SOTBW - 144

“Long time no see. It’s been almost a month, hasn’t it?”

Gwyneth, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, spoke with a sly grin.

Gwyneth stared at Maximón as he approached the desk. He had tried hard to forget that Maximón was Sainth, but facing the man himself was uncomfortable. It felt as if he should bow his head and worship him on the spot…

Gwyneth, with a sour expression, glanced at Maximón again.

Maximón, sitting in his chair, scanned the documents he needed to sign and spoke dryly.

“What brings you here?”

“I have a favor to ask.”

“Go ahead.”

“It’s about Amelia…”

“No.”

Maximón cut him off before Gwyneth could even finish.

“Do you know what I was going to say?”

“You came to ask me to exclude Amelia from the soldiers, didn’t you?”

“…You know me well.”

“By His Majesty’s order, we’re selecting female soldiers to test their usefulness. I don’t know why you want to exclude Amelia, but since she volunteered herself, I can’t remove her now.”

At Maximón’s words, Gwyneth scoffed.

“Volunteered? More like you forced her.”

“Did she say that?”

“Isn’t it obvious without her saying it?”

Maximón raised an eyebrow at Gwyneth’s sarcasm.

“Amelia Royan became a soldier of her own will. Each knight order is also selecting female soldiers to train in Recheo, so I can’t change her status until the evaluation is complete.”

“She can’t die in the field.”

“No soldier should die in the field.”

“…It’s so strange hearing that from you, of all people.”

Maximón didn’t respond further. He clearly had no intention of discussing Amelia’s situation any longer. Stubbornly, he kept his mouth shut and continued signing documents.

Gwyneth watched him for a moment before adopting an equally resolute expression.

“If you won’t let Amelia go, then I’ll have no choice but to write to His Holiness the Pope.”

At that, the ink pen in Maximón’s hand stopped mid-stroke. He watched as the paper absorbed the ink, turning black, before slowly lifting his head.

Was Gwyneth really going to contact the Pope over someone like Amelia?

Maximón’s eyes twisted fiercely.

“Amelia Royan is just a maid.”

“She’s special.”

“Special? She’s useless and greedy—nothing but a parasite.”

“So, you did deliberately make her a soldier.”

Gwyneth narrowed his eyes.

“You’re such a petty, childish brat. How could someone like you…”

Sainth. How could someone as cruel, arrogant, and reckless as you be Sainth Philux? Not a reincarnation, but Sainth himself!

Gwyneth swallowed the words he wanted to hurl and let out a deep sigh.

“The decision on whether to deploy female soldiers will be made in about ten days. After that, no matter what happens, I’ll take Amelia with me.”

“If she’s still alive in ten days, do as you please.”

Gwyneth, angered by Maximón’s words, opened his mouth to retort but then closed it. Arguing further would only lead to a fight. Gwyneth found Maximón far more unsettling than before. While he wanted to save Amelia, knowing Maximón’s true identity made him reluctant to clash with him as he once had.

Gwyneth was about to leave the office when Maximón set down his pen and said, “Wait a moment,” stopping him in his tracks.

Gwyneth turned back to look at him.

Maximón hesitated for a moment before speaking, as if the words were reluctant to leave his lips.

“I have a question to ask.”

“What is it?”

“Is it possible for someone to remember their past life?”

“…Past life?”

Gwyneth’s expression, previously irritated, shifted dramatically. He removed his hand from the doorknob and turned fully to face Maximón.

In the past, Gwyneth would have scoffed at such a question, dismissing it as nonsense. But coming from Maximón, it carried a different weight.

‘Maximón isn’t Seriths—he’s Sainth.’

‘Sainth didn’t die.’

Recalling Mahilen’s words, Gwyneth asked in return, “Why are you suddenly asking that?”

“No particular reason. I’ve been personally curious about such things, but I have nowhere to find answers, so I thought I’d ask you.”

He’s hiding something.

Gwyneth, sensing something suspicious, considered pressing further but instead shrugged nonchalantly.

“As far as I know, it’s impossible… but who knows? People obsessed with their past lives might carry certain memories in their souls, never forgetting them even after reincarnating.”

“…I see.”

Maximón’s reaction was indifferent. Gwyneth wanted to ask if something had happened, but he held back, fearing Maximón might become defensive.

“Is that all you wanted to say?”

“It’s fine that you’re working at the cathedral, but don’t leave your room unattended for too long.”

Maximón spoke in a businesslike tone as he picked up his pen again. Gwyneth gave him a bewildered look.

“Well, look at this. Now you’re meddling in my personal life?”

“There’s been something strange happening in your room.”

“What do you mean?”

“Late at night, I’ve heard someone humming a song in your room. It didn’t sound like your voice, so I opened the door to check. But there was no one inside.”

“…A song? In my room?”

Gwyneth was utterly baffled by this.

Maximón still remembered the song he had accidentally overheard when he visited the knights’ quarters to fetch Najane, who was with Daniel. He couldn’t tell if it was a prank, a haunting, or if he was losing his mind.

But he was certain someone had been singing in Gwyneth’s room.

“Do you remember the lyrics?”

Instead of singing, Maximón wrote the lyrics on a piece of paper and handed it to Gwyneth. Gwyneth stepped closer to the desk and read the words.

“Where the desolate wind blows, there is always a dragon.”

The one who loved and envied fleeting life, watch as the meteor shower falls.

Ah, our names are stars, stars, stars, stars that plummet to the earth.

One star is flame, one star is ice, one star is healing, and one star is death.

The flame turned to ash and vanished, and the ice melted, becoming water.

A star born with nothing awakened its own sanctity,

but another star born with nothing eventually shattered.

The broken star sank into the river formed by the melted ice but no longer shone.

O you with golden eyes, the one who has grasped the truth yet sinned with arrogance,

when the meteor shower falls, pierce through the darkness and retrieve the shattered star.

One star is flame, one star is reincarnation, one star is sacrifice, and one star is death.

Ah, our names are stars, stars, stars, stars that once fell to the earth.

Where something new is about to begin, there is always a dragon.

Gwyneth read the lyrics and tilted her head in puzzlement.

“This sounds like a song I know, but the lyrics are a bit different.”

Gwyneth took an ink pen and wrote different lines beneath the lyrics.

Where desolate ruins are guarded, there is always a dragon.

The one who loved and sought to protect fleeting life, watch as the meteor shower lights up the night.

Ah, their names are stars, stars, stars, stars that descended to the earth.

One star is flame, one star is ice, one star is divinity, and one star is resurrection.

The flame became the sun, casting away shadows, and the ice turned to water, cycling through the land.

A star born with nothing gained its own strength,

and another star born with nothing proved its courage with its very life.

All living things are the great stars that brighten the night.

O you with golden eyes, when the meteor shower falls, once more light up the night with the stars.

The risen flame will turn to ash once again,

but the ice will endure for millennia, unbroken.

Divinity will awaken the meaning of life and once more protect the people.

Ah, their names are stars, stars, stars, stars that descended to the earth.

Where something new is about to begin, there is always a dragon.

Maximón followed the lines Gwyneth had written with his eyes. They were only slightly similar to the song lyrics he had heard in Gwyneth’s room but were mostly different.

Humming the song, Gwyneth placed her pen back into the inkwell. Though the lyrics were different, the melody was identical to the one Maximón had heard that day.

“Is this a famous song?”

“You’re from Bastronia, and you’ve never attended the Sacrificial Festival even once? This is ‘The Astrun Hymn,’ written by Lord Aron Noctis. It’s a choir standard. Anyone you ask on the street will know it.”

Gwyneth scolded Maximón as if he were unusually peculiar.

But Gwyneth was right. Maximón had only ever been to church three times in his life—when he was adopted and baptized, during his coming-of-age ceremony, and before deploying to Noctis. Even on those occasions, he hadn’t gone to the church itself. Instead, he had invited the priest to the Elgort estate to perform the rites.

Edwin had strongly opposed Maximón attending church. He didn’t approve of him studying scripture or taking an interest in the Holy Church. Since Maximón had little interest in religion, he complied with Edwin’s wishes.

What’s ironic, however, is that Edwin himself was more devout in following the Holy Church and Sylin than anyone else. Perhaps Edwin feared that the priests might discover the truth about the son he had raised as his own.

Maximón mulled over the lyrics Gwyneth had written for quite some time before setting the paper down. Just as he was about to thank her, Gwyneth leaned on the desk with both hands, scrutinizing him intently.

“Let me ask you something, too.”

With her head slightly tilted, Gwyneth stared piercingly into Maximón’s eyes.

“Did you really ask about reincarnation without any particular reason?”

“Yes.”

Maximón answered without hesitation. Gwyneth raised an eyebrow at his anticipated response, but that was all. He wanted to ask her more, but considering Venus, it was about time he returned to the church.

Venus, in recent days, had been researching a new ritual formula discovered in Najane’s body, even as rumors spread among nearby priests that he was turning into a half-deranged wreck.

Scratching her ear, Gwyneth removed her hands from the desk. Life had been so hectic lately that it seemed she was paying for all her past laziness. She had no time to catch her breath.

Clicking her tongue in dissatisfaction, Gwyneth reluctantly left the captain’s office. But just as she was halfway out the door, she seemed uneasy. She pointed a finger at Maximón and spoke sharply.

“Don’t bother Amelia. I’ve already marked her as mine. Just so you know, if you don’t hand her over willingly, I’ll write a letter to His Holiness the Pope, got it?”

The door to the captain’s office closed with a loud bang.

Maximón stared coldly at the closed door before picking up his pen again. It was unexpected that Gwyneth was so concerned about Amelia.

Maybe I should just drive Amelia out of Noctis entirely.

With an annoyed expression, Maximón bit his lip, and before he knew it, he had snapped the pen in his hand. The broken nib splattered ink across his hand, staining it black.

He let out a sigh and slumped back into his chair.

Thanks to Najane, I thought I’d have a pleasant afternoon…

Maximón pressed his ink-free hand against his forehead, his gaze wandering to the pile of mail stacked in the corner of his desk. Amid the messy pile, one envelope stood out conspicuously.

Sealed with green wax…

Maximón stared intently at the seal’s design. A bear surrounded by three pinecones—the symbol of House Rochelle. He picked up the envelope, forgetting the ink staining his hand.

The name Rachel Rochelle was written clearly on the front of the envelope.

A letter sent long ago had finally arrived in Romsoa after being delayed by the bandits occupying the lands around Elbision.