Bonus chapter: In Passing Memory of Norn, PEACE!!
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Chapter 142: The Long-Awaited Priest
A few days later, in the Royal Capital.
The Saint King Noen's funeral was being held.
Residents from the entire city gathered spontaneously, extending from the Royal Palace all the way to the cemetery outside the city. The procession stretched like a river of mourning, black-clad figures filling every street and alleyway.
Everyone's face was etched with sorrow, and many were quietly sobbing. Children clutched their parents' hands, not fully understanding why the adults were crying and sad, but they sensed the weight of loss that hung over the capital like morning fog.
In the very center of the street, a long funeral procession moved with solemn dignity.
Kurtz and Serie did not join the crowd; they stood quietly on the city's tallest tower, overlooking the grand funeral procession below. The wind at this height carried fragments of prayer and song from the streets below.
"Is this how humans bid farewell?" Serie murmured softly, her ancient voice carrying a note of genuine curiosity rather than her usual dismissiveness.
Kurtz remained silent, his gaze following the distant coffin as it moved like a small boat on a sea of mourners.
"Yes," Kurtz finally spoke, "this is humanity. To commemorate one's achievements with a grand ceremony. Norn, he deserves all of this."
He watched as the coffin finally disappeared at the end of the path leading to the cemetery, until it was no longer visible. The finality of that moment settled between them like dust after a great storm.
"We should go too, Serie."
Kurtz turned around, no longer looking at the sorrowful scene, his gaze fixed on the distant north, the direction of the Demon King's City, and the place where he must fulfill his next promise.
"Norn's journey has ended, but our path... still has a way to go."
Serie took one last look at the Royal Capital, still immersed in grief below, and nodded. For once, she offered no cutting remark about human sentiment.
The two turned silently, and spatial magic unfolded; their figures vanished from the top of the tower, as if they had never appeared.
Northern Wasteland.
Kraft was walking alone on the rugged mountain path, his breath forming small clouds in the bitter air.
Several days had passed since he parted ways with Kurtz and Serie. The silence of these mountains was absolute; no birds sang here, no insects buzzed. Only the crunch of snow beneath his boots marked his passage.
To avoid encountering demons as much as possible, he deliberately avoided the main road and chose a more secluded path. The detour added days to his journey, but caution had kept him alive this long.
However, after all this time, the Priest mentioned by Kurtz was still nowhere to be seen.
This raised a hint of doubt in Kraft's mind. Could it be that the Holy Order encountered some accident?
Just as he crossed a snow-covered mountain peak, preparing to find shelter from the wind to rest, an abnormal magical fluctuation caught his attention.
It was not the aura of a demon, but an extremely warm aura, like sunlight filtering through stained glass, entirely out of place in this frozen wasteland.
This aura came very clearly from not far away.
Kraft secretly gripped the hilt of his sword at his waist and stealthily moved closer, gradually approaching the source of the aura. His warrior's instincts screamed caution, but something about this presence felt... familiar.
Inside a cave in the rock wall, a small bonfire crackled, and by the bonfire, a figure sat quietly.
It was a young woman who appeared to be human.
She was dressed in a simple white robe, her long black hair tied back, revealing a smooth forehead and delicate features, but for some reason, Kraft always felt that this face looked familiar.
However, he was certain he had never met her before. The feeling nagged at him like a word on the tip of his tongue.
On her lap lay an open book, from which a soft, magical aura emanated, precisely the warmth Kraft had sensed. The pages seemed to glow with their own inner light.
The moment Kraft saw her, the young Holy Order also looked up.
There was no surprise in her eyes, as if she had long known he would appear at this time and place. Her gaze held the patient quality of someone who had waited decades for a single moment.
"Warrior of the Elves, I have been waiting for a long time."
Kraft felt his pulse quicken. She seemed not at all surprised by his appearance. Could she be the one Kurtz spoke of?
However, a warrior's intuition still made Kraft remain secretly vigilant. Something about her composure unsettled him; no one should be this calm in these mountains.
"Who are you?"
The woman closed the holy scripture with a soft whisper of pages, stood up, and looked at Kraft. "I am Alila, a simple priest of the Holy Order."
Her answer was simple and vague. "And you, Kraft, an Elf who has set foot on this land, a hero about to save the world, we will eventually reach the same destination."
"Who exactly are you?" Kraft pressed, noting how she'd known his name without introduction.
"Didn't I say? My name is Ailia, a simple priest as ordinary as can be, just waiting here for your arrival." Ailia tilted her head slightly, as if a little puzzled by Kraft's persistence.
She hadn't chatted with anyone for too long; the last time was forty years ago. But did that guy not tell Kraft about her?
"Are you the Priest Kurtz spoke of?" Kraft confirmed.
"Yes!" Ailia nodded slightly, acknowledging her identity. "He said you would need my strength, and I need to fulfill this promise."
Kraft carefully observed Ailia, taking in details his warrior's training had taught him to notice.
His intuition told him that her aura was extremely powerful—a strength far exceeding any Holy Order he had ever encountered. The magical presence around her felt dense, layered, like looking into deep still water.
It even vaguely reminded him of Olivia, or other Thirteen Council members, yet it felt even more ancient. There was something in her bearing that spoke of centuries, not decades.
Kuurtz had not lied.
This seemingly fragile human woman was that mysterious and powerful priest.
Although her origin and true identity remained a mystery, since Kurtz introduced her, coupled with her formidable strength, it was enough for Kraft to set aside all his doubts temporarily.
He took a deep breath of the cold air and slowly released his tight grip on the sword hilt. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly.
His vigilance had not completely disappeared, but the hostility had transformed into cautious acceptance.
"Lady Ailia," Kraft used a respectful address, sensing that she deserved more than casual familiarity, "I am Kraft, and Kurtz did indeed mention you to me."
"Mm, that's good." Ailia nodded faintly. "I will go with you to the Demon King's location. You only need to make your name known, let everyone in the world know that it was you, Kraft, who defeated the Demon King and saved this world from his threat."
Kraft was silent for a moment, processing the weight of those words. Then he nodded slowly. "I understand."
Kurtz was unwilling to gain this honor by killing his former companion, so he placed this burden upon himself. The irony wasn't lost on Kraft; to save the world, he would have to become its greatest liar.
Although he didn't know why Kurtz chose him to bear this honor, since it was a matter of promise, Kraft could only embark on this journey.
"Lady Ailia, the road ahead will likely not be peaceful."
"I know." Ailia's gaze turned north, towards the distant Demon King's City, and a faint, almost imperceptible golden light seemed to flash in her eyes, so quick that Kraft thought it was his own illusion.
She said no more, and the holy scripture in her hand transformed into a stream of light, disappearing into her robe like morning mist.
She adjusted her simple white robe and stepped out of the bonfire's warm circle, walking directly towards Kraft. Her footsteps made no sound on the cave floor.
"Let's go, our journey is still long." Then she moved past him toward the cave entrance.
Kraft no longer hesitated. He tightened his cloak against the mountain wind and followed Ailia's steady footsteps into the harsh northern night.
As they walked, Kraft found himself studying the figure before him, his heart filled with complex thoughts.
Although the Priest Kurtz spoke of had appeared, his questions had only multiplied. What exactly was Lady Ailia's true identity? Why did she possess such ancient power within that young body? And why did her face seem to echo someone from a memory he couldn't quite grasp?
All of this, he could only hope to find answers to on the path ahead. The Demon King's City awaited, and with it, the truth behind this mysterious woman who carried herself like she had walked these lands for centuries.
[End of Chapter]