, would you happen to know…”

“We do not know whether she was pregnant. At the time, we didn’t give it much thought; we were simply perplexed as to why one of our own sisters had to be executed in such a manner. Nevertheless, we ultimately granted her a humble measure of glory,” Rhys said, looking at Ilivy.

“What do you intend to do, Knight Ilivy?”

“I intend to go and see for myself,” Ilivy replied, her voice calm. “I shall seek the Holy Son.”

“Is this a mission bestowed upon you by the Bishop?”

“…No, it is a divine oracle,” Ilivy stated abruptly. “I have received a divine oracle.”

“Is that so?” Bishop Rhys sighed upon hearing this. “A divine oracle… I’ve rarely heard that term since the dissolution of the Bureau of Evangelism. Your divine oracle instructs you to seek the Holy Son?”

“Precisely,” Ilivy affirmed with a nod. Gazing at the knight before him, Rhys spoke softly, “This may be your calling, but this lead is unreliable. Even the Holy See itself likely wished to know if she had left behind a Holy Son. For three years after the incident, the Holy See never ceased dispatching clerics to investigate. You understand that a child born of an Emissary of Light, such as the Holy See, would radiate power far beyond that of ordinary individuals. Three years of finding nothing here strongly suggests that such a Holy Son may not exist at all, and even if they do, their chances of survival are slim.”

“Nevertheless, I still wish to investigate,” Ilivy declared. “Some matters cannot be trusted to words; only one’s own eyes can be believed.”

“Then go and search. That church is in a border town. I am unsure if any clerics remain there, but I am willing to provide you with provisions for your journey and a letter of introduction for the church,” Rhys offered, looking at her. “Though, those provisions are, in fact, what you transported here yourself, my sister.”

“I thank you for your generosity, my elder brother,” Ilivy said, bowing deeply. Rhys watched her.

“Devout warriors like yourself are a rare sight in this world now. Your esteemed name precedes you: Ilivy Gunethal, the Crimson Rose of the Cross-Rose Knights. Your very existence is a legend.”

“No legend am I,” Ilivy responded slowly after hearing his words. “Merely a paladin clinging to a thread of life.”

“To have survived under such circumstances is, in itself, an invaluable feat,” Rhys asserted. “Do not heed the rumors spread by those outside. Here, no one will erase the merits brought forth by the Knights. At the very least, everyone within these walls understands this truth.”

“…”

“You have all proven yourselves worthy, with not a single one abandoning their vows. Therefore…” Rhys suddenly stepped forward, clasping his hands together to pray for her.

“Lord in Heaven, Father on Earth, we acknowledge Your grace, sing praises of Your deeds, and embrace Your glory. In this moment, allow me to pray for my sister in arms, that Your light may be bestowed upon her. Starlight above, guide the night sky. Firelight beside, illuminate the path. Dustlight below, dispel the haze. Glory within, sharing in Your grace.”

As he spoke, light emanated from his hands. He slowly raised them, and the light, like motes of dust, settled upon the knight. It was a simple blessing.

“Thank you, Bishop Rhys,” Ilivy said, kneeling as she felt the power of the holy light surge into her body.

“I will prepare a horse, a map, and navigational equipment for you. Though the blessing has been given, other necessities must also be provided,” Rhys said with a smile.

“May your journey be swift and successful, Paladin.”