Jeanne watched with her own eyes as the Sarkaz soldiers pursuing them were seized as if by a giant, invisible hand and hurled far into the distance. As for whether those Sarkaz soldiers were injured upon falling back to the ground? No one cared about such things anymore.
Sacred light had enveloped the camp, transforming into an impenetrable protective barrier. That barrier reminded Jeanne of her own Noble Phantasm—a defensive screen likewise composed of light, an equally unbreakable defense.
Seeing this, the surrounding Sarkaz soldiers began using their various arts to attack. But no matter the method, their efforts were in vain. Later, Jeanne even saw several massive Wendigos raise their weapons and swing them against the barrier. It was useless; the defense of this barrier made purely of light was extraordinarily powerful, and they could think of no way to shatter it.
As for the Vampires, they no longer cared about the lives of others and fled the battlefield. They felt the agony of being touched by that light; they even felt their bodies beginning to grow stiff.
And the Sarkaz inside the barrier? Jeanne watched as the horns on their heads and the tails behind them miraculously vanished, replaced by halos and wing fragments.
This... is the origin of the Sankta's birth?
Because she had been focused on the battle, Jeanne hadn't seen exactly what the Saint had done inside the Tower of Revelation. But she knew in her heart that the operation of this machine—the feat of transforming an entire race in an instant—was not something achievable by human power. Perhaps it was their spirit, willing to sacrifice themselves to stop such atrocities, that gained His recognition. Thus, the miracle known as Angels descended upon them.
The scene that followed piqued Jeanne's interest. The newly transformed Sankta Saints charged out of the Tower of Revelation, weapons in hand. They held various types of firearms. The leader, a burly man, charged toward the opposing Sarkaz with a revolving firearm nearly as tall as himself.
For that era, firearms were far too advanced. Once the etched bullets struck the Sarkaz, their iron armor offered no protection. The battle proceeded smoothly; once the other Sankta received their own Patron Firearms, the tide was completely turned.
"We shall store this world-ending object here until the messenger of God comes to take it. From this day forth, we shall be known as the Sankta, and we shall establish a paradise upon this earth..."
Vaguely, Jeanne seemed to hear the voices of the Saints echoing once more, telling her of the ancient secrets buried beneath history. Not even their own descendants knew of this object's existence. Perhaps the only ones who still knew were that specific family and the Demon King who inherited the memories of souls.
As for Laterano, they might have known they were guarding something, but through generations of succession, even the current Pope seemed to believe that the "secret" referred only to the machine and the Law.
"We shall prove to You, and to Your messenger, that beauty can still exist on this earth—that it is not an irredeemable desert requiring the cleansing of sin."
This was the reason for founding Laterano. They knew that the one capable of fully utilizing this object would eventually arrive and take this terrible weapon away. But they were more aware of the evils of the outside world; they feared that the messenger would find the world beyond saving and believe only a total purging could purify it.
To this end, for a thousand years, Laterano had tried every means to let the flowers of beauty bloom, hoping they might even grow in the world outside. Iberia was one such attempt; they had hoped Iberia could become a second Laterano. But the outcome was a disappointment. Even Jeanne knew they had failed; after the the Profound Silence, Iberia had regressed to its former state. As for the truth behind the incident triggered by the Iberian government, it remained unclear to this day.
"O God, O Supreme God! Please give us, the bearers of original sin, one more chance! We will prove that the Sankta will not betray Your trust."
The illusion of the past gradually faded before Jeanne's eyes. The golden horn ceased to glow, leaving only their final prayers echoing in the room.
"You have already proven everything. May your souls sleep peacefully in paradise." Jeanne spoke to the empty room as the images disappeared.
"I don't know why, but I feel a sudden tightness in my chest. I have this urge to cry. Is it because I've become an old man and I'm getting sentimental?"
The Pope didn't know what was happening to him. His chest felt congested, and an urge to weep echoed in his heart. Fortunately, his emotional control was excellent; he managed to suppress the stray emotions before he could cry in front of his juniors. If that happened, he'd lose a lot of face! He'd probably have to find a memory-erasing spell—or failing that, rely on physical force to ensure silence.
"I think you have high blood pressure from eating too many sweets. Since you're an old man, could you stop eating so much sugar?"
By this time, Andoain had recovered somewhat from the continuous shock of information. He even had the mind to bicker with the Pope. Although it was strange for a wanted criminal to argue with a national leader, the atmosphere in Laterano had never been "normal" to begin with.
To him, his worldview had already been shattered tonight; he might as well tear it all down and start building from scratch. The reason he hadn't taken this chance to slip away was curiosity about what Jeanne would bring out of that mysterious room. Otherwise, why stay? To wait for the Pope to treat him to dinner? It wasn't impossible, but it would likely be prison food.
"How long was I in there? Have you two become so close already?"
At that moment, Jeanne emerged from the room with a miniature version of the horn hanging around her neck. She hadn't expected this thing to be like that monkey's staff, able to change size as she wished. Otherwise, carrying such a large horn would have been a burden!
Seeing the two of them chatting like this, Jeanne found it quite miraculous. Weren't you two just at the point of shooting each other? You've already turned the page?
"Sitting here was boring, so we exchanged a few words. Besides, I'm not that petty. I don't need to give him some 'unforgettable lesson,' do I?"
Seeing Jeanne emerge, a look of joy appeared on the Pope's face. He was eager to know what she had seen inside. Then, he spotted the papers in her hand—likely things left behind by those who had entered before.
"It was indeed very shocking inside. It looks like an area used to maintain the special gifts bestowed upon the Sankta; I didn't dare touch anything randomly."
Before the old man could ask, Jeanne explained the situation and handed him the papers.
"These are letters left by your founding Saints. To be honest, they were scattered quite a bit; it took a lot of effort to gather them all."
Jeanne handed the documents to the Pope. However, she had left the records from the previous civilization inside. She had no intention of letting anyone else know about them. While she was angry at the actions of the previous civilization of this planet, it had all passed countless years ago. There was no need to tell them. Since they had been forgiven, why should they be made to carry the burden of something that had nothing to do with them?
Furthermore, it was a question of whether the participants from those days even left descendants. Jeanne didn't think her God, with His particular "small-mindedness" regarding certain matters, would have let them live very well.