Not long after Jeanne departed, news of her being named the Saintess of Laterano began to spread, carried by the Sankta who had left their homeland for various corners of the world.
However, most nations had zero interest in a so-called Saintess of Laterano; after all, it had nothing to do with them. Besides, was it really so rare for a religious nation to appoint a Saintess? Those who knew little of Laterano's internal affairs dismissed it as trivial gossip.
Yet, among the sea of indifference, a few places took this news very seriously. Among them was Iberia, which shared a similar faith; for them, the emergence of a Saintess was a beacon of hope for the devout. Then there were the cities and nations that had previously dealt with Jeanne, such as Lungmen and Ursus. Upon receiving the news, they simply felt it was the most natural thing in the world.
But there was one outlier: Kazdel, a nation currently torn apart by civil war.
Curiously, the first to pay attention to this development were not the primary rulers.
When the Confessarii received this news, their leader sat in his chambers, contemplating for a long time. Eventually, regardless of the fact that it was deep into the night, he made his way toward the Regent's palace.
"It's quite rare to see you in my palace at this hour. What could possibly drive you to seek me out now? Has my sister finally pushed her forces to the base of the Royal City?"
When the Confessarius arrived at Theresis's palace, the Regent was equally surprised to hear of his visit. More than anything, he was curious—what kind of crisis was so urgent that this man couldn't even wait until morning?
Theresis generally lacked any modicum of goodwill toward this individual. Even though they were currently in the same boat, he never gave the Confessarii too much face. After all, knowing they were constantly plotting to unravel the power of the Demon King, it was already an act of extreme leniency that he hadn't wiped them out from the Royal Court.
The Confessarius seemed unbothered by Theresis's lack of welcome. He performed a traditional bow and spoke:
"Your Highness, we have just received news from Laterano. They have chosen a Saintess!"
At the mention of Laterano, Theresis's expression immediately soured. He had not forgotten how he had recently attempted to collude with Victoria to invade their territory while their defenses were supposedly weak, only to suffer heavy losses. It was supposed to be as easy as taking coins from a purse, but who knew the purse contained a mousetrap?
The offensive, intended to expand his military resources, had instead cost him dearly, turning a dominant domestic position into a grueling stalemate.
"And what is the point of bringing me this news? Do you intend for me to take this opportunity to send gifts to the Sankta to mend our relationship?"
Theresis's tone was thick with indifference. Why should he, the Regent of the Sarkaz, care about a Sankta Saintess? Would her existence suddenly dissolve the hatred between their races? Would it allow the Sarkaz to live openly upon this earth?
Theresis couldn't fathom the Confessarius's intent. Usually, as mysterious as this man was, the Regent could at least guess his goals. But tonight? To be woken up just as he was about to rest for this? Had the man decided to convert to the faith?
"It is more than that. Through her, we may find a way to make the nations of Terra fear us—perhaps even an opportunity to rule this land once more!"
Seeing that Theresis was about to dismiss him, the Confessarius stopped playing games and got straight to the point. This piqued Theresis's interest; he wanted to know exactly what kind of "thing" could rewrite the status quo. He turned to face the Confessarius. Although he often felt the man was trying to swindle him, the Confessarii rarely spoke empty words. And they were Confessarii—beings considered peculiar even among the Sarkaz. Perhaps he truly did have a surprise in store.
Seeing Theresis's interest, the Confessarius began to recount an ancient secret recorded within their race.
"There was such an event in Sarkaz history? I was unaware! But what does this have to do with that Saintess?"
As he listened, Theresis felt a burning desire to obtain that horn capable of controlling Catastrophes. With such an object, his plans would be far easier to execute. But the item was currently inside the city of Laterano. He was not confident he could assemble a force capable of successfully sieging a city that had stood for so many years. He knew the limits of his current strength; even if the Ten Royal Courts gathered and he and Theresa joined forces, they might not succeed.
"To track its location, our family once left a mark upon that horn. During the period this Saintess appeared, it moved."
However, the information stopped there. He had no further news on the Saintess's current location or where the horn might be. Even the tracking curse on the horn had only functioned once outside the city of Laterano before being completely destroyed.
"Furthermore, the Ten Royal Courts all have legends regarding this matter, though they differ slightly. However, the Demon King likely knows far more than we do. After all, she possesses the memories of the monarch from that era; she would naturally know the circumstances."
Seeing Theresis sink into deep thought, the Confessarius added this final remark before slipping away from the palace, disappearing before the Regent could react to the provocation.
Hearing those inflammatory words, Theresis glanced toward the doorway, only to find the man had already departed. He walked alone through the empty, cavernous palace, his heart a whirlwind of emotions.
The Demon King knows that history. She knows such a thing existed—a treasure that belonged to the Sarkaz, the key to their rise.
He replayed the Confessarius's final words. While clearly meant to incite conflict, they were likely the truth. If she had told him, he might have personally traveled to Laterano. No matter how many Sarkaz lives were lost, he would have secured that object!
"Even a matter as critical as this... you did not tell me? Just how much are you hiding from me, my sister?"
He looked toward the distant direction of Babel, then turned back to his chambers. But sleep was now impossible.
As dawn broke, he issued a command to summon the other members of the Royal Courts currently in Kazdel, intent on extracting everything they knew about the artifact's past. He knew there were supporters of his sister among them and that this news would reach her, but he didn't care.
Although several Royal Court members were uninterested in the summons, they decided to show up out of respect for the Regent. However, when they gathered in the palace and heard him asking about what was essentially considered a nursery rhyme within their families, they were at a loss for words.
They didn't believe in that past. Stories of Sankta and Sarkaz fighting over a world-controlling treasure sounded like fairy tales told to children. This was unavoidable; their history had been destroyed countless times. Now, even finding a shred of true history was a monumental task.
"I do not know if the object exists, but that war certainly did. A Vampire on that battlefield was of my grandfather's generation; it is said he died there."
The words of the Sanguinarch were the only ones of value. According to him, that ancestor didn't even live long enough to receive medical treatment, turning into a stone statue in a most peculiar fashion. Unfortunately, by the time the Sanguinarch was born, that statue had already been destroyed in the fires of war. The story survived only as oral tradition within their tribe.
Regrettably, the Wendigos, who carried the memories of the past, were not here. Otherwise, more valuable information might have been gleaned.
"Immediately dispatch personnel to find the last pure-blooded Wendigo!"
Thus, after the meeting concluded, Theresis issued this order. He sent several of his Shadows Of The Lord—and even the Confessarii—into the frozen tundras to find Patriot.
His suspicions were confirmed shortly thereafter. It wasn't long before this intelligence was delivered into the hands of his sister by one, or perhaps several, members of the Royal Court.