Chapter 78: Astra and the Shadow of a Statue

The central plaza of the outlying town of Verden was thick with incense smoke and the murmuring prayers of thousands of refugees.

At the center of the plaza stood a colossal marble statue, twenty meters tall, unveiled by the local government just that morning.

The statue depicted a warrior standing tall, its entire body coated in a thin layer of gold leaf shimmering under the midday sun. A pair of plaster angel wings had been bolted onto its back, spread wide, and its hand gripped a gem-studded greatsword pointing straight at the sky. Carved into the pedestal in gilded lettering: 'The Nameless Knight — Savior of Eternal Light.'

Around the base, hundreds of ragged refugees knelt on the ground. They pushed against one another, offering wilted wildflowers, their last few copper coins, and even scraps of dry bread they'd skipped breakfast to save — all in hopes of the statue granting a miracle.

Lucian stood by the wheel of a Vance trading caravan, a stack of delivery receipts in hand, looking up at the statue.

He narrowed his eyes at the cheap plaster angel wings and the gold leaf already peeling in patches under the sun, his mouth twisting slightly.

"Visually offensive."

He folded the receipts and tucked them into his coat.

In the original novel, the protagonist had been a drifter in a ragged cloak, hiding his face in shadow, never once described as having wings. But through the hands of sculptors and local officials, he'd been transformed into a radiant royal deity, fitted with angel wings for the sake of charity fundraising ceremonies.

Five steps away, Astra stood motionless amid the crowd of refugees.

She wore her ivory floral dress, hands hanging at her sides, her ash-grey eyes quietly watching the gaunt, skeletal women clutching infants, kneeling before the indifferent slab of marble.

A young mother, lips cracked from hunger, trembled as she set half a loaf of dark bread — her and her child's only food for the day — onto the pedestal, bowing and muttering through tears.

"Please, reveal yourself, my Lord... Please, raise your sword and destroy the beasts at the border, so my child doesn't have to starve..."

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Astra looked at the half loaf of bread, abandoned on the cold stone.

Sixteen years living inside the Church, she'd once sat on jeweled thrones herself, watching tens of thousands of the faithful kneel at her feet, begging for the same salvation. They poured every ounce of hope, every fragment of their will to survive, into a statue or a canonized figure — only for despair and total collapse to be the only thing waiting for them when real catastrophe finally struck.

"Miss..."

A small, timid voice spoke up near the hem of her dress.

Astra looked down.

A little girl, maybe six years old, face smudged with dirt, bare feet cracked and dry, stood shyly in front of her. The child raised her tiny hands, holding out a yellow wildflower she'd just picked by the roadside.

"Miss... that big statue of the Nameless Knight... he's going to protect us from the war, isn't he?"

Astra looked at the delicate, fragile petals in the child's hand.

She didn't glance back at Lucian. She slowly knelt down on one knee in the dust and grime of the plaza and reached out to take the little wildflower.

With her other hand, Astra gently brushed a smear of dried mud off the child's cheek, looking straight into her eyes, speaking softly, each word clear and calm.

"It's not that stone statue, sweetheart."

The child blinked in confusion. "What?"

Astra pointed toward the mother still kneeling and praying in the distance.

"That statue doesn't feel hunger, doesn't feel pain, and it's never going to step down off that pedestal to shield you from a blade. If the war ever really reaches this town, you need to hold your mother's hand as tight as you can and run."

She tucked the yellow wildflower into the girl's tangled hair and smiled.

"The person who's actually protecting you... is your mother, holding you every single day."

The child stood there for a moment, then turned to look at her thin, exhausted mother, gave a small nod, and ran off toward the fountain.

Behind her, Lucian stood with his hands in his coat pockets, watching Astra slowly rise up out of the dust.

He didn't crack a joke, didn't launch into one of his usual economic calculations.

A girl who'd once had 99.9994% of her power drained away, who'd been raised to believe she existed only to be a living sacrifice, now carried a clearer and steadier heart than any Grand Inquisitor or Pope on this entire continent.

Astra brushed the dust off the hem of her floral dress and turned back to Lucian.

"Lucian, is the cargo cleared?"

"Done," Lucian answered simply.

WHOOSH!

A messenger knight in blood-soaked iron armor charged into the plaza on horseback, reining in sharply, kicking up a storm of dust.

The knight tumbled off his horse and pinned a scroll of parchment, sealed in dark red wax, onto the announcement board mounted behind the marble statue.

'EMPIRE-WIDE EMERGENCY NOTICE!' 'The 4th Frontline Legion has been surrounded by the Void Beast horde at Broken Wind Ravine! The western defense line is at risk of total collapse!'

WHOO... WHOO... WHOO!

A monstrous horn blared from the Royal Camp stationed on the town's outskirts, an ear-splitting series of blasts.

War drums thundered down every street.

"Emergency general mobilization! All knights and mage students, assemble immediately!"