Reincarnated User Manual

Chapter 321: Lucerne (2)

The capital of Lucerne, Ern.

From above, it always struck me as an incredibly white city. As if obsessively selecting only white stone, the buildings were flawless white, and even the dirt on the ground seemed pale.

In this overwhelmingly white world, the only things with color were the people walking its streets.

Lucerne’s citizens, clad in black and white garments, wore rosaries gleaming with metallic luster around their necks. Even so, the subdued monochromatic scheme gave only an impression of plainness.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been here, but… what can I say? It’s a hard city to feel attached to.”

Seira murmured her thoughts as soon as she stepped off the dock.

Ten years ago, she had felt the same when she came here following Shiron. This city was too desolate for human life. Back then, having come from Nightrail, she thought it might have been the contrast, but now, even after all these years, her impression remained unchanged. It solidified her belief that the city’s aesthetics were the issue.

“Isn’t it magnificent?”

Contrary to Seira’s negative impression, Deviale, who had volunteered as their guide, was overwhelmed with emotion.

“…It’s beautiful, I suppose.”

“I’m glad Lady Lucia feels that way.”

“But isn’t it too dazzling? In the height of summer or at noon, wouldn’t it be hard to walk around with the glare?”

“Yes, exactly!”

Deviale exclaimed cheerfully, almost excessively so. Without his cardinal’s title, one might mistake him for a guide trying to earn a tip.

“At noon, the light is so blinding that tears well up involuntarily. Some people even sit down and close their eyes on the spot.”

“…Excuse me?”

“During those thirty minutes from noon, people pray right where they are. When the sun is at its zenith, everyone in the streets closes their eyes and prays. It’s a breathtaking sight.”

What kind of nonsense was that? Lucia thought, and Yoru, overhearing, seemed to share her sentiment.

“So, do we also have to pray during that time?”

“Haha, while it’s encouraged, you’re not obligated to. Lucerne may seem like a theocracy, but praying is more about receiving sanctity than obligation.”

“Sanctity?”

“…Lucerne’s citizens are perhaps the thirstiest for proof of God’s existence.”

For a moment, Deviale’s expression darkened. Lucia tilted her head in curiosity at his sudden shift in tone.

“God’s existence?”

“Everyone here has their reasons for clinging to God.”

It wasn’t Deviale who answered, but Shiron. Watching the people, his face unconsciously tightened.

Faith as an escape.

On the surface, the people’s expressions seemed varied enough to suggest a normal life, but they barely maintained their humanity, like castles made of sand.

Latera quietly examined their souls.

A faint, thin light covered filthy stains beneath. The filth represented memories they wished to forget, while the light was the veil gained through prayer and acts of faith.

“Brother Shiron is correct. For them, faith is a lifeline, something they cannot do without.”

Deviale chose his words carefully, giving a hearty laugh, but Latera noted the lingering impurities on his soul.

“It’s no wonder this city’s aesthetics lack humanity as well.”

After leaving the dock and walking further, the reason became clear.

A faint yet undeniable sanctity lingered.

“Have you ever witnessed a miracle?”

“That depends on how you define a miracle.”

“Of course, I consider Brother Shiron himself a miracle. But miracles are always present around us in some form.”

Deviale smiled warmly.@@novelbin@@

“The capital of Lucerne, Ern, was once a small rural village. Gradually, it became a haven for those afflicted with spiritual ailments.”

“Are you saying miracles isolated the lunatics?”

Smack!

Yoru yelped as a hand smacked the back of her head. Lucia forced her to bow as she apologized to Deviale.

“She says the darndest things! My apologies, Cardinal. Please, continue.”

“…Ahem. In short, God transformed the entire village into a pure white haven. Prayer, previously unknown there, became a norm.”

“A founding myth of Lucerne.”

“Indeed, as Brother Shiron said. That village grew into the Lucerne we see today.”

“…”

Lucia recalled the events of 500 years ago. Back then, many priests led healing rituals through faith, but she had never heard of a country named Lucerne.

Perhaps in the deserts of Daviard? No, Brahham in Daviard was established after Kyrie’s death, so it’s not comparable.

Still, the people of Brahham seemed much happier. This place felt different somehow.

Was it because these people were descendants of the mentally ill?

Lucia thought back to her academy lessons. There was a course on inherited traits, which covered not only mana aptitude and intelligence for magic but also the potential inheritance of mental illnesses from parents.

While infants didn’t develop mental illnesses at birth, they might be more susceptible under hardship.

As such thoughts swirled, Lucia watched Deviale intently.

“Cardinal, are you originally from Lucerne?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.”

“…No, I’m not from Lucerne. I’m from an unnamed rural village in the western continent.”

“The west? Isn’t Brahham in Daviard located there? You’ve come quite a long way to study in Lucerne.”

“Haha, that too was thanks to a miracle.”

“A miracle?”

[A miracle?]

Latera’s eyes widened. For a brief moment, Deviale’s soul emitted a strong sense of denial.

“I was born a slave. My village was burned down by cultists…”

Smack!

Shiron’s fist landed on Lucia’s head. Startled by her blunder, she quickly bowed deeply.

“I’m sorry!”

“…It’s fine. In the end, I was taken in by passing holy knights, which brought me to Lucerne.”

“My apologies again…”

“I told you, there’s no need. Thanks to that, I could rise to the rank of cardinal and meet Brother Shiron.”

Deviale gazed at Shiron with a deep, meaningful look.

A shiver ran down Shiron’s spine as goosebumps prickled his arms. Tightening his stance, he spoke with a grimace.

“Let’s skip the dark stories and get moving.”

“Ah, how forgetful of me.”

Deviale clapped his forehead and resumed leading the group. The lingering stains on his soul vanished without a trace.

The group finally arrived at a grand plaza.

The Plaza of Light.

An awe-inspiring sight no matter how many times one sees it. White spires pierced the azure sky, and statues of angels holding torches or swords radiated majesty.

At the center stood the entrance to the Grand Cathedral.

It was obvious at a glance that this was an important place. From the intense energy emanating within the building to the strict guards stationed at the entrance, everything spoke of its significance.

“What will you do now? Will you enter with me?”

“Hmm. I am curious about what kind of scheme has gathered so many people here.”

“Haha. So it’s not just about the shield return, is it?”

When Shiron replied playfully, Deviale chuckled in response.

While Shiron’s remark implied he would create chaos if anything unusual occurred, Deviale’s heart had already shifted. Though he had devoted his life to Lucerne, he felt closer to Shiron.

“Greetings. I am Shiron Prient.”

In the nave of the Grand Cathedral, Shiron bowed slightly without looking at the gathered faces.

As expected, many cardinals were assembled inside.

It seemed a formal summons had been issued. Twelve chairs were occupied by cardinals, excluding Deviale.

“Deviale, please take your seat here.”

The voice came from above the cardinals, spoken by the figure presiding over Lucerne’s Twelve Cardinals.

“Yes, Your Holiness.”

Deviale wished to remain by Shiron’s side, but duty required separation. Especially since Shiron’s identity as a Hero had to remain secret, Deviale’s reluctance only grew with each step.

The Holy Pope was an elf.

Lucia, ready to draw her sword at any moment, scanned the assembly.

And many of the cardinals had pointed ears too.

They weren’t pure elves—likely mixed-blood descendants. Among the faces, she recognized one.

Cardinal Iris Cardiore.

Though her ears weren’t as pointed as the Pope’s, they were noticeable. Pure mana wasn’t present in her aura; instead, she exuded only holy light.

“It’s been a while, Priest Shiron.”

A calm, soothing voice rang out.

Diego Rio Kali.

The Holy Pope of Lucerne smiled warmly at Shiron.

“It has been a while, Your Holiness. I have come to return [Hesed’s Shield].”

Shiron produced the shield, worn and weathered, from his belongings. As he approached the Holy Pope, the cardinals watched him intently.

Half displayed hostility, three were neutral, and the rest were favorable.

But Shiron paid no mind. He walked confidently, unconcerned by their scrutiny.

“Thank you for allowing me to use it all this time.”

He placed Hesed’s Shield gently at the Pope’s feet. The Pope clicked his tongue in apparent regret.

“I wish I could let you keep it longer, but the management of holy relics is not mine to decide alone.”

His tone was genuinely regretful, making Shiron tilt his head slightly in puzzlement.

“Is that so?”

“Indeed. As you know, the matter of recalling Hesed’s Shield was raised during the Cardinals’ meeting. With Cardinal Deviale absent, the majority voted for its retrieval.”

“…Why mention this now?”

“Because I believe you can change their minds, Brother Shiron.”

How, exactly?

Shiron didn’t bother asking such a foolish question.

“…This wasn’t what I planned to do here.”

Instead, he let out a hearty laugh, one that bordered on disrespectful for a priest. Even so, none of the twelve cardinals reprimanded him. They had been forewarned by the Pope and were here only to witness the truth with their own eyes.

“Just this once. So, don’t go blabbering about it elsewhere.”

Shiron, his face slightly flushed, drew a sword from his side.

[Holy Sword]

A radiant holy aura pierced the ground as he planted the blade before them.

“Is this enough? I am the Hero.”

“Ah… this is it!”

Lucia’s face lit up with excitement, only to be followed by immediate regret.

“I should have done something like that!”

Shiron truly understood the art of flair.