Chapter 39: The Report to the Capital
On the final day of her inspection, Liliana sat in a room of the Arkwright mansion, pen in hand, deep in thought.
The parchment before her was still blank.
She fully understood that the report she was about to write would have a tremendous impact on the royal capital and the future of the kingdom.
Originally, this report had been meant as a denunciation of Zenon von Arkwright’s misdeeds—a formal accusation intended to bring his lands under the light of God.
But now, such thoughts were entirely absent from her mind.
What filled her memory instead was Zenon’s “true self,” as she had witnessed it over the past few weeks:
The deep compassion hidden behind his cold words.
The unwavering will to save the people underlying his rational policies.
And the lonely figure of a man bearing it all alone, with no one understanding him.
(I must convey this…)
Liliana gripped her pen tightly.
(His true self. The radiance of his noble soul. I must present it accurately to this world. This is my mission alone, for I am the one who understands his loneliness.)
With her resolve set, her pen began to move across the parchment smoothly and passionately, as if guided by divine revelation.
What she wrote was no ordinary inspection report.
It was a passionate epic celebrating the achievements of a “saint,” a document as fervent as a love letter.
At the beginning of the report, she wrote:
“To His Majesty, and the High Priest: What I witnessed in the lands of Arkwright was not the work of a so-called demon. What I saw was a solitary saint, one who, out of a love so deep, willingly masks himself and plays the role of evil, yet spares no effort to save his people.”
She described each of Zenon’s reforms through her “Saint filter”:
- Financial reform: “A bitter decision to purge the corruption, enduring even the pain of his own family.”
- Agricultural revolution: “A miraculous act to ensure all the people could partake in the divine bounty of the land.”
- Commercial revitalization: “A godlike maneuver, skillfully directing human desires into the vitality of the entire domain.”
- Epidemic measures and refugee acceptance: “A heart of fervent compassion hidden beneath a mask of coldness, striving to save more lives than anyone else.”
The report grew longer and more impassioned by the minute.
She found profound meaning even in Zenon’s gestures, his words, and sometimes a single casual sigh, weaving them into poetic descriptions:
“His blue eyes always look a hundred years ahead; his silence is a depth of thought beyond our comprehension.”
“His cold words are a sacred whip to stir the soul, and his lonely back bears, alone, all the sins we ought to carry—a savior in form.”
After hours of intense effort, she finally completed a grand report spanning several sheets of parchment.
Liliana read it back with satisfaction, waited for the ink to dry, and carefully sealed it, pressing the royal wax seal firmly shut.
Her mission was accomplished.
Her heart was filled with a clear sense of achievement, and with warm feelings toward Zenon.
A few days later, the royal castle of Londinium was thrown into turmoil.
King Edward IV trembled on his throne, holding the report Liliana had delivered.
It was not anger—only pure confusion.
“…What is this?”
His strained voice echoed through the silent audience hall.
The chancellor and other ministers, holding copies of the report, wore equally incredulous expressions.
“A solitary saint? A savior? What on earth did the Saint see…?”
“Perhaps Zenon threatened her, or bewitched her with magic…”
One noble spoke cautiously, only to be immediately contradicted:
“Nonsense. She is the foremost Saint of this era. No evil magic could affect her sacred soul.”
“So… this report was written sincerely by the Saint herself…?”
The audience hall erupted into chaos, like a stirred hive.
The Saint, who had set out to condemn a demon, had returned praising that same demon as a “saint.”
How could such a ridiculous thing happen?
The confusion extended even to the First Prince, Alphonse.
He gripped the report with frustration, deep furrows forming on his brow.
“…Impossible. Saint Liliana could not be mistaken. Yet Zenon cannot possibly be a saint.”
In his mind, two “justices” he had believed in collided head-on, sparking fierce mental conflict.
“In any case…”
After long deliberation, the King finally spoke solemnly:
“We can no longer sit idly by.”
He surveyed everyone in the audience hall and resolutely declared:
“We must see with our own eyes what is happening in the Arkwright territory. Why has the Saint been moved so deeply? I, King Edward IV, command Zenon von Arkwright to appear in the capital for inquiry.”
This decision only accelerated the confusion in the capital.
Who was this “solitary saint” praised by the Saint?
Were all the rumors of a cold-blooded, devilish tyrant false?
The curiosity and speculation of every noble in the capital now focused on this third son, in the remote Arkwright lands.
Meanwhile, Zenon in Arkwright had no inkling of the commotion in the capital.
He simply felt genuine relief that the “irrational risk factor” named Liliana had finally left his domain, allowing him to concentrate quietly on his plans.
Little did he realize that the super-sized “gift” she had left behind—a bomb of a report—was now hurtling straight toward him.