A Merciful Verdict
"Your judgment carries mercy," the Emperor said, gazing at his daughter with a complicated expression as she was dragged before him like a dog. Kneeling wretchedly in the square under the eyes of the crowd, she looked so pitiful that he felt an urge to summon his mages at once. Of course, doing so would not save her; it would only let him watch those mages be reduced to chunks of meat.
The monstrous priest, his robes soaked in black blood, paid no mind to how dirty his methods became. He draped those methods over his own body and, with those terrifying green eyes flashing, spoke for all to hear. "The punishment for this heresy will be perfectly just before the Goddess. Your Majesty will permit it, won't you?"
This bastard...
When the messenger from the Church had summoned him to the square, the Emperor had wondered what was happening. Now, standing before the tribunal that had been set up right in front of him, he found himself at a loss for words. It seemed the man had decided to carry out the sentence in full view of the entire capital, worried the Emperor might ask for leniency.
"Yes... the punishment will be just," the Emperor finally admitted with his own mouth. Claiming special treatment for his daughter in front of every citizen would have dealt a severe blow to his prestige.
Jenkinson spoke honestly at the sight. "That's a relief. I would have been in a bit of trouble if the conversation had dragged on. I'm rather tired today."
That much is obvious just by looking at you...
The Emperor found himself thinking it was fortunate. This incident was under the Pope's direct watch, and the odds of demonic involvement were high. Judging by the priest's appearance, that seemed to be the case. Which meant the man had dealt with the demons in Logan, then used an expensive teleportation circle to reach the capital and summon him. That level of obsession, willing to burn such resources just to finish the job quickly, bordered on madness. In that moment, the Emperor found the man before him more frightening than Gilbert.
"You have broken the Goddess Yuno's sacred teaching to protect the family and joined a wicked gathering," Jenkinson declared with a solemn face. The crowd murmured, and Orvia lowered her head in shame. Watching her, Jenkinson lightly drew a holy sign.
"Yet the Goddess is truly merciful, and a single foolish act can be forgiven. Therefore, I sentence you to five years of service in a monastery, along with a heresy condemnation."
Once the verdict was handed down, Orvia was surprised by how light the punishment was. Honestly, the moment demons became involved, she had expected to be seized by enraged citizens right there in the square, humiliated, and burned at the stake. Staring at him with wide eyes, Jenkinson smiled and said, "Do not forget the Goddess's mercy. And Your Majesty?"
"...Uh, yes? What is it?" The Emperor was startled to be addressed. He was still flustered by the unexpectedly lenient sentence. After all, this was the infidelity committed by Duke Gilbert's wife, and demons had likely been involved. Under imperial law, it would have been a grave crime warranting at least tattoos across the entire body and ten years of hard labor in the salt mines.
Only then did the Emperor understand why Gilbert had insisted it had to be this man. There was mercy in his judgment.
"Please pass this on to Duke Gilbert. I have done as you wished. Tell him that next time, he should be a little more direct."
"...I will be sure to deliver the message." As the Emperor nodded, Jenkinson smiled gently. "That's a relief."
With those words, Jenkinson lightly drew a holy sign over her and entrusted her escort to the paladins who had followed him. Then he left the capital at once. There was no longer any reason for him to remain.
---
The cold wind blew across the wilderness where a massive fortress stood: Schalin Fortress, the Empire's proudest shield that had long repelled barbarian invasions. While inspecting the fortress defenses, Gilbert received a letter from the capital and lightly broke the wax seal.
"...I suppose I gave him too obvious a hint."
Gilbert smiled softly after reading the contents. Had he been too obvious with the man? It seemed the man had already grasped his intentions.
Well, this is still the best outcome.
When Gilbert had first noticed her affair, he had honestly felt little interest. He was not a particularly devout follower of Yuno, and their marriage had only come about because the Emperor arranged it and refusing would have been awkward. He did not particularly love her either. He had intended to overlook a minor indiscretion like that. But once he learned the true nature of the gathering, Gilbert understood the gravity of the situation. Participating in a demonic gathering within the Empire was a serious crime. The Church was no different. Even under the Church's more lenient laws, anyone involved with demons was to be dealt with severely.
In other words, her ruin had already been foretold. If left alone, she was destined to be discovered by one side or the other. If the Empire found out, she would be tattooed as a criminal and sent to the salt mines. Her frail body would not last even a few days before she was raped to death by the other prisoners. If the Church caught her, most Inquisitors would sentence her to burning. Honestly, he did not care what happened to her, but he had no desire to see a woman he had once shared a bed with meet such an end.
That was why Gilbert had called for that man—the most merciful, yet strongest, among all Inquisitors. He was the only one who could protect her from the demons without issue and resolve the matter cleanly. And the man had lived up to Gilbert's expectations perfectly.
As expected...
"You really are interesting."
Gilbert muttered and smiled. To think he had single-handedly wiped out all the demons. Truly... someday, he wanted to experience that man's power for himself.
---
Early morning. Before the rooster had even crowed, Angri came to the church and woke Silvestina. Speaking to her as she yawned lazily in her disheveled nightclothes, her deep white valley exposed without a care, he said, "It seems that man really did handle every demon there by himself. He even managed to capture a mid-rank demon."
She still looked half-asleep even after hearing this, but Angri paid no mind and kept talking. "Perhaps Priest Jenkinson would be better suited as an Exorcist."
Angri added this with a completely excited expression. After all, someone capable of single-handedly defeating demons like that was rare even within the Church.
"Haaam..."
Though Angri's tone was highly enthusiastic, Silvestina remained indifferent. What did it matter? That brat had already killed thousands of demons with his own hands. Even Amon had been exorcised by him. Time had only made the boy stronger, not weaker. Capturing a single mid-rank demon was barely even a light workout for him.
"...You're not surprised."
"Rather, I don't understand why you are. Your Holiness, it's that guy we're talking about."
At those words, Silvestina saw the puzzled look on Angri's face and only then remembered that most of the boy's achievements had been credited to her within the Church. She scratched her head.
That brat...
Because he did not want to draw the higher-ups' attention, most of his major feats—like exorcising Amon—had been reported as her accomplishments. So the Church's upper echelons believed the rumors were just foolish commoners' nonsense and that everything was Silvestina's doing. Angri was no exception. Of course, he knew Priest Jenkinson was competent and strong enough for the renowned demon hunter Bishop Silvestina to permit independent action, but he had no idea the priest was that powerful. In truth, the only Church figures aware of Jenkinson's abnormal strength were Silvestina, Archbishop Hermann—who still eyed the boy hungrily—and the paladins who frequently saw him in action. In that sense, perhaps the Emperor knew more than anyone.
While Silvestina was having such cheeky thoughts and yawning, Angri asked with a serious face, "...Could there have been an error in the report?"
Realizing something from her reaction, Silvestina thought, Ah... This was something the boy at least wanted kept secret from the higher-ups.
"Ah... well, you see..."
Angri sighed at her response. "You do know that lying is a sin, don't you, Bishop Silvestina?"
"...I'm sorry. But the punishment for lying is just a donation at most."
Zap!
Angri's eyes clearly said, So you think that's fine? Silvestina shrank under that gaze and slumped over.
"Honestly... In that case, I suppose I'll have to hear everything myself. What the truth really is."
Angri shook his head at her reaction, sat down firmly, and in that moment Silvestina realized she could no longer hide it.
Sorry, Jenkinson.
Silvestina apologized to her troublesome disciple and subordinate in her heart, then finally explained everything to Angri—everything the boy had done, and everything he had hidden from the Church's upper echelons.