The Conspiracy

Morning sunlight bathed the Cathedral courtyard in a warm golden glow.

The rhythmic clack of wooden practice swords echoed from the training grounds, accompanied by the occasional shout of an instructor correcting a Hero Candidate's stance. Apprentice priests hurried through the stone corridors carrying stacks of books, while the fragrance of incense drifted gently through the morning air.

Life within the Cathedral had settled into its usual rhythm.

For everyone else.

Three days had passed since I regained consciousness, and although my body still felt heavier than it should, I no longer needed the walls to support me.

One careful step.

Then another.

The dull ache that lingered in my muscles reminded me of Tiara's words.

"Your body needs time to reconstruct."

She wasn't exaggerating.

I smiled bitterly.

"So this is what reconstructing feels like..."

The corridor stretched ahead, illuminated by tall stained-glass windows that painted the marble floor with shades of crimson, sapphire, and emerald.

Priests greeted one another.

Children chased each other before being gently scolded by an elderly nun.

For a place preparing for war...

The Cathedral felt strangely peaceful.

Then I saw her.

silver hair swayed gently as she walked down the opposite hallway, carrying several books against her chest.

"...Miss Angelica."

She stopped.

For just a moment, surprise crossed her face.

Then it disappeared behind a calm, polite smile.

"Good morning... Mister Vinaas."

Something about it felt...

Different.

Still...

I smiled back.

"Good morning."

She adjusted the books in her arms.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm in a bit of a hurry."

"Perhaps we can speak another time."

Before I could answer...

She gave a small bow and continued walking.

I stood there watching her disappear around the corner.

"..."

"...Did I do something wrong?"

The question escaped before I realized I'd spoken aloud.

I searched my memory.

Our last conversation was in infrimary.

"..."

I couldn't think of anything.

With a quiet sigh, I continued walking.

Or at least...

That had been my intention.

Five minutes later...

I looked around at the unfamiliar stone pathways lined with blooming flowers.

"..."

"...Well."

"I'm lost again."

The garden was unlike any place I'd seen inside the Cathedral.

Medicinal herbs grew neatly in carefully tended beds, while vibrant flowers swayed gently beneath the morning breeze.

A small stone fountain rested at its center, its gentle trickling blending with the cheerful songs of nearby birds.

"...You're becoming quite good at finding this place."

A familiar voice interrupted my thoughts.

I turned toward the flowerbeds.

Saint Rerisa knelt among the herbs, carefully trimming a small lavender plant.

She looked up and smiled.

"Good morning, Vinaas."

"Good morning, Saint Rerisa."

She brushed a few strands of black hair behind her ear before standing.

"I take it..."

"...you weren't actually looking for the garden."

"...No."

"I was trying to find the eastern corridor."

She laughed softly.

"I thought as much."

Somehow...

Her laughter made getting lost feel less embarrassing.

She studied my face for a brief moment.

"...Something's bothering you."

I hesitated.

"...Is it really that obvious?"

"Only to someone who's been paying attention."

I lowered my gaze.

"...It's Miss Angelica."

Rerisa nodded almost immediately.

"I suspected that."

I frowned.

"Recently..."

"It feels like she's avoiding me."

"Whenever we meet..."

"She's polite."

"But..."

"...only polite."

"I keep wondering..."

"...Did I offend her somehow?"

A knowing smile appeared on Rerisa's face.

"You boys really can be wonderfully oblivious."

"I wasn't trying to hurt her."

"I know."

She folded her hands behind her back.

"That's exactly the problem."

"...I don't understand."

"I know."

"And neither do you."

"Come."

She gestured toward a small wooden table beneath the shade of an old tree.

"I was just about to make tea."

A few moments later, steam rose gently from two porcelain cups.

"Chamomile."

Rerisa placed one before me.

"It helps people think clearly."

I looked into the cup.

"...Does it?"

She smiled mischievously.

"It helps me pretend."

A quiet laugh escaped me.

"I'll take pretending over nothing."

"There."

She pointed at me triumphantly.

"You smiled."

"...Was I not supposed to?"

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd forgotten how."

The silence that followed wasn't awkward.

It was peaceful.

Leaves rustled overhead.

The fountain continued its gentle song.

For the first time in several days...

I felt like I could simply breathe.

Rerisa took a slow sip of her tea.

"You've been carrying quite a burden."

"..."

"Even when you don't say anything."

I looked at her.

"...Am I really that easy to read?"

She shook her head.

"No."

"You simply remind me..."

"...of someone who believed they had to carry everything alone."

I stared quietly into my tea.

"...You sound like you've met someone like that."

"I've met many."

She smiled sadly.

"And very few of them ever asked for help."

She leaned back slightly.

"So..."

"Tell me."

"What do you think of the other Heroes?"

I blinked.

"I thought you'd know."

"I hear reports."

"I'd rather hear your opinion."

I thought for a while.

"...They're adapting."

"Some faster than others."

"Aion..."

"People naturally gather around him."

"He never asks them to."

"They simply follow."

Rerisa nodded.

"I've noticed."

"Lady Angelica..."

"She asks questions about almost everything."

"I think she's trying to understand this world as quickly as possible."

"A few Heroes seem excited."

"Others..."

"...look terrified."

"And you?"

A faint smile appeared.

"I'm still trying to understand where I belong."

Rerisa nodded thoughtfully.

Then...

Something caught my attention.

I looked toward the courtyard beyond the garden.

Heroes laughed.

Priests smiled.

Apprentices chatted as they crossed the pathways.

Everything looked...

Normal.

Yet...

"...Something feels strange."

Rerisa tilted her head.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know."

I searched for the words.

"They're smiling."

"They're laughing."

"But..."

"...it doesn't feel genuine."

The smile faded from my face.

"It feels..."

"...heavy."

"Like..."

"...everyone is carrying something they don't want anyone else to see."

"...Fear."

"...Anxiety."

"...Resentment."

I rubbed my forehead.

"...Maybe I'm just imagining things."

Rerisa remained silent.

She looked toward the courtyard.

She saw nothing unusual.

Only smiling faces.

Only ordinary conversations.

Yet...

Vinaas wasn't someone who exaggerated.

"...Interesting..."

She whispered almost to herself.

"What?"

She smiled gently.

"Nothing."

"I was merely thinking..."

"...perhaps you're far more observant than you realize."

I accepted the explanation.

It sounded reasonable enough.

But as I watched the people beyond the garden...

The strange heaviness refused to disappear.

The warm fragrance of chamomile lingered between them as the conversation gradually drifted into silence.

Vinaas quietly watched the leaves sway above the garden while Saint Rerisa carefully returned several dried herbs to their woven basket.

The peaceful atmosphere didn't last long.

Footsteps hurried across the stone pathway.

"Saint Rerisa!"

A young deacon stopped a few meters away, breathing heavily.

She turned toward him.

"What is it?"

"The Holy Council has been called."

"An emergency session."

"The Royal Envoys arrived only moments ago."

"They've requested the presence of  Saint immediately."

Rerisa's gentle smile faded.

"...I understand."

The deacon bowed before quickly disappearing down the garden path.

Rerisa let out a quiet sigh.

"It seems my break is over."

Vinaas tilted his head.

"Is something wrong?"

She forced a reassuring smile.

"I don't know yet."

"But councils held without prior notice..."

She looked toward the Cathedral's towering central spire.

"...are rarely good news."

She stood from her chair.

"I'm afraid we'll have to continue our conversation another day."

Vinaas nodded.

"Thank you for the tea."

She smiled warmly.

"And thank you for finally smiling."

Deep within the Cathedral stood the Grand Council Hall.

Unlike the halls where Heroes trained or priests gathered for prayer, this chamber existed for only one purpose—

To decide the future of humanity.

The hall had been carved into a great semicircle.

Rows of elevated white marble seats rose step by step like an ancient amphitheater, allowing every official a clear view of the center.

Below them, a broad U-shaped table stretched across the chamber for distinguished guests and representatives from the allied kingdoms.

At the very front...

Upon a raised platform...

Sat the throne-like seat of the Pope.

To his right sat Saint Rerisa 

To his left sat Razel Standford The Head Court Mage of Dorad Empire

Gradually...

The chamber filled.

Royal Envoys.

Archbishops.

Cardinals.

Bishops.

Nobles from allied kingdoms.

Military advisers.

Senior instructors responsible for training the summoned Heroes.

Their conversations ceased the moment Pope kennedy Benedict entered.

Everyone stood.

The Pope raised one hand.

"Be seated."

The chamber fell silent.

A Royal Envoy rose from his seat.

He carried a sealed report bearing the crest of the Kingdom of Dorad.

"Your Holiness."

"I bring urgent news from the Northeastern Front."

Without waiting for a response, he opened the document.

"Three days ago..."

"...Fort Stellar fell."

Silence.

Even the rustling of parchment seemed unusually loud.

"The surviving civilians have been evacuated."

"However..."

"The defending force suffered catastrophic losses."

He continued.

"Five hundred active soldiers were confirmed dead."

"The remaining forces have retreated toward Fortress Enyo."

Several nobles lowered their heads.

The envoy paused before speaking again.

"...Commander Hawks."

"He died holding the eastern gate."

Many within the chamber knew the name.

Commander Hawks had earned his reputation through decades of service.

It was said that during the Battle of Red Valley...

He alone had cut down an entire horde of monsters while protecting retreating civilians.

Even Razel lowered his gaze.

The envoy folded the report.

"Fort Stellar has been lost."

The silence lingered before another official stood.

"Our medical divisions report severe shortages."

"The wounded continue arriving from the front."

"Our Divine Healers have reached their limits."

Saint Rerisa quietly nodded.

"I can confirm the report."

"Several healers have already exhausted their mana reserves."

"If the number of wounded continues increasing..."

"...we will require additional healers from every western diocese."

The Pope answered calmly.

"Approved."

"No wounded soldier shall be turned away."

A noble from the Kingdom of Dorad rose next.

"The kingdoms are growing impatient."

"They ask why the Heroes remain within Cathedral walls."

"They expected saviors."

"Not students."

Several voices quietly agreed.

Before the discussion could escalate—

Razel Standford spoke.

"They have been in this world for less than a week."

"Would you send children onto a battlefield?"

The noble frowned.

"And would you have us defend our kingdoms with hope alone?"

The atmosphere immediately became tense.

The Pope slowly raised his hand.

Silence returned.

"The Heroes shall continue their training."

"They will not be treated as disposable weapons."

"No further discussion."

No one challenged the decision.

One after another...

Reports continued.

The progress of each Hero.

Training schedules.

Supply routes.

The movement of Demon forces.

Evacuation plans.

Every subject pointed toward the same conclusion.

Humanity had entered a war it was slowly beginning to lose.

Nearly two hours later...

The Pope closed the final report.

"The official matters have concluded."

"If there is nothing further..."

"You are dismissed."

Chairs slid across marble.

Royal Envoys offered respectful bows before leaving.

The nobles followed.

Military advisers departed alongside the instructors.

The enormous doors slowly closed behind them.

Only a handful remained.

The Pope.

The Saints.

The Cardinals.

The Bishops.

Silence returned to the chamber.

The Pope rested both hands upon the table.

His expression became far more solemn than before.

He slowly looked around the room.

"..."

"...Now."

No one spoke.

"Let us discuss..."

"...the matter concerning Hero Candidate Vinaas Nullka."