Show Me Your Stats!-Chapter 89

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“H-High Priest!”

“What is the meaning of this commotion?”

“A Senior Elder from the main temple in Sobletz—he’s just arrived!”

At those words, Aterra’s face hardened. A Senior Elder? From the main temple in Sobletz? Until now, the only messengers from outside had been low-ranking priests or emissaries delivering words from the temple. Someone of that rank arriving was unheard of. Elders of such stature were typically far too old or powerful to risk traveling to a remote place like Solar.

But now, with the newly opened, safe tunnel...

‘I should have seen this coming.’

A feeling of bitter dismay twisted Aterra’s lips as he stared toward the entrance of the worship hall. Meanwhile, word had already begun to spread among the congregation that a Senior Elder from the main temple had arrived.

“Who’s the Senior Elder?”

“Wait—main temple? Isn’t that where the ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) Pope resides?”

For years, the only religious figure of authority known to Solar’s residents had been the High Priest. The notion of someone even higher ranked than that—vague whispers of a pope somewhere out there—was distant and abstract. So when the native worshippers began murmuring in confusion, the more worldly outsiders from beyond Solar were quick to explain.

They eagerly chattered about how important the Senior Elder was, about the grandeur of the Sobletz Temple. When some locals wondered aloud how anyone could travel to Solar now that winter had begun, they excitedly talked about the newly opened cave route.

To the citizens of Solar—long isolated and trapped in their own repetitive lives—the arrival of a Senior Elder from the main temple was thrilling and entirely novel. And of course, all of them were devout followers of Morunka.

The hall, which had been buzzing with voices, gradually fell silent again. Chaeeng, chaaeng... A clear, delicate chime rang out—and from the far end of the worship hall, a procession began to appear. The worshippers quickly parted to either side.

All stood on tiptoe, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of this legendary procession.

“There... that’s the Senior Elder, from the main temple...”

Someone whispered in awe.

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The first impression of the procession was overwhelming whiteness. Everyone in the line was clad in pure white ceremonial robes—garments typically reserved only for high priests in Solar. The fabric shimmered, luxuriously crafted from Sobletz’s finest silks. The sleeves were wide and graceful, trailing elegantly.

Over the snow-like robes, silver ornaments sparkled and chimed softly with every step, dazzling the eyes of the people. It looked like a divine parade straight out of legend.

But what emphasized their sacredness even more were the white veils—soft gauze that floated down from their hoods and covered their faces to the bridge of the nose. Beneath the robes, long, well-groomed hair was elegantly adorned with tiny pearls, each no larger than a snowflake. It was the very image of opulence.

Behind the Senior Elder, a soft divine glow shimmered faintly. A young priest, tied with three crimson cords at the waist, flitted after him like a little bird, carefully straightening the Elder’s long hem.

Following them were two priests—one holding three red flowers, the other a silver bell—which rang in turn as they walked: Chaeeng—chaeeng—

And the procession did not end there. Behind them came more figures: those dressed in magnificent white believer’s garments, knights in silver armor, dignitaries in splendid clothes, and attendants trailing behind them.

Those who recognized the Senior Elder’s face from past services began to chant:

“Senior Elder! Senior Elder!”

“To think we get to see him—this close!”

“Do you recognize me, Elder? I attended every service in Sobletz!”

“Senior Elder, over here! Please look this way!”

The outer-region worshippers cheered with intense fervor, and the native residents, caught up in the enthusiasm, stared at the Elder in awe. Meanwhile, Aterra, trying to suppress his expression, clenched his jaw—his teeth grinding audibly.

He slowly stepped aside, yielding the pulpit. The Senior Elder climbed the platform Aterra had occupied just moments ago.

And then—someone else stepped up beside the Elder.

Aterra, who had respectfully bowed his head just moments ago, now looked up—and locked eyes with them. His brows shot up in disbelief. The veil only covered half the newcomer’s face, but the person standing beside the Elder, looking down at him, was unmistakably Solar’s young lord.

Through the semi-transparent white veil, Ayra smiled leisurely—deliberately—making it clear that this entire affair had been orchestrated by her. Aterra’s face twisted grotesquely in rage.

After completing the tunnel route, Ayra had returned to Solar and resumed her grueling daily schedule. Even amid the chaos, she had continued corresponding with Dalrok Logia. Over time, she came to understand the secret desires that the Elder harbored.

Dalrok, despite supporting his brother—the Pope—could not help but envy him.

And in that regard, Solar’s young lord was the perfect means for Dalrok Logia to indulge that envy.

Ayra had no intention of squandering the life debt Dalrok owed her. Her earlier request to him had also been mutually beneficial—she had opened a trade route for Solar’s sacred stone, creating a new stream of revenue for the temple. All the credit, of course, went to the Senior Elder.

Ayra subtly hinted to Dalrok that she wished to move beyond a simple benefactor-beneficiary relationship, into one of strategic cooperation. Each letter exchanged had gradually built up something resembling friendship.

And so, when her approval ratings plummeted, Ayra decided it was time to collect.

Late one night, she penned a long, sincere letter to Dalrok Logia.

...I am currently preparing a gift for the main temple.

It’s a massive white bas-relief, suited to be mounted on the wall of the sanctuary. At the highest point, Morunka is engraved...

Surrounding Morunka are many divine messengers—and whether by chance or divine will, the one to the far right bears an uncanny resemblance to you, Elder.

I believe you’ll be most pleased to see it in person. I hope you can be present on the day this beautiful work is unveiled. I will send another letter when the time comes.

Additionally, Elder, I must humbly request your aid.

Lately, many troubling events have occurred in Solar, and I am in need of your help.

Just as I once saved your life, I ask that you now assist me in my own time of need...

Ayra didn’t make any unreasonable demands. While gently invoking the debt, she emphasized that Dalrok could also benefit from this opportunity.

The Elder’s reply came swiftly—and with enthusiastic agreement. The request was not difficult, and he had been especially charmed by the bas-relief.

After sending the letter, Ayra waited patiently.

To use the card that was Dalrok Logia most effectively, she needed time—time for a sufficient number of outer-region worshippers to enter Solar via the cave route. Time for Wolf’s parents to spread word of her kindness, and for Aterra’s slanderous rumors to ferment, painting the lord as an unholy heretic.

Once all those conditions were in place—and once Janus had departed for Bolni—Ayra sent the letter declaring the bas-relief complete.

Dalrok, who had been waiting for that exact moment, departed immediately and arrived in Solar during the deep night, in absolute secrecy.

As a veteran of the political games within the central temple, the Elder immediately understood what Ayra wanted from him. After exchanging warm greetings, he set about meticulously preparing for the next day’s grand procession.

Just as Solar harbored lofty ideals about the main temple, Sobletz’s believers held romanticized fantasies about the sacred land of Solar. And now, with a safe path open, many wealthy followers were eager to accompany the Elder on what they saw as a holy pilgrimage.

Following the Elder’s lead, they adorned themselves with their finest. And being a port city, Sobletz’s wealth far outstripped that of Solar, which made the difference in luxury even more glaring.

As the dazzling parade stunned the people of Solar, Ayra couldn’t help but feel a little bitter.

‘Once we get through this crisis, I really need to start developing this territory...’

With that thought, she stood quietly beside Dalrok Logia, her face covered with a thicker veil than most—hiding all but her eyes. The other Sobletz worshippers were also veiled in luxury, so her attire didn’t stand out.

Yet Aterra te Act, who stood nearby, recognized her instantly.

His eyes widened, sharp and accusing, but Ayra just offered him a slow, relaxed smile—one that clearly said:

Today, I’m going to destroy you completely.

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