Before the awe-struck crowd, the cloud of white doves seemed to catch a silent order. The neat ring scattered back into loose formations, the birds slowly gliding away from the sanctuary until the sky cleared. Surrounding onlookers murmured in breathless praise, struggling to find words for the miraculous sight they had just witnessed.
As the crowd gazed up at the fading flock, Jeanne quietly stepped out from a side entrance. Spotting the mass of people clustered near the courtyard, she quickened her pace, blending into the surrounding throng.
Fortunately, everyone's eyes were still glued to the sky. No one noticed the Saintess slipping out, missing their chance to swarm her—a stroke of luck Jeanne thoroughly appreciated.
"What on earth just happened out there?" Jeanne asked, making her way back to Lemuen and the others to retrieve Fafnir. She had a strong hunch that whatever transpired outside was no ordinary event.
"You were inside the whole time? No wonder," Lemuen said with a warm smile as Jeanne approached. "Honestly, whenever something bizarre happens in Laterano, all we have to do is check whether you're anywhere in the vicinity."
Jeanne could only offer an awkward, self-deprecating laugh. Put that way, it was hard to argue; practically every strange phenomenon in Laterano seemed tied to her in one way or another.
To the people here, she must have seemed like a walking miracle generator. Every appearance brought some breathtaking spectacle, giving the local Sankta endless fodder for conversation.
For most people, witnessing a single miracle in a lifetime was more than enough. Yet over the past couple of years, wondrous sights had become almost routine.
"What are your plans now? Heading back to Lungmen, or staying a while?" Seeing that the trio seemed to be in better spirits, Jeanne put off seeking out the Pope for a moment to chat with them.
"Us? We plan to stay in Laterano for now," Lemuen replied. Her gaze softened with a mixture of nostalgia and quiet grief. "Though we don't know the exact details, we still want to find an opportunity to see that place for ourselves—to find out what kind of threat forced that fool Andoain to lay down his life."
Even though Lemuen had suffered the most from Andoain's actions, she harbored no lingering malice toward him—only a heavy, quiet sigh for his untimely end.
"That idiot was always..." Fiammetta began instinctively, but her voice trailed off, her eyes dimming. The man was dead and buried; what was the point of venting now?
If he were still alive, she would have loved nothing more than to beat him black and blue and drag him to his knees before Lemuen and Mostima to beg for forgiveness. But against a pile of ashes, her fury had nowhere to go.
"I see..." Jeanne looked at the three of them. If they intended to test their strength against the Seaborn, their current capabilities made such a trip exceedingly dangerous.
"Don't worry, I can keep these two in check," Mostima chimed in, offering a reassuring look. With her unique channels of information, she clearly understood the true gravity of the threat. "I won't let them recklessly charge into Iberia. If they went right now, I doubt they'd make it back."
Jeanne let out a quiet breath of relief. Just then, she noticed the old Pope waving to her from across the square. Patting Fafnir gently, she excused herself and walked over.
"Haha, judging by your expression, I take it you've made up your mind?" Pope Yvangelista asked with a warm smile, observing the firm resolve replacing the hesitation in her eyes.
"Yes, my mind is made up," Jeanne replied with a clear nod. "We'll proceed according to your plan. If anything goes wrong, I will bear the responsibility."
"No. You will bear no such thing," the Pope interrupted, his smile giving way to stern authority. "This is Laterano's choice, and it is my choice. If the day comes when someone must answer for the consequences, I will stand first before the criticism and the storm, until my final breath."
His tone left no room for doubt. He was entirely serious about taking whatever blame or ruin might come.
"And Iberia will bear its share as well," Saint Carmen added, speaking with deep respect. He now fully believed this young woman possessed a power beyond ordinary mortal comprehension—a gift capable of working miracles and turning tragedy into hope.
His words came straight from the heart. Even if the entire world faced annihilation, he didn't believe the burden should fall upon the shoulders of a single young girl. "Your willingness to lend your strength is already an immense blessing."
Jeanne offered both elders a warm, gentle smile. She trusted that she could resolve the crisis when the time came, leaving the political fallout in the capable hands of the two seasoned leaders.
"Very well. As soon as I return to my chambers, I shall begin preparations for the Summit of Nations," Pope Yvangelista said, his eyes gleaming with youthful vigor. "It's been a long time since this old heart beat with such fire. I feel as though I've returned to my younger days!"
"I share your anticipation," Saint Carmen agreed. "Though I should take my leave first. Leaving the state affairs entirely to those inexperienced kids back home makes me a bit uneasy."
The Iberian Saint had no intention of lingering. The situation along the coast required his immediate presence, not only to contain the oceanic threat, but to prepare his nation for the grand summit.
Understanding his urgency, Pope Yvangelista didn't press him to stay, offering only a polite farewell after seeing that Carmen declined an invitation to rest for the night.
"Please wait a moment—let me give you a ride," Jeanne called out, stepping forward before Carmen could leave. "I've been meaning to visit the Iberian coast anyway. I've never seen the threat we're up against with my own eyes."
Carmen was taken aback by her offer. He glanced at the Pope, who merely stroked his white beard with a calm, knowing smile. Seeing no objection, the old Saint accepted.
At first, Carmen assumed they would travel by conventional transport, thinking he was simply escorting a child on a long overland journey—a minor inconvenience at best.
Only when his journey actually began did he realize how wildly he had miscalculated. Jeanne had no intention of traveling by land; she intended to take to the skies!
When Jeanne summoned two massive wyverns into existence, Carmen stared with his mouth agape, utterly speechless. In all his two hundred years of life, he had never set foot into the clouds like this.
Then, a chilling realization struck him.
If those monstrosities in the deep were to somehow consume the flesh and blood of a beast like this... what kind of horrific nightmare would they evolve into?
The mere thought sent a wave of icy dread washing over Saint Carmen—a profound fear of the potential catastrophe such creatures could bring to Terra.