### Chapter: 214
Tersada hadn’t yet caught onto Kraush and his daughter’s plan.
Kraush was making his way to the Holy Grail.
Surprisingly, this path led to the central building in the bustling plaza of Freeman, where the most foot traffic was.
In the center of Freeman stood a fountain decorated with statues of the gods.
This fountain was a famous sightseeing spot, known for being where the gods supposedly washed their hands, with visitors forbidden from entering its radius.
Surrounding this fountain was the central building, a masterpiece created by a renowned architect.
Arriving at their destination, Kraush and his group navigated through the throngs of people, as an influx of festival-goers flooded the area due to the God’s Festival.
“If those people find out the Saint is among them, it’ll cause chaos.”
Kraush muttered, tightening his grip on the hand he was holding.
He well understood the implications, so as a joke, he lightly slapped his own hand, releasing some of the tension.
The hand he held belonged to none other than Astrea.
With the crowd so thick, they were constraining themselves to simply holding hands to move forward.
“Don’t get lost, stay close and keep holding hands. It’ll draw less attention if we’re two instead of many,” Kraush recalled Aslan’s advice.
Aslan had suggested that while he and Diona followed behind, the two of them should move on first.
“W-wait, holding hands?”
Astrea stammered, clearly flustered. Meanwhile, Kraush, without thinking, reached out his hand towards her.
Having spent quite a bit of time with Astrea in previous cycles, he was used to these kinds of situations where they desperately tried to escape together.
“Ah,”
But then it hit him—he hadn’t done this in this cycle.
When he looked at Astrea, her face was utterly stiff.
That expression looked familiar and unchanged over the years. Kraush now recognized it as one meant to hide her embarrassment.
Whether in the past or now, she evidently had harbored feelings for him.
While he felt a mix of pity and awkwardness about that fact, a thought struck him.
Had he noticed this earlier, it might have been different, but Kraush had someone in mind to marry now.
Astrea surely understood this too. But he knew sentiment didn’t change overnight.
“I’ve acted so carelessly.”
As Kraush mulled over his unintentional actions, he suddenly noticed Astrea slowly lifting her hand.
With her eyes tightly shut and her head bowed, she timidly reached out her hand.
Not a handshake, but what was this gesture? Kraush was a bit dumbfounded but accepted her outstretched hand without hesitation.
“Ugh.”
Astrea stiffened, her face turning a deep shade of red from the simple act.
Seeing her reaction made Kraush reminisce about a past incident – how Astrea had directly asked him for a date.
That date, which he missed due to Mary’s situation.
During that time, Astrea wasn’t hurt because he couldn’t go, but rather disappointed that he failed to heed her warnings about overworking himself.
“Recently, it seems like I’ve returned to even worse behavior than before.”
Strangely enough, while looking at Astrea now, she was different compared to back then.
Even after witnessing Kraush overwork himself, her gaze held a strong determination, promising to support him.
“Is this change due to the path I’m taking?”
People in his life seemed to reveal different sides of themselves as he moved forward.
While it made him uneasy, it wasn’t entirely unfavored.
He felt that this tiny change might one day spread throughout the world and eventually alter the course of everything.
“Am I moving in the right direction?”
He couldn’t truly know. But one thing was for sure.
“I vow not to regret the opportunities given to me again.”
Life’s opportunities rarely come around twice.
Having already missed one chance, Kraush was absolutely determined not to let it slip away now.
He tightened his grip on Astrea’s hand.
She was one of the opportunities he desperately wanted to protect.
He wouldn’t create a world where he would lose Astrea ever again.
“I’ll hold on tight.”
Kraush stated, ensuring he wouldn’t let go this time, although maybe not the best thing to say to Astrea, his voice was genuine.
“…Okay.”
At Kraush’s words, Astrea offered a soft smile.
Recognizing that it was genuine happiness, Kraush couldn’t help but smile back.
Thus, Kraush and Astrea set forth on their path to the Holy Grail.
Astrea trailed closely behind, her robe’s hood pulled low over her face.
Moreover, with a mask resembling a festival spirit, no one around could tell that she was there.
“Hide the wood in the forest,”
People mostly don’t pay attention when caught up in a crowd.
“Astrea, look over there, they’re selling sausages! Should I buy one?”
“Are you messing around at a time like this?”
Now somewhat used to holding hands, Astrea’s tone was curt, making Kraush chuckle lightly.
“It’s a festival. You should enjoy festivals too.”
She had always been the festival’s organizer.
In fact, she had never experienced the festival for herself.
Catching onto Kraush’s intention, Astrea raised her head gradually.
Up in the sky, decorations hung to commemorate the God’s Festival.
Nearby, a child with an excited expression was munching on skewered treats with their parents.
Some appeared to be merchants playfully trying on headbands they sold, clearly smitten with each other.
Street vendors excitedly promoted their delicious foods.
A musician, clutching their instrument, showcased colorful performances.
Astrea had only ever watched from a distance, but today was the first time seeing all this up close.
The festival, in her eyes, had always resembled tiny moving dots.
The small lights swaying about the street were a sight to behold but lacked vibrancy.
Whenever the Saint passed by, people always bowed their heads with solemnity.
Astrea had never truly seen their faces.
As her gaze shifted forward, she saw Kraush’s back, who was leading her by the hand.
Walking with vigor, he didn’t falter for a moment.
It was the first time she followed someone’s back with a vague sense of joy during a festival.
She had always lived her life as a saint, caged in a gilded cage.
The heat in their clasped hands puzzled her.
While she had initially blamed the crowd for the reckless hold, upon recognizing it, she suddenly felt shy.
“Astrea.”
At that moment, Kraush called her name.
“You look like a festival newbie.”
Kraush joked playfully, making Astrea’s face blush even more visible through her mask.
Was she mad? Or embarrassed?
“Almost there.”
Right then, Kraush stopped in his tracks.
Somehow, they had entered a small alleyway between buildings.
Taking a glance back, Aslan and Diona were just entering the side path as well.
Kraush nodded their way upon meeting their eyes.
Mirei would still be with Tersada, likely continuing her act via her skill ‘Mirror.’
They should have bought some time.
With a swift motion, Aslan raised his finger and lowered it.
Suddenly, sounds around them vanished.
It was Silence Magic.
No sooner had Aslan cast the spell than Kraush stood by the door.
The door was warded with divine protection.
Kraush grasped Rain Thunder Prime.
As the moment came, a blade of black flame erupted from Rain Thunder Prime.
Kraush swung the sword without hesitation, slicing the door in half.
The door, along with the divine ward, collapsed inward silently.
Thanks to the Silence, Kraush stepped inside with pounding feet, revealing an interior decked out like a tavern, marked by signs of battle all around.
It was evident that the opposition had attacked the location of the Holy Grail.
“Are we late?”
Astrea cautiously asked, causing Kraush to shift his gaze.
The signs of struggle pointed right toward a warehouse where alcohol was stored.
There was a way leading down to the underground beneath it.
“No, we’re not late.”
Kraush’s instincts led him clearly to the underground.
Below, several presences stirred in unison.
“Astrea, you know what’s the most enjoyable thing in the world?”
Kraush grinned maliciously beside Aslan and Diona, who were getting ready to make their move underground.
“Taking advantage when they’re busy fighting among themselves.”
Astlan raised an eyebrow, a bit worried as he glanced toward Astrea.
Wouldn’t she be somewhat disappointed seeing him act like that, given how she felt toward him?
Yet, Astrea looked at Kraush with a half-relaxed expression.
Aslan sighed, relieved.
“Guess the Saint appreciates that kind of smile after all.”
—
Eyes darting about, multiple wounds marred the body of a figure clad in black, looking anything but a follower of the Holy Church.
This was Benox, the head Inquisition officer of the opposition.
Today, he was ordered to eliminate those heretics making a mockery of the saintly image, targeting the Holy Grail’s altar.
After interrogating a believer who frequented the Holy Grail, he secured the key and entered the altar when—
He faced traps and the royal knight order of the holy royal family that filled the interior.
It seemed the Holy Royal Family was also aware of the situation.
In preparation for any circumstance, they had stationed their knights at the Holy Grail.
“For the everlasting glory of Freeman!”
Benox cried as he collided with his Inquisition officers against the royal knights.
While the royal knights held a reputation for strength, they were not the strongest in Freeman.
They were like delicate flowers raised in a greenhouse.
Most of the rough jobs were usually performed by Inquisition officers or regular holy knights.
So, it made sense that despite their superior aura output, they faltered under the crazed onslaught of the Inquisition officers, their formation disarrayed.
Both sides had prepared extensively to breach the path to the Holy Grail.
With the reckless fighting of the Inquisition officers, the royal knights were pushed back, and a fierce battle raged in the underground.
‘Time is running out.’
Benox grimaced as he healed the burn on his arm caused by hastily regenerating his skin.
Here, he would be treated as a rebel until their goal was achieved.
The longer they took, the more danger was posed to them.
“Everyone, prepare!”
Benox decisive ordered.
As his words resonated, one of the Inquisition officers stepped before the knights, setting up a shield with a divine ward.
As the royal knights glanced in perplexity at this act—
“For eternal glory of Freeman!”
He shouted before a brilliant white blaze erupted from his body.
“Insane!”
It was too late for the royal knights to react as the Inquisition officer charged toward them.
In a flash, a burst of light was released from him.
Kwahhhhhh!
With a tremendous explosion that shook the very ground, the formation of the royal knights disintegrated.
This was a divine self-detonation, converging the divine power dwelling within him to become an explosive barrier.
The royal knights’ formation collapsed as Inquisition officers rushed in.
They stormed in as their formation rattled, casting divine healing spells upon themselves, moving wildly.
As a result, the royal knights found themselves on the defensive.
“Doing this underground? Do you all want to die?”
A royal knight shouted in distress.
Given the chaos from the self-detonation, death loomed over everyone.
Rebuked by the knight’s comment, Benox replied indifferently.
“That too must be the will of the gods. At least the Holy Grail will surely be destroyed.”
Benox maintained his stoic demeanor, yet madness brimmed in his eyes.
“……Crazy bastards.”
It dawned on the royal knight just how deranged the Inquisition officers were, leaving him momentarily stupefied.
But soon after—
Benox’s axe fell upon his neck.
Kwahh!
As Benox kicked the severed head aside, he stepped forward.
Ahead, he spotted several priests desperately erecting a divine ward at the door.
“Here we go.”
From Benox’s axe bloomed a red aura.
At that moment, a brilliant spark erupted as he hurled his axe.
Kwahh!
The weapon shredded through the priest standing guard and the divine ward, ripping through the door like a piece of cloth.
Having turned the door into tatters, he advanced without hindrance.
His goal was clear: to seize the Holy Grail and escape to the surface.
But just then, Benox sensed an approaching presence and tried to retreat.
Before he could, a black blade already rushed toward his face.
Despite his years of experience serving as an Inquisition officer, having risen to the role of commander, this was quicker than he anticipated.
His eyes widened in disbelief as he caught sight of the familiar blue hair behind the blade.
But it was far too late.
The blade had already shattered his visage, sending him crashing against the wall of the underground space, which collapsed under the impact.
As he fought to regain consciousness, he felt a sharp pain on his neck.
Someone was coming to make sure he wouldn’t get back up.
They were formidable.
A veteran hardened by experiences.
“Sleep now.”
Before Benox could even make an inquiry about their identity, his consciousness slipped away along with a final blow to the back of his head.
The only thing left grasped tightly in his hand was the magical communication device, rolling quietly across the floor.
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