SOTBW - 209

“…Hm, my apologies. I lose myself whenever the topic of that great man comes up…”

“Aron must mean a lot to you?”

Fortunately, Rakhshu didn’t seem particularly interested in the mention of formulas. Venus, relieved in a way that didn’t show, nodded graciously.

“I hold him in the highest regard. He is the epitome of a hero who overcame adversity and rose to greatness through sheer willpower. While everyone doubted and mocked him, he trusted in himself and eventually created both divine power and thaumaturgical formulas.”

Venus spoke with evident warmth, as if he could happily debate Aron’s greatness for hours if time were infinite. His admiration for Aron was genuine.

Rakhshu, perched on the windowsill, smiled kindly like a mother hearing her child praised.

“Aron would be delighted to hear that. By the way, if you’re looking for the person you mentioned, they’ll likely be at either the training ground or the sparring arena. They’re swamped with training recruits and mercenaries these days.”

Rakhshu pointed to the left.

Venus gazed down the path lined with whitened, dried-up trees and asked for more specifics.

“The location?”

“If you follow the path to the left of the knights’ quarters, you’ll reach it soon enough.”

“I appreciate it. Let me repay you. Would a gold coin suffice?”

“No need. Money’s not necessary. To be honest, I’ve been bored lately—no one to talk to.”

Venus paused mid-motion as he reached into his pocket for coins. The image of the knights rushing off somewhere earlier came to mind. If this woman was also a knight, why wasn’t she with them? Withdrawing his hand awkwardly, Venus frowned.

“…Surely those men aren’t excluding you just because you’re a female knight?”

At Venus’ words, Rakhshu burst into laughter.

“Are you worried about me? How kind of you, Your Excellency. Fortunately, that’s not the case, so no need to worry.”

Rakhshu laughed as though she hadn’t expected anyone to concern themselves with her. Seeing her hearty laugh, Venus relaxed. It wasn’t uncommon for fools to justify discrimination based on gender differences, but Rakhshu’s response reassured him. Feeling satisfied, Venus prepared to leave, cradling the thick book back into his arms.

“Hey, Archbishop.”

For some reason, Rakhshu called out to Venus just as he was about to depart. Venus obediently turned back. Rakhshu gave him a bright yet slightly enigmatic smile, as if she had taken a liking to him.

“Since we’ve met, shall I share something interesting with you?”

“Interesting, you say?”

“The third star of Astrun, whom you admire so much, is at Noctis Fortress. If you meet him, take him on as your disciple. It’ll be quite amusing.”

The moment Rakhshu finished speaking, a loud cheer erupted from the sparring arena. Startled, Venus quickly turned toward the sound. That was where Belshua might be.

Hearing the boisterous shouts of young men, Venus suddenly lost all intention of visiting the sparring grounds. For some reason, he felt that stepping foot there would result in being kidnapped by bear-like knights and dragged off somewhere against his will. As he stared uneasily in the direction of the arena, he belatedly remembered the red-haired woman and turned back again.

But no one was there. The once-open window was now closed.

Perplexed, Venus knocked on the window, but the room—which appeared to be living quarters—was empty. Bewildered, Venus blinked rapidly, wondering how the woman could vanish in the blink of an eye. Had he really been so distracted by the cheers from the arena that he missed her closing the window?

Venus wasn’t particularly slow-witted, so he eyed the window suspiciously, feeling uneasy. But there was no point lecturing an empty room about manners, so he reluctantly walked away. As he distanced himself from the knights’ quarters, Venus tilted his head in puzzlement, unable to make sense of what had just happened.

Only later did Rakhshu’s final words linger in his mind.

The third star of Astrun is at Noctis Fortress…

The third star of Astrun referred to Aron Noctis. The first star was Rakhshu, the second was Cyrine, the third was Aron, and the fourth was Sainth. Yet here was someone claiming that Aron Noctis, who had passed away long ago, was present at this very fortress.

Cradling the book tightly, Venus let out a bemused chuckle. No matter how he thought about it, that woman was undeniably strange.

---

Meanwhile, a fierce contest of strength between the knights and mercenaries was underway at the sparring arena.

Gwyneth watched the boisterous scene with a bored expression as the men stripped to the waist, grappling and wrestling in a chaotic mess. Occasionally, his gaze flicked toward Belshua, who stood on the platform overlooking the arena. None of the people present paid any attention to Gwyneth. In fact, some of the knights didn’t even seem to know who he was. 

The mercenaries, seeing Gwyneth in his priestly robes, assumed he was a member of the Holy Church—perhaps a healing priest summoned by Belshua to tend to injuries during training. Of course, Belshua wasn’t the kind of man to call for a healer over minor training wounds, but the mercenaries, mistakenly thinking their new training commander was decent enough, gave their all to outperform the knights of Romsoa.

Gwyneth sat slouched in a chair that creaked and wobbled due to its uneven legs, wearing an indifferent expression. He had come to ask Belshua about certain formulas, only to be told to wait “just a moment.” How long that “moment” would last was unclear, but Gwyneth was in no rush—he was tired and needed a break anyway.

Lately, life had been overwhelmingly busy. Though born with a carefree nature, Gwyneth found that such a hectic pace didn’t suit him well. Between researching formulas, visiting relief shelters, fulfilling requests for blessings as winter approached, keeping an eye on Boris, who had arrived from Noctis, and now Najane’s collapse… it was all too much.

In hindsight, life back at the papal palace had been far more pleasant. Sure, there was the daily dawn prayer to contend with, but aside from that, he could spend his days idling under the pretext of being the Pope’s companion.

With a weary sigh, Gwyneth rested his chin on his hands. Come to think of it, he felt like he’d forgotten something important. What could it be? He’d already received a report that Boris had finished his breakfast and milk that morning, so what was this nagging unease?

Squinting slightly, Gwyneth observed the tangled mass of men below. Watching them might jog his memory.

At that moment, Belshua, who had been observing the mercenaries collapsing one by one onto the arena floor, descended from the platform. With the fields unusually quiet lately, everyone seemed to have grown sluggish. While many optimistically believed the Seriths wouldn’t attack again, Belshua was among those convinced this calm wouldn’t last.

To ease the burden on the soldiers stationed in the field, the mercenaries needed to be pushed harder. The Pope had prophesied that the walls of Noctis Fortress would fall and the Seriths would invade. That prophecy would surely come true soon. To avoid the worst-case scenario, training intensity had to be maintained—it was also a way to ensure Najane’s safety.

It would be a lie to say Najane’s deteriorating health didn’t weigh on his mind. But as Mahilen residing in Belshua’s body, he had to fulfill his duties as Belshua. Carrying out his responsibilities as a knight of Romsoa was another way to protect Najane.

As Belshua kept an eye on the knights until the very end, he noticed someone carefully descending the steep steps leading to the arena. The figure, clad in a robe, was clearly not a knight or soldier. Belshua narrowed his eyes slightly as he scrutinized the approaching individual.

“Your Excellency. Did you come alone?”

Belshua’s use of formal speech made Gwyneth pause momentarily before shaking his head matter-of-factly.

“Me? Yes, I came alone…”

Gwyneth trailed off mid-sentence as his eyes locked onto the robed figure weaving through the knights. Only then did he realize what—or rather, whom—he had forgotten: Venus Luamars. The instruction he had given earlier—to wait near the gate while he fetched Belshua—finally resurfaced in his mind.

Gwyneth groaned, covering his face with both hands. Meanwhile, Venus, mindful of the burly men around him, cautiously approached the platform along the edge of the arena. When he finally reached Gwyneth, his expression was one of clear disappointment.

“You completely forgot about me, didn’t you?”

“…I have no excuse. My apologies.”

Gwyneth offered a straightforward apology without hesitation. Surprisingly, Venus found himself irritated not by the apology itself but by how readily Gwyneth admitted fault. If Gwyneth had tried to deny it or make excuses, Venus might have felt justified in his frustration.

Moreover, after wandering the vast grounds of the knightly order and encountering that strange woman, Venus felt as though he were caught in some odd current, leaving him too disoriented to stay angry. Though he had plenty to say to Gwyneth for leaving him stranded, the presence of onlookers compelled him to maintain composure, settling for a polite clearing of his throat.

“We’ll discuss the details back at the cathedral. And…”

Venus glanced briefly at Belshua, who bowed his head in a gesture of respect, as any ordinary knight might. Venus awkwardly returned the gesture, feeling strangely unsettled to receive such deference from someone who had lived for tens of thousands of years.

For his part, the ancient dragon—who had lived through countless ages—showed no such discomfort as he guided the two archbishops to a secluded corner of the arena. Once they were a safe distance from the men engaged in what resembled more of a brawl than a proper test of strength, Belshua turned to them with a less-than-pleased expression.

“To show up unannounced like this… What business do you have with me?”

Venus flinched at Belshua’s words, quickly organizing his thoughts.

“…Didn’t Archbishop Spello contact you?”

“Not at all.”

Belshua’s sour reply prompted Venus to glare sharply at Gwyneth, who sheepishly avoided his gaze, offering an awkward smile instead. With a resigned sigh, Venus apologized to Belshua.

“I’m sorry. I assumed there had been an arrangement…” 

In hindsight, if there had been a prior arrangement, Gwyneth wouldn’t have left Venus standing alone in the cold while he went to fetch Belshua. Venus regretted entrusting this matter to Gwyneth and let out a deep sigh.

“We’ve committed a grave discourtesy. Please forgive us. Archbishop Spello and I merely sought your insight regarding a formula we recently discovered…”

“A formula?”

Fortunately, Belshua showed interest. Fearing the dragon might change his mind, Venus quickly retrieved a hidden sheet of paper from within his book.

Gwyneth, standing a few steps away, carefully observed Belshua’s expression. Until now, Belshua had refused most requests Gwyneth had made on behalf of others. Even the Pope’s requests were often dismissed—would he really offer any clues toward creating a new formula?

However, the moment Belshua saw the formula, his face hardened with unmistakable intensity. The sharp shift in his expression startled Gwyneth.

“Where did you get this?”

Belshua’s voice was sharp, almost accusatory. Startled, Venus turned to look at Gwyneth, silently asking whether it was alright to reveal the origin of the formula. Though Belshua didn’t press for an immediate answer, his piercing gaze remained fixed on Gwyneth.

Gwyneth hesitated, his face clouded with thought. He seemed torn about whether to explain how they had discovered the formula. Arms crossed, he lowered his gaze, lost in contemplation.

Belshua’s icy stare bore into Gwyneth’ bowed head. What did it mean that Belshua had reacted so strongly to the formula? Was it a good sign or a bad one? After a moment of serious deliberation, Gwyneth raised his eyes sharply, his brow furrowing as he tightened his jaw.

“It was found in Najane’s body.”

At the unexpected mention of her name, Belshua’s face turned pale.

Gwyneth exhaled a long breath through his nose.

“And it’s also the reason Najane fell ill so early.”