Saintess Candidate (1)
There were no gold mines in the Imperial South. No rare resources either—and even if you asked whether it was abundant in other resources, that was ambiguous at best. The region, dominated by deserts, had turned to entertainment as its main industry since it couldn't compete on resources. Most things mysterious or exotic were set in the South, giving it a vibe like Las Vegas.
On top of that...
"There are a lot of subraces in the West and South."
Beastkin, rarely seen elsewhere, appeared here and there. Though "subraces" mostly meant beastkin anyway, and even they were so few that calling it "a lot" was a stretch.
'Why are there so few? The Empire doesn't persecute them or enslave them.'
The Empire didn't actively use slavery. In fact, with recent education reforms, even the few existing slaves were vanishing.
'But the Executioners are all subraces...'
Did that mean the rest clustered in the West? Toward Maserin Kingdom? What did that have to do with the story?
There was one worst-case scenario that came to mind, but he decided not to dwell on it. It can't go that far, right? The core issue now wasn't that anyway.
Ku-gu-gu-gu-gung!
The diagonally sliced golden statue crashed to the floor with a thud.
Seeing a symbol of faith in a place utterly unrelated to religion? And one that could be called the Romper Holy Kingdom's icon at that? The implication was crystal clear.
"You've been taking money from the Holy Kingdom."
Why would the Holy Kingdom support the Imperial South? No deep thought needed.
'Because the Empire doesn't designate an state religion.'
The Empire didn't persecute any faith. Live your religion quietly, and don't overstep—that was the line. They used to respect it well enough, as he recalled.
But this golden statue had crossed it by a mile. Especially with no statue of the Great Prophet in sight, yet a foreign order's symbol planted prominently in the South.
'They said the missionaries dispatched to the North to clear suspicions of rebellion had grabbed a few dioceses for proselytizing. Turns out they'd already been working the South.'
Priests from Romper sent to dispel treason suspicions, yet boldly planning to evangelize in the North. He'd threatened instant death to stop it, but their audacity suddenly made sense.
"They had a foothold already progressing well."
Why hadn't the South reported this? Simple: too much money involved.
"Huff, huff, huff... Y-Your Imperial Highness...!"
After the golden statue was bisected, the lord came rushing up, his body jiggling with fat. The flashy jewelry draped over him screamed excess.
Even if he'd ignored etiquette his whole life, showing up like this to greet him? It laid bare how rotten the South was.
"Huff... sob... huff... whoo...."
Gasping just from the sprint.
"You look busy selling out the country."
One casual remark, and...
"N-No, absolutely not! Your Highness! I swear loyalty to the Empire!"
"Duke Odrick, then what's this golden statue? Not Holy Kingdom bribes?"
"Th-That was a gift from the Holy Kingdom... I was truly at a loss what to do with it. But for Your Highness to remove it—it's our house's glory...."
Excuses poured out. Had he heard the news from the North, East, and capital? Odrick, overseeing the entire South, trembled violently.
No matter the money and power, he knew death ended it all better than anyone. It reminded Bellon of someone.
And right on cue.
"Your Imperial Highness, if I may humbly suggest—does Your Highness need to waste your precious time on trash like this? Might this staff handle it?"
Theo emerged quietly from behind, offering his opinion cautiously.
"You'll handle it?"
"Yes! Your Imperial Highness is the Empire's little sun. Why bother with a puny duke like this, digging for Holy Kingdom ties? Leave such trifles to your First Staff."
"...."
The boy, who valued his life above all, was called the wisest mage. Bellon nodded.
'Acting like my limb now.'
Did he really want that? How badly did he crave a full life?
Pushing aside the bewildering loyalty.
"Handle it."
"An honor!"
After entrusting it to Theo.
'A "gift" statue? Makes their backyard multi even more blatant.'
Bellon chuckled at the Holy Kingdom's bold investment.
"Ha."
How many could refuse a golden holy statue? With religious freedom guaranteed, one statue seemed harmless. But accept gift after gift, and before you knew it, the Empire's colors would fade away.
"A duke with a bigger temple than the main one? They handed it free, so he let it slide."
Their guts were so transparent it was ridiculous. Come to think of it, Southern attire differed subtly from the Empire's. Always fashion-forward with its entertainments, but now laced with clear religious tones.
A star embedded between flowing valleys, lavishly adorned—easy to mistake for mere decoration. But it was unmistakably the Romper Church's symbol.
"Religious freedom doesn't mean actively proselytize."
Fail to toe the line, and pay accordingly.
"Remove every religious symbol in the South that's crossed the line. I'll take full responsibility."
First, clear the backyard multi.
***
Romper Grand Cathedral.
"The Romper Church items gifted to the Imperial South are being demolished one by one."
"...What?"
The Pope, deep in prayer, received the shocking report.
"In the South? Why? Wasn't it welcoming to our Church?"
The Imperial South—heavy investments there. The foothold to make Romper the Empire's state religion, their first outpost.
Now suddenly demolishing Church property?
"A gift, yet they decide its fate? Confusing, when they accepted ours so gladly before."
"Yes. From holy water onward... They bought our goods eagerly, even tailored clothes like ours."
Friendlier than "close allies." Geographically near, the South alone felt like an alliance.
"Right... So friendly, yet flipping overnight. The Crown Prince?"
Only one variable could cause this reversal.
"Yes."
The Crown Prince. Rumors of change, but not this drastic. Demolishing holy gifts so casually?
"We should at least express regret."
"Just a note? No pressure?"
"Our gifts were excessive. Intent obvious—we acted like we were devouring the South."
"Still, we can argue. They're gifts—harmless."
"Exactly. Demolishing harmless gifts leaves us with just 'regretful' notes."
The Pope eyed his son, Valerian, who brought the news.
"I know the banquet incident. But escalating this risks too much."
"Why?"
"They hold the justification."
Prostrating before his crush was embarrassing, but dragging the Holy Kingdom to war over it? Unthinkable.
"But they smashed our symbol! The Crown Prince! That's a war declaration!"
"War over that? Don't let love blind you."
"...."
Valerian frowned but realized his error.
"My apologies."
"Good, learn from it."
Empire vs. Holy Kingdom—who wins? Fifty-fifty? A crumbling Empire vs. a thriving Holy Kingdom. Yet odds barely even.
'Even if I mark the Crown Prince...'
Complicated. Fold for now?
Then.
"Saint! A letter from the Empire for you."
"What? A letter? An envoy?"
"No. Via messenger bird... It was so vicious, it dropped the letter and fled before we could react."
"Ha."
A letter from the Empire.
"Such rudeness."
Grumbling, but Valerian lacked the guts to shred it. He took the priest's offered letter and read.
Beautiful, elegant prose—but summed up simply:
DON'T GET COCKY
"...."
Gifts fine, but stay in line. Imagining this via envoy? Horrifying.
'Sent by letter to avoid insult?'
The Crown Prince's consideration? As Valerian reeled, the Pope checked it too.
"...Clearly frames us as at fault."
"Just take it?"
"Treason suspicions linger— what now?"
"Send a lavish apology gift?"
At the Pope's words, Valerian lit up with an idea.
"Perfect timing... We have that anomalous saintess candidate."
"'Anomalous'? She's the closest to saintess now."
"How?! Mirne will be the saintess!"
"So send the top candidate to Bellos Empire? As apology? What meaning in that?"
The Pope was dumbfounded. Amid saintess contenders' rivalry, ship the frontrunner away? Too obvious.
'So shrewd once—love blinds him.'
Just wants to sideline her for Mirne. He wanted to say it, but couldn't—not to his heart's son.
Instead of dismissing, he probed.
"Apology via person, not gifts, since they hate that. Suspected of treason, so send a key figure to show sincerity...."
"Using a saintess candidate as hostage?"
"A strong play. Endless suspicion keeps us weak."
"...."
Regretted asking, yet it sounded plausible.
'Treason support... Hard to deny outright.'
Deny if pressed, but hard to fully withdraw. A big gesture to wipe the slate?
'Not bad.'
Can't stay low forever.
'Me or the Saint going escalates it.'
But a saintess candidate? As that conclusion formed.
This moment, the Crown Prince.
"Hm?"
The villainess draws near.
"What? Suddenly?"
He received the Villainess Ring's abrupt message.
"Theo, investigation results?"
"Yes! Confirmed pure gifts only! Minor embezzlement by the duke—your wisdom on handling?"
"Ignore the petty stuff. Plenty sold the country bigger. That's cute."
"Understood!"
This, just before the saintess candidate's arrival message.