Homecoming to the Holy Kingdom
Hymns echoed from every corner of the Holy State of Roswell, accompanied by its impeccably maintained, spotless streets and the churches that stood without fail in every city and town. Yes, this was the Holy State of Roswell—a place that served as a second home to every monastic on the continent.
I had spent my own university years here. The curriculum in Roswell’s university approached theology differently from other institutions. While secular schools might employ renowned scholars to lecture on the subject, here it was seasoned priests personally appointed as instructors by the church leadership who taught the classes directly. As a result, the theology taught in this place was far more practical, and it incorporated rigorous training in holy magic alongside it.
Holy magic. On the continent, the term “magic” generally referred to three distinct systems: unique magic, standard magic, and holy magic.
Unique magic was exactly what the name implied—personal magic that every human possessed at least one of. The conditions required to manifest it varied wildly from person to person. In a sense, it was the least researched magical system on the entire continent.
Standard magic was the conventional kind. If you knew the mana formulas and the proper equations, anyone could use it. Magic trains, tools that regulated water temperature, cold-storage boxes for food—everyday wonders like these were all products of standard magic. In other words, most mages were essentially celebrated scientists, experts steeped in the natural sciences so they could wield their craft more effectively.
And finally, holy magic. This was the clergy’s magic, a collection of spells primarily suited for eradicating evil, detecting heresy, healing wounds, and similar purposes. To speak coldly, it was more accurate to view it as a subcategory of standard magic.
Those who specialized in holy magic were therefore also fundamentally proficient in medicine. So… why was I suddenly reciting all of this?
Because a certain superior of mine had just asked me about it out of the blue.
“You understand it well.”
I handed over the demon I had dragged in and looked at her with open puzzlement.
“Why are you suddenly asking about something so basic?”
I couldn’t fathom why she would quiz me on such elementary knowledge, but she answered with perfect nonchalance.
“Because you’ll become an instructor priest someday too. You need to have the fundamentals memorized.”
An instructor priest… Of course, once I accumulated enough years, I would eventually take on that role. But why bring it up now? I genuinely didn’t understand. Besides—
“Forgive me, but isn’t that the kind of absolute basic taught in lower educational institutions rather than at university level?”
Wasn’t this material far too elementary to be explaining here? To my question, Bishop Silvestina replied while inspecting the demon I had transferred to her.
“True. Still, it has to be explained. It’s a damned nuisance. No matter how basic it is, once someone shows up you have to go over it. Besides… plenty of paladins don’t even know this stuff.”
“…?”
Paladins? I was still tilting my head when Bishop Silvestina suddenly looked straight at me and spread her arms wide. Her voluminous chest, impossible to hide even beneath her ornate robes, made its presence known. I stared at her with deepening confusion.
“?”
What exactly was she doing? As I stood there watching her splendid vestments, she smiled at me with those blood-red eyes.
“Can’t even greet the mentor you haven’t seen in so long?”
“You’re not my teacher anymore.”
Even while grumbling, I stepped forward and hugged her. Now that I thought about it, she always did this whenever I returned to the Holy State. It was a little embarrassing, honestly… but the gesture reminded me of my late mother, so the feeling wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
“Welcome back.”
She smiled gently as she spoke. I felt oddly shy and answered curtly.
“…Well, it’s not as if I run into that many life-threatening situations, is it?”
I had survived the Lemore battle, after all. Alone.
At those words, Bishop Silvestina’s expression clouded with sorrow. I could read the emotions swimming in her eyes—pity, compassion, and… kinship.
Of course. To her, this probably didn’t sound like someone else’s problem. She and I were the same. If I had lost my comrades in a war sparked by a single mine, the woman before me had lost hers to a single demon. If the only comrade left to me had been Ilena… then for Bishop Silvestina, the only one remaining was—
“Hey! Tina. You still look healthy as ever. And Jenkinson too.”
A massive man approached with a playful greeting. I bowed my head respectfully. This handsome man, radiating such masculine charm that one could easily believe he was still in his late twenties, was none other than—
“It is good to see Your Excellency Herman looking well.”
Herman Bullshake. He was the last comrade left to her, a man of such stature that only the Goddess Yuno and the Pope stood above him.
“I’m always healthy. Good to see you’re the same.”
Herman joined us naturally and introduced the nun standing quietly behind him.
“This is Sister Lina. She’s my assistant.”
“My name is Lina. It is an honor, Priest Jenkinson.”
She bowed politely.
“I am Jenkinson Beckett.”
After returning the greeting to the courteous nun, I turned to Bishop Silvestina—who was currently glaring at Archbishop Herman—and asked,
“Is something the matter, Your Excellency?”
“There isn’t!”
Anyone could see there clearly was… I kept the thought to myself. Something told me that needling her now would only come back to haunt me on my next performance review.
A short while later, Bishop Silvestina departed with the demon in tow, and Sister Lina left to handle the necessary paperwork. Before I knew it, I was alone with Archbishop Herman.
“You still seem quite fond of that Adultery Investigator post.”
Click.
Archbishop Herman strolled slowly, uncapping the ever-present liquor bottle at his hip and taking a swig as he spoke. I nodded.
“Yes. And does Your Excellency still believe I am engaged in work unsuited to my talents?”
He gave another nod.
“Obviously. But… well, it’s fine.”
Herman glanced in the direction the captured demon had been taken and smiled faintly.
“No matter what you do, it looks like you’ll end up walking a path similar to mine. Might as well keep watching a little longer.”
Was he saying I would get entangled with demons no matter where I went? For a servant of God to utter such a grim prophecy. Even as the thought crossed my mind, I continued walking beside him.
After that it was nothing but idle chatter—sharing information on the captured demon, catching up on recent events. By the time we finished talking, a colossal cathedral had appeared in the distance.
The Saint Yuno Great Cathedral. I straightened my slightly disheveled clothes as I looked at it.
She was there. The highest authority in this cathedral after the Goddess herself—the person I had to meet in person today.
‘What a strange kid.’
Herman thought of the young man who had headed straight to the Pope’s chambers to meet His Holiness and settled comfortably onto a bench to wait for Lina. Honestly, the position of Inquisitor was not a pleasant one. You ate curses from all sides, the danger was constant, and you received far less respect than other priests. It was common to be sneered at as “investigator sir” for always poking into other people’s private affairs. When the post belonged to the family department, people even used the outright derogatory title Adultery Investigator.
Not many Inquisitors were satisfied with such a role. Most requested transfers, recording even worse retention rates than the already unpopular Exorcist position.
It was understandable. While Exorcists were also an avoided post, the abilities demanded of them were limited to detecting demons and possessing the power to exorcise them. With fewer requirements, a high evaluation could be earned simply by performing exorcisms well.
In contrast, Inquisitors required devout faith, outstanding doctrinal interpretation skills that ranked among the best in the church, complete familiarity with every precedent case, and, depending on the situation, sharp investigative abilities to uncover heresy. Eloquence and personal affinity—skills that allowed them to draw information from people with ease—were merely additional expectations.
On top of that, performance reviews were brutally strict. For every judgment rendered, Inquisitors had to document every detail, compile a full report, and have both the verdict and its appropriateness evaluated by high-ranking clergy. The number of heretics captured was, of course, part of the assessment.
In short, an Inquisitor had to master the laws of at least three kingdoms in addition to church and imperial law, memorize over a hundred thousand precedents, and possess superior investigative talent, eloquence, and interpersonal skills. These were the elites who staked their lives traveling the continent.
The position demanded an almost impossible combination of sacrificial spirit and ability. It was only natural they had been granted the inverted cross—the very symbol of sacrifice. Their dedication was that noble, and Herman had no intention of denying the value of the work itself.
But… no matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was a waste for that boy to be stuck in the role. The kid’s power would be infinitely more useful in exorcising demons than in investigating adultery.
‘And Lilith, of all names… It’s been a while since I heard that one.’
Finishing his thoughts, Herman took another long pull from his bottle as he recalled the topic of the upcoming meeting. Honestly… he did not hold particularly warm feelings toward her.
“The procedures are finished.”
Lina, having completed the paperwork, returned and reported. Herman rose from the bench and gave his black robes a light brush.
“Good. Then shall we go see her?”
Before the meeting began, there was someone Herman very much wanted to meet. He began walking at a leisurely pace. The place where that woman waited was not far from here.