"Do you have many question to ask?" The Man 'before me' glanced back and ask.
"Um, yes, your grace. I was wondering the size of the city."
He tilted his head toward the heavens, as if ascertaining the necessity of such information, a chuckle escaping his lips.
"Ah, ho ho... I can't help but wonder if our candidate is calculating the requisite personnel for raid of the city....
Well, if you are curious, it takes roughly 3 hour from the edge of the city to the heart, if you walk moderately... As for the size, I'm not quite sure." He answered.
"I see." I calculate the dimension of the city in my head, and roughly, the circumference is about 100 kilometers. Approximately.
That's an absolute behemoth of a city!
Considering the medieval era, where large cities typically spanned only 6 to 7 kilometers in diameter at most, it's astonishing to fathom the scale of this place.
Holy Fuck!
Though, on second thought, this city has been standing for as long as the new era has, regardless it's still huge.
"You must have many questions," the Archbishop spoke, I don't actually. That seemed to me like that was more of a suggestion than an inquiry.
But, I ask. "Yes, I'm very curious about the state of the Holy sword, and the new Four as well."
The Archbishop nodded thoughtfully, his gaze distant for a moment, as if he were sifting through the memory of thousands of years, or even more.
"Indeed, you are the Candidate, after all. The holy swords have waited for worthy hands for centuries.
I certainly believed you managed to wield it," His tone was very melancholic for a moment.
Sir Roderic, walking a few paces behind, couldn't help but interject, his tone respectful yet tinged with skepticism towards myself.
"Forgive me, Your Grace, for being presumptuous, but the boy is... not exactly the poster child for strength," the knights who could heard his comment chuckled, while the man's tone drip with condescension.
"The knights, including myself have seen little evidence of his potential. If he somehow manages to pull it out, wouldn't it be a stroke of genius to hand it off to one of the other candidates instead, or someone else could also try it?"
Ah, Right, I almost forgot, this guy dislike me. And he is stupid most of all.
The holy sword in the hand of the unworthy would just be like Thor's hammer.
Honestly, I wished for the holy sword of this world to have a myth like "it ignite with divine flames if the unworthy tries to wielded it," just to watch his smug ass reduced to ashes.
If only that, I'd happily handed it to him personally, just so I could see him squirm under the heat of his own arrogance.
The archbishop paused, his blank gaze shifting to the knight commander, and frowned.
I almost could not help but smile. Well? Who wouldn't be happy watching someone gets annoyed in your place?
"Potential is often hidden in the most unlikely of places, Sir Roderic. The divine finds strength in the meek to humble the mighty."
I cast a smug glance at Sir Roderic, in an angle where the archbishop's could not see.
Sir Roderic stared me down, eyes burning with a severity that felt more like a passion.
With mock sincerity, I addressed the archbishop.
"I may not be strong, I also understand that I may not be grand like the others. But I have always tried my best, and I will always, certainly, try my very best, always. That was what I thought, what I promised myself."
I deliberately let my tone down, "But nobody has trusted me till now. They never acknowledge me; not even my countrymen. I was close to giving up many times..." I let my voice trail off, leaving the rest to his imagination.
The archbishop's eyes flicked to the knight commander, it was a sharp reprimanding gaze.
Then, as if flipping a switch, his gaze softened as it turned to me.
His expression shifted from irritation to something resembling genuine pity.
"Do not let their doubts dim your light, young Hero," he said, his voice now imbued with an unexpected warmth.
He emphasized the "Hero" part.
"You possess a spirit that cannot be easily extinguished. In time, those who scorn you today may come to recognize the strength that lies within you."
He leaned in slightly, as if sharing a particularly joyful secret. "Trust in yourself, for sometimes the greatest battles are fought not with sword, spear, nor with shield.
Just with the heart and conviction they had, with the desire to stand tall, and the willingness to push through. Most of all with faith."
He paused for a moment and touched his chest, where the faint silhouette of a small, palm sized book hinted at its presence—perhaps a gospel?
"At least I've always had."
The Archbishop leaned even closer, touching my hair with his ragged, bony fingers.
His eyes glimmered with a mix of compassion and the complex depth I could not quite fathom.
"You see, young Hero, strength is not solely measured by might or accolades," he continued, removing his hand before balling it into a fist.
He lightly jabbed it toward my heart, or at least the place where I assumed it resided, as if to emphasized his words, maybe fearing it might not reached it.
"It's forged with the fires of perseverance and the courage to rise again when you failed, over, over, and over again, till your narrative have become a comedy. That is my philosophy. "
He stop again and chuckled to himself, though he certainely did smiled, it appear so terribly lonely for some reason.
"Remember, even the greatest legends began as underdogs, overlooked, frowned upon, ignored and underestimated.
Some people are not even allowed to label themselves as such a grand title, so, even for them, stood proudly, with confidence, even if you have none.
For it is in those moments of struggle that true valor is born, or perhaps that's too grand of a term?
Regardless, have faith and never bow down, for it may lead you to a greatness you cannot yet envision."
His voice softened even more, as if to hide his crawly voice, almost conspiratorial.
"And never forget, the path to becoming a hero is often paved with the skepticism of those who cannot see the potential within you.
But even so, convincing the people who does not believed you, and re affirming those who does, that is also the job of a true hero, so, Embrace it, all of it, and let it fuel your determination." He paused for a bit.
"Perhaps you may not believe me, as I am not worthy, but even if that is the case, remember, young Hero," he ended his sentence softly.
He moved the hand that rested upon my head again, "The path you have may be challenging, perhaps you would wish to drop everything, and turn away from what you initially desired, you may even have the desire to burn down all of them.
But remember, there are countless people who may need to believe in you, those beautiful, fragile lives... they are entrusted in your hand, their future and everything else, those people whom you may not even met yet.
I believe, with determination, and the support of those around you, you may prove yourself worthy."
Though the pep talks started because of my trolling, I'm genuinely thankful for the trust he has in me.
Given his character, he would have been profoundly disappointed if he knew the choices I had made in the game.
And, even though the message did not resonate with the one he intended to reach, I will try to follow it the best I could.
"Thank you, Your Grace. I will do my best."
Lifting his hand, he placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, a gesture that felt light but resonated with a comforting energy.
"That is all I... We can ask for... Really—Now, let us proceed." He walked pass me.
Then Lily, the heroine with dark-silver coloured hair trudge toward me and leaned in close, she whisper, "Do you think that guy was gay?"
What the fuck did you just utter? I look at her in pure horror.
"Well he was all touchy with you."
WHAT THE? He was an... you stupid sod!
"If he was, he would not be able to wield divine power," Your delusion is too disgusting, I'd like to add but, "So, quite the opposite,"
"Heeh!..." She exclaimed looking at the back of the Archbishop with interest.