“Don’t be afraid, I won’t mess things up. I’m just here to find out who’s really suspected of killing the Pope, that’s all.” Samimi patted her chest, giving a confident guarantee.
The entire Kun Jun Order has mobilized. Now, the whole People’s Square in the royal capital is cordoned off by them.
Once we enter, we’ll have to keep our heads down and quietly watch the show. If we try anything, the Saint Blade Walkers will definitely take us out.
The funeral procession entered the empty People’s Square of the royal capital. Inside, all the seats were filled with invited royal dignitaries, noble families, and the major figures of the kingdom’s business world.
A Pope’s funeral is the perfect excuse to gather all the big names in one place. Nobody actually cares about the Pope—they’re all focused on their own interests and futures.
Everyone was whispering to one another, some talking business, some discussing the transfer of power, some taking the opportunity to make new connections. Everywhere you looked, the atmosphere was thick with politics and social maneuvering.
There were also plenty of high-ranking clergy mingling among the officials and merchants, talking about faith on the surface, but their minds were all on profit, faking sincerity, faking grief.
But Samimi was already used to it. If they didn’t act like this, that would be the real surprise.
“Do you think Nan Jin can kill someone under this kind of heavy guard?” Samimi asked in a low voice.
“Of course she can, easily. If she wants someone dead, she doesn’t need to sneak in at all—she could snipe anyone from a thousand meters away. Unless there’s a prior warning, nobody could possibly defend against her arrows. If Nan Jin doesn’t take the initiative, I won’t be able to determine where she’s hiding,” Qi Qi said, looking out at the tall buildings surrounding the square—every one of them was a perfect spot for a sniper.
“Find the trail quickly,” Samimi and Lang Qi scouted the crowd, searching for traces of Clois.
But then, as soon as they stepped into People’s Square, something went wrong.
They hadn’t found any sign of Clois at all. Their carefully arranged plan fell apart at the very first step.
But Clois not coming is actually a good thing!
If she’s not here, then her so-called ‘Father of Gods’ won’t show up to meet her, which means Nan Jin’s assassination plan can’t go through.
Is that really it? Could things be so simple?
“No, that’s not right. I’ve just received a tip—she’s already returned,” Qi Qi’s expression turned grim.
Now it was Qi Qi’s turn to get a bad feeling.
She realized things weren’t going to be that easy. If Clois had arrived, Nan Jin was certainly lying in ambush somewhere as well.
Both of her clan members were here, but neither could be seen—this was the most terrifying part of the Spiritkin.
Especially that young, half-grown Spiritkin—her growth had been terrifyingly fast. She had quickly figured out how to use her racial abilities.
Now, both the protagonist Qi Qi and the transmigrator Samimi felt a sense of foreboding. And in this other world, such premonitions were always accurate. Something big was definitely about to happen.
Even Samimi had no way to predict what would happen next. The transmigrator’s abilities failed her at this very moment.
This mess was a hundred times more complicated than anything at the Magic Academy or the Crimson Court. It was clear that the Min Ting was something utterly unpredictable—
A human-made monster with no weaknesses. Even if its brain, Min Ban, was killed, it would just split into eight parts.
“There’s nothing we can do, then. We can only move to the second step of the plan,” Kun Sezhu said.
“What is it?” Samimi asked.
“Wait and see. Adapt to the situation,” Kun Qizhu answered.
“That’s the same as saying nothing at all,” Samimi complained.
“I’ll patrol the back row and find Nan Jin’s sniping position. You stay here and keep watch with the team,” Kun Sezhu assigned.
“No problem,” Samimi nodded, then added, “But if something happens to me, don’t rush to help. I have my own plan.”
“But didn’t you say that if I ever got in trouble, you’d be the first to help me? Why can’t I help you now?” Qi Qizhu demanded.
“I’m the chess player, you’re the pawn, got it?” Samimi tapped her temple and smiled.
Qi Qi left, suspicious and a bit indignant, but didn’t say anything more. She was the first to walk off, heading for the back row of the square.
Samimi stood alone on the large platform in the square, watching as the Pope’s icy body was carried onto the stage. One by one, the dignitaries came up to pay their final respects.
The funeral was not being hosted by the Pope’s family, but rather by two chief archbishops in gold-trimmed red robes.
The two stood side by side, several purple-robed bishops behind them, as well as three young ladies from the noble houses, selected for their beauty.
“Not good. None of them are decent people.”
Samimi studied the faces of the two red-robed archbishops. Her earlier guesses were now almost entirely overturned.
One of them was tall and burly, with a face like a slab of stone—square-jawed, stern, with an air of unyielding authority, and not a hint of expression, like a living statue.
This man was the embodiment of the “crazy fanatic,” matching every trait you’d expect in a zealot priest.
The other red-robed archbishop was a fat, broad man whose red robe seemed about to burst at the seams. He was full of expressions, always smiling no matter what was said, always calculating in his heart, giving off the air of a schemer.
He was the very image of a sly, treacherous clergyman, matching every common fantasy the masses had about corrupt priests.
“One is an iron-faced judge, the other a smiling tiger—neither is a simple character,”
That was Samimi’s first impression of them.
And in this world, the first impression and premonition usually turned out to be true ninety-nine times out of a hundred.
Before, Samimi thought the Pope’s death might not have anything to do with the chief archbishops, or that it wasn’t even murder—maybe he really did just die of illness.
But looking at these two archbishops with their villainous faces, the fact that the Pope even survived this long was already a miracle.
Of course, that was just Samimi’s own guess—she had no evidence.
She couldn’t yet decide if they had ill intentions toward the Pope’s granddaughter, Mary Wenlin. She’d have to wait for their speeches and listen for any hints of high-minded talk before deciding her next move.
“You… what are you doing here?”
But before the red-robed archbishops even started their ceremony, a minor commotion arose on Samimi’s side.
Samimi stood below the stage, arms folded, watching the spectacle, when someone approached her out of nowhere and began to speak—apparently recognizing her.
Now, that’s odd. Unless it was for plot reasons, how many people in the royal capital would even recognize her?
She did have some fame from the Sheep Cleric Symposium, but most of the other clerics were stuck at home today and couldn’t come.
Samimi turned her head and saw, to her surprise, someone who looked almost exactly like herself, dressed in a thick, white priest’s robe—like looking in a mirror.
But no, she had already changed into her Valkyrie outfit—she was a combat priest now.
Anyone who looked so much like her had to be either her mother, Lady Felingbo, or that little brat.
Judging by the hair, it was obvious—they were different enough to recognize right away.
“It’s you. Why are you at every big event?” Samimi glanced at her, then turned away, acting as if nothing had happened.
“Why are you here? What about your atonement? And what’s with these clothes? How did you sneak in?” The fuzzy-haired priest bombarded her with questions, but kept her voice low, not wanting to draw attention.
At least she had some sense. If she’d made a scene, Samimi would have looked down on her.
She wasn’t a stranger—she was Samimi’s older cousin, a Saint Blade Walker, Felina Yaling.
“Still so arrogant. Didn’t grow a brain, huh?” Samimi ignored her questions, showing no respect.
Felina was now a Royal Family Appointed Priest, so it made sense for her to be here.
“Those clothes… don’t tell me you’ve been officially reinstated?” Felina sidled up beside Samimi for convenience, still asking questions.
This time, she didn’t act all high and mighty like before—just a bit put out. Seemed she was still a little bruised from last time Samimi beat her up.
“Just a part-time job,” Samimi answered nonchalantly.
“Part-time? The Holy See allows that? I’m not even serving in the Min Jiang anymore, don’t lie to me,” Felina was full of suspicion.
“What’s wrong with you? Are you my old lady? Why so nosy? Want to be my mom or something? You’re like a buzzing bug in my ear,” Samimi complained, “Can’t you leave? Are we even close? Are you my dear sister? Last time you saw me, you wanted to hit me!”
Felina was scolded until her face turned pale, and for a moment, she was at a loss for words.
Samimi wasn’t wrong—sisterly affection in the Yaling family was almost nonexistent, let alone between the two of them.
But Felina just refused to leave, standing there dumbly at Samimi’s side, watching the flow of dignitaries on the stage.
“If you won’t go, then I will!” Samimi couldn’t take it anymore, pretended to patrol, and walked off to another side to continue watching.
But as soon as she moved, Felina followed her—just like a little bug.
“Damn it…,” Samimi fumed inwardly.
“I can’t get in touch with the Saintess or Lady Felinbo. They left a message telling me not to worry, but do you know where they are?” Felina looked around to make sure no one was listening, then asked.
“I’m an outcast from both my order and my family—how would I know where they are?” Samimi replied.
“You really didn’t get reinstated? Then why act so confidently? Judging by the look of you, haven’t you already completed atonement? Are you finally back on the straight and narrow?” Felina pressed.
“Damn—Felina really does talk my head off.”
It was definitely a family trait. This little sister’s nagging wasn’t any less intense than Lady Felingbo’s—maybe even worse.
Even more strict! Even more annoying! Even more persistent!
“Yeah, fine, whatever.” Samimi resisted the urge to lash out, put the big picture first, and perfunctorily replied.
She couldn’t fight her cousin’s pestering, so she could only grit her teeth and bear it.
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