Holy Kingdom Elia – 2

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As Trevor continued weeping, Vera’s expression became more serious.

 

“This guy is going nuts again.”

 
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Another voice resounded in the space.

 

Vera’s and Trevo’s gazes turned to the source of the voice at the same time.

 

At the end of their gaze, there was an old man with a bent back walking out from the inside with a cane.

 

It was an old man who could easily be regarded as someone that had entered the twilight of his life.

 

Faded white hair tied into a single braid.

 

Age spots were blooming and the skin was wrinkled.

 

Although he was an old man who at first glance was just dressed in a pure white robe without any decorations, Vera felt shrivels rise up all over his body as soon as he saw the old man.

 

Even with his back bent, his large body, which felt a bit taller than him, and the divinity that exploded with every step made it that way.

 

Trevor was in the middle of wailing, but when the old man appeared, he got up in shock and disappeared from his seat, leaving Vera with some words.

 

“Then I hope we can have a more in-depth conversation next time, so I’ll step back! Please rest in peace!”

 

Vera frowned at Trevor’s behavior as he quickly continued his words and disappeared, then shifted his gaze again and looked at the old man.

 

‘Who is he?’

 

Judging by the aura he felt, it seemed that the maniac ran away in surprise, but he was not an ordinary person.

 

The old man twitched and kicked his tongue as he looked at Trevor moving away, and then shifted his eyes to Vera’s gaze, who was staring at him blankly, and spoke out.

 

“What a rude fellow.
Isn’t it polite to say hello first when you see an adult?”

 

At his reproach, Vera’s body flinched and trembled.

 

“…I’m Vera.”

“It’s late, you punk.”

 

tsk tsk.
The old man shrugged his shoulders and smiled.
The old man laughed so much for a while, then walked very slowly with a cane, and stopped walking only after leaving a gap of about three steps from Vera.

 

“Let’s see… .”

 

A distance where you can attack and be hit at any time.

 
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While Vera was tense as he looked at the old man entering in his strike zone, the old man continued with a big smile, revealing all his yellow teeth.

 

“You smell of blood, you stinky kid.”

 

At the words spoken, Vera’s body tensed up.

 

Of course, it was because of being stabbed by his words.

 

A week ago, before leaving the slum, I killed the Scavengers.

 

He was stabbed and his body trembled.

 

‘… He saw through my murder.’

 

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It had already been over a week ago, so there was no way the smell of blood would remain, but he saw through it.

 

At that, Vera lowered his head, thinking that he might know about the old man’s identity.

 

“… I see you, Your Holiness.”

 

It was certain

 

‘Bargo St.
Lore.’

 

Apostle of Judgment, Mace of God, Father of all Paladins.

 

This old man was the source of the prosperity of Elia.

 

If you think about it that way, the angler is right.

 

‘Shin-an (神眼).’

 

The power of the Apostle of Judgment, the eyes that see through the karma engraved in the soul.

 

His insight about his killings must have come from this ability.

 

Bargo just smiled, proving that Vera’s reasoning was correct.

 

“Yeah, are you the apostle of oath of this generation?”

“I have received such a grace undeservedly.”

“It’s too much, I’m sure there is a reason why you were chosen.
Come with me, I am too old to even stand here.”

 

After saying that, Vera looked at Bargo who turned around, creating a little tension inside him.

 

He was a person he had never met in my last life since he had been avoiding the Holy Kingdom.

 
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I met the Holy Emperor after passing through one life.

 

‘… A monster.’

 

A monster stronger than anyone Vera had ever met in his previous life.

 

*

 

Bargo St.
Lore.

 

Because the Holy Kingdom was such a closed country, there weren’t many people who had actually met him, but he was an old man whose name was always mentioned when people picked the strongest man on the continent.

 

It’s because although 50 years have passed, what he accomplished while embarking on his apostle training in full swing across the continent was still being talked about like a legend.

 

A dragon slayer who slashed the skull of Demon Dragon Scarja with a mace.

 

The nightmare of the vampires who slaughtered all the vampires who used to be in power at the northern edge.

 

The mace of the weak who broke the bone of King Haman, who was plundering the weaker tribes in the land of the beasts.

 

Other than that, he was the living legend of this era, who accomplished so many achievements that it would be impossible to talk about it in a night.

 

In his previous life, when the Demon King came, everyone on the continent said that.

 

If Bargo St.
Lore hadn’t died of old age, the Demon King would have had his bones broken without even being able to put up a fight.

 

For Vera, it was only after meeting him today that he could confirm whether the statement was true or not.

 

‘… For sure.’

 

Strong.

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The old man was the first person that made him think of that.

 

It wasn’t clear whether he was pouring it out unconsciously, or whether he was pouring it out on purpose, but the senses in his whole body were giving a warning to the divine power he was emitting out.

 

His senses were screaming that he should never fight him.

 

It was difficult to make a comparison as I had never actually seen the Demon King, but when I looked at the energy flowing through the Holy Emperor, I thought that the words I heard at the time were not just words.

 

“Okay.
What did you come here for?”

 

Bargo’s question.
To that, Vera bowed his head again and gave a small answer.

 

“It is to fulfill the duty to the miracle that has come upon me.”

 

What came out was an infinitely polite tone.

 

… It was natural.

 

It’s because I have to show myself well to that old man, even if I don’t know other people.

 

As long as he had the stigma, he would not be thrown out, but it was the Holy Emperor that approved all the external activities of the Holy Kingdom, including the escort procession of the saint, so he had to seem as faithful as possible to stand out in his eyes.

 

Vera came up with an answer with that thought.

 

“Do you know?”

 

Bargo’s laughter-filled words followed.

 
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“There are only three kinds of people who are willing to put their lives into faith.
The first one is stupid.
The second is mad.
The third is a scammer.”

 

After saying that, Bargo leaned his upper body in the direction of Vera and continued with a giggle.

 

“Let’s see, by the way you speak, you don’t seem like a fool, and your eyes don’t show madness, so you’re not even a madman… Then, are you a scammer?”

“… not at all.”

“Are you saying that I am telling a lie?”

“… It’s not like that.”

“This is also wrong.
That’s wrong too.
So what is the right thing to do?”

 

A tongue-in-cheek remark.

 

Vera’s teeth were sharply sharpened at him.

 

For some reason, it was a familiar way of speaking.

 

Somewhere, quite recently, someone who made him experience this way of turning people’s stomachs over.

 

After thinking about it for a while, Vera was able to think of another person who spoke that way without any difficulty.

 

‘… Saint.’

 

The source of the Saint’s upsetting way of speaking which turned people’s stomachs over was immediately visible.

 

She probably learned it from this old man.

 

‘… As expected.’

 

The people of the Holy Kingdom were all harmful humans.

 

*

 

Bargo continued to ask a few more questions.

 

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From questions about identity, to clichéd questions such as how much you know about the use of divinity and what kind of position you want.

 

Vera tried to answer him as sincerely as he could, but the responses were not very good.

 

– Are you good at talking?

– So what do you mean?

– I didn’t ask that, kid.

 

All of them were sarcastic as if they had a taste for making fun of himself.
His tone of voice, as if to test the limits of his patience.

 

In the long question-and-answer session, Vera was able to vaguely understand what Bargo’s intentions were.

 

‘… An old man that is like a snake.’

 

He was trying to make me angry.

 

He wanted an emotional answer, not a clichéd answer.

 

It was something that Vera knew because he had lived a life ruling with fear.

 

Emotional language springs out in its raw, unorganized form.
The minimum safety device for continuing the conversation is released and pops out.

 

In most cases, such language puts you at a disadvantage in negotiations or exposes your weaknesses to the other party.

 

Of course, I can tell you as much as possible if the weaknesses that are revealed are fairly minor,but to show my true feelings was a different matter.
In order to explain the real reason for coming to the Holy Kingdom, I had to explain about the Saint who had not yet received the stigma.

 

I will live for the saint.
He had to talk about his oath.

 

To explain to him, of course, he had to add an explanation for his return, which Vera did not want.

 

Vera had no intention of telling anyone about his return.

 

He didn’t even want to tell the saint.

 

In the future, all kinds of incidents would occur to the extent that it would be right to say that a storm was raging through the continent.

 
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Not causal events that will be twisted just because one’s behavior has changed, but accidents that should be called natural disasters.

 

In order to not create variables as much as possible in it, in order to create a result that will be to your advantage, you had to put the variable elements except yourself in their original places as much as possible.

 

It was for the safety of the saint, and it was also for himself.

 

In Vera’s mind, the saint who had died after being thrown into the muddy water in the slum came to mind.

 

Vera did not want to see the saint die like that again.

 

Even if it was the saint’s own decision to set foot in the slum, even if she was content with such a death.
To Vera it was unacceptable.

 

It was an infinitely selfish feeling, but Vera had no intention of suppressing it.

 

Since she was such a noble person, who reformed even an evil person such as myself, her ending should have been more glorious.

 

No matter how much he bowed his head under her light, he was still a selfish human being.

 

He was a human being who could be broken as much as needed as long as his wish came true.

 

Vera bit his teeth at the emotions that surfaced his mind without realizing it, then calmed his mind again and spoke to Bargo.

 

“I came here just because the stigma came to me and I thought I had a role to play.”

“So are you like a puppet with no free will?”

“How could a mere creature disobey the will of God?”

“If a person had died because of one disobedience, all the intelligent bodies on the continent would have already become extinct.”

“… That is a terrible joke.”

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“You have a nasty way of speaking.
You are reciting a script when you’re being told to speak.”

 

The eyes of Vera and Bargo collided.

 

Vera didn’t say anything.

 

It was because of the thought that only the same words would come and go repeatedly if they were to continue the conversation.

 

Moreover, there was no need to say more.

 

Now it was definitely felt.

 

That old man would continue to ask more questions about him, even if he doesn’t talk.
And I won’t give in.

 

‘Confidence.’

 

It was revealed to him.

 

The confidence of a superhuman who has built many legends in the past.

 

No matter what his plans were, the confidence that he could break them.

 

Even if he kept his mouth shut because of that confidence, I will eventually move on without knowing in the end.

 

With that thought in mind, for a moment, Bargo burst into laughter, followed by the answer.

 

“Well, good.”

 

Done.

 

A small relief appeared in Vera.

 

“Then get up and follow me.”

“Where are you going?”

“Didn’t you say that you wanted to become a paladin? Then we should see your sword skills first.”

 

Words that could be said to be straightforward, and could  also be said to be sloppy.

 

Vera, who had such thoughts, nodded slightly, and Bargo raised his characteristic mischievous smile and posed a question to Vera.

 

“So, are you good at wielding the sword?”

 

Vera’s gaze turned to Bargo again.

 

‘Wielding the sword…’

 

Smirking.
A laugh escaped Vera’s lips.

 

It was a funny thing to say.

 

Born as a hunter in the slum, with little to nothing, he devoured half of the continent.

 

Naturally, there must have been numerous fights along the way.

 

Until the end of his life, Vera had never been defeated in so many armed conflicts.

 

The reason why those great heroes  had to bind him with a curse

 

Wielding the sword was the thing that Vera was most confident about.

 

Vera answered Bargo’s gaze while maintaining a smile on his face.
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“I’m pretty good.”

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