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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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The color of the church was pure white, unblemished by any other hue.
It symbolized the devout faith and pure hearts of its followers, who wore rosaries as a sign of their devotion.
They didn’t actively proselytize. The Goddess preferred voluntary faith.
Yet, their influence within the empire was undeniable, largely due to the tangible evidence of the Goddess’s existence they possessed.
Holy Power.
The power to channel divine energy, performing miracles and bestowing blessings.
As they traveled the land, healing the sick and injured, it became increasingly difficult for people not to believe.
The church’s influence grew, effectively monopolizing the supply of priests, making them indispensable to the imperial family. Priests were a valuable resource, after all.
And at the pinnacle of this hierarchy stood one man.
The Pope.
The bishop of the church, the highest authority.
The adoptive father of the Saint, the one the Goddess favored so highly.
He might appear as a kindly old man, but he was the leader of a powerful faction.
He possessed immense holy power, second only to the Saint in his closeness to the Goddess.
And I was here, at the heart of the church, to meet him.
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‘Young Master! Where are you going again?! Every time you leave—’
‘I’m sorry, Ella. I’ll be back soon.’
‘Y… Young Master!’
I left Ella’s nagging behind and hurried to the church, accompanied by the Saint.
We walked in silence, and soon, the towering structure of the church came into view.
“Halt!”
“Non-believers are not permitted entry.”
“You must announce your arrival in advance.”
The church resembled a grand temple, its facade adorned with perfectly symmetrical statues lining the steps.
As we approached the main entrance, silver-armored knights crossed their spears, blocking our path. Crosses were emblazoned on their breastplates and shields, leaving no doubt about their allegiance.
Their stern expressions and imposing presence conveyed their unwavering resolve to deny me entry. But the atmosphere shifted abruptly.
“We’ve come to see the Pope. Would you open the gates?”
“Huh…? S-Saint?!”
“O-Open the gates immediately!”
The Saint, who’d been standing quietly behind me, stepped forward, and the gates, which had seemed impenetrable moments before, swung open effortlessly.
Her influence within the church was undeniable.
“What are you waiting for? Aren’t you coming?”
“…Right.”
The interior was as grand as the exterior.
A long nave led towards a magnificent circular dome, reminiscent of Western architecture, which hadn’t been visible from the outside.
Golden accents adorned the white pillars, reflecting the light streaming through the oculus in the dome, illuminating the vast space.
Statues of the Goddess were placed throughout the interior. It would have been a truly beautiful place, if not for Her omnipresence.
“…You know, if you keep reacting like you’ve never seen this before…”
“I haven’t.”
“What? Weren’t you a noble?”
Her surprise was understandable. Most nobles visited the church at least once during their childhood. Not out of piety, but to receive blessings from the priests—blessings that supposedly enhanced natural healing abilities.
They weren’t essential, but they were beneficial, and visiting the church was also a way to maintain good relations. It had become a customary practice among the nobility.
The church, of course, accepted donations in exchange for these blessings, but the cost wasn’t prohibitive for noble families.
But I’d never been here.
“You’ve never been to the church—”
“I was a bastard son. They probably didn’t want to waste the money.”
“…I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, Saint.”
“…You might get into trouble for saying that…”
I didn’t quite catch her last words, but I didn’t care.
An awkward silence descended between us, both of us wishing we could just arrive already.
The silence didn’t last long. Church members recognized the Saint and approached her.
“Ah, Saint! Where are you headed?”
“Hello, Sister. We’re going to see the Pope…”
A middle-aged nun, her face serene.
“Well, if it isn’t the Saint! Haha.”
“Hello, Sir William.”
“Haha, you remember my name? I’m honored.”
A sturdy knight, a silver sword strapped to his back, clad in simple armor.
“Saint, it’s been a while.”
“Pastor Tom… perhaps you should refrain from drinking until later?”
“Ah, you noticed? Haha…”
A middle-aged man in black priestly robes, his face flushed, clearly intoxicated.
Surprisingly, many people approached her casually. I’d expected them to be more reserved, more intimidated by her status.
She seemed to notice my surprise.
“I grew up in the church. I know most people here.”
“I see.”
“And, though I shouldn’t brag, I’m quite friendly… Not many people here dislike me.”
As we chatted, we arrived at the council chamber. A massive, ornate door, fit for a king, opened before us.
Light flooded in, followed by an overwhelming wave of holy power. And at the far end of the room, a statue of the Goddess.
I frowned at the sight of the statue, the holy power washing over me, but the sheer intensity of it was undeniable.
A man stood alone on a dais in the center of the room.
He looked like a kindly old man, but I knew better. He radiated an immense amount of holy power, controlling the energy that filled the room.
Bishops stood flanking the dais, their expressions solemn.
It felt like a scene from a historical drama. I stood frozen, momentarily speechless, but the Saint walked forward confidently.
“Saint Hildegarde greets the Pope.”
“…”
I hurried after her, but I knew nothing of church etiquette. I couldn’t mimic her graceful bow.
I stood awkwardly, and one of the portly bishops glared at me.
“Show respect in the presence of the Pope!”
His accusation sparked whispers throughout the room.
“Such disrespect… Is he really the one…?”
“He certainly lacks decorum…”
“I heard at the academy…”
The quiet room filled with murmurs. The portly bishop approached the Pope, eager to press his point.
“Your Holiness, with all due respect, this person lacks basic etiquette. How could She possibly favor such a—”
“Silence, Bishop Rignil.”
The Pope’s voice, sharp and cold, cut through the murmurs, startling everyone into silence.
“Are you questioning Her judgment? Are you implying that you, a mere mortal, know better?”
“N-No… Your Holiness…”
“Or perhaps you believe you can now interpret Her divine will?”
“N-Never, Your Holiness!”
“Then be silent. Judge him after you’ve observed him.”
His single command silenced the room. His voice returned to its previous solemn tone.
“My apologies for the interruption. Shall we proceed?”
“…Thank you.”
“Hmm. Would you show me the mark?”
I pushed my hair back, revealing the chalice symbol on my forehead. Gasps echoed through the room.
Even the Pope’s composure faltered, his eyes widening in surprise.
“…Examine it.”
“Y-Yes, Your Holiness!”
Several nuns approached me, carefully observing the mark, some even touching it gently.
“It… It’s real…!”
“It’s undoubtedly the Goddess’s mark! And Her holy power!”
Their cries echoed through the chamber, reigniting the murmurs.
“It’s… real?!”
“The… Goddess… chose him…?”
The Pope slammed a gavel, crafted from pure holy power, onto the dais.
–Bang!
The dais shattered, silencing the crowd once again. He remained unfazed, his expression calm, though the earlier warmth had returned to his eyes.
“Everyone, please calm down. The mark is authentic.”
“…”
“Young Jenison? My apologies, but would you mind staying here for a day? We need to make some preparations.”
“Preparations for what…?”
“We have… matters to attend to. Please understand. Afterwards, you may ask any questions you wish.”
“…Very well.”
“Then we must arrange accommodations for you. Saint, would you be so kind as to escort him?”
“Of course.”
Before I could protest, the Saint grabbed my arm and led me out of the chamber.
She led me to a room far more luxurious than my dorm room.
“I’ll return this evening to explain everything in detail. Rest for now.”
“W-Wait…”
The door closed, leaving me alone in the opulent room.
Overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events, I collapsed onto the plush bed, intending to gather my thoughts, but exhaustion quickly claimed me.
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“Hmm… Do you drink?”
“…Yes.”
“Your Holiness, we’re minors!”
Yeah that’s right…
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