Before Laurence could continue his interrogation, a series of rapid footsteps approached from outside the room. The sound was orderly and restrained, carrying a solemn rhythm that instantly shattered the tense and oppressive atmosphere inside.
Following the footsteps was a majestic and holy aura that subconsciously calmed the mind, spreading gently like the warm winter sun.
Vera felt as if she had been granted a reprieve. She seized the opportunity to break free from Laurence’s grip, quickly backing away several steps to straighten her ruffled collar while lowering her eyes.
Laurence also quickly retracted his outward displays of excitement and obsession. He leaned back against the headboard, his face once again showing the weakness and confusion of someone severely injured. However, the faint golden glow on his chest brightened for a fleeting moment, as if sensing a powerful and kindred Divine Art from outside.
There was a soft knock on the door, and it was pushed open.
The first to enter was an elderly man dressed in silver-white Bishop’s robes with gold trim. He held a simple scepter topped with a pure white crystal. This was the Bishop of the Shadowlight City branch, the very man who had previously refused Laurence’s request for a Pope’s Pursuit Order.
Behind him were two Saints dressed in white vestments with solemn expressions, along with a Temple Knight clad in shimmering silver heavy armor. Even the knight’s face was hidden behind a visor, radiating an aura that warned others not to approach.
The Bishop’s voice remained calm and melodic. He gave a slight nod, his gaze sweeping over Laurence’s pale face and the bandages on his chest before finally settling on that faint golden glow.
“Captain Laurence, it seems the trial Destiny has given you is far more severe than we imagined, and… more special.”
His wording was cautious, not immediately pointing anything out. However, the scrutiny in his eyes and the hidden meaning in his words suggested he was not unprepared.
The two Saints stood quietly at the side, while the heavily armored Temple Knight stood by the door like a statue. Underneath the visor, his gaze scanned every corner of the room before locking onto Laurence. Laurence struggled to prop himself up to offer a greeting, but the Bishop raised a hand and gently stopped him.
“There is no need for such formalities, child. You have been through much recently; you should rest more.” He turned to an older, particularly serious-looking Saint beside him. “If you would.”
The Saint raised his bronze scepter. Light emanated from its head, transforming into a thread of holy energy that connected to Laurence’s heart.
**[Divine Art: Healing]**
As the thread of light entered his body, Laurence first felt a wave of comforting warmth, as if soaking in a hot spring. It quickly eased the dull pain of his wounds and his physical exhaustion.
However, the light soon touched something deeper—the few drops of Disaster blood near his heart, which had been suppressed by the Braveblood but remained as stubborn as maggots on a bone.
“Ugh!” Laurence groaned, his body tensing involuntarily.
Stimulated by the holy power, those drops of foul blood suddenly thrashed and fought back, releasing a cold, filthy aura that tried to corrode the healing light. Beneath his bandages, the faint golden glow flared up in response, meeting the coldness head-on and attacking the corruption from within while the Saint’s Divine Art attacked from without.
The process lasted for about half a minute. Finally, under the combined purification of the golden light and the milky-white holy light, the last trace of grey-black filth let out a faint *hiss* and was wiped away by Laurence’s bloodline without a trace.
The Saint slowly retracted his scepter, and the thread of light broke. He did not speak immediately, keeping his eyes closed as if savoring every sensation of the contact between his power and the golden energy within Laurence during the purification. His expression shifted from concentration to suspicion, and finally to a shock and excitement that bordered on devout. Even his hand holding the scepter trembled slightly.
“Bishop, there is no doubt! It can resonate with Divine Arts and even slaughter the encroachment of the Power of Calamity! This is the unique power of the Braveblood, the only one of its kind in the world!”
The Saint then turned to the Bishop. “Bishop, there is no mistake! Captain Laurence—no, Lord Laurence—is the continent’s new Brave, reborn after 1,000 years!”
***
The Bishop remained silent. He did not immediately respond to the Saint’s declaration. Instead, he stepped forward and reached out his hand, hovering it over the area where the golden light flowed on Laurence’s chest. He did not cast any Divine Art; he simply closed his eyes and focused, as if sensing and touching that power with his very soul.
After a long time, he slowly withdrew his hand and opened his eyes. Within those eyes, which were usually gentle and wise, a surge of incredibly complex emotions swirled. There was the shock of disbelief, the excitement of witnessing history, and the awe of Destiny’s arrangement. But in the end, it all transformed into a heavy, profound solemnity.
Yet beneath all these emotions, a hard-to-decipher look flashed in the Bishop’s eyes. Was it… pity for Laurence? A heartbreaking sorrow? Or a sense of powerlessness regarding everything that might happen in the future, coming from an unknown source?
Seeing the Bishop’s gaze, Laurence felt a flash of astonishment in his heart.
‘He… shouldn’t he be feeling overjoyed? In my predecessor life, after I awakened the Braveblood, the Bishop in the Holy City was so excited he held a city-wide celebration, and the Pope personally crowned me. But…’
The Bishop looked at Laurence again. This time, his gaze had shifted back to the posture a Bishop should maintain when facing a newly awakened God-favored one. It was respectful, solemn, and carried a clear sense of distance.
“Lord Laurence…” he said slowly, each word clear and powerful. “You have proven yourself with body and soul, dispelling the filth in your heart. This is the supreme grace of the Holy Light and the heavy burden entrusted to you by God. The duty of the Brave is to cleanse the Disaster and protect all living beings. Since you have awakened, you must take up this mantle.”
His words sounded flawless—acknowledgment, expectation, and the bestowal of responsibility. It was the standard rhetoric of a clergyman after confirming a ‘God-favored one.’ But Laurence’s heart sank slightly.
The Bishop’s reaction was not the ecstatic joy he had expected. There was none of the ‘witnessing a miracle, celebrating the birth of a hero’ atmosphere he had experienced in the Holy City in his previous life. Instead… he was doubting.
‘What is he doubting…? Isn’t the birth of a God-favored one a momentous event for the Church?’
Was it an illusion? Or was this regional Bishop simply a calm person who did not show his emotions? But the Bishop in the Holy City from his predecessor life had a higher status and was older, yet he had still been moved to tears after confirming his bloodline. Why did this Bishop have only heaviness and pity deep in his eyes?
‘What does he know? Or what does he foresee?’ Laurence’s thoughts spun rapidly, but he maintained an appropriate expression on his face.
Regardless, the Bishop’s acknowledgment was the first step. He needed this title and the power of the Church, even if he had once thought these procedures were too tedious. Only by increasing his strength as quickly as possible could he erase the Disaster Source from this world before it truly awakened. Currently, with his own power, it was difficult to confront a Disaster Source that might have already partially awakened.
“Thank you for your recognition, Bishop,” Laurence said, his voice very raspy. He struggled to sit upright, showing the resolve of someone who had no choice but to take on a heavy responsibility.
“Since I possess this power… I will not fail the trust placed in me. However…” He looked troubled and solemn, appearing somewhat hesitant to speak. “Regarding Aurelia… that is, my former companion, the corrupted Dragonkin. My bloodline and my experiences have pointed in a clear direction. What does the Church… intend to do about this?”
He threw the question back to the Bishop of Shadowlight City, both as a test and as a request for authorization. If the Bishop still insisted on investigating first before arresting and interrogating her, there was no need to say more. He would immediately head to the Holy City and ask the Pope to step in.
“Lord Laurence, I understand the warning of your bloodline and the pain you have endured. The matter of the Power of Calamity involving the encroachment of a Dragonkin is a first. This… requires careful consideration and cannot be concluded hastily.”
The Bishop shook his head, cutting off Laurence before he could speak. “If you are still trying to get me to issue a Pope’s Pursuit Order for your former companion, I can only apologize and say that it cannot be done.”
He raised a hand to stop Laurence’s eager attempt to argue, his voice steady but carrying the authority of an elder and high-ranking clergyman.
“The foundation of the Church’s existence lies in its adherence to light and order, not to any individual. Even for the words of a God-favored one, we will not follow blindly. The handling of your former teammate, Aurelia, must follow the established procedures of the Holy Light Scripture. A definitive decision can only be made by high-ranking clergy after a thorough investigation produces irrefutable evidence.”
“As for the Pope’s Pursuit Order, it requires the Pope’s personal signature. No other clergyman has the right to issue it. Arbitrarily issuing such a heavy order would not only be a violation of procedural justice but could also lead to an irreversible mistake.”
He looked into Laurence’s dimmed golden eyes and added slowly, no longer hiding the pity in his tone.
“Lord Brave, God is responsible for giving you your duty, and the Church is responsible for guiding your direction. The path you walk is destined to be a lonely one, covered in thorns and blood. But because of that, you must always keep this in mind: your sword must be swung at the undeniable darkness, not merely at suspicious shadows. Before the truth is revealed, swinging your sword prematurely may harm the very people or things you wish to protect, or even the beliefs you were once willing to die for.”
The Bishop’s words came to an end, followed by a soft sigh.
However, Laurence’s heart sank to the bottom. A mix of absurdity and anger churned in his chest; he had no interest in any of this right now!
‘Procedures again! Caution again! This so-called procedural justice! You want evidence? My memories are the best evidence! I have already proven my memories aren’t false. Aurelia is the Disaster Source; there’s nothing more to explain!’
Yet he could not lash out. He could only roar in his heart, while on the surface, he nodded in agreement.
“Lord Brave, please rest and recover for now. Saint Kallen will stay behind to help you stabilize your power and handle subsequent matters. Vice-Captain Vera…” He turned to Vera, his tone regaining some gentleness. “Please stay here to assist in his care and… gather your thoughts. Before the Church issues further clear instructions, Lord Laurence’s safety and rest are the top priorities.”
He then nodded to the knight standing like an iron tower by the door. “Sir Gareth, if you would.”
“It is my duty, Bishop,” Gareth replied, his voice muffled and firm through his visor.
With his instructions given, the Bishop did not linger. He cast one final look at Laurence, who seemed submissive on the bed despite the dark, unreadable look in his eyes. Holding his scepter, the Bishop turned and led the young Saint, who had yet to calm his emotions, out of the room.
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