Due to the Roman split, the Cardinal Archbishop under the Patriarchate of Constantinople became the leader of the Eastern Roman Church. However, differing doctrinal views gradually led the two sides toward schism. Over twenty years of division was enough to reshape an entire generation's beliefs.
Even so, after the schism, relatively few adherents chose to remain on the Eastern Roman side. As a result, grassroots church personnel in the East had been in short supply, and they could only slowly train replacements.
The Cardinal Archbishop chose a small chapel by the harbor to meet with the Princess—likely to avoid arousing suspicion among the Dead Apostles and to show sincerity.
"Oh right, Princess—if you're thinking of moving out of Rome's reach, I can take you to a place. But only on the condition that it stays the way things are now."
Avia, walking beside the black-haired girl, spoke without hesitation.
The place he referred to was, in fact, the Hunnic tribes. At the time, the Eastern European region where the Huns resided was still fractured and ununified. Due to the prejudice of Western Rome toward the Huns, the mystic creatures there had grown unchecked.
The silver-haired youth had made up his mind—if they were to crush the Church corrupted for centuries by Mabel Kiara, then one scourge of God was not enough—they would need another.
Attila had failed to destroy the Western Roman Empire. He would finish the task alongside him.
But before that, he would need to unify the Huns—years in advance.
At Avia's words, Aerteluki shot him a meaningful glance—but the look quickly vanished.
"So, what's the price?"
"Help me with something. We can even sign a contract to guarantee both sides."
At this, the crimson-eyed girl cast him a glance and replied in a flat tone matching her gaze, "Is that so?"
The white magical hound on her shoulder tilted its head and softly barked, "Fou... Fou."
A lighthearted sound, as if saying, "There's no way my great master would ever make a contract with a human."
But the very next second, Aerteluki gave Fou a frosty glare, causing the creature to shudder once more.
And so, the two and the hound continued toward the church. The chapel walls bore a pale grey hue, blending into the natural surroundings. Its roof, constructed from timber, was thickly thatched, giving the place a warm and homely feeling.
At its entrance stood several figures—two of them were the tall silhouettes of the Princess's Black and White Knights, while the others were likely church members.
Aerteluki simply nodded at her knights, and the two obediently stepped aside, not questioning Avia's presence beside her.
Inside the church, soft, warm light filtered through the windows, casting dappled patterns that slowly shifted across the room, creating a mystical, solemn atmosphere that invited inner peace.
Before the pair stood an old man and a calm-looking middle-aged man.
"So the Princess has arrived... oh? And that one beside her—is he even human...?"
"A man consorting with Dead Apostles..."
The calm man's voice carried a hint of menace.
"Augustine, mind your tone and attitude."
The elder rebuked, and with those words, the man softened his demeanor.
"No need for introductions," Aerteluki said, taking a seat opposite them. "What do you want from me, Bishop Jerome?"
"Before entering that labyrinth years ago, Lord Kaubak told me—if I ever met Her Highness the Princess, I should pass along a message," the old man said kindly. "As an elder among Dead Apostles, his labyrinth is always open to you."
Kaubak, once hunted for losing the sacred scripture Tractatus Taletinus to Mabel Kiara, had retreated to the labyrinth he built—a dimensionally distorted maze nearly impossible to enter with the passage of time.
"That's all. Your Highness may leave Eastern Rome with your knights and royal guard. I hope you never appear before us again."
Bishop Jerome's blunt dismissal came swiftly. Understandable—churchmen might have disagreements with the main church, but they still disliked Dead Apostles.
As for why he told Aerteluki personally—it was likely Kaubak's insistence.
Avia thought silently but had already begun to realize who these two Eastern Roman clergy truly were.
Jerome—one of the four Western Church's Saint Scholars. He translated the Hebrew Old Testament and the Greek New Testament into Latin, earning renown as one of the greatest scholars in early Western Christianity. Technically, he should have been the rector in Bethlehem, Jesus's birthplace—yet here he was, Cardinal Archbishop of Constantinople.
As for Augustine—he was almost certainly the famed Doctor of Grace. Avia couldn't help but feel a little awkward. Back in the 1st century AD, some of his own preachings had unknowingly echoed this man's future teachings…
Much like Jerome, his life path had clearly diverged. After all, historically, he only converted near the end of his life.
"...I understand."
The Princess answered with her usual cold voice, not even looking back as she left. But her tone lacked its usual force.
"Augustine, Jerome—my name is Avia. Until we meet again."
Avia smiled and introduced himself to the two men before following her out.
"Just as Lord Kaubak said... not easy to persuade."
When the church was empty again, Jerome muttered softly.
Back when Kaubak first visited, Jerome had asked him why he didn't deliver the message himself.
Kaubak's answer was:
"She rejected me without hesitation. Back then, this was her reply—"
"Running away doesn't change anything, does it? If I'm the only one who can do this, then I must face it head-on. As the sole heir, I bear this responsibility. Even if it puts me in danger—I will do what must be done. I will not run."
Perhaps it was that very resolve that made even the Black and White Knights and the Royal Guard choose to follow their Princess into exile.
"Lord Jerome, we've known where those Dead Apostles have been hiding for a while now. Why wait until today?"
Augustine asked from the side.
"They haven't caused random slaughter from bloodsucking. If they're just living quietly, then it's tolerable. After all, even if we deny their existence, they still exist before our eyes."
"Then why act now?"
Jerome sighed. "Some things can be ignored while hidden. But once exposed—action becomes necessary."
In other words, if that Dead Apostle guard hadn't exposed himself under strange circumstances, they wouldn't have been expelled from Eastern Rome.
"By the way, what's your impression of that Avia, Augustine?"
Jerome turned, intrigued, toward the young man clutching his Bible and prayer book.
"That Avia... I don't know why, but I find myself inexplicably drawn to him. It's a shame he's siding with the Dead Apostles. Even though it's his choice... If only Lord Novia were still alive—he could surely convince him to join the Church."
Augustine held an odd fascination with the legendary Pope Novia—believing they would have been kindred spirits if they'd ever met.
"Haha, well, keep working hard. You're still far from reaching his level."
---
In the corridor outside the church, Avia walked silently beside Aerteluki.
With his keen observational skills, he had naturally noticed the slight dimming in the black-haired girl's crimson eyes.
From that, he could tell—she couldn't fully ignore what the humans had said.
Because they had a point. In time, the Dead Apostles would inevitably face extinction.
"That thing you mentioned earlier—I'll do it. Where's this place you're talking about?"
Aerteluki stopped and fixed Avia with her slightly dulled blood-red eyes.
"In that case, gather your people. We're heading north."