Outsourcing
The moment the Pope heard the Saintess claim she had heard the Goddess's voice, he nearly collapsed on the spot.
That was how deeply the shock struck him.
It could not be a lie.
There was already precedent for what happened to a Saintess who falsely claimed to have heard the Goddess's voice.
At first, as if the Goddess were granting one final chance, the body would rebel—chills, fever, unmistakable rejection. Clear enough that anyone nearby would know something was terribly wrong. Instinct would then scream the truth: confess now. Admit the lie.
If even then the truth was withheld, if the pretender insisted on speaking in the Goddess's name to the end—
The Goddess showed no further mercy.
Every scrap of holy power and every blessing would be stripped away.
Yet the Saintess before him looked perfectly fine.
Which meant she truly had heard the Goddess's voice.
"Ah… ahhh…"
Tears spilled from his eyes before he could stop them.
Even so, the Saintess watched the Pope's undignified display with quiet understanding, waiting in silence until he regained control of himself.
Only when the tears finally ceased did she speak.
"Have you calmed a little?"
Her tone carried a gentle scolding, as if she found him hopeless. The sound of it snapped him back to himself. Shame at his own loss of composure flooded him. He berated himself for insufficient discipline and bowed his head to her.
"Forgive me. This old man has made a spectacle of himself, most unbefitting his years."
"Not at all. I understand Your Holiness's feelings completely."
She offered a soft smile as she spoke.
"I could scarcely believe it myself at first. But I heard it clearly."
"May I ask what the Goddess said?"
The Saintess nodded and answered with calm composure.
"She said that a demon's keen dagger could strike humanity's heart in a sudden ambush."
The content, however, was anything but ordinary.
Humanity's heart usually meant the Imperial Capital—and the Holy See. Both lay within the Empire's capital. In other words, a demonic ambush would take place in the heart of the Empire itself.
He must not doubt. Yet he could not help doubting.
"Did the Goddess truly speak those words?"
It was impossible.
As long as the Emperor lived, no demonic ambush could succeed. The instant any demon set foot on Imperial soil, it fell under the Emperor's gaze. Even if a demon tried to slip toward the capital in secret, the moment of discovery would end any chance of surprise.
That was why the Pope, sacrilegiously, asked again. The claim simply defied all common sense.
But the Saintess was firm.
"Yes. That is what She said. She did not, however, specify which demon, when, or how the ambush would come. Or rather—She could not."
"Why…?"
"The Goddess tried to speak of it, yet Her voice simply ceased, as if something would not permit Her to say more."
The Demon King's doing? Or the world's own laws barring the Goddess from excessive interference?
Frail, foolish humans could never know. They could only guess.
"In its place, the Goddess told me many things to lend me even a little strength. Fortunately, those words I could hear."
With that, the Saintess rose slowly—then immediately sank back down.
Only then did the Pope remember that her body was still far from recovered.
"Saintess! You must still rest! Please return to your chambers at once and recover your strength."
He moved to support her, but she shook her head. Steadying her ragged breathing, she rose again and spoke.
"I cannot. I must go as soon as possible. We have no idea when the demon's dagger will strike. Even if it costs me my remaining lifespan, I must accept the Goddess's arrangement and stop that blade."
Watching her, he felt it keenly.
She burned with such passion she seemed ready to consume even herself.
And it was the Church's duty to stand at the side of such a Saintess and support her.
"Saintess. Did the Goddess command that you yourself must retrieve these things?"
"…She said no such thing."
"Then make use of us. The Church is the Goddess's servant, and everything the Church possesses exists for Her sake. Why do you refuse to command the Goddess's own servants?"
She hesitated a moment, then spoke carefully.
"Would it not be a burden?"
"How could aiding the Saintess ever be a burden?"
"Then… I will ask. Please help me."
She bowed her head as she spoke—an action most unfitting for a Saintess who ought to stand above the clergy.
Yet somehow it did not feel wrong at all.
Everything proceeded smoothly.
I simply told them everything I knew about the items I needed, and the Holy Knights went out to fetch them. All I had to do was wait at the Holy See, and the items arrived on their own.
"Why did I ever think I had to go myself?"
When such a splendid method as outsourcing existed.
I was almost embarrassed that the thought never occurred to me until the Bombardment Fairy suggested making people do the work.
I had only one body, but there were hundreds of Holy Knights. If that many knights set out after my items, they could run multiple quests at once. In other words, efficiency per unit of time would skyrocket.
Of course, not every knight was dispatched. We still had no idea when a demon might ambush the Holy See, so a force had to remain ready for a sudden attack.
"Ah, I never expected it to be solved this easily."
I was so pleased a smile rose unbidden to my lips.
The Bombardment Fairy asks whether you truly heard the Goddess's voice.
"Of course not. I had no choice if I wanted my words to carry weight."
If I had simply announced that demons would ambush us and that such-and-such items existed in such-and-such places, even a Saintess's word would have been hard to believe. But if I said the Goddess Herself had declared that demons would strike and that these items lay in those places, then—at least within the Church—my words gained real persuasive force.
That was why I had deliberately gone to the prayer room in the early dawn and pretended to pray: to stage the appearance of having heard the Goddess's voice for everyone else to see.
The Bombardment Fairy is aghast, demanding to know if that isn't outright fraud.
Bringing up facts now, of all times?
Still, I had a rebuttal ready.
"…The Goddess never said a word about it, so in the end it was done by mutual agreement, wasn't it?"
Right, Goddess?
Anyway, among the items I knew, the ones I could obtain immediately and that would actually be useful to me would be gathered by the Holy Knights on their own. The rest I would request from them later, as needed, once the demonic ambush incident was over. Better to fetch something the moment I needed it than to stockpile items I had no use for yet and risk losing or damaging them.
So what should I do now?
"First, bombardment accuracy practice."
Bombardment drills didn't care much whether my body was in good shape or bad. At the same time, I planned to dig up information on the Four Heavenly Kings—the powerful new enemies added in the DLC. Even a scrap of knowledge was desperately needed right now.
And once my body finished recovering, going after that wouldn't be a bad idea either. Other items could be outsourced, but that one I had to retrieve myself.
Or I could resume training with Andreus and head out to the battlefield.
"For now, the urgent matters are about that much."
It would be nice if some of the locked functions unlocked along the way… but hoping for that much was probably greed.
Having reached that conclusion, all that remained was to act on it.
I was just about to head straight for the training grounds when—
The Bombardment Fairy recoils in disgust, asking if you're going to the training grounds again.
"Of course. I felt it on the last battlefield—firing bombardments while standing still in practice is completely different from firing them while moving hard in real combat."
I had expected as much, but in reality my accuracy dropped far worse than I had imagined. Close-range fire let me cover for it somewhat, yet I had no intention of being satisfied with that.
"I have to practice bombardments no matter what, if only to close that gap."
The Bombardment Fairy points out that you are acting far too impatient.
The Bombardment Fairy scolds you, asking whether you have no intention of resting at all.
Rest. Rest, was it?
If this had been before I met the Four Heavenly Kings, I would have seriously considered the Bombardment Fairy's suggestion. I would have accepted it, even, telling myself that proper rest was actually helpful.
"I have no intention of resting."
But I could not do that now.
I looked impatient? Of course I did.
Anxiety gnawed at me. The Four Heavenly Kings had shaken me that badly. Perfect unknowns whose strength I could not even gauge—and I had to face them. Who in the world could cast aside anxiety when confronting the unknown?
"I know you want to go sightseeing. But I'll let you do that all you want after we kill the Demon King."
With those words I set off once more toward the training grounds.
…That isn't it.
I'm saying this because you look ready to collapse any second.
You idiot.