Chapter 107: The Nameless Monastery and the Royal Capital’s Secret

None of us checked into the academy; instead, we followed Bishop Ameliu all the way to a nameless monastery in the northwest corner of the Royal Capital to settle down.

The monastery was situated by the canal, surrounded by high walls and ancient trees.

The accompanying guards had already set up camp around the monastery and orderly established sentry posts, acting as if they intended to station there long-term.

However, even as Kritiya stepped through the heavy wooden doors of the monastery, the somewhat absurd phrase “competing for the Saintess” continued to linger in my mind.

It was truly difficult to imagine that such nearly blasphemous words could actually come from the mouth of a deeply learned Archbishop.

I truly could not understand how such near-blasphemous words could be spoken by an educated Archbishop.

If it were a position held by mortals, like the Pope or a Cardinal, saying “the capable shall reside” would be fine.

But a Saintess—a Saintess is a Saintess.

Even someone like me, who only has a superficial understanding of the doctrines, knows that according to the Holy Scriptures, the Saintess is the designated proxy chosen by the gods, the destined child of God.

It’s like parent and child in the mortal realm; you either are or you aren’t. How could there be any logic in deciding it through fighting or competition?

Furthermore, I knew better than anyone—where the true Saintess was at this moment.

According to the original timeline, at this moment, she was probably curled up in some unknown orphanage in the Kingdom, living her life in obscurity.

“Hey! Tiya, you understand what that Bishop meant, right?” I couldn’t help but ask.

Kritiya remained silent, merely standing blankly before the bedroom arranged for her in the monastery, examining the various furnishings in the room.

Compared to the luxurious guest room she stayed in at the Governor’s Mansion in Romern, this bedroom could be considered extremely austere.

All four walls were painted a uniform white, and there was only a bed and a table.

It looked exactly like the room of some ascetic monk.

If one had to point out something that barely counted as a decoration, it seemed to be only the carvings on the window lattice.

“It feels like it was just cleaned…” Kritiya sniffed.

I smelled it too—that faint odor of moisture mixed with fine dust floating in the air.

“According to Ameliu, each of the seven halls of the Radiant Cathedral will nominate a Candidate Saintess—this is simply treating it like a child’s game…” I reminded her.

The Hall of Sacraments, the Hall of Doctrine, the Hall of Judgment, the Hall of Clergy, the Hall of Baptism, the Hall of Scriptures, the Grand Cathedral.

These seven halls of the Papal Holy See constituted the core of the Radiant Church’s operations.

Each hall was governed by one or several Archbishops, wielding immense authority.

“This kind of thing violates doctrine; it’s impossible for Ameliu and those Archbishops not to know.”

Kritiya walked slowly to the window, reached out to lift a corner of the heavy curtains, and peered outside.

This bedroom was located in a solitary tower behind the monastery.

Through the window, one could see a small chapel across a gap, and opposite that was a low three-story building, seemingly the nuns’ residence.

Her eyes carefully measured distances and directions, trying to confirm her position in this unfamiliar environment.

“So… what exactly are they trying to do.” Doubts proliferated in my mind.

Kritiya merely shook her head dryly.

“I don’t know—the Pope just died; who knows what their plans are.”

“Let’s first see how they plan to select this so-called Saintess.”

“I suddenly realized something,” I said. “You followed the Bishop here without asking a single question.”

“Could it be… you actually want to go with the flow and compete for the position of Saintess?”

I paused, then reminded her with a serious tone:

“Don’t forget, the Holy Light left behind by the previous Saintess in the holy relic will eventually run out one day.”

Kritiya pulled the curtains closed, plunging the room into darkness.

After a moment, her lips moved slightly, and she said softly:

“I am, of course, aware of this.”

“As long as you know—this situation feels wrong no matter how you look at it. I think it would be best for us to figure out a way to extract ourselves.”

I temporarily concluded it like this.

The night was quiet, and all was silent.

Exhausted from the travel-worn journey, after eating the simple dinner brought by the nuns at the monastery, Kritiya couldn’t even muster the strength to wash up before collapsing onto the temporarily arranged bed and falling into a deep sleep.

And it was precisely in this silence that I opened my eyes.

Frankly speaking, failing to move directly into the academy as originally planned had indeed disrupted my previous deployment.

But no matter, human effort can achieve anything; this minor setback was not enough to shake my resolve.

I got up silently, my fingers brushing lightly beneath the nightgown to confirm that the hand crossbow secured to the leather belt on my thigh was safe and sound.

Then, I draped a windproof cloak over the nightgown, readying myself for a night excursion.

“Ah… I almost forgot about that item.”

A thought suddenly flashed through my mind.

I stopped my steps from moving forward and turned toward the personal luggage piled by the door.

I rummaged through it for a moment and took out a square box wrapped in blue silk threads.

It felt somewhat heavy in my hand; I stroked the smooth silk surface, pondering it playfully, but ultimately stuffed it back into its original place.

“Forget it, it’s better to leave it for Tiya to handle herself.”

I muttered to myself in a low voice, then turned and walked toward the open window, nimbly vaulting out.

This was the Royal Capital’s monastery; I didn’t dare use conspicuous dark magic lightly.

I only dared to use covert flesh magic to slightly reinforce my limbs, then used the eaves and protrusions on the outside of the tower to leap down layer by layer.

I remembered the original novel mentioned that even those black mages were extremely cautious when operating in the Royal Capital.

They must have had deep reasons for acting this way, and I naturally did not dare to rashly challenge the hidden rules.

“Good… I didn’t attract anyone’s attention.”

Everything went smoother than imagined; I effortlessly and silently vaulted over the monastery walls—which instead made me feel a hidden worry.

Lapses in defense are bidirectional; my getting out so easily meant that it would likely not be difficult for anyone with ulterior motives from the outside to sneak in.

“The defenses of this monastery are far too lax. Do I need to remind them to increase their guard?”

“But if I do that, wouldn’t it just add unnecessary trouble if I wanted to slip out in the future?”

As I pondered, I concealed my figure within the shadows on the side of the road and sneaked forward.

The guards brought by Airandil did not pose a substantial obstacle.

Although they diligently patrolled the perimeter of the monastery at night, I had already figured out the layout of their sentries.

In just a short while, I had left them behind without anyone noticing.

“Hmm, now, which direction should I head?”

After leaving the scope of the monastery, I examined the scene before me.

Should I say it lived up to being the Empire’s Royal Capital?

The grandeur was indeed vastly different from other places.

When I turned from a dark alley onto the broad main road, what entered my sight were neatly arranged magic stone streetlamps.

Even though it was late at night, the soft magical light illuminated the street as bright as day.

Pedestrians were still coming and going, and carriages were ceaseless; the curfew system seemed to exist in name only here.

“Hey! Miss! From the looks of it, you’re new to the Royal Capital, right? Where are you heading?”

A rough, enthusiastic, hoarse voice rang out.

Just by hearing this voice, I could almost sketch the person’s appearance in my mind—looking back, it was indeed almost exactly as I pictured.

I saw a two-wheeled carriage parked by the side of the road.

A middle-aged driver wearing a vest and suspenders was waving at me while unable to suppress a huge yawn.

“Little miss, where to? I’m very familiar with this area.”

He was a rental carriage driver.

This profession was not uncommon in the major cities of the Empire.

But to operate day and night like this, perhaps only the drivers in the Royal Capital did so…

As for the reason, I glanced at the magic stone streetlamps emitting a steady light by the side of the road, and I understood in my heart.

“I am going to the Royal Comprehensive Academy.”

I noticed that the carriage of the open-top two-wheeled vehicle seemed to bear the brand of a rental carriage company, looking somewhat official, so I spoke up. “Can you go there?”

“Alrighty, please get in!”

I boarded the carriage as told.

The driver stretched lazily and shook the reins in his hands.

The skinny horse, which also seemed to carry a hint of weariness, dragged its feet and began moving forward at a leisurely pace.

I don’t know if this is a common trait among rental carriage drivers, but shortly after the carriage started moving, he opened his mouth and chattered endlessly:

“Is this your first time in the Royal Capital, guest?”

“Uh, yes, my first time.”

I pulled at the hood of my cloak, my gaze sweeping over the street scenes constantly receding along the way, and answered casually.

However, the driver’s reaction was somewhat surprised:

“Really? Of the guests coming from out of town for the first time, not a single one isn’t dumbfounded by these lampposts!”

“Some people even think it’s a miracle from the gods and kneel down to worship right on the spot! Is this really your first time in the Royal Capital?”

“Ah… magic stone streetlamps.”

Using these mana-infused crystals as public lighting spread across the main streets of the city was indeed a unique sight of the Royal Capital.

But to me—please, having lived in a modern society in my previous life, what brilliant neon lights or sleepless cities hadn’t I seen?

How could I lose my composure over a few streetlamps?

Furthermore… I knew their true nature well.

I stared at those magic stones emitting a faint blue light beneath the glass lampshades and thought to myself:

Installing free-to-use magic stone streetlamps for the citizens of the Royal Capital was naturally not a benevolent policy born from a whim of the Emperor.

I knew clearly that the essence of these streetlamps was—

Little known to most, deep underground beneath the Royal Capital operated a nation-protecting magic circle that had been passed down for thousands of years.

Initially, it was nothing more than a crude city-defense array for the capital of a small inland kingdom.

But with the rapid expansion of the Empire, this magic circle was constantly reinforced and expanded—

Layers of magical structures were added onto it, overlapping and extending along with the borders of the city.

However, the more complex things are, the easier it is for faults to breed; the grander the engineering, the harder it is to trace the root cause.

The maintainers of later generations could only perform piecemeal repairs on its massive, complex system.

Finally, after one activation, this magic circle developed a fatal malfunction: it became impossible to shut down and began to spontaneously and endlessly absorb and convert mana.

And the court mages responsible for maintaining it, even if they possessed the original design blueprints, could no longer fully understand this magnificent megastructure that had been modified and overlaid beyond recognition by countless generations over a thousand years.

But the malfunction had to be resolved, or one day, the entire Kingdom would be blown into the sky by the over-accumulated mana.

The top mages of the Empire racked their brains and finally came up with a method that wasn’t really a method:

Utilize surface facilities to continuously consume the mana generated by the magic circle in order to maintain the balance of its mana circulation.

That’s right—the essence of these magic stone streetlamps scattered across the streets was exactly as “regulators” for the Royal Capital’s underground magic circle, channeling that surging torrent of mana.

Illumination was nothing more than a byproduct.

In fact, it went far beyond these streetlamps.

Many of the massive energy-consuming experimental devices in the Magic Department of the Royal Comprehensive Academy also drew their mana source from this magic circle.

It truly could be said that fortune and misfortune depend on each other.

The Royal Capital initially did not possess the natural spiritual lands required to support large-scale magical research.

But under the “gift” of this out-of-control magic circle, the level of magical research in the Royal Capital advanced by leaps and bounds.

It actually propelled the Magic Department of the Royal Comprehensive Academy to become the premier institution on the continent, even surpassing those traditional mage towers with long histories.

Driven by this massive benefit, any proposals previously discussed were left unsettled—at least on the surface, everything was progressing steadily and positively.

But the fatal hidden danger always existed; I knew this very well.

Once a problem occurred with these mana-channeling facilities, the ancient magic circle beneath our feet could turn into a destructive bomb that would level the entire Royal Capital at any moment.

This could tentatively be considered one of the Empire’s highest secrets.

In the original novel, after the villainous Duke’s daughter summoned the Evil God in the Royal Capital, this magic circle was also corrupted by the Evil God’s abyssal aura.

It ultimately completely lost control, and the city deeply tied to the magic circle disintegrated instantly, causing immeasurable casualties.

Had this not been the case, even if the Royal Capital fell, with so many formidable guards, the Imperial Royal Family wouldn’t have ended up nearly annihilated; they could have at least organized an evacuation.

Are humans truly always unable to learn their lessons?

Just as my thoughts drifted far away, the driver’s voice came from the front:

“Guest, we have arrived at the Royal Comprehensive Academy.”

“Ah, perfect timing.”

I gathered my thoughts and looked up.

The iconic snow-white walls of the Royal Comprehensive Academy and the neatly scattered complex of buildings within the walls prominently entered my sight.

I carefully identified the direction and felt it was even more of a coincidence that the spot where the carriage stopped was exactly near the residential area of the Magic Department.

This truly saved me a bit of effort in searching.