NOVEL WEB Chapter 322 Extracted to the Bone
Do you see this, Radiant One? The descendant of mine whom you tried so desperately to destroy… He lives. He thrives. And now, he prepares to erase you. And those who follow your will—what have they done?
Meanwhile, far out at sea, the commander of the Holy Knights, Antonio, was endlessly circling the waters.
No matter how thoroughly they scoured the ocean, there was no sign of that damn pirate crew.
His whip cracked across the back of a large sailor lying prone on the deck.
"You said they raided this area. Then why the hell can't we find them?"
The second-rank sailor, Tiberius, suppressed a groan that threatened to escape.
He knew better than anyone—speaking out would only invite more lashes.
He'd seen too many sailors like himself thrown into the sea after being flogged for less.
If the pirates have any brains at all, they wouldn't linger in waters swarming with the Holy Knights. Not when an entire fleet's out hunting them down.
He longed to speak the truth—but doing so would only earn him a watery grave.
He carefully constructed a safer answer:
"Judging by their discipline and demeanor, those pirates are no ordinary rabble. They clearly have support behind them. They've likely returned to their backers to unload stolen goods and supplies. If we wait just a little longer, I believe they'll resurface."
Hm…
Of all the excuses Antonio had heard so far, this one sounded the most convincing.
He gave a slow nod.
Still, he didn't forget to strike one last blow with his whip.
Commoners needed to be reminded of their place—the moment you treated them well, they got bold.
Moments later, Tiberius, limp and seaweed-like, was dragged off by fellow sailors.
Antonio wiped the blood from his face without emotion and turned to his vice-commander.
"What do you think? Is it worth waiting?"
"There's not much else we can do, is there? As that lowly dog said, we've secured the entire surrounding sea, and still haven't seen a trace of them. It likely means they've left the area to handle business elsewhere. I'd suggest waiting ten more days."
Ten days…
Yes, he could spare that much. It had been a while since he'd had a proper campaign, after all.
Some suffering in salt and sun might be good for the spirit—
a bit of penance, an offering to the Radiant One.
Just imagining the purification made him feel cleansed already.
"Then so be it. Everyone, remain on standby!"
A chorus of cheers erupted from the crew.
Most of the Holy Knights were starved for women and food.
Antonio grimaced and shook his head.
One could not expect every knight to walk the same virtuous path he did.
"Well then, enjoy yourselves. When that pirate ship returns, we'll show them the might of the Holy Knights!"
He couldn't help but grin at the thought.
He was giddy imagining their faces when the pirates returned—completely unaware that, in his absence, their base had been utterly ransacked, emptied to the bone.
The Pope's mind was a tangled mess.
News had come that the swarms of locusts, which were supposed to ravage the continent, had simply vanished.
"What? You're telling me that fertilizer created by that bastard Michael managed to exterminate the locusts?"
Why was nothing going his way lately?
Nearby, Cardinal Jacopo lay prostrate on the floor, wiping sweat from his brow.
He had to make sure the Pope's wrath was directed at Michael, not at him.
"Yes, Your Holiness. That man is so cunning and wicked, he even escaped the wrath of the Lord."
Why sparing the world from a plague of locusts counted as "cunning and wicked" was anyone's guess—but as always, the louder you insisted, the better it worked.
"Damn it. All that grain will now rot away. What are we supposed to do about this?"
The Pope's expression darkened into a deep scowl.
That was it.
This whole plan had served a dual purpose: weaken the power of rival nations, and then sell off the mountain of stockpiled grain.
Never for a moment had it crossed his mind to donate that food to the people of the Holy Kingdom as an act of charity.
Why should the carefully hoarded grain be handed over to weevils—or worse, the hungry masses?
"Do not trouble yourself, Your Holiness. The grand plan for Saint Hanna Island is already well underway. Once the Radiant One appears again in this world…"
Ah, yes—of course.
The Pope's mood instantly brightened.
The day of the Radiant One's resurrection was fast approaching.
And when that day came…
"Those wicked heretics shall be consumed by His holy flames."
The Pope and the Cardinal exchanged a dark, knowing smile.
Of course, they had no idea that Saint Hanna Island had already been torn from its roots, or that Julius had long since fallen into Michael's hands.
But then, ignorance was nothing new for the Pope.
He remained completely unaware that the nations of the continent had begun preparing for war—a united campaign to bring down the Holy Kingdom.
Recently, the bishops of the Holy Kingdom dispatched to various nations had grown increasingly anxious.
People were starting to avoid them—and they felt it.
At first, they hadn't thought much of it.
Religious figures, after all, weren't meant to blend easily with worldly society.
But the air around them had definitely grown colder.
"What on earth is going on?"
Unable to bear it anymore, one bishop turned to his attendant priest and asked,
"Don't you think we've been treated more harshly lately?"
The priest tilted his head in confusion.
"Have we, Your Excellency? I can't say I've noticed."
After all, no one was likely to direct their frustration at a low-ranking priest assigned to a bishop—especially not while preparations for war were underway.
Only those in the highest echelons of power knew that a full-scale war against the Holy Kingdom was coming.
Naturally, the atmosphere perceived by a bishop and that perceived by his assistant would be vastly different.
"Hmm… So it's just my imagination? Then again, things have been chaotic lately—what with the rampage of the Pamir Empire and the locust crisis. That must be it. You're dismissed."
The junior priest, having been summoned mid-task, left the office cursing under his breath.