The Fake Saintess Awaits Her Exit

On the first day of the prayer meeting, I recognized the intentional disguise as an old man the moment our eyes met. However, I had never imagined his true form would be like this.

The man ceased his palm-licking gesture. Though the nearby onlookers seemed perplexed by the slightly elongated meeting of palms, their confusion stopped there. Only he and I knew the nature of his previous actions. Should I reprimand his impertinence or simply let it pass as if it were of no consequence? While pondering this dilemma, he rose to his feet.

He was a rather tall man, appearing no less substantial even when standing next to Latvan. It was uncommon to find someone of such physique who did not seem small in comparison to the knight, Latvan. Of course, his impression differed considerably from that of the knight.

A mane of bright golden hair of moderate length bestowed a vibrant aura upon him. Beneath straight, well-groomed eyebrows rested deep azure eyes, a refined nose, and well-shaped lips. Overall, he exuded a striking appearance that seemed exceedingly resplendent. Despite everything being impeccably neat, he carried an air of self-assurance as if he had possessed it since birth. Superficially, it could be mistaken for arrogance, but such an atmosphere suited him remarkably well.

My senses were sharply attuned to this man’s presence.

He was definitely no ordinary person.

“Who are you?”

Before I could finish my sentence, he smiled.

“My name is Leon Habel Appelius.”

Appelius? As I contemplated stepping back from that name, he approached me and spoke.

“I am the Crown Prince of the Appelius Empire.”

His words caused a chilling silence to descend upon the banquet hall.

***

A few weeks ago, Leon was summoned by the Emperor, his father.

Despite his weariness, Leon humbly bowed his head in genuine reverence for the Emperor’s enduring majesty. He had been the conquering Emperor who led the Empire before becoming his father. As a citizen of the Empire, it was only appropriate for Leon to hold profound respect for such a figure.

The Emperor, now ruling the Empire through his son, issued a simple command.

“Go and inspect the temple for me.”

Had there been anyone else present, Leon would have maintained his usual light smile without a hint of concern. However, in this moment, there was only the Emperor and no one else, and Leon did not hide his displeasure.

Though the Emperor was known for his rationality and firmness, he was also a father with finite patience towards his son. Thus, the Emperor merely pursed his lips in response to Leon’s expression, refraining from scolding him.

“Do you find even that task distasteful?”

“It is simply tedious, Your Majesty.”

Leon’s prompt response earned him a pursed lip from the Emperor. Undoubtedly, the command must have seemed mundane to Leon. He had been born and raised within the confines of the palace, giving the impression of a life untouched by hardship. His appearance exuded elegance and grace, seemingly devoid of any coarseness. However, the Emperor knew that beneath that visage, his son concealed a savage nature.

“Blood cannot be deceived.”

Despite his resemblance to the Empress, Leon possessed the hunger of a famished lion, despite his outward appearance resembling that of a peacock.

“Surely, you have other tasks to attend to. After all, you recently dismantled Astia.”

Astia, a relatively powerful nation located at the edge of the Empire. Leon had led the Imperial Army and exacted retribution for Astia’s transgressions, even going so far as to charge them interest. Now, there was no country by the name of Astia to be found anywhere on the continent.

As Leon, still driven by his boiling blood, sought his next prey, the Emperor could only express disappointment at the prospect of Leon inspecting the temple.

“I would rather take care of affairs within the palace. There are many matters to attend to.”

“The saint is acting peculiarly.”

“What do you mean?”

Leon straightened his posture. His informants had not provided him with such information. The Emperor’s network of information still held an advantage over Leon’s.

“I heard she has been working diligently since her recent collapse.”

Those words brought a disappointed expression to Leon’s face. It was the same information he had received from his own sources. However, the following words from the Emperor stiffened his body.

“And it seems the Night Escapades of the Commander of the Templars have become frequent.”

“….”

Leon inwardly cursed. The temple had been the only place his network of informants had been unable to penetrate. The Emperor had planted people even there.

“Investigate it thoroughly and report back.”

“I understand, Your Majesty.”

“While you’re at it, offer some prayers for atonement for the slaughter.”

“Do you mean to say I should become a priest?”

Prayers for atonement for slaughter—something that neither of the nobles ever engaged in. The conversation came to an end there.

Upon returning to his office, Leon gave his subordinates simple instructions. These subordinates, who were suddenly redirected from the battlefield to the temple, raised their eyebrows in curiosity and asked him.

“Has the saint finally captured your interest?”

“Ah, the saint.”

Leon replied as if he had just remembered.

In truth, the Crown Prince’s interest lay not with the saint but with the Commander of the Templars, Latvan. When asked to name the strongest knight on the continent, people would unanimously mention Latvan without hesitation. It was a sore point for the Imperial Knights. Leon had yet to meet Latvan in person, having only heard rumors of his exploits.

Stories of his feats such as slaying demons with an unblessed sword in a single strike or single-handedly facing hordes of demons that engulfed entire villages.

Upon hearing that Latvan had recently severed ties with the saint, Leon wondered how he could somehow bring Latvan into the ranks of the Imperial Knights.

“If I go to the temple, I must meet this man called Latvan.”