“I’m almost there.” The Mercenary King paused for a breath, surveying the road ahead. At that very moment, he was making his way toward the heart of the Ferderica’s Church.0

The journey from the Mercenary Guild to Ferderica’s holy land was no short distance. Yet he was here, traveling alone and in haste, without a single subordinate in tow. This wasn’t a planned mission, nor was it something he’d had time to prepare for. It was a sudden impulse, an urgent decision.0

The reason he was heading to the holy land was simple. News had reached him that Ferderica themselves had delivered a divine revelation and seized Ketal, bringing him to the holy land. The Mercenary King owed Ketal his life. If not for Ketal, he would have been slain by a dragon. He was alive because of that man, and now he intended to repay that debt, whatever it took.0

Something is deeply wrong, he thought. How could Ketal be branded as a heretic, a sinner against the revelation? 0

Ketal possessed the strength of a Hero, a warrior who had toyed with even the mightiest dragons. Although the Mercenary King had blacked out after that, from what little he remembered and what he’d heard, Ketal had even triumphed over that monstrous woman who had appeared later. There was hardly a soul on the continent with such overwhelming strength.0

Yet now, somehow, Ketal had been condemned...0