The Command Tent Assembly

“Isn’t Edith being a little too rude? If you’re feeling uncomfortable, I can speak to her on your behalf.”

After they had left, Gwynevere suddenly asked.

“No need. The etiquette of mortals is dull and meaningless. I do not concern myself with such things.”

Now that she was alone with Gwynevere, Daphne immediately slipped back into her act of being an unfathomable, mysterious, all-knowing figure.

Combined with the pure white High Lector’s robe she was wearing today, she looked even more sacred.

She claimed not to care, but in truth, Daphne was terrified.

If Edith thought she had been complaining to Gwynevere behind her back, she would undoubtedly be bullied mercilessly again.

“In that case, I shall not interfere any further.”

Gwynevere replied respectfully.

To better investigate the movements of the undead, when the Pope had first arrived here, he had chosen to establish the Templars’ camp not far west of Kohl Town.

The route required passing through a forest trail.

It was neither particularly long nor particularly short on foot.

Yet that short stretch of road felt exceptionally long and unbearable.

Daphne could clearly tell that Gwynevere beside her was absentminded.

She nearly stumbled several times, much as she usually did.

“Your Holiness, are the distracting thoughts in your heart especially turbulent today?”

Daphne could no longer keep pretending.

She decided to properly question her using her current identity.

“You… noticed?”

Gwynevere stopped walking.

She turned toward Daphne, a trace of surprise flickering in her eyes.

“On such a flat road, you’ve nearly fallen several times. Anyone could see it.”

Daphne answered coldly.

She lightly waved the wide sleeve of her white robe before asking in return,

“What troubles you, servant of Vatitaya?”

“If you do not wish to say, then so be it.”

“But do not allow distracting thoughts to cloud your judgment.”

In truth, Daphne had never intended for this stiff girl to spill every secret in her heart.

A simple reminder would have been enough.

After all, it had already begun affecting both her work and daily life.

Gwynevere suddenly knelt before Daphne on one knee.

“I confess.”

“I have developed unrealistic thoughts and desires toward you.”

“They are sinful… blasphemous.”

“I repent before you.”

She spoke devoutly, filled with remorse.

Daphne’s mind instantly went blank.

She had never imagined Gwynevere would actually have the courage to say it aloud.

Nor had she expected that something like this could be confessed as though it were a sin.

Seeing that the High Lector remained silent for a long time, Gwynevere lowered her head and continued,

“I know your wisdom is profound and that nothing can escape your insight.”

“Concealment would only be futile.”

“Whether I can overcome my selfish desires and confess honestly…”

“That was your test for me, wasn’t it?”

“Wasn’t it?”

Daphne was completely stunned.

She had never thought that far ahead.

She had only wanted to give the girl a simple reminder, not make her confess everything.

“That’s right.”

With no choice but to force herself to admit it, Daphne felt cold sweat soaking through her back.

“I wish to seek your wisdom.”

“If I think of you day and night…”

“If your face and voice constantly appear in my mind…”

“How should I resolve it?”

After receiving confirmation, Gwynevere immediately asked another question.

She seemed completely unaware of how embarrassingly direct her words were.

She genuinely thought nothing was wrong.

But this was practically a confession made to her face!

Fortunately, no one else was around.

Otherwise, Daphne would have wanted to dig a hole on the spot and bury her head inside it.

The girl she had personally raised was suddenly expressing such passionate affection toward her.

Anyone would find that impossible to handle.

Her overheated mind frantically searched for an appropriate answer.

“You must restrain your desires and cast aside distracting thoughts.”

“This is a necessary trial for you.”

Daphne cleared her throat with a light cough before speaking in a solemn tone.

“I understand.”

Gwynevere replied evenly, her expression unchanged as she looked at Daphne with clear, transparent eyes.

“I will begin tomorrow.”

“Thank you for your guidance, Miss Ellenore.”

There was a hint of disappointment in Gwynevere’s voice.

She had only just stood up when Daphne spoke again.

“I will remain here for a while longer.”

“Until the region beneath the Snow Peaks is stable, I have no intention of returning to Saint Mary.”

“In other words…”

The dimness in Gwynevere’s icy blue eyes instantly brightened.

“Cherish the present, Gwynevere.”

Compared to bottling everything up inside, Gwynevere’s condition was visibly much better after speaking honestly.

Even the corners of her usually expressionless lips occasionally curved into a faint, almost imperceptible smile.

Daphne had never seen the girl known as the Iceheart Saintess because of her lack of emotion look this happy before.

So a mere promise could possess such power.

She had truly witnessed it for herself today.

Still, those two sisters were far too dangerous.

If she stayed by their side any longer, she would sooner or later end up reduced to a plush toy.

Daphne decided to solve the Nors Territory’s troubles first before looking for an opportunity to run away.

By then, her strength would surely have grown to the point where no one could easily catch her.

Even if Alvis and Gwynevere came after her together, it would make no difference.

The first thing she planned to do after escaping was remove the ribbon and bell tied to her body.

Walking with her legs pressed together was simply too painful.

After setting off once more, they soon arrived at the Templars’ encampment.

Cotton tents were laid out neatly across a vast open field.

Every tent bore the Church’s emblem of the Sun-Crowned Longsword.

Large numbers of wooden crates and burlap sacks were stacked outside.

Rows of wooden weapon racks, some full and some empty, lined the camp.

Attendants and soldiers leading horses hurried anxiously between the tents.

For an expeditionary force of this size, simply providing three meals a day consumed enormous amounts of manpower and supplies.

Even without emergencies, the camp was always bustling.

Everyone who saw Gwynevere greeted her with a respectful salute.

Some addressed her as “Your Holiness the Saintess.”

Others called her “Vice-Commander.”

Both titles belonged to Gwynevere.

Originally, Daphne had intended to entrust the position of Commander to Gwynevere.

After all, Gwynevere had been personally trained by her and was someone she trusted completely.

Unfortunately, Gwynevere still could not shoulder the responsibilities of Commander.

Alvis was a veteran member of the Radiant Knights.

Among the many Templars, he enjoyed considerable prestige.

The current arrangement of positions was clearly more convincing to everyone.

So far, Daphne had yet to encounter an actual Templar.

These people were merely attendants or soldiers serving under the Templars—the subordinates of Gwynevere’s subordinates.

As she was lost in thought, two young men dressed in fur-lined coats approached from the opposite direction.

They were handsome and well-built, standing out sharply from the busy crowd around them.

Daphne recognized them immediately.

Templar Valentine.

And Templar Grek.

The two were chatting leisurely as they walked.

Only when they were about fifty paces away did they notice that Gwynevere and Daphne were approaching from the opposite direction.

“Good morning, Your Holiness.”

Both men knelt on one knee and lowered their heads before Gwynevere.

“Good morning, Mr. Valentine. Mr. Grek.”

Gwynevere nodded, signaling them to rise.

“This is Miss Ellenore, High Lector of the Saint Mary Ecclesiastical Territory.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard of her.”

“The renowned Emerald of Saint Mary.”

“It is said that beneath the mysterious veil of the High Lector lies beauty beyond compare.”

“Now that I’ve seen you in person, the rumors were indeed true.”

Valentine rose and offered Daphne a formal knight’s salute.

“Thank you for your compliment.”

Daphne replied with a gentle smile.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Ellenore.”

Grek was somewhat more reserved.

Unlike Valentine, he was not particularly eloquent.

“A pleasure to meet you as well.”

Seeing that her former subordinates were still the same as she remembered, Daphne felt a little more at ease.

“Miss Ellenore, since this is your first visit to the camp, would you like us to accompany you on a tour?”

Valentine offered enthusiastically.

“No need, Mr. Valentine.”

Gwynevere declined on Daphne’s behalf.

She raised her head and swept her cold gaze across the camp.

“Gather all the Templars still remaining in camp.”

“We’re convening a council.”