Chapter 9 Part 1

At length, Sharun’s gaze shifted to Aksion.

“And what about you, Aksion?” she asked with a shy smile, different from before. The knights’ faces hardened. Aksion looked down at the Holy Maiden with a cold stare.

“I don’t recall giving you permission to call me by my name,” he said, causing Sharun’s lips to twitch. The smile faltered, and Aksion asked mockingly, “I find you suspicious.”

His cold gaze pushed Sharun back, chilling the atmosphere around them. In the ensuing silence, Marcus exploded with anger.

“How dare you speak to the Holy Maiden like that! She is already recognized by the Duke himself. Are you now doubting both the Duke and the Holy Maiden?” Marcus seethed with rage. Another elder clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“To be formally recognized as a successor, one must receive a blessing. Such behavior is outrageous,” he said. Traditionally, Mahart’s heirs receive a blessing from the temple before inheriting their titles. This ritual was a key part of acknowledging the next successor.

“Holy Maiden, I would be grateful if you could bless my son,” Marcus said, clasping his hands together towards Sharun. If his family’s branch received the Holy Maiden’s blessing, they could claim a right to the succession. His eyes gleamed with hope as Sharun gently held his hands.

“Do not be so angry, everyone. Those who bear many wounds often lash out. I realized this upon meeting Aksion earlier,” Sharun said soothingly.

“Have you met him before?” asked another elder. Sharun released Marcus’s hands, much to his obvious disappointment, and answered.

“Yes. I helped him manifest his holy power,” she said.

“Oh, it wasn’t just a coincidence then?” The elder’s eyes widened with realization.

Aksion’s eyebrows shot up at Sharun’s words. She made a pitiful face, displaying her helplessness.

“I wish for Mahart’s stability. This northern land is blessed by the God of Light,” she said.

“Indeed, that is true,” the elders echoed her words as if it was a rehearsed script. Only Aksion growled, finding the situation intolerable.

“What nonsense is this?” he muttered. Holy power could only be manifested through one’s own strength. Even Elia thought Sharun’s story was pure fabrication. The fact that the elders believed it was baffling.

A tense atmosphere hung over the place, as if a sword might be drawn at any moment.

“Such ingratitude…” Marcus grumbled, his face contorted in frustration. Sharun, acting like she was above it all, shook her head and extended her hand towards Aksion.

“Then, I shall take my leave,” she said calmly, offering her hand to Aksion.

Kissing the Holy Maiden’s hand was considered an act of great reverence, especially for followers of the God of Light. But Aksion did not take her hand.

It was Duke Tartan who finally took Sharun’s hand. Having arrived upon hearing the commotion, he shielded her behind him.

“This lady is a true Holy Maiden,” he declared.

“Even so, I will never kiss her hand,” Aksion replied, his tone fierce. His entourage remained tense, prepared for a confrontation.

The sound of someone sobbing broke the tension. Sharun, hidden behind the Duke, wiped away her tears.

“It saddens me that Aksion is hostile towards me,” she said softly.

“He has always been like that,” Marcus said hastily, trying to comfort her. She bit her lip, her expression sorrowful.

“It’s alright. It is a Holy Maiden’s duty to care for the wounded. Duke, elders, will you escort me?” Sharun asked.

“It would be an honor,” they responded, each offering a hand. She gently placed her hands on theirs, and they led her away. Watching their retreating figures, Aksion muttered.

“What a pity,” he said.

Was Aksion secretly hoping for a blessing too? Elia wondered. But his next words shattered her misconception.

“If I had to endure any longer, I would have broken her wrist,” he said coldly, his gaze still fixed on Sharun. Elia, shocked, could not say a word.

When she looked at Aksion again, he had returned to his usual gentle self. The knights surrounded Elia, each with a comment.

“That strange person is disrupting the sanctity of the castle. Don’t you agree?”

“If she’s a cleric, she should be at the temple, not causing trouble here,” another said.

The entire Silver Knights Order seemed to reject Sharun, a sentiment that puzzled Elia.

“Jacob, do you think she’s a fake Holy Maiden?” she asked. Jacob shrugged.

“Whether she’s real or fake doesn’t matter to me. I just don’t like how she’s stirring up the castle. The Duke’s reaction to her is also unusual,” he said.

Indeed, Duke Tartan’s behavior towards Sharun was excessive.

“But are you feeling alright? I heard you’ve been unwell since catching a cold,” he asked with concern.

“Thank you for asking. I’m fine,” Elia replied.

Even as the subjugation continued, she had to pretend to be ill. The knights were rough around the edges but kind-hearted. Elia felt warmth from them.

Aksion seemed to be preparing for a journey. Elia noticed that their attire was lighter than usual and asked, “Where are you headed?”

“We’re going to the estate. Some parts of it were flooded last night,” Aksion explained. Mahart Castle, situated on high ground, was safe, but parts of the estate were submerged.

Jacob threw an arm around a knight’s neck and ruffled his short-cropped hair.

“His family lives at the edge of the estate. We’re going to help rebuild their home after the flood,” he said.

“Oh, hello, young lady,” the knight greeted Elia awkwardly, blushing.

Elia smiled back and turned to Aksion. “May I come along?”

“If you wish,” he replied, implying she didn’t need permission. Jacob and the knights warmly welcomed her.

“We would be delighted to have you with us, young lady.”

“Then let’s go together,” she said.

Being welcomed felt wonderful. Elia glanced around the knights and noticed someone missing.

“Where is Chelsid?” she asked.

“Oh, he’s currently in seclusion training,” Jacob replied.

“What kind of training?” Elia asked, puzzled by the unfamiliar term. 

Aksion stepped in to explain. “It’s a tradition of the Silver Knights.”

“Is it? That’s interesting,” she said, thinking every place had its own traditions.

‘He is the youngest, despite his temperament,’ she thought.

Given his playful nature, he seemed to be of higher rank, but his resilience was remarkable.

“Have you all gone through this training?” she asked.

“Well, yes,” the knights nodded awkwardly.

“Please convey my best wishes for his successful completion,” she said.

“Of course, young lady,” Jacob replied, his tone somewhat stiff. Elia didn’t think much of it, though the knights were still exchanging uneasy glances.

“Shall we go then?” Aksion said.

“Yes, please take care of everything,” Elia replied.

This was her first time visiting the estate as part of Mahart. She went to the stables and brought out her white horse, Elsha, who wagged her tail joyfully at seeing her after a long time.

“Have you been well?” she asked. Everyone knew Elsha was Elia’s horse, and as a spirit caller, she couldn’t ride her horse publicly before.

Elsha neighed as if answering her. Aksion and Elia mounted their horses and rode off.

The Mahart estate consisted of the main land and dozens of smaller villages.

‘The entire northern region belongs to Mahart.’

Its size rivaled that of a grand duchy in any empire, making management twice as challenging as other noble lands.

The knights led the way down a forest path. The estate below became visible, revealing many villages flooded. Elia clicked her tongue. She hadn’t noticed yesterday, but it seemed a flood had occurred.

‘It looks like the rain was concentrated here.’