Chapter 465: Sacred Sword Selection (Part 1)
The excited crowd fell silent the moment the Cardinal appeared, the entire White Stone Square filled with a dense aura of light.
“Hmm, this is Bishop George of the Peka Kingdom. I heard that in the Peka Church, his seniority is second only to Lord Richelieu, a Cardinal who governs the Knights’ Academy.”
Siya tiptoed, craning her neck. Her wide-open crimson eyes gazed at the Cardinal holding a pure white, immaculate sword edge, revealing a surprised expression:
“However, the sword he’s holding… could it be the Sacred Sword of your kingdom?”
“It does look like the Sacred Sword…”
A faint sound escaped her lips. Verafia’s scorching gold eyes fell upon the sword the Cardinal held, as if in a trance.
As if sensing the Sacred Knight who once shone brightly thrust the infinitely radiant Sacred Sword into his chest, the scorching white blade edge burned through blood and flesh. The girl’s butterfly head trembled slightly, and beneath her slightly furrowed eyelashes, her little face showed a hint of discomfort.
Her slender, white wrist was held by the young man’s palm, and Ig gently asked, “Young Lady?”
Her eyelids blinked lightly beneath her long lashes. After adjusting her emotions, Verafia reopened her gold eyes, revealing a smile as cheerful as usual:
“Ah, it’s nothing. I just thought that the sacred sword phantom that Charle pulled out back then was indeed very similar.”
Verafia raised her eyes to gaze at the pure white “Sacred Sword” held by the Cardinal, her little head cocked to the side, her face as delicate as snow showing a curious expression:
“Hmm… However, although the power of light is much stronger, it doesn’t seem to reach the level of a legendary Sacred Sword at all. Could it be just a replica fabricated out of thin air using the Sacred Sword’s power by Lancaster?”
“More than a hundred years ago today, the ancestors of Peka and the Royal Capital, through blood and sacrifice, finally managed to completely eliminate the Demon Race that invaded Lichen. And similarly, it was a hundred years ago that His Majesty the King drew the Sacred Sword of salvation, ending the demon race’s decade-long invasion from another world in one fell swoop!”
The Cardinal’s voice, amplified by Divine Light Arts, was exceptionally clear and loud. Verafia’s slender, delicate fingertips clenched within her palm, but her raised gold eyes showed no unusual emotion.
Beside the young girl, Ig’s attention was also drawn to the Cardinal’s voice, so he didn’t notice the slight ripple of emotion in the young girl’s heart.
“As the ‘Hero of Salvation,’ His Majesty the King has wielded the Sacred Sword for a hundred years. However, with His Majesty’s selflessness and purity, he has no intention of passing down such a sacred relic as a personal possession.”
“Therefore, after discussing with myself and Lord Richelieu, we have decided to choose a candidate for the Hero before the centenary commemoration of Victory Day—”
As if his holy robe, soaked in sacrifice, was billowing, the Cardinal suddenly raised the “Sacred Sword” he was holding high. Amidst the cheers of the crowd, the abundant holy power of light was instantly released, and a sacred golden brilliance enveloped the entire square:
“Under Your Majesty’s gaze, anyone who can lift the Sacred Sword will be the heir to the Hero, the next master of the Sacred Sword!”
“Lancaster is going to give up the Sacred Sword? Can this person truly achieve this level?”
Verafia watched with some disbelief. Around her, the excited emotions of the crowd were also ignited by the radiant Sacred Sword:
“Long live the King!”
“Long live the Hero, Long live the Sacred Sword!”
On the White Stone Square, the layers of roaring voices from the crowd made Verafia’s ears ache slightly.
Siya tilted her head back, her soft crimson hair sliding down her tender skin. A hint of disbelief appeared in her wide-open red crystal eyes, and she murmured:
“Hmm, it really is the Sacred Sword. I heard Father… uh, Father say that the legendary Sacred Sword has the power to change the world. Could it be that this Lancaster of Peka is truly so selfless?”
“Selfless, perhaps.”
Andes clasped his hands, his deep blue eyes, like a deep lake, gazing at the Cardinal holding the “Sacred Sword” high. A faint smile appeared on his raised face:
“However, these matters of the Hero and the Sacred Sword’s inheritance are probably not even known to His Holiness the Pope, let alone King Lance and the Peka Church.”
Ig’s heart tightened. The blue-haired youth’s implication was that the inheritance of the Sacred Sword excluded the Empire and the Church of Light. The purpose was clearly for the Church and Lancaster to keep the Sacred Sword within their own political system.
On the White Stone Square, the cheers of the crowd, composed of church followers, commoners, adventurers, and even many nobles, one wave surpassing another.
Cardinal George’s Divine Light Arts spread through space. After signaling for the crowd to quiet down, he inverted the Sacred Sword he held and inserted it into the milky white sacred stone formed from pure light elements in front of him. A subtle, obscure ripple flowed through the aura of light that permeated space.
“By the will of His Majesty Lancaster, only those with noble and pure character, true candidates for the Sacred Sword, are qualified to draw this sword: and the one who draws the Sacred Sword is the heir to the Hero!”
A red-haired youth, dressed like a swordsman and standing closest to the platform, asked, “Bishop Lord, can anyone attempt to draw the Sacred Sword?”
Bishop George nodded and gave an affirmative reply: “Of course. Only if you have the qualification to draw the Sacred Sword—”
The red-haired youth was overjoyed. He leaped forward and rushed directly onto the platform, his hand reaching for the Sacred Sword embedded in the sacred stone on the stage in front of the Cardinal.
He was certainly not confident that he had the qualification to draw the Sacred Sword, but what if he could successfully draw it?
After all, ever since Lancaster single-handedly charged to the Demon King and saved the world, the identity of the Sacred Sword Hero was almost revered by the entire continent. It was far more honored than the status of a Grand Duke, or even a King!
The red-haired youth’s palm landed on the hilt of the Sacred Sword. Suddenly, his eyes widened in astonishment. Holy golden light overflowed from the pure white, immaculate blade, and surging energy poured into the youth’s arm, causing it to suddenly explode and burst!
Watching the mist of blood disperse in the air, and the red-haired youth whose arm was burst by the power of the Sacred Sword and who fainted after screaming, even the people below, no matter how excited and fervent, felt as if they had been doused with a basin of cold water. Amidst the ensuing silence, noisy discussions arose one after another.
The Cardinal waved his hand, and the divine power force, like a golden veil, separated the red-haired youth from the sword, preventing the influx of the Sacred Sword’s power. Simultaneously, on the youth’s exploded arm, new flesh buds were stimulated to grow, and an arm quickly regenerated.
“However, the qualification for the Sacred Sword is not easily obtained—even with thousands of years of history on the continent, only His Majesty the King has ever drawn the Sacred Sword.”
The Cardinal’s voice echoed through space. The Cardinal looked at the worried and fearful expressions of the crowd in the square, couldn’t help but shake his head slightly, and then raised his voice:
“Of course, as long as you all do not try to grasp the Sacred Sword directly with your Dou Qi like this swordsman, it will not cause a backlash. And, before the Sacred Sword is drawn, high-ranking priests of the Church will be stationed here, and if there are any accidents, their divine arts will be sufficient to ensure your safety.”
