Chapter 56: The Dark Age

Having been deliberately and dramatically frightened by the Saintess, Eric subconsciously felt a sense of avoidance when he returned to his annex and saw Alana waiting to welcome him.

He had no romantic designs on Sophie, but Alana—mature in every respect and better aligned with the preferences of his psychological age—would occasionally cause his instincts to take the upper hand.

"…Your Highness?"

Alana was keenly sensitive to the change in his attitude, and her own precarious situation compelled her to overthink.

"Did Her Holiness the Saintess say anything? …About me."

"No." Eric snapped out of his daze and shook his head. "The Saintess only offered a few admonitions; she harbors no opposition. I’m simply not used to having you stay in my room."

Alana, the "faithless one," no longer had a place of refuge within the Saintess's Monastery and was forced to reside in his annex—specifically in one of the several rooms originally designated for personal attendants, which happened to be even larger than her former quarters.

"I will try to remain in my own room as much as possible so as not to disturb Your Highness," Alana said, lowering her gaze.

"That would make me even less accustomed to it. Just carry on as usual," Eric waved a hand, walking further inward. "Have you been here the entire day?"

Alana followed, nodding in the affirmative. A nun's life consisted of little more than prayer and spiritual cultivation; for her, it was merely a change of scenery.

The fact that Alana had forsaken her loyalty to the Saintess to defect to Eric was known only to a few individuals directly involved within the monastery. She had no wish to offer lengthy explanations to others, so she simply chose not to show her face unless strictly necessary.

"Have you decided which of my classes you wish to teach?" Eric asked. He had just removed his coat, and Alana stepped forward to take it, hanging it up for him.

"I wish to truly be of help to Your Highness," Alana replied. "And what I am most proficient in after all these years are the administrative affairs of the Saintess's Monastery itself. Therefore, I would like to go to the Saintess's Court and learn the working procedures of the court ladies. Although in doing so..."

"Although in doing so, it matches your original plan," Eric finished for her.

Alana pressed her lips together. "Yes..."

"It's fine. I trust you." Eric smiled.

He did not believe he would spend the rest of his life confined to the monastery, but during his absences, someone had to manage the affairs here. If he needed someone trustworthy yet possessing a certain degree of capability, Alana was undoubtedly the most suitable candidate.

The operation of the Saintess's Court followed its own established procedures, which fundamentally remained unchanged regardless of changes in the Saintess herself. Alana's primary function would be to convey his genuine will.

"However, the Saintess certainly won't allow me to slack off in this matter," Eric added. "So I still need to go there in person. When that time comes, you can accompany me so the Saintess's Court becomes aware of the arrangement. Afterward, you will be free to observe and learn in my name whenever you wish."

He had thought of everything...

Alana bowed deeply, filled solely with gratitude.

"Yes, Your Highness."

The next morning, the person who came to wake Eric for classes had also changed to Alana—she had risen very early, awakened by the tolling of the monastery bells.

"There's really no need for you to wake up this early anymore," Eric yawned. "Or have you already gotten used to it?"

"I am used to it..."

Nuns were required to attend morning devotions. Although it merely involved reciting scriptures in the chant room, one had to rise at the first toll of the bell and be present in the chant room by the second toll, or face punishment.

"The Middle Ages turns people into ghosts... and turns me into a high schooler."

The quasi-Saintess muttered under his breath, washed up, ate his meal, and set off for his classes.

A short while later, Sophie was also summoned to the classroom with a bewildered expression, sitting blankly down beside Eric.

"Your Highness... I am to attend class?"

"Didn't I mention it to you yesterday?" Eric certainly wouldn't have dragged her to class without notice. When he brought it up to her the day before, she had agreed with radiant excitement.

"I thought..." Looking at the expressionless scripture-lecturing nun on the podium, Sophie's voice grew fainter, resembling the buzzing of a mosquito. "I thought you were joking..."

"It's too late for regrets now," Eric murmured quietly, rising to bow to Ymir. "This is Sophie, who is taking classes with me. Her Holiness the Saintess has granted permission."

Ymir returned the bow without a word, nodded to Sophie, and promptly began the lecture.

The latter's cheeks flushed bright red, and it took her a moment before she abruptly stood up to bow in return.

Continuing from yesterday, the lesson focused on how the vibrant, fiercely competing tribes of humanity collapsed and shattered at the first touch beneath the iron hooves of the demon race.

"Prior to the Gaia Era, in the extreme north of the continent, the demon race—born alongside humanity—had already developed tribes of their own, much like humans.

"The demon race possessed an extraordinary adaptability to harsh environments, and these severe conditions fostered an even greater internal cohesion among their tribes. Long before humanity set foot in the freezing snowfields of the northern frontier, the demon race had already risen to prominence. Of course, demons were naturally bellicose, and demons from different tribes would fight upon merely meeting...

"Due to factors such as territory and faith, numerous conflicts arose between the demons and the humans who first came into contact with them, though the scale of these conflicts remained relatively small: humans had no intention of pushing northward, while the scattered demon tribes lacked the strength to occupy the lands of the vastly more numerous humans."

Eric listened with rapt attention, the grievances of waking up early long since cast to the winds, whereas Sophie next to him was only just beginning to process the reality that she was accompanying the quasi-Saintess to class.

She glanced at Eric, whose attention was entirely focused on the scripture-lecturing nun upon the platform.

She then looked at Ymir, who glanced back while lecturing, causing Sophie to hurriedly lower her head to avoid her gaze.

Yesterday, His Highness Eric had said that if she didn't want to cultivate, she could come here to slack off... Yet, there was not the slightest opportunity to slack off here!

Sophie could not help but look at Eric again, but he was merely gazing forward.

"In the 85th year before the Gaia Era, Digot united the various demon tribes and proclaimed himself the Demon King.

"In the 79th year before the Gaia Era, the Demon King Digot led a massive army southward, directly annihilating more than a dozen human tribes such as the Karl, the Toyaba, and the Latu, and continued his advance with the intent of eradicating all of humanity.

"In the 76th year before the Gaia Era, the hero Weil united the remnants of the human tribes to resist the demon race, establishing the first human kingdom in the south of the current empire: Raisai.

"In the 72nd year before the Gaia Era, the demon army breached Raisai's largest city, Weil fell in battle, Raisai perished, and humanity—no, all living beings of the continent—entered the Dark Age ruled by the demon race."

At this point, Ymir paused, clasped her hands together, and silently began to pray.

Eric sat in solemn, heavy silence.

While the scripture-lecturing nun mourned the sacrifices made at the dawn of the Dark Age, he could foresee that a few years from now, a similar catastrophe would once again descend upon this land. In terms of casualties, it might well surpass that of a millennium or centuries past—for the scale of modern human cities was far beyond anything comparable to the tribal era.

What truly choked him with a sense of suffocation was his growing realization that even if the Saintess were to release him right now, he was powerless to stop this war.

The other end of the war was not merely a collection of powerful individual demons, but countless individuals bound together—a cruel race directing all their rage and expansionist aggression toward humanity.

After a moment of silent prayer, Ymir resumed speaking.

"In the 1st year of the Gaia Calendar, the Holy Prophet Raphael received divine revelation in the wilderness of Raisel and founded the Church with his ten disciples..."

"Wait a moment," Eric interrupted her. "From the beginning of the Dark Age to the founding of the Church, there is a span of over seventy years. Is there no record of that history?"

"There are records, Your Highness."

Ymir looked at him. "However, that period of history is far too dark, and the resistance of humanity and other races against the demon race did not truly see a dawn until the Church was founded. According to established tradition, too much of that history is not recounted, as it holds little meaning."

"Little meaning? The Church certainly knows how to..."

They certainly knew how to gild their own lilies and sing their own praises.

Eric drew in a breath. "If it truly had no meaning, that history would not have been recorded at all. Please continue the lecture; I believe in the wisdom of the sages."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Ymir nodded, turning the timeline backward.

"In the 70th year before the Gaia Calendar, the Demon King slaughtered all human tribes within the regions he had conquered and harvested their souls."