Veronica had killed the Pope.
“Child, fear not the thunder of cannons,” the Pope had been saying. “It’s just the Bahamuts’ assault, just as you once prophesied.”
His eyes gleamed without a trace of fear toward the Bahamuts.
“I’ve been watching you closely since that divine revelation. You asked me if showing you this forbidden tome was an act of mercy before death? No, child. I wanted to know how you discovered the secrets of the wilderness.”
She realized then that the dread he had shown all this time stemmed not from the monsters, but from God’s absence. The aged Pope was truly someone who would welcome martyrdom with satisfaction, even as his limbs were torn asunder—a man who sought the Divine with every fiber of his being.
“But watching your reaction, I realized that you’d never read this text before,” the Pope continued. “Such utter shock upon your face! This confirms my suspicion that your prophecy was no performance but divine truth. It means you truly harbor God within your mortal vessel.”
And then she’d…
Veronica squeezed her eyes shut against the torrent of memories. Her heart hammered against her ribs as though it were trying to escape. Her limbs trembled uncontrollably.
This isn’t my first killing. I already killed Benjamin, that bandit, and the imperial knight. But this time…
“I’ve done something terrible,” she whispered.
Even Leon might abandon me now.
“I… His Holiness is—”
“Veronica.”
Leon strode forward, cutting her words short as he cupped her face between his calloused hands. The familiar scent of steel and leather washed over her.
“First, steady your breathing,” he whispered with practiced calm.
Veronica raised her hollow eyes to meet his gaze. He focused solely on her, as if she were the last soul in a dying world.
The wind ceased its howling.
The explosive cacophony receded into the distance. As her breathing steadied, her frayed nerves began to calm. Feeling tears threatening to spill, she clenched her fists until her knuckles whitened.
What am I thinking? After everything we’ve been through, he wouldn’t turn away now.
“I… I killed His Holiness. He wanted to behead me. He was convinced I harbored the divine essence, and that severing my head would summon God back to the wilderness.”
Leon’s face hardened, but that was his only reaction. He didn’t withdraw his hands from her face.
Drawing strength from his unwavering presence, Veronica haltingly recalled the blood-soaked scene.
“He ordered his executioners to… cleave my head in two. I was only defending myself, and I never meant to kill him… but everything went wrong. I grabbed a sword and fled, then collided with Oscar on the stairway… I escaped and climbed aboard a weapons wagon when I saw the Papal Office was on fire.”
Even as she spoke, everything felt more like a nightmare than something that had actually happened. She hadn’t known that a human face could look so twisted with madness before. The Pope had obviously loved God with desperate fervor, more than any other living soul. Veronica remembered being scared of him, retreating a step or two, but she’d never intended to end his life—not even when the hulking executioners seized her arms and raised their gleaming axes.
She couldn’t have foreseen that the axe she deflected would fly and embed itself in the Pope’s skull. It had been a terrible accident and a fatal mistake.
With a sickening crack, his face had frozen in eternal shock, eyes wide and unblinking.
He hadn’t died instantly—he’d gasped and gurgled, reaching toward her with trembling fingers. Blood and gray matter had oozed over his small, obsidian eyes. He’d finally glimpsed what he’d sought all his life, only to have it snatched away right before his eyes.
Perhaps what had streamed down his face hadn’t been blood or brain matter, but tears of divine irony. God had given him everything except the one thing he truly desired.
Leon, who had been silent all this time, broke his silence. “The Papal Office caught fire?”
He withdrew his hands and stepped outside the canvas tent. Even from this distance, they could clearly see the pristine white Papal Office billowing black smoke into the heavens.
After staring at the inferno consuming the uppermost floor, Leon slowly lowered his gaze. His eyes, now devoid of emotion, were dark and cold.
“Most of the knights were raised to think of the Pope as their spiritual father. Speaking of this would be signing your death warrant.”
He means I should keep this buried deep.
“But…”
“The body has already burned,” Leon stated quietly. He sounded certain, as if he’d been standing there himself as the Pope’s body turned to ashes.
Just then, a soldier approached, preventing Veronica from asking him how he was so certain. Leon received something from the soldier and swept back his disheveled hair.
“Wait in the tent. This is no time for a lengthy conversation.”
He was clearly preparing to join the battle. Veronica suddenly came back to her senses.
“You’re going to fight, aren’t you?” she asked urgently. “Take me with you. Your forces are stretched thin.”
“Veronica.”
“I won’t push myself to the limit like before. I promise. Today I’ll be careful. Please, let me do something—anything.”
If I sit idly with only my thoughts, I’ll go mad.
The tumult of emotions that had been building since the plaza had peaked when she witnessed bloodshed. Regardless of the Pope’s mistakes and misdeeds, she had killed a revered holy figure. The horrific spray of crimson remained seared in her mind.
Leon silently observed her labored breathing while thunderous cannon fire quickened her already racing heart.
“Once you go up on that wall, you can’t come down until nightfall,” he said. “Rest periods will be brief—an hour or two at most.”
“I don’t care.”
Faced with her determination, Leon dragged a hand across his sharp features.
Finally, he reluctantly nodded his permission, his voice heavy with fatigue. “I’ll send an apprentice knight to guide you. Defend the section he indicates. Stay away from the central battlements. That’s all I’ll concede.”
His jawline seemed sharper than she remembered. Only then did she notice he had lost weight during their separation. But there was no time for further conversation, not in the middle of a war.
“Please, don’t push yourself too far,” Leon said before turning away.
Another earsplitting explosion tore through the air.