The Sanctuary’s Feast and Whispers of Intrigue

The banquet table, stretching beyond the eye’s reach, was draped in luxurious golden embroidered silk.

Several rows of ornate silver dinner plates, catching the radiance of an oversized crystal chandelier suspended overhead, formed a shimmering ribbon of light across its surface.

Four such tables, two long and two short, were arranged precisely to form a grand square seating arrangement.

Attendants, clad in their neatly fitted, unadorned uniforms, glided through the hall, presenting steaming platters of main courses to the eager guests.

“What a magnificent spread……”

Glazed with honey, the colossal dragon ribs, bathed in the flickering firelight, shimmered with a beautiful, rich sheen from their thickened sauce.

Nearby, vibrant red lamprey fish jelly, translucent and exquisitely gelatinous, quivered enticingly on its platter, beckoning one to carve a slice with a dining knife and savor its unique texture.

An emerald-hued thick soup, its true ingredients a mystery, pulsed with aromatic steam, swirling and bubbling within its tureen; remarkably, the rising effervescent bubbles caught the light, refracting into miniature rainbows.

Saranya’s eyes sparkled with ravenous delight as she carved a generous piece of rib meat and popped it into her mouth.

“Mmm! Oh, wow!”

The spices were wonderfully rich, the meat incredibly tender, perfectly seasoned with a balanced saltiness, and even a hint of sweetness—truly delectable!

Observing Saranya’s blissful expression, Kaelan reached over, speared a piece of rib from Saranya’s plate, and, opening her small mouth, took a delicate taste.

“Hmm… the flavor is quite good, but this isn’t dragon meat, is it? It tastes more like lizard.”

“Naturally. Dragons, as a species, went extinct long before the Demonic Scourge, back in the Golden Age, didn’t they? Modern chefs have no choice but to substitute with the closest approximation: giant lizard meat.”

‘……’

“Heave-ho… heave-ho!”

Paresha, meanwhile, was wholly dedicated to a simply steamed sea crab.

Drawing the ceremonial dagger from her waist, she ferociously pried open the crab’s shell, her eating style strikingly uninhibited.

Seated on the same side as the three women were Phillo and a contingent of divine guards.

Having all sustained various nicks and bruises during their morning sparring session, they now eagerly sought to replenish their energy and find solace in the lavish feast.

Phillo, however, appeared more gravely injured.

His spirits were visibly low, his mind seemingly burdened, as he quietly sipped his vegetable soup.

A short distance away, an attendant settled before a grand pipe organ, his fingers delicately resting upon the creamy white bone china keys.

Soon, a majestic and solemn melody began to swell, its resonant notes gracefully sweeping through the entire banquet hall.

“Hmph.”

Saranya had always believed the Sanctuary, as the church’s paramount property, was exclusively reserved for solemn rites and religious councils, never imagining it could also host gatherings for dining, drinking, and leisurely entertainment.

It was only through Paresha’s subsequent explanation that Saranya truly grasped the Sanctuary’s intricate structure and multifaceted purpose, which far exceeded her initial assumptions.

The areas they had explored thus far included the Sanctuary’s grand antechamber, which remained open to the public and regularly welcomed worshippers for daily services.

Beyond that lay the clergy’s living quarters, the administrative offices, and the central courtyard—all situated on the Sanctuary’s eastern flank.

The very banquet hall they occupied today was part of the reception wing on the Sanctuary’s western side, primarily used for hosting esteemed guests and showcasing the church’s extensive property and sacred relics.

With increased interaction with the clergy in this setting, Saranya found her perception of them shifting considerably.

Like most people, she had initially envisioned the church as a corrupt and inept institution, one that merely recited scriptures and celebrated masses while amassing vast fortunes without accomplishing anything tangible.

After all, churches in anime, television series, and games were almost invariably cast as the antagonists.

Yet, she now recognized that such a view was fundamentally misguided.

The autocratic monarchy of Olavi had endured for generations, but with the assassination of Emperor Olavi VI and the subsequent regency of his imperial kin, its reign began a precipitous collapse.

In many regions, the political landscape had devolved into a brutal tyranny, where the mightiest seized power, establishing solitary dictatorships that relied on sheer violence to cruelly oppress the lower classes.

Against such a bleak backdrop, the church undeniably emerged as a progressive force.

The church’s clergy managed vast estates, engaged in diverse production and commercial ventures, and actively championed the advancement of engineering, agriculture, and commerce.

They diligently studied and composed religious texts, engaging in sharp debates with heretics and non-believers, and assiduously honed their skills in logic and rhetoric.

Furthermore, to more effectively proselytize to the affluent, they cultivated expertise in arts such as music, sculpture, and painting.

Naturally, philosophy, along with its branches of natural science, physics, and literature, was interwoven throughout their pursuits.

In this era, the church’s intellectual repository spanned from the celestial to the terrestrial.

Juggling such a multitude of disciplines while also providing comprehensive education and training in these fields, the church functioned as a unique amalgamation of a vast talent pool, a research institution, a school, and even a sprawling factory.

Therefore, if Paresha were to become a divine officer, they could manipulate her to seize control of the church’s influence.

The Master’s reach would then extend into every facet of Vero, paving an unimpeded path for the Redwater Gang’s expansion.

With a little cooperation from the Shadowscale Gang, claiming Vero City would be within their grasp!

Such an immense Sanctuary, its vaults overflowing with mountains of gold and silver, the church’s opulent estates, the most elite divine guard squads… all would become theirs.

If that were to happen, the Master just might…

Saranya’s mind conjured an image of Kaelan, reclining on the opulent, grand bed in the Chief Divine Officer’s chambers, slowly shedding her translucent silk nightgown, and languidly parting her legs for her.

‘Oh, my dear Saranya, you’ve been so exceptional. The Master shall reward you… From now on, every night, your Master will attend to your desires just like this~’

‘Hehehe… hehehe…’

For a fleeting moment, the righteous legion commander succumbed to the seductive temptation, dissolving into a foolish grin as she plunged into the depths of her wicked fantasies.

It was precisely at this moment that an irritating voice drifted from the opposite side of the table.

“You appear to be in excellent spirits.”

Saranya, occupying a seat on the eastern side, faced the City Alliance’s delegation on the west.

The speaker, she realized, was none other than Lucius Weinshield.

Lucius raised his wine glass, offering Saranya a smirk that bordered on insolence.

“Haia, there’s no need to be so reserved. Join me for a drink; after all, we have plenty of time ahead of us…”

Saranya’s expression hardened as she shot a disdainful glance at Lucius.

Her pleasant mood shattered in an instant.

‘Seriously… who would ever want a “long future” with this flamboyant peacock of a man!’

“Your brother, he misses you dearly… Would you care to see him?”

“Hah?”

Saranya instantly grasped his meaning.

While Lucius addressed her by the false name Haia, his true intent was to convey a subtle message.

Lucius knew her true identity, and he was clearly revealing Mejga’s intentions to her.

Her brother wished to meet her, conveniently just before the final assessment of the divine officer selection.

This was highly suspicious.

“You’re not to go…”

Kaelan’s lips brushed Saranya’s ear as she softly murmured the warning.

“Yes, Master, rest assured, I won’t go…”

Saranya lifted her wine glass.

Lucius, assuming she intended to toast him, smugly leaned closer.

However, Saranya merely ignored him, turned to clink her glass with Kaelan’s, and then drained its contents in one gulp.

Lucius froze, an eyebrow twitching, his face flushing with acute embarrassment.

“Lord Lucius!”

From the south side, Dalia rose, her eyes fawning as she raised her wine glass, then directly approached Lucius, clearly intending to extricate him from his predicament.

Seizing the opportune moment, Lucius, ever the opportunist, took a sip of wine.

He then took Dalia’s hand, leaned in, and whispered something into her ear.

Dalia’s face immediately flushed crimson, her gaze lingering on Lucius with a dreamy, enamored intensity.

“Hmph, what a sordid fellow…”

Phillo’s ears twitched, indicating he had likely overheard Lucius and Dalia’s hushed exchange, and a profound expression of disgust marred his features.

It had to be said, Phillo possessed excellent hearing, a quality that certainly made him a competent divine guard.

Saranya spooned a mouthful of thick soup, her gaze idly drifting to Aivy, who sat beside Lucius.

Aivy’s face was a deathly pallor, her eyes utterly devoid of life, and her gilded braids hung limply by her sides.

She had been intently watching Lucius the entire time, but upon seeing him brazenly caress Dalia’s hand beneath the table, and hearing him exchange suggestive pleasantries, she finally averted her gaze in utter despair, bowing her head deeply.

“Um—”

Just as Saranya began to speak, Aivy abruptly gulped down a mouthful of wine, her expression grim, and departed from her seat.

“Pitter-patter, pitter-patter”

Aivy’s steps were light, yet her swaying gait seemed heavy with sorrow.

In the boisterous banquet hall, her solitary figure walked along the western seating area, unnoticed and unengaged.

No one spoke to her, no one offered concern.

The City Alliance’s true focus remained solely on Lucius Weinshield.

Though Aivy was a candidate and bore the prefix of the “Weinshield family,” she was not, ultimately, a true member of that house.

To put it bluntly, even if Aivy were to become a divine officer, she would at best be a mere puppet for Lucius, still commanding no genuine respect.

Perhaps in Lucius’s eyes, he had bestowed upon Aivy wealth and elevated her to a high position, and she, in turn, should be grateful to him, her benefactor.

Saranya feigned reaching for a dish, maintaining her discreet surveillance of Aivy.

Aivy showed no signs of leaving.

She reached the end of the long western table, turned, traversed the Midas City’s southern seats, then turned again towards Paresha’s eastern side, completing a full circuit as she steadily approached their group.

With each step, Aivy’s expression tightened, as if she had made some grim resolve.

Her face grew increasingly sinister and frightening, eventually contorting into a semblance of ferocity.

‘Oh no, I can’t let Aivy get close to Kaelan like this!’

Saranya sprang to her feet, snatching a dinner knife from the table and concealing it behind her back, watching Aivy’s approach with keen vigilance.

‘……’

“Phillo…”

Aivy stopped behind Phillo, uttering the divine guard’s name in an extremely low voice.

“Huh?!”

Saranya’s eyes widened, and she exchanged a bewildered glance with Kaelan, both turning their attention to Phillo and Aivy.

Phillo, a bone still clutched in his mouth, turned his head at the sound, only to freeze upon seeing Aivy, her eyes brimming with tears, her expression on the verge of collapse.