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Veronica suggested that I take a break.

It was a sort of convalescence.

“You’ve encountered a demon, whether you intended to or not, so it’s best for you to rest for a while.”

“Rest?”

“I mean you need more than just eating and sleeping; you need to be taken care of.”

Whether I stayed for a while in the Cathedral or visited often, her suggestion essentially boiled down to this: I should recuperate for my safety.

I had no reason to refuse.

Thus, without much thought, I decided to accept her proposal.

“Very well.”

“You made a good choice.”

Episode 12 – The Strongest Magician Ever

It had been several hours since all the happenings in the sewers began.

Though I was urged to rest under the guise of convalescence, unfortunately, my body was not in a state to relax comfortably.

From the reports gathered by my subordinates, it was reasonable to deduce that by now, the Military Government Headquarters and the Empire’s government had a somewhat clear understanding of the situation.

The forces of the Inquisition that participated in the joint investigation had moved as a group under the command of a high-ranking priest late at night, and that high-ranking priest happened to be none other than Veronica from the Kien Empire. They must have sensed that something unusual was occurring.

Moreover, regardless of the details, there had been several gunshots—even if it was underground, the Military Government Headquarters wouldn’t be oblivious to that.

While I was encouraged to recuperate, I had to differentiate between public and private matters.

So, I intended to inquire about the current situation through Veronica, the information agent…

“Why are you concerning yourself with that right now, Colonel?”

Her reply was quite cold.

“I told you not to think about the aftermath; just rest.”

“But priorities matter, right?”

“Ugh, you really are difficult to deal with. Don’t act like a grandpa or grandma in a rehabilitation home, just relax!”

“No, you are my information agent…”

“I don’t care; just hurry up and move!”

Veronica forcefully shoved my back and refused to respond. She pushed with such strength that when I didn’t budge, she pressed her body against mine and started to lean in with all her weight.

It reminded me of Sisyphus, condemned to push a boulder up a mountain due to the wrath of the gods.

But Sisyphus had strength, while Veronica was utterly lacking. She was grinding her teeth and pushing against me, and I couldn’t tell if she was joking or genuinely trying.

With her face flushed bright red, she continued to push, but I didn’t move an inch. Honestly, at this point, it made sense to give up, but that might just make the atmosphere painfully awkward.

“Ugh…”

Ultimately, pretending to succumb to her effort, I started to move.

*

I wanted an explanation about the events that had taken place, but Veronica continued to reject my questions.

While she had a superficial reason to tell me to set aside work for the time being to maintain stability, I had a feeling she had something else up her sleeve.

“Saint Veronica, are you perhaps having other thoughts?”

At my cautiously inquired question, Veronica’s demeanor darkened.

“What other thoughts?”

I tried every possible means to extract a response, but her lips were tightly sealed with no sign of opening.

It was a truly frustrating situation, but sadly, there was very little I could do.

Questioning a saint in the middle of a cult swarming with priests and Inquisition troops didn’t present a good appearance. Depending on the situation, it might escalate into an international affair.

Moreover, Veronica was not someone who avoided responding for no reason. She must have had her reasons for keeping silent.

So, for now, all I could do was trust her and wait.

When the time was right, as always, she would slyly approach me to provide information. That’s just who Veronica was.

“No, I was just saying something.”

I sighed as if I had given up. Veronica’s smile broadened at my indirect declaration of surrender.

“You made a good choice. Wouldn’t it have been nicer if you had said so from the start?”

“This is driving me nuts….”

“When a person needs to rest, they should! Don’t worry too much. Just rest well, and I will explain everything slowly after.”

She patted my back affectionately and added, “Alright! Let’s go have fun now!”

*

While I had used grand terms like structured rest, recuperation was surprisingly simple.

“Shall we eat first?”

“The food from the North isn’t that great. It’s fine with me, but will it suit your taste?”

“Why would we eat something tasteless? Did you hit your head or something? We should eat inside the Cathedral, of course.”

Veronica came urging me to eat first.

“Good food and a good rest is the best. After the meal, there will be an examination. If anything’s wrong, we’ll call a healer, and if not, you can just take a nice long sleep.”

“Thanks for the advice, but I’m not seriously injured. Just a slight bruise.”

“What’s visible isn’t everything. There could be an issue somewhere, so I’m telling you to get checked.”

There’s nothing wrong with being cautious, right?

My mind drifted away from her words, but she wasn’t wrong. So, as she suggested, I decided to eat first and relax.

However, there was one problem.

“Uh… Saint Veronica?”

“Yes, Colonel. Go ahead.”

“Um, don’t you think this is a bit excessive?”

I mumbled as I glanced at the inquisitors and nuns entering the dining hall. The monks affiliated with the Cathedral of Saint Basil were carrying almost every fruit, vegetable, meat, bread, and even types of fish rare in the North.

The monks began to transport food to the dining hall.

They sped along the corridors, their eyebrows practically lifting up from the effort, continually setting food on the long table that could seat at least twenty.

“Even if we are bringing in foods rare in the North… what are they doing calling out people who are supposed to be resting?”

I voiced my disbelief as I looked at the struggling monks.

“Why are you worrying about those people, Colonel?”

Veronica stood with her arms crossed, completely uninterested.

She spoke to me in a tone as if to say, “What’s the problem?”

“According to church law, a saint holds a higher position than an archbishop, let alone a cardinal or bishop. In a sense, I am their superior—by a long shot.”

“Is it okay for higher-ups to just boss around lower ranks like this?”

“If they’re unhappy, they can become saints themselves.”

At that moment, I was left speechless.

“…Veronica, do you have no conscience at all?”

The saint, standing on one leg, chuckled.

“I don’t think that’s something you should be saying, Colonel.”

As I watched the busy monks, I began to bicker with Veronica. The inquisitors and nuns suddenly dragged into dining service looked like they were about to cry, but no one dared to defy the saint’s orders.

Thus, the monks at the Cathedral had no choice but to prepare the meal while grumbling like crybabies.

Word came that the meal was ready, and I was guided by an inquisitor to sit at the table. As I was about to look around at what kind of food was served…

-Clatter.

I heard someone sit down across from me.

It was Veronica.

“Why are you eating with me?”

Veronica, sitting across the dining table, glanced at me while cutting cream cheese with a knife, as if trying to make sense of my question.

“Am I supposed to starve instead?”

“Well….”

I sneakily glanced at the clock hanging in the corner of the restaurant. 1:57 PM. It was nearly 2 PM.

“You haven’t eaten yet, even though it’s well past meal time?”

“Well, it just happened that way.”

Veronica replied nonchalantly.

She hummed a tune and took a bite of bread layered with cheese and fig jam. I was about to enjoy a meal.

I stared at her enjoying her meal, bewildered.

“Saint.”

“Yes?”

“You weren’t waiting for me to have dinner with you, were you?”

Veronica’s chewing abruptly halted as she dropped her bread with a flustered gesture, then began coughing and gulping down water.

After a while of her being in a daze, when she finally calmed down, Veronica, with her mouth and much of her face covered by her hand, spoke to me with a cough.

“Colonel.”

“Yes, Saint.”

“Just eat your fill.”

“….”

Is this a saint or a thug?

I let out a small sigh and began my meal.

*

There are many strange things in the world. Sitting in the office, watching television, I often found myself having such thoughts.

For instance, there are meals shared by the wealthy and celebrities. News that says, ‘A certain rich person paid hundreds of millions of dollars for dinner with a global star or notable scholar or great entrepreneur.’ Occasionally flipping channels, I found such news taking up a segment of gossip.

Meetings between tycoons and celebrities. What kind of conversations transpire when someone admired by the masses meets? Whenever I watched the news, these thoughts always followed.

Looking at it from that perspective, I considered myself quite lucky.

I could dine with the Saint of the Cult, who received the reverence of followers spread across the globe and was accorded the same respect as a head of state on the international stage. And not just one, but two. Not just once, but several times.

Without saying it outright, I knew there were plenty of people cursing behind my back.

To be able to eat with a saint without spending a penny while others couldn’t even catch a glimpse from afar. I’ve probably heard more curses about this than I would for a lifetime.

However,

As is often the case,

From a distance, the world might seem like a comedy, but up close, it’s a tragedy.

The dinner with the saint that everyone longed for was a complete mess.

“Veronica. Do you really have to do that while dining?”

Veronica, sitting across from me, slowly parted her lips, and a fluffy grayish smoke flowed out between her red lips.

“Why?”

“Well, who smokes at the dinner table?”

In Veronica’s hand was a cigarette.

Not just any cigarette, but a cigar made from hand-dried tobacco leaves crafted by a master.

The soft brown cigar, resembling a freshly baked bread, burned evenly while tightly holding onto its ash.

As she took a puff, the tip of the cigar glowed red. Veronica drew deeply, savoring the aroma and taste as she slowly exhaled.

“Mmm… Nice. Would you like to try, Colonel?”

“….”

Veronica raised her wine glass towards me, offering the cigar.

It was the first time anyone, let alone a member of the clergy, had ever offered me a smoke.

Although I looked at Veronica as if in disbelief, she remained utterly unfazed.

She placed the cigar in the designated ashtray and casually sipped her wine. Then, out of nowhere, she blurted out an absurd statement.

“You don’t smoke, don’t enjoy alcohol, avoid gambling, and have no love life. How on earth do you find joy in life, Colonel? It’s quite astonishing…”

“I can live just fine without alcohol, cigarettes, gambling, or romance.”

“That’s no fun. I mean, that’s really boring. Sometimes it seems like you’re more of a priest than I am!”

If a priest has less patience than a civilian, can they even be called a priest?

I attempted what could be called a backhanded critique, but it didn’t faze Veronica in the slightest. She confidently indulged in her wine and cigarettes in the cathedral’s restaurant.

At this point, wouldn’t it even be understandable for heaven to strike Veronica with lightning?

Saints are supposed to be cherished and loved by the divine, but isn’t this quite the act of sacrilege?

“Ugh…”

At least it was fortunate that no other clergy or monks witnessed this scene.

As soon as the meal was prepared, Veronica had chased everyone out of the restaurant, so aside from me, no one had been privy to her antics.

I rubbed my face with my palm and asked her, “Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Are you worried about me?”

“….”

When Veronica playfully inquired, I sneaked a glance over her.

“To be honest, I think you’re more likely to die early from an illness rather than an injury. Something like tuberculosis or liver cancer.”

“….”

Veronica, who had been smiling, hardened her expression, extending her middle finger as an added bonus.

We sat around the table, chatting about random things.

“How are your siblings these days? Is Francesca doing well?”

“She’s working at a comfortable post without a single injury. Recently, she started a business too.”

“Good to hear. She was quite worried since this is her first time in such a conflict area. The hero is doing well too, right?”

“He’s doing fine. In fact, he’s doing too well, which is a bit of a problem.”

Francesca and Camila managed their own affairs, so there weren’t any major issues.

If there was a concern, it would be about how Camila’s weight had increased?

For some reason, she seemed to be thriving more and more each day.

Having flown to the frontlines and battled, she must have exerted the most energy among us, yet Camila showed no signs of struggle.

“She must be sneaking snacks somewhere. I told her not to do that.”

“Is there really a need to restrict her food intake? Honestly, I think the hero looks good. Quite pretty.”

“Is that so? I wouldn’t know.”

As Veronica was picking the meat off a chicken wing, she chuckled and joked.

“I think you should visit an eye doctor. Or maybe a urologist.”

“Are you implying I’m impotent?”

“That’s correct.”

It was the truth.

A well-deserved remark.

Like a tiger, I whacked Veronica on the head.

“Hey, why did you hit me?!”

“Because you said something deserving of it.”

I delivered another light smack to Veronica’s head. That made it the second time she received a bop today. When she asked why I hit her again, I simply replied it was because she annoyed me.

Thus, having subdued Veronica’s ruckus in a peaceful manner, tranquility returned to the restaurant.

“Oh, this still hurts…”

“Well, you really should watch who you’re joking with, Saint.”

“That sounds like something a narrow-minded person would say.”

Veronica rubbed her forehead, grumbling, while I sighed deeply and scolded her.

As always, today’s conversation was trivial. Veronica would joke, I’d scold, she’d tease, and I’d play along decently. We continued on with our meaningless banter.

As the prepared food slowly diminished and our meal neared its end.

“Oh, right.”

As I reached for dessert, I belatedly realized that Lucia wasn’t present.

Come to think of it, I didn’t recall seeing her at the cathedral today.

“Veronica.”

“What is it?”

“Where’s Lucia?”

“Oh, Lucia?”

Veronica glanced at me while cautiously savoring her dessert.

Then, as if it was no big deal, she casually spat out while eating.

“She’s currently under house arrest.”

 

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