The Kingmaker System
Chapter 288 - 287. What Ifs (3)

Chapter 288: 287. What Ifs (3)

Asher swung his sword with precision, his movements sharp and calculated. His white shirt clung to his skin, drenched with sweat and rendered almost transparent. The muscles in his back and arms rippled as he executed each strike with brutal grace. His recent fight with Lyall must have left an impression on him, highlighting areas where he needed improvement.

"Say, Captain, is what you said true?" one of the knights asked, breaking the rhythmic sound of Asher’s blade slicing through the air.

"About what?" Asher replied, not pausing his relentless training.

"That His Holiness decided to go to the borders with the Saint, and the others escorted them?"

"What part of that was confusing for you?" Asher’s tone was curt, his focus unwavering.

"All of it, to be honest."

The group chuckled nervously.

"First of all," the knight continued, "you’re the Captain. Why didn’t you go with them? And why did you show up two days after they left?"

"I already told you," Asher said, his tone sharp, though his movements remained fluid. "I went with them, but His Holiness ordered me to return to protect the Temple in case anything happened during their absence."

"Is that so?"

The knights exchanged glances, skepticism evident in their expressions. It was no small feat to orchestrate the disappearance of the Temple’s most powerful figures, and their doubts about Asher were growing.

Still, their suspicions were misplaced. Asher wasn’t serving the Temple out of devotion. He had his reasons, deeply personal ones, and they revolved around revenge. He sought to expose the Temple’s corruption, enduring countless humiliations, including being ostracized by his own family, all for the sake of his goal.

I watched him silently, hidden by my invisibility spell. Standing a few feet away, I observed the calculated sharpness of his movements, the furrow of his brow. Despite the spell concealing me, his instincts were sharp—his gaze darted to where I stood, his focus narrowing as if sensing my presence.

"Asher," I called out, my voice breaking the stillness.

He froze, his posture rigid. His eyes darted around cautiously before he began walking away. Entering the Temple, he made his way through the halls, his steps deliberate, his head turning occasionally to check for any followers. Finally, he reached his room, closing the door behind him and scanning the space once more.

"Master?" he called, his voice low and wary.

I dropped the invisibility spell, revealing myself in the dimly lit room. His eyes immediately found me, a flicker of surprise in his expression.

"There’s a problem," I began.

"What kind of problem?"

"The Pope was kidnapped," I said bluntly.

He blinked, his face hardening. "Pardon?"

"Yes," I confirmed. "The third party involved in this mess has made their move. They intercepted the Pope during his return today. I’ll need to shift to the second route, which involves the High Priest. For that, I need your help."

"What should I do?" Asher asked without hesitation.

His unwavering resolve caught my attention. "First, ensure the High Priest stays alive at all costs. He’s essential to the backup plan."

Asher nodded, his determination as solid as steel.

I stepped closer, explaining the specifics of his role in the new strategy. Time was slipping through our fingers, but with Asher’s support, there was still a chance to salvage the situation.

"I’ll do as you say, Master," he responded, his voice steady after I had laid out the plan.

It was a random thought but I did recall something, a little thing that I had kept as a mental note.

"One more thing Asher," I said making him straighten up.

"Yes, Master. I need you to look for a Healer. Can you do that?"

"A Healer?"

"Yes, I’ll return in two days so, find her till then."

He seemed a bit uncertain but he nodded, "Her name’s Lisana, she’s from the tribe that has the crest of a boulder."

His eyes lit up almost as if he knew her.

"Ah... I know her, she’s currently working with a branch of a Temple. I’ll send a message for her to be sent here."

"Good. I’ll go see the High Priest now," I said, turning to activate the invisibility spell once more.

"Master?" His voice stopped me mid-motion.

"Yes?" I turned back to face him.

He hesitated, his expression conflicted, before finally asking, "Can I... meet Mirielle after all this ends?"

I raised a brow, curiosity piqued. "Why?"

"There’s... something I wish to tell her."

For a fleeting moment, I almost felt sympathy for him. Asher’s feelings for Mirielle were genuine, despite the cruel truth that she was nothing more than a fabricated persona—a construct of my carefully laid plans.

"All right," I said after a pause, and his shoulders relaxed slightly.

He nodded, gratitude flickering in his gaze as I activated the invisibility spell and left his room.

I headed straight for the prayer hall, drawn by the faint presence of Benedict. He was kneeling at the altar, his hands clasped tightly in prayer, his eyes squeezed shut as if his devotion alone could shield him from the storm brewing outside.

The grand statue of the Saintess and the Dragon loomed above, its serene expressions a silent witness to his pleas. I stepped forward, allowing the sound of my footsteps to echo in the hallowed space as I deactivated the invisibility spell.

"Benedict," I called.

His eyes snapped open, wide with shock as he scrambled to his feet. "Lo-Lord Dragon?"

"Did you know the Pope was cursed by a demon?" I asked, my voice calm but deliberate.

The color drained from his face. "Wha-What?" he stammered, his voice cracking.

"He made a deal with that demon," I explained, watching his reaction closely. "And as expected, his foolishness got him trapped."

Benedict staggered backward, clutching at the altar for support. "A de-de-demon..." His hands trembled as he processed the weight of my words.

"The recipe for that potion he created," I continued, my tone laced with quiet disdain, "was nothing more than a gift from the demon—a whim of malice."

His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the floor, his terror palpable. "And now, as a consequence of his sin, he has been claimed by that same demon."

Benedict’s breath hitched as he fell forward, his forehead pressed to the cold stone floor. "Did that potion—"

"No," I cut him off. "The demon was toying with him. The only side effect was dehydration."

Relief flickered briefly in his gaze, but it was quickly replaced by fear as I continued, "But since you were complicit, there’s no telling when the demon might come for you too."

A strangled gasp escaped him, and he crawled forward, his trembling hands clutching the hem of my cloak. "Please, Lord Dragon, save me! I—I don’t want to be taken by a demon!"

I sighed, my patience thinning. "I will save you," I said, his eyes lighting up with desperate hope. "But—" I paused, watching the flicker of fear return.

"B-But?"

"You must do something in return," I said evenly.

"Anything! I’ll do anything!" he pleaded.

"Repent for your sins."

"I—I’m already—"

"Not just by praying to these statues," I said, gesturing toward the towering figures behind me. "Repent by confessing your crimes. Publicly. And accept the consequences."

His face crumbled in despair. "Wha..." The word barely escaped him.

"If you don’t tell the truth," I said coldly, "then I will. Either way, your deeds will be revealed."

"B-But... I’ll be burned at the stake... fo-for everything..." His voice broke, and he looked utterly defeated.

I studied him for a moment, his terror a bitter confirmation of the inevitable. Why do those who sin so readily always cower when faced with the consequences? Justice is a law of the universe; no one escapes it, no matter how long it takes.

"You have two days to decide," I said, turning to leave. "And do not leave the Temple. Keep Sir Asher with you at all times."

Before I could take another step, I felt a sharp tug at my cloak. I turned to see Benedict clinging to the fabric, his head bowed low, his voice trembling.

"I-I... was wrong," he choked out. "I knew I shouldn’t have followed His Holiness... But... I couldn’t bear to lose my position. I’d worked so hard to get here... And now..." His voice faltered, and he shook like a leaf in a storm. "Now, I—"

"You’re still better than him, Benedict," I said, cutting him off. His gaze lifted, hollow and searching.

"Most people don’t realize the consequences of their actions until it’s too late," I continued. "But you still have a chance to make amends. That’s why I’m giving you this opportunity."

I looked up at the statue of the Saintess and the Dragon, their figures bathed in soft candlelight. "They sacrificed everything for the sake of this world, and you’ve used their names to justify your sins. Can you even imagine the weight of such betrayal?"

Benedict hung his head, his shame suffocating the room.

"This is your last chance, Benedict," I said firmly. "Don’t waste it."

With that, I turned and left the prayer hall, leaving him to grapple with the crushing weight of his decision.

I returned to the spot where the dead bodies of Lyall’s men were seen in the morning. They were all gone now, buried, with only the splashes of their blood remaining to speak of their sacrifice.

I closed my eyes for a moment, mourning their deaths. I didn’t like sacrificing my people it weighed on my chest like a heavy burden.

The demon had gone far this time, he had been a pain but at least he was not in my sight before, but now that he had shown his face, I wasn’t letting him off the hook without making him pay for what he did.