Demon King of the Royal Class-Chapter 580

After reporting to the captain of the 17th District Guards, Ludwig was assigned to protect Rowen. Since Ludwig was not officially registered as a guard, he could leave his regular guard duty without any issues.

Ludwig was tasked with the exclusive duty of escorting one of the priests dispatched for disease management. From then on, Ludwig became Rowen’s permanent escort.

Once they confirmed that the spread of the epidemic in the 17th district had been halted, they headed to the 15th district.

As Rowen had mentioned, they did not often face extreme situations.

Only twice, in fact. And even then, it wasn’t because Rowen’s identity as a priestess was uncovered—it was because they had run into robbers, and Ludwig had been forced to carry her and escape.

The first time, he had simply fled the scene, avoiding any confrontation.

The second time, they had been surrounded, but Ludwig fought them off using only his left arm and walked away unscathed.

The robbers had underestimated him, believing that a one-armed man couldn’t possibly be a threat.

And just like that, four days passed since Ludwig took on the duty of guarding Rowen.

***

During the four days of escort duty, nothing significant happened.

Since the journey was long and they had to be together all day, they naturally ended up talking about various things.

Rowen, despite having a delicate appearance, was quite a lively person.

Moreover, she did not act in a manner befitting her high status. She behaved as if formalities were almost nonexistent.

Ludwig, who was quite ignorant of such formalities, couldn’t help but feel grateful.

“It was a place called Cielan in the Kingdom of Lucephena,” said Rowen, in response to Ludwig’s question about where she had been assigned as an archbishop. “You probably haven’t heard of it. In fact, I was a bishop there, not an archbishop.”

Ludwig wasn’t intimidated or overwhelmed by the title of archbishop. He was simply curious.

“So, you became an archbishop only after the Gate Incident...?” Ludwig asked.

“The Order suffered many casualties, so someone was needed to fill the vacant positions. Therefore, I ended up taking on a role beyond my capacity,” Rowen said humbly, implying that she was appointed as an archbishop despite not being fully qualified.

“Should I have been addressing you as Archbishop then...?” Ludwig asked.

“No, just address me normally. And instead of calling me Priestess, it’s better if you just use my name,” Rowen said, winking at Ludwig.

“After all, we have to be cautious while in these places, don’t we?” she added.

It was only then that Ludwig realized addressing Rowen as “Priestess” over the past few days had been rather risky.

“Oh, I see. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s alright. Nothing significant has happened so far,” Rowen said.

She pointed to the refugee camp beyond the walls of the capital. “Let’s go. We have a lot to do today.”

“Yes, Priest—I mean, Madam Rowen.”

“You can drop the formalities. I’ll do the same, Ludwig,” Rowen said with a mischievous smile, walking ahead of Ludwig.

Rowen had once been a bishop in a city within a country that no longer existed.

She had somehow survived the triggering of the Gate Incident and everything after that, and found her way to the capital, stepping in to fill a vacant role that desperately needed to be filled.

She hadn’t originally held the title of archbishop—she had been appointed to it after the disaster. In that sense, she wasn’t like a noble who had lost her domain.

‘Did she get appointed as an archbishop while doing this work?’ Ludwig wondered, following Rowen with a puzzled expression.

It was the fourth day since Ludwig had begun accompanying Archbishop Rowen.

There were still many streets in the capital’s refugee camp that needed cleansing, and more kept appearing.

Gradually, snowflakes began to fall from the sky.

***

I remembered the group mission I had gone on in the second semester of my first year in the Temple, when I had been eliminated in a flash and had nothing left to do but sit around and wait.

That first night, I had entered the open-air bath with Ellen, with only a thin wall separating us.

She had asked me if I liked snow. Honestly, I didn’t have any particular feelings about it.

To be more precise, I never had the time to think about things like that.

Regardless, I had gone into that open-air bath while it had been snowing. There was no reason not to.

At that time, I told her that I seemed to like snow.

I didn’t have any particular feelings about snow, but in the end, I found myself liking it.

Now, I was alone in Ellen’s room in the Class A dormitory, without Ellen and Heinrich around.

I sat on the windowsill and looked out at the snow falling outside.

Snow comes in many forms—sleet, snow pellets, heavy snow, and even the blizzards that Riana can summon.

Surely, I liked the snow. I enjoyed the snow with Ellen, and one of my treasured memories was building a snowman with Harriet and Ellen.

I like heavy snow—the kind that falls thick and silent, enough to blanket the whole world.

I looked at the snow falling outside the window. Just imagining the lives that the falling snow would swallow was painful.

It wasn’t snow that was falling from the sky, but sleet. It didn’t feel like snow at all. It felt harsh and lonely, like another form of wind, so I didn’t particularly like it.

Snow that did not accumulate wasn’t snow. That was what I used to think.

I used to think that snow that didn’t accumulate on the ground wasn’t real snow.

This time, though, I felt relieved that it was just sleet.

If the snowfall was heavy, if it started to pile up, it would only bring more suffering to those already struggling.

I no longer wished for the kind of snow I once loved.

Instead, I felt comforted by the snow I used to dislike.

I hoped this snow wouldn’t accumulate—that it wouldn’t turn into heavy snowfall or a blizzard.

I looked up at the sky.

‘Should I call Riana? Should I ask her to stop the snow in the capital—not to fight monsters, but to save people?’

But if I asked her to keep the weather warm throughout the entire winter, she’d have to use her power continuously for three months.

By the time winter ended, she would have gone mad.

She was already on the edge, already losing herself while she channeled the powers that caused large-scale shifts in the weather.

Riana’s power was meant for war. It needed to be preserved.

This war was being fought to save lives. But to fight it, I had to ignore the fact that others would inevitably die.

The snow was falling.

The flakes were growing thicker.

I hated snow.

***

The sleet soon turned into heavy snow, covering the entire capital.

The only fortunate thing was that it wasn’t driven by a fierce winter wind.

“It’s snowing quite a lot,” Rowen remarked.

“That’s a big problem,” Ludwig replied.

They both sighed together.

They had just confirmed that the epidemic which had broken out in the 38th district—and which they had gone to purify the day before—had been completely eradicated.

Snow continued to fall, piling up on their robes and hoods.

Despite being exposed to the cold snow, most of the people on the streets lacked the energy to even move, and could only huddle up.

Rowen’s expression clouded over as she took in the state of the shanty huts, too poorly constructed to keep out the cold winds.

“Things might be alright if the snow stops before it gets too serious,” Rowen said.

“Surely there are many here who won’t be able to withstand the cold, right?” Ludwig asked with concern, but Rowen shook her head as if that wasn’t the issue.

“If there is a lot of snowfall, the problem won’t be the cold, but the shanties themselves collapsing. That happened a lot last winter.”

More people had died after being buried under collapsed shanties than from the cold, Rowen explained. The snow itself was dangerous, not just the cold it brought.

That was the harshness of nature.

Ludwig felt resentful about the snow that was slowly accumulating, but he didn’t know where to direct that resentment.

The two of them continued walking toward their next destination.

Most of the refugees couldn’t hide their resentment as they stared up at the sky, while some of the children, unaware of the implications, simply played about in the snow.

It seemed to Ludwig that they enjoyed it because they didn’t know any better.

“Did you like snow before the world became like this?” asked Rowen. Her question seemed too out of place, now that snow had become a symbol of death.

Ludwig stared blankly at the heavy snow falling from the sky.

“I don’t know,” he replied.

He couldn’t even remember if he liked or disliked snow.

It felt like all his past memories since before the triggering of the Gate Incident had been erased. He couldn’t recall them well, as if they had somehow become meaningless.

It was as if immense misfortune and despair had swallowed everything about him.

Just thinking about what lay ahead of him and what he could do about it was overwhelming.

Ludwig wondered if Rowen could somehow still think about the past.

“I liked it,” Rowen said, looking up at the sky.

“Lucephena was located in the northern part of the continent, and it was winter half the year. We would see snow very often,” Rowen explained.

Ludwig found it hard to imagine what a place that experienced winter for half the year would be like.

“Then... wouldn’t you end up disliking snow?” he asked.

He thought seeing snow so often would make it tiresome, which would make one dislike it.

Despite how snow seemed to convey a cosy image, it actually brought with it bitter cold. And in truth, people feared it.

“Well, just because it’s common doesn’t mean there’s a reason to dislike it, right?” Rowen replied.

“I see.”

“Lucephena was a wintry country, and Cielan in particular was located in a highland area. It was a cold place, and there was a lot of heavy snow. I was born there,” Rowen said, her gaze growing wistful as she thought of her now-vanished hometown.

“I had countless snowball fights with friends, where we played to the point of exhaustion. We made snowmen, and played with the snow until my hands were frostbitten. I got scolded for that by the priests who healed me countless times,” Rowen recalled with a bittersweet smile.

“Even after I was ordained, I got scolded quite a bit for joining in the snowball fights with the kids in the monastery. They said it was unbecoming. And when I tried to testify my faith by making a snow statue of the goddess, I got a stern reprimand from the bishop for making such a thing carelessly,” Rowen said, looking genuinely happy as she reminisced about her love for snow.

“After being promoted to bishop, I really didn’t have the chance to do such things. Well... yes. Lucephena was a cold country, but the cold wasn’t a problem. Cielan was particularly cold, but that wasn’t a problem either. The empire was vast, and thanks to the warp gates, quite a few tourists came to Cielan, the land of snow. Everything was quite beautiful,” Rowen said.

“Those were the days... It was just three years ago,” she said softly. “Even when the cold was harsh, even when the snow fell heavily—no matter how difficult life got, humans could still live anywhere.

“Looking back, I think that was humanity’s last golden age.”

She paused, then added quietly, “I don’t think those days will ever come again.”

A time when one could find beauty in snow alone.

A time when the warp gates connected the entire continent.

Just three years ago, humanity could live anywhere.

All of that was gone. Those days felt like a lie, like a dream that had never truly existed.

“Now, humanity has to tremble in fear at even a small chill compared to what anyone in Cielan would experience, and countless people will lose sleep at night if just a little snow falls from the sky.”

A diminished humanity was now threatened by the smallest of things.

In large, sturdy houses, there was no need to worry about heavy snowfall, but now, even a little snow could cause the shanties that most lived in to collapse.

In these rundown huts, without even a fireplace, any kind of wind could penetrate.

The golden age has passed, and humanity has many things to fear.

“Ludwig,” Rowen said, looking at him. “Do you dislike snow?”

Ludwig nodded slightly. “Yes... I think so.”

Rowen smiled sadly. “I feel the same way now.”

They continued to walk through the streets.

Snow fell gently, slowly beginning to pile up on the roofs of the shanties in the refugee camp.

***

Rowen and Ludwig headed to the next area that required purification, the 42nd district.

The snow had started to accumulate, and they could hear the sound of snow crunching underfoot.

After reporting to the guards in the 42nd district, they headed to the area where the epidemic was rampant.

As always, Rowen walked through the streets, offering prayers.

Ludwig rarely needed to step in, so he often wondered if his presence was even necessary for Rowen.

Of course, whenever Ludwig mentioned this, Rowen would say that just making her feel safe was enough for him to fulfill his role.

In this refugee camp, it was more important to be wary of robbers than attackers motivated by their hatred for members of the clergy.

After all, people didn’t even know Rowen was a priestess.

Ludwig kept an eye out for anything unusual, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, because of the snow, people were even more inclined to stay inside their shanties.

About three hours had passed, and the snow had now accumulated to almost ankle height.

—Drag them out!

A commotion erupted from a corner of the refugee camp.

Both Rowen, who was praying, and Ludwig, who was surveying the situation, were immediately drawn to it.

—Please, spare us! We were just...

Ludwig saw people being dragged out of a shanty, unknown ornaments hanging around their necks and arms. He immediately recognized what they were.

Although they were different from what he had seen before, wooden idols were being dragged out into the street and trampled under the guards’ feet.

—We warned you last time, if you bring in these idols again, we’ll burn them along with the corpses.

Five guards looked down at the trembling people who had been thrown onto the snowy ground in front of them. It seemed this wasn’t the first time they had been caught.

Ludwig flinched and looked at Rowen.

Rowen approached the scene with a stern expression, heading directly toward the guards who seemed ready to stab the heretics with their spears.

The guards pointed their spears at Rowen and Ludwig, signaling them not to get any closer.

“Hold on, who are you?” one of them demanded.

“I’m Priestess Rowen, dispatched for purification work. This person is my escort. We have permission from the 42nd Guards.”

Rowen took out the holy symbol hidden within her robe, and the guards lowered their weapons.

“Ah, so you’re a priestess. My apologies,” the guard replied respectfully.

“May I ask what’s going on?” Rowen’s tone wasn’t aggressive or threatening, yet the guard felt an inexplicable pressure radiating from Rowen’s calm smile. Ludwig felt the same.

“Oh... U-uh... Well...” the guard stammered.

Rowen’s smile seemed excessively gentle and warm, hardly befitting the situation. It was almost as if she were wearing a mask.

“Are they heretics?” she asked the guard.

“Yes... Yes, they are. But... they probably don’t know any better and don’t even know what they’re praying to...”

Unlike Ludwig’s harsh former superior, Sontain, the guard who seemed to be in charge almost seemed to want to defend the people they had just dragged out, now that a member of the clergy had appeared.

Rowen looked at the people trembling on the snow-covered street, then flicked her gaze silently to the shanty they had been dragged out of.

“May I go inside?”

“Y-yes! Of course...”

“Sir Ludwig,” Rowen said as she gestured to Ludwig, who was still in shock from the situation, to follow her.

“You all can come inside too,” Rowen said to the people lying on the ground.

Strictly speaking, the guards had jurisdiction over this matter, but Rowen spoke as if giving an order.

***

Five people had been praying inside a shanty in the plague-stricken area.

One adult male, two elderly, and two women.

The shanty had a low ceiling, making it hard to even stand properly, and was filled with rags and other belongings. Rowen looked around as if searching for something.

“Hmm...” In the eerie silence, Rowen seemed to be pondering something, looking at some rags and thinking deeply without speaking to anyone.

After some time, Rowen picked up a small wooden idol lying in the center of the shanty. It was a wooden piece in the rough shape of a human.

“What were you praying for?” Rowen asked gently, holding the idol and looking at the people trembling before them.

Even though priests were hated, that hatred only had power when there was a mob.

When the power of authority was dominant, their hatred and resentment had no power.

“Uh, well... For the epidemic to end... and for everything to be resolved...” said one of the elderly.

“You were praying to this wooden doll?” asked Rowen.

The people remained silent.

“What is this wooden doll?” Rowen asked the elderly person.

“What is it? Is this your god? How can this wooden doll solve the epidemic? How exactly?” Rowen asked. She seemed genuinely curious.

Her tone was warm, and she was smiling, but her demeanor instilled fear not only in the people she was questioning, but also in Ludwig.

“Please, explain to me. I genuinely do not understand how this wooden doll can do such things.”

Flash!

A golden light emanated from Rowen’s right hand.

“How do you believe it can perform such miracles? And why?”

In an instant, the golden light dispelled the cold, and the heretics felt the weakness in their bodies vanish, replaced by vitality.

Prayers to an unknown idol, contrasted with the actual miracle of healing and purification. Rowen looked at the heretics, as though demanding to know why they didn’t understand the gap between these two things.

“I’m asking you what this wooden doll is. What it represents. What do you believe in, and what are you trying to do?” Her tone was gentle all the way through, but everyone in the hut was afraid.

The elderly person continued to tremble but could not offer an answer. Someone else spoke up instead.

“The... The hero...”

“Hm?”

“It is the Hero...” said a trembling young woman, and both Ludwig’s and Rowen’s expressions hardened.

A wooden idol, carved roughly in the shape of a human... It was meant to resemble the hero, Ellen Artorius.

“The Hero will save us all...” The young woman said, trembling, and Rowen slowly nodded.

“Ah... I see.”

Rowen quietly looked at the wooden idol.

Ludwig had a foreboding feeling that a storm was brewing in Rowen’s eyes. However, after a moment of silence, Rowen gently placed the wooden idol back in the center of the room.

“Yes, the hero will save us all.”

Many heresies were rampant. However, the Hero Cult could not be considered heretical.

“Still, to avoid misunderstandings in the future, how about carving it a bit more beautifully? It’s a sculpture representing the great hero, after all,” Rowen said, smiling at the trembling heretics.

“The hero is rumored to be incredibly, incredibly beautiful, you know?” Rowen said with a faint smile as she quietly stepped out of the shanty.