The Lich of Glory Knight Spirit: Moving towards Krimasha!
Chapter 97 - 29: Sacred versus Sacred (2)

Chapter 97: Chapter 29: Sacred versus Sacred (2)

With a single question, Gray left Dean stunned. Even the atmosphere underwent a strange, noticeable shift.

Gray quietly gazed at Dean.

Dean, unable to muster a response out of sheer awkwardness, resorted to laughing—a strained, ceaseless laugh.

However, the three others present didn’t laugh. They simply watched him in silence, making his laughter all the more uncomfortable.

"I’ve heard that the church has significant grievances with me. Is that true?" Gray asked again, his tone calm yet piercing.

His mouth twitching from forcing a smile too long, Dean gathered himself and stammered, "If I say no... you probably wouldn’t believe me, would you?"

"And so?" Gray pressed further.

It was evident that this question couldn’t be avoided today. Helpless, Dean sighed and cast a pleading look toward the two others beside him, then, bracing himself, said, "I’d like to speak with the Holy Knight in private. Would that be acceptable?"

Gray turned his gaze toward Yilin as well.

"We’ll step out for a moment," Yilin said, rising from her seat and leaving the room.

Carl gave a respectful nod and followed her out.

The door closed behind them, leaving only Dean and Gray in the room.

Sunlight slanted through the open window, casting a blurry shadow on the vase atop the coffee table in the center of the room.

Of the two remaining in the room, Gray sat still, his expression unreadable. Dean, on the other hand, looked as though he were in palpable agony, his face twisted in distress.

...

On a distant rooftop outside the window, Zeda and Tavia were concealed, watching from afar with unreadable expressions.

...

With Yilin and Carl gone, Dean felt the pressure slightly ease, though the discomfort still lingered.

After all, Gray had changed—dramatically so. He was no longer the idle knight going about doing good deeds in White City. In just a few months, he had become a Holy Knight—a knight with enough courage to openly confront the church, and one who commanded a devoted following.

If Dean still thought he could manipulate Gray as he might have in the past, he would be hopelessly naïve. In fact, he had known this before even coming here. But if he wanted to keep his position, he had no choice but to come. This mission was not only his top priority but also the very reason he had been given his current role. He understood this better than anyone.

After a long silence, Dean looked toward Gray and hesitated before saying, "The church’s grievances against you come from many directions. Or, to put it simply, they believe that everything you’ve done is wrong."

"Specifically?"

"In many aspects."

"Specifically?"

"When it comes to the outcomes you’re seeking, you and the church don’t differ much. But in terms of methods, there’s a vast difference. You must admit, the church’s goal is also to promote the sacred faith, just as they still acknowledge you as a Holy Knight. At least in this respect, there is no fundamental disagreement. But in terms of methods, the divide between you and them is substantial," Dean said, his words cautious and insincere. "Actually, I feel that methods are secondary; what matters most is that your goals align, don’t you think? If the objectives are aligned, there’s nothing that can’t be negotiated."

"Aligned goals?" Gray asked.

"Absolutely," Dean replied, his tone resolute.

"Then how do they view the matter of Bob?" Gray asked coldly.

This question once again rendered Dean speechless. Awkwardly, he responded, "Well, there’s a slight difference in goals, I’ll admit... but only a little, right?"

"Just a little?" Gray said, his voice serious. "For others, it might seem like a minor difference, but for Bob, it’s the difference between life and death. For the residents of Lion King City, it’s the difference between justice being served or denied. For the King, it’s the difference between a heinous crime being punished or going unpunished. The specifics can be found in the fifth volume, fourteenth verse of the Holy Bible. I don’t think that actions blatantly violating divine doctrine constitute just ’a little difference.’"

With those words, Gray left Dean unable to respond, his silence dragging on for an eternity.

Silence, an oppressive, drawn-out silence. The room was deathly quiet.

Gray calmly fixed his gaze on Dean. Dean’s eyes darted anxiously, and a creeping numbness tingled his scalp. In the end, all he could do was slowly close his eyes and sigh, his expression a strained surrender, fighting futilely against the inevitable.

After a long stretch of quiet, Dean finally spoke in a soft voice. "Gray... may I address you this way?"

"That’s a true friend’s way of addressing someone," said a quiet mumble from Black Cat.

"You may," Gray said with a slight nod. "I’m deeply honored."

Still hesitant, Dean said dejectedly, "Gray, I admire you. Truly. You’re the most upright knight I’ve ever known. Your ideals surpass everyone else’s. Others may still harbor doubts about you, but I don’t. I’ve watched your journey firsthand. I wholeheartedly support you. And I’m deeply grateful—without our fortuitous acquaintance, I wouldn’t be where I am now. The only reason I got this position was because they hoped I could reach out to you and anticipate your actions."

"Anticipate my actions, and then what do they intend to do?" Gray asked.

"I’m not sure," Dean replied, shaking his head. "But I know you’ve completely infuriated them. This is a colossal issue—you’ve shaken the very foundation of the church. This situation must come to a resolution. Either you surrender, or they do. Every nation is watching; someone must concede, correct? Unless... you’re prepared to wage outright war against the church. But I must caution you—declaring war on the church will only delight the demons of hell."

"Yet the church’s actions are wrong. They’ve violated sacred tenets, the very faith I uphold. I will not compromise on wrongdoing," Gray said, his tone firm and unyielding.

"I see. I understand your position. And, truthfully, that’s exactly what they’ve told me—they will not compromise either." Dean pressed his lips together thoughtfully before continuing. "Could you tell me what exactly it is that you want? What is it you’re hoping the church will do?"

"I want them to declare Benedict II guilty, strip him of the throne, and restore justice," Gray replied plainly.

"Alright, I’ll view that as your core demand. What I’m about to say may offend you, but I assure you it comes with your best interests in mind. I hope you won’t hold it against me."

Gray listened silently.

Dean continued, "I have an alternative solution that could yield the same result. You could reinstate Benedict II on the throne, demonstrating to everyone that you still respect the church. At the same time, acknowledge any missteps—not in the sense of punishment, just a simple concession of impulse. I could work to convince the Cardinal Court that, after some time, the church removes him under different pretenses. Of course, the charges wouldn’t have anything to do with the current situation."

Gray fell silent, still quietly observing him.

Dean swallowed hard and pressed on. "Lion King City is effectively under your control. Although he’d remain King, he’d be no different from a captive. We simply need to provide the Cardinal Court with the perception that you respect them, easing the other royal families’ suspicions toward the church. It’s just a façade. Afterward, it’d be simple to fabricate charges. This approach could temporarily achieve a reconciliation between you and the Cardinal Court. Of course, it’s only temporary—I can’t promise long-term outcomes, nor guarantee they’d agree, but it’s a promising start, one that could most closely align your goals. It’s worth a try."

Having finished, Dean spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness, watching Gray expectantly.

Gray’s silence lingered, becoming nearly unbearable for Dean.

Most troubling of all, Gray’s masked face betrayed nothing, leaving Dean unable to gauge his reaction.

Finally, Dean mustered the courage to ask, "Are you... angry?"

"No, I’m not," Gray said earnestly. "I’m just contemplating how to politely decline your suggestion. After all, I can sense your goodwill, and goodwill deserves to be treated with kindness."

Hearing this, Dean unexpectedly laughed—for the first time today, a genuine laugh.

"I’ve realized... you haven’t changed at all. At least, not at heart. I’m so relieved that you recognize my good intentions. Besides, if you really consider me a friend, don’t hold back—say what you truly think. Honestly, I knew you’d reject my idea before I even proposed it, so..." Dean gestured widely with his hands and smiled. "I’m ready for it."

"Shall I say it, then?"

"Please." Dean clasped his hands over his chest, smiling confidently, bracing for Gray’s reply.

"This approach is absolutely impossible," Gray said softly. "It would make everyone believe the King had done no wrong—because that’s precisely what we’d be admitting. Didn’t you once tell me that staying true to one’s faith and pursuing that faith with your heart is the best interpretation of belief? Those words still guide me and serve as my creed. Just as every nation is watching the church, everyone is watching me, too. We cannot condone wrongdoing through such methods. And fabricating charges—such actions are a sin. Not his sin but ours. I hope Mr. Priest understands. Your suggestion, I must refuse."

"I understand," Dean said, respectfully tracing a cross over his chest and smiling. "I’ll continue mediating and try to find a mutually acceptable solution between you and the church."

"Alright..." Gray replied hesitantly.

In an atmosphere of seemingly perfect harmony, the negotiations broke down.

...

"In your opinion, if the church and the Holy Knight clashed outright, without the intervention of those ancient figures, who would win?" Tavia asked.

"Hard to say," Zeda replied after a brief pause. "If those ancients remain uninvolved, the Holy Knight’s inhuman power would give him a distinct advantage—if he uses it wisely. But, the church... it doesn’t only rely on Heaven’s power."

"You mean they might draw on other forces?"

"Not ’might.’ They definitely will. In fact, those forces might already be in Lion King City. The church is in a dire crisis, and I’ve seen how extreme their methods can be. They stop at nothing," Zeda said quietly. "Perhaps, the negotiations were nothing more than a facade all along."

...

At this very moment, no one had yet noticed a figure in a blue cloak riding leisurely on horseback through the bustling streets of Lion King City, clutching a staff.

Around their neck hung a simple, ancient necklace. Inscribed on its pendant was a faint line of text that read: "Krimasha."