Suddenly, my mind goes blank.
…Right, I definitely gave permission to lend my name.
I did give my approval to the saintess.
‘But how in the world did she interpret my words like this?’
Naturally, this isn’t what I had in mind.
I thought it would end up as something small, like a short article tucked into the corner of a newspaper: “Professor Riyan publicly declares his support for the extremist faction.” That’s all I expected!
‘But what?’
‘I’m the divine being itself?’
‘Descending to reform the corrupt Holy Kingdom?’
I knew the saintess was insane.
A crazy person doing crazy things—well, that might be expected.
But I at least believed her faith was unshakable.
‘I never imagined she’d fail to recognize her own god and instead fall into a cult! Who could’ve foreseen such madness?’
I need to resolve this situation quickly, no matter what.
With that thought, I rushed to the saintess.
There she was, calmly praying with a serene expression, holding a cross.
This was the women’s dormitory, and I’d just trespassed, disabling all the locks with reverse engineering.
Yet the mad saintess didn’t scream or panic.
Instead, she welcomed me.
With a smile full of reverence, as if she were deeply moved that someone as great as me would need her help, she looked overjoyed.
This… This is a severe case.
For a moment, I wondered if the saintess was merely pretending to be insane as part of a calculated strategy.
‘Did she misunderstand me as some sort of omnipotent, genius professor and craft this elaborate scheme to use me? Was this all to force me into conflict with the Papacy and wipe out the moderates?’
That suspicion vanished immediately.
She was serious.
She genuinely believed I was a god and was worshiping me wholeheartedly.
‘I should’ve noticed something was off sooner.’
It’s strange for a saintess to revere a mortal.
Her devotion to me had always been overly excessive.
There were definite signs that she might have been harboring some strange misunderstanding about me.
But back at the Royal Academy, all the students were so thoroughly brainwashed that it was impossible to notice.
It was a constant atmosphere of devotion.
Everyone was in fanatic mode, so the oddness didn’t stand out.
A painful mistake.
But the milk has already been spilled.
I have to somehow convince her that I’m not a god.
I have to get her to retract her statements.
That’s what I was thinking… until I froze.
Because I’d just realized one crucial fact.
‘Will this situation even be fixable if she retracts her statements?’
The fact that the saintess has fallen into a cult has already gone public.
And the leader of that cult is me.
It’s practically a public declaration of war, and I’m deeply entangled in this incident.
‘Even if she takes everything back now and denies it all, will anyone actually believe us?’
‘After making this much of a mess, will saying “it’s canceled” really make it all go away?’
‘…No. Absolutely not.’
Even if I bow down and plead, “It was just the saintess spouting nonsense! Please spare me,” the moderates—who hold real power—will see me as a threat and try to eliminate me.
This isn’t just about pride.
This involves the dignity of an entire nation.
It’s a matter tied to their political survival.
To restore the Holy Kingdom’s authority, they’d have to capture and punish both me and the saintess as criminals.
In short, we’ve come too far to turn back.
A deep sigh escaped me naturally.
With the most miserable face in the world, I said to her “I have decided to place great trust in you. From now on, you must protect and care for me with all your heart.”
I spoke those words only because I realized there was no convincing this lunatic.
I decided it was better to just play along, acting like a god and pretending to be in control.
Even with such an awkward performance, she was ecstatic.
Her eyes sparkled with a fanatical devotion that would be terrifying to deny.
Not that I wasn’t scared—it would be a lie to say otherwise.
But… I needed her.
‘The Papacy isn’t stupid. They’ll obviously retaliate after such a blatant provocation.’
Sending an army might be overkill.
They wouldn’t want to trigger a full-scale war with the Empire.
Instead, they’d likely send a small, elite force for an assassination attempt.
If I were in their shoes, the most “elegant” solution would be… claiming it was the extremists acting out in anger over the saintess’s betrayal.
They could eliminate obstacles while simultaneously gaining an excuse to suppress the extremists.
‘And there’s no one as vulnerable to assassination as me.’
‘If the enemy were a mage, I’d have countless counters.’
‘But against a sneak attack?’ I’m completely defenseless.
I can’t sense killing intent or dodge an ambush through some sixth sense.
On top of that, my physical abilities are utterly unimpressive.
If someone stabs me, I’ll die.
A skilled assassin targeting me could end my life before I even realized what happened.
So, I need protection, no matter what.
That’s why I just asked the saintess to guard me.
And yet… I still don’t feel reassured.
‘The saintess is strong, sure. But the Papacy must know she’s on my side.’
They’ll likely deploy an elite force capable of overpowering even her.
Just relying on the saintess isn’t enough.
I pondered for a moment… and made a decision.
Not something grand or overambitious.
The situation is already overwhelming as it is.
I don’t want to escalate things any further.
I’ll just summon one more bodyguard.
Someone strong enough to keep me safe.
***
The Iron-Blooded Duke of the Empire, Scott Fenrir, was deep in thought with a serious expression.
His junior had come to rely on him.
“Please don’t tell anyone else about this. I don’t want to make things bigger than they already are. I’d like you to secretly take on the role of my bodyguard.”
It was undoubtedly touching that someone like Riyan had come to him with such a request before anyone else.
But the very fact that someone like Riyan needed help was a serious issue in itself.
The unparalleled genius professor.
For someone of that caliber to seek his assistance, the situation must be dire.
‘What could possibly have happened?’
He didn’t even need to ask.
He was an avid reader of newspapers and was well aware of both Riyan’s personality and that of Saintess Christiana.
The saintess had mistaken Riyan for a divine being.
The slightly unhinged saintess had gone so far as to issue a declaration of war.
And yet, Riyan, being the kindhearted professor that he was, couldn’t bring himself to abandon his student.
He must have decided to help her, leading to the current predicament.
A war against an entire nation.
Even for Riyan, this wasn’t an easy task.
But he didn’t want his troubles to burden anyone else.
That’s why he reached out only to a trusted senior.
‘Now is the time to teach my junior a valuable lesson as a senior,’ Scott thought.
Sometimes, one has to learn to borrow the strength of others.
Sometimes, one has to know how to rely on someone else.
Having come to that conclusion, the Iron-Blooded Duke picked up his pen.
It wasn’t as if he was planning anything monumental.
All he intended to do was share the current situation with one reliable and capable person and ask for their cooperation.
Scott quickly wrote a letter.
Of course, as he poured his emotions into it, he couldn’t help but slightly exaggerate and twist the truth in Riyan’s favor.
‘It’s not a big deal,’ he thought. ‘This much should be fine.’
The letter was received by Merlin, the White Tower Master.
Merlin thought to himself, ‘My master is in danger! This is a situation where I, as his disciple, must take immediate action!’
The letter did contain a request: [Please keep this confidential. Only share it with those you absolutely trust.]
‘But surely it wouldn’t hurt to share this secret with one or two truly reliable individuals and ask for their help, right?’
Merlin quickly wrote his own letter.
Once again, as emotions flowed into it, he couldn’t help but slightly exaggerate and twist the truth in Riyan’s favor.
‘It’s not a big deal,’ he thought. ‘This much should be fine.’
The letter reached Midas, the Gold Tower Master, who quickly wrote his own letter.
The letter reached Karin, the Mercenary King, who promptly wrote her own letter.
The letter reached the President of the Adventurers’ Guild, who hastily wrote his own letter.
The letter reached the Sword Saint of the Empire, who also began writing furiously.
Finally, the current Emperor of the Empire, Arthur, held one such letter in his trembling hands.
His face contorted like a wrathful demon.
The ever-wise and composed emperor, now unable to contain his fury, ground his teeth and rolled his eyes back as he growled in a quivering voice,” So…
‘The Papacy conspired with demons to plan an assassination?’
“They spread the false rumor that the saintess declared him a divine being, just to create a pretext for murdering him?”
“And as if that wasn’t enough, they went so far as to kidnap the children from the orphanage he sponsors, grind their flesh into meat juice, and send it to him as a threat?”
“And then… you’re telling me they threatened to slaughter every single orphan who didn’t surrender to them, rape their corpses, grind them into juice, and drink it in front of him while laughing?!”
“JUST TO FORCE HIM TO KNEEL?!”
Arthur’s voice shook with fury, and his hands crumpled the letter in his grip.
The Emperor’s roar resounded across the palace like the wail of an enraged beast.
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