Chapter 493 - 492 - The Carvan!
The little wooden hut fell into a quiet stillness once more as the conversation reached another turning point. The fire burning within the stone hearth crackled gently, its warm amber light dancing across the wooden walls while shadows rose and fell with every flicker of the flames. Beyond the shuttered windows, the night remained peaceful, and the soft breeze drifting through the tiny gaps carried with it the distant murmur of rustling leaves and the occasional chirping of insects beneath the moonlit sky. It was a calm, almost comforting atmosphere, yet within the modest room itself, an invisible heaviness quietly lingered between the two figures seated across from one another.
Neither of them spoke immediately.
The Saintess quietly watched Luca, waiting patiently as he remained lost in thought, while Luca himself stared silently at the wooden table before him, his crimson eyes no longer carrying the analytical sharpness they had displayed moments earlier. Instead, they reflected something far more complicated.
Concern.
Not for the mission.
Not for the Holy Kingdom.
But...
For the woman sitting before him.
Eventually, Luca released a long, quiet breath before lifting his gaze to meet hers once again.
"I still don’t think this plan is a good one."
His voice was calm, but unlike before, it no longer carried the detached composure of someone analysing a military strategy. Instead, every word now felt deeply personal.
The Saintess simply smiled gently.
Luca continued before she could respond.
"I understand why everyone agreed to it."
His fingers slowly intertwined upon the table.
"I understand the logic behind drawing the Cult into the open."
"I understand why eliminating their hidden forces in one decisive operation would prevent countless tragedies in the future."
A faint crease appeared between his brows.
"I understand every tactical reason."
He slowly shook his head.
"But understanding something..."
His eyes remained fixed upon hers.
"...doesn’t mean I have to like it."
The room became silent once again.
Luca leaned back slightly in his chair before continuing in an unusually quiet voice.
"This plan asks you to become the centre of the battlefield."
"It asks you to deliberately walk toward people who have already tried to kill you more than twenty times."
"It asks you to travel while knowing that somewhere ahead, hidden among ordinary people, there are countless enemies waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike."
Another quiet breath escaped him.
"And everyone involved..."
His expression became noticeably heavier.
"...is simply expected to accept that."
He lowered his gaze for a brief moment.
"I can’t."
The simple admission lingered quietly between them.
Luca slowly looked back toward the Saintess.
"I’ve seen too many situations where plans collapsed because of a single unexpected variable."
"I’ve seen operations that appeared flawless on paper end in disaster because someone underestimated the enemy."
"I’ve seen people place absolute faith in strategies that should have worked..."
A faint bitterness entered his smile.
"...only to lose everything because fate refused to cooperate."
He shook his head once more.
"The Cult has been preparing for centuries."
"They’ve hidden themselves within kingdoms."
"They’ve manipulated entire nations."
"They’ve waited generations without revealing themselves."
His crimson eyes quietly hardened.
"If people capable of that are now being handed exactly what they want..."
He paused.
"...I don’t care how carefully this operation has been planned."
His voice became quieter still.
"It is dangerous."
The Saintess listened to every word without interrupting him even once.
Her beautiful silver eyes remained gentle from beginning to end, never showing irritation or disagreement despite the concern so openly filling Luca’s voice.
Only after he had completely finished did she finally speak.
A warm smile slowly appeared upon her face.
It wasn’t the smile of someone trying to dismiss another’s worries.
Nor was it the smile of someone insisting that everything would certainly be fine.
It was simply...
Compassion.
"I know."
Her voice carried a quiet tenderness.
"I truly do."
She slowly lowered her eyes toward her folded hands.
"If there had been another path..."
A faint sigh escaped her lips.
"...I believe everyone would have chosen it."
Her gaze gradually returned to Luca.
"But..."
She smiled gently.
"Some choices are never really ours to make."
Luca remained silent.
The Saintess continued in the same calm voice.
"The Goddess entrusted me with Her blessing."
As she spoke those words, an almost imperceptible radiance seemed to pass through her violet eyes before fading just as quickly.
"That blessing was never meant to exist for my sake alone."
"It exists for this world."
"For its people."
"For those who cannot stand upon a battlefield themselves."
She folded her hands quietly upon her lap.
"If I possess the ability to protect even one more life..."
Her smile became softer.
"...then I cannot pretend that responsibility belongs to someone else."
She slowly shook her head.
"It is not merely my duty."
The words carried remarkable conviction despite their gentle delivery.
"It is my responsibility."
Her gaze drifted briefly toward the quiet flames dancing within the fireplace.
"I was born into this world."
"I have received kindness from it."
"I have been protected by countless people throughout my life."
"My teachers."
"My companions."
"My knights."
"My people."
Her expression remained peaceful.
"If the day comes when this world asks something difficult of me..."
She looked back toward Luca once again.
"...then I should answer."
"Not because someone forced me."
"Not because I was ordered."
"But because..."
A faint smile gradually appeared upon her lips.
"...this is also my home."
Silence quietly settled between them once more.
Luca lowered his gaze.
He wanted to object.
He wanted to argue.
Yet somehow...
He couldn’t.
Not because her reasoning was flawless.
But because he could hear complete sincerity within every word she had spoken.
The Saintess quietly observed his conflicted expression before the solemn atmosphere slowly began softening.
A playful glimmer suddenly appeared within her silver eyes.
The serious expression she had maintained until now quietly disappeared.
Instead...
A gentle teasing smile bloomed across her face.
"Besides..."
She leaned forward ever so slightly.
"It isn’t as though I’ll be facing everything alone."
Luca looked up in confusion.
The Saintess’s smile widened just enough to reveal the quiet confidence hidden beneath it.
"After all..."
Her voice became lighter.
"I have you with me, don’t I?"
Luca blinked.
She looked directly into his crimson eyes.
There wasn’t the slightest trace of doubt within her expression.
Only complete trust.
"I know..."
Her smile became brighter than ever.
"...that you won’t let anything happen to me."
***
The first light of dawn gradually spread across the horizon, chasing away the darkness of the night as soft golden rays filtered through the towering canopy of an ancient forest. A gentle morning mist lingered between the countless trees, drifting lazily across the narrow woodland road like a thin white veil, while dew clung to every blade of grass and every emerald leaf, glistening beneath the awakening sun. The crisp morning air carried the refreshing scent of damp earth and fresh pine, accompanied only by the distant songs of birds greeting another peaceful day.
Or at least...
It appeared peaceful.
A modest caravan steadily advanced along the winding forest trail, its wooden wheels rolling rhythmically across the uneven ground while several sturdy horses pulled the covered carriage through the dense woodland. The vehicle itself was deliberately plain, lacking the extravagant decorations one would expect from nobles or royalty, its weathered exterior allowing it to blend naturally among countless merchant caravans that travelled the kingdom’s roads every day.
Surrounding the carriage walked a group of mercenaries.
Their armour remained intentionally simple, concealed beneath worn travelling cloaks that revealed neither noble crests nor military insignias. To any passerby, they appeared to be nothing more than veteran adventurers escorting an ordinary merchant caravan through dangerous territory.
Their behaviour reinforced the illusion.
One broad-shouldered mercenary laughed loudly as he recounted an exaggerated story about an innkeeper who had supposedly mistaken him for a wanted criminal because of his beard.
Another immediately interrupted, insisting the real reason had been because the innkeeper simply disliked ugly faces, causing several others to burst into laughter.
Someone further back complained dramatically about how the previous night’s stew had contained more vegetables than meat, prompting another mercenary to argue that perhaps eating vegetables once in a while would finally improve his miserable swordsmanship.
The conversation wandered naturally from food...
To gambling...
To women...
To arguments over which town brewed the strongest ale.
It sounded exactly like the idle chatter of seasoned travellers trying to pass the long hours upon the road.
Only...
It wasn’t.
Beneath every laugh...
Every careless joke...
Every exaggerated complaint...
Their eyes never stopped moving.
The surrounding forest remained under constant observation.
Every rustling branch.
Every shifting shadow.
Every unfamiliar sound.
Nothing escaped their notice.
Walking quietly beside the carriage...
Was a lone cloaked figure.
Unlike the others, he contributed nothing to the lively conversation surrounding him.
His footsteps remained perfectly measured.
His crimson eyes calmly swept across the dense woodland while one hand rested casually near his side, giving the appearance of complete relaxation.
Yet anyone capable of observing him closely would immediately notice the truth.
He wasn’t relaxed.
Not even slightly.
Every sense remained sharpened.
Every instinct quietly watched the forest.
The carriage itself travelled only a single arm’s length away from him.
Its heavy curtains concealed the interior completely, allowing only one small side window to remain partially uncovered. Even that opening had been carefully concealed behind a thick travelling cloth that prevented anyone outside from catching even the slightest glimpse of the passenger within.
Luca walked directly beside that window.
Close enough to react instantly.
Far enough not to obstruct the horses.
The journey had continued peacefully since dawn.
Almost...
Too peacefully.
His crimson eyes slowly drifted across the trees lining both sides of the road.
The birds...
Were quieter.
The wind...
Had changed direction.
The forest itself...
Felt wrong.
A nearly imperceptible tension quietly settled within his chest.
Without consciously realising it...
His pace slowed by half a step.
Every muscle throughout his body instinctively tightened.
His heartbeat remained calm.
His breathing unchanged.
Yet his senses screamed.
Something’s coming.
The thought appeared without reason.
Without evidence.
Only instinct.
Then—
A sudden killing intent flashed through the forest.
Tiny.
Brief.
Almost impossible to detect.
Luca’s pupils contracted sharply.
His body moved before conscious thought could catch up.
Space beside his right hand rippled violently.
A long, slender black saber emerged instantly from the distortion as though reality itself had split open to place the weapon within his grasp.
There wasn’t even time to draw a proper stance.
The blade simply moved.
One clean motion.
A single horizontal slash.
Clang!
A sharp metallic crack echoed violently throughout the forest.
Two broken fragments of a black-feathered arrow spun helplessly through the air before embedding themselves into separate tree trunks several metres apart.
Only then...
Did everyone realise what had happened.
The cheerful conversations vanished instantly.
The laughter disappeared.
The entire caravan came to an abrupt halt as every mercenary instinctively reached for their weapons, their casual expressions replaced by the hardened vigilance of seasoned veterans.
Horses stamped nervously against the earth.
The forest...
Became deathly quiet.
The broad-shouldered mercenary nearest the front of the caravan stepped forward, his hand firmly gripping the hilt of the heavy broadsword now resting upon his shoulder.
His sharp gaze swept across the dense woodland surrounding them before his voice thundered through the silent forest.
"Who’s there?"
The question echoed between the towering trees.
Only silence answered.