Chapter 33
Chapter 33
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter Title: Mayonnaise Caught Between Empire and Faith
-----------------------------------------------------------------
That day onward, the imperial capital was swept up in two massive waves.
The imperial family loudly proclaimed through official gazettes and heralds that this new blessing originated from the lands granted by His Majesty the Emperor to the new lord, Jonathan.
The imperial direct trading company distributed mayonnaise stamped with the Imperial Safe Mark, making it clear to all under heaven that it fell entirely under the Emperor's mercy and authority.
People praised the Emperor's generosity and went wild for the soft miracle distributed in his name.
"Even tough chicken breast becomes silky smooth like satin—it's truly a miracle!"
"As expected of His Majesty! This tenderness is nothing less than heaven's grace!"
"Exactly! Just one dollop of this miraculous cream turns tough bread or bland potatoes into something fit for a noble's table in an instant!"
But at the same time, an entirely different story began bubbling up from the lowest strata of the empire like a spring.
During Sunday prayer services, priests from every cathedral pulpit preached in unison about a new miracle.
It was the tale of the ivory tears that saved Saintess Lumiel Benedicta, who had collapsed in hunger and despair.
"The Saintess herself said it! That taste was like the Lord's warm hand comforting a starving tongue and embracing a wounded soul!"
People whispered among themselves.
The vivid story of the miracle Lumiel herself had experienced spread across the entire empire through the mouths of pilgrims.
"Did you hear? This white miracle is the very food that saved our Saintess from collapsing in hunger!"
"No wonder... It goes beyond mere taste— it warms the heart. Truly the Lord's grace."
People held the bread distributed by the Emperor in their hands and learned its sacred meaning through the Church.
If the imperial family had named it mayonnaise, the Papal Court bestowed upon it the far more potent moniker of the Saintess's Salvation.
The imperial family owned the material substance, but the Church owned its meaning.
An invisible war unfolding on the empire's dinner tables.
The subtle power play between the two forces tautly pulled at the capital's air.
And finally, the day arrived when all conflicts converged in one place.
.
.
.
*Three days later, in the Ruberius Palace audience chamber.*
The audience chamber, which should have been filled with the empire's ministers, held only two men facing each other.
Siegmund the Emperor, arms crossed and standing before rather than on his jade throne, and opposite him, Pope Innocentius III, leaning on his staff with a serene yet utterly unyielding expression.
The air in the audience chamber was cold as ice.
The Emperor spoke first. His voice carried suppressed fury.
"We bestowed this grace upon the empire's people for their sake, and Your Holiness the Pope has grandly named it the Saintess's Salvation. Thanks to that, Our merits are turning into the Lord's glory. We are truly moved."
The Pope replied calmly, without losing his benevolent smile.
"We have merely added spiritual meaning to the material mercy bestowed by Your Majesty, elevating its value further. The people eat Your Majesty's bread and feel the Lord's miracle, giving thanks to both. What could be better than that?"
"Better?!"
The Emperor's voice finally erupted. He uncrossed his arms and took a step toward the Pope.
His red eyes blazed with anger.
"This is the fruit born from the lands We granted, crafted by Our vassal! Managing and distributing it to the people is solely the imperial family's authority and duty!"
"Yet the Papal Court speaks of it as if it were theirs from the start, peddling miracles and salvation! This is blatant overreach and deception against the imperial family!"
The Pope's expression remained unshaken by the Emperor's rage. Indeed, his golden eyes even shone with pity.
"Baking bread is human craft, but the mystery of life within it is the Lord's domain. What Jonathan crafted was no mere food, but a miracle the Lord showed the world through him."
"The Church merely interprets that miracle and teaches its meaning to the people. How can Your Majesty seek to rule even the Lord's domain? That hubris is the true deception and blasphemy against heaven!"
At this, displeasure openly crossed the Emperor's face.
"Blasphemy, you say? Mind your words!"
Killing intent surged around the Emperor, and the audience chamber's temperature seemed to plummet below freezing in an instant.
The guard knights reflexively gripped their spears tighter, and the paladins accompanying the Pope clutched their sword hilts firmly.
The empire's two suns clashed fiercely over the ivory miracle named mayonnaise, on the verge of devouring each other.
'What in the world is going on here.'
In this hair-trigger situation, I could only stand frozen.
A no-holds-barred power struggle between the empire's two pillars, staking their very foundations.
And at the center of it all was the ivory sauce I had created.
Terror crept up my spine at the thought that this could spiral into something uncontrollable.
Right at that razor-edge moment.
A frail yet captivating voice broke the heavy silence, seizing everyone's ears.
"...I'm sorry."
There stood Saintess Lumiel Benedicta in her white nun's habit, face pale as she bowed deeply beside me.
Her shoulders trembled faintly.
"Because of me... because of me, this..."
Thick teardrops welled in her golden eyes.
"I just wanted to let people know of Jonathan's kindness and the salvation its taste brings... I never imagined it would make the two of you quarrel like this... Hic..."
She had only wanted to spread pure goodwill, yet her actions had become the spark colliding the empire's two suns.
The road to hell is paved with good intentions, as they say.
Seeing her beside me, lost and teary-eyed, I couldn't even bring myself to be angry.
Pure goodwill turned into a tool for vile politics.
Under that weight, her slender shoulders seemed ready to shatter at any moment.
The moment I moved to offer her comforting words, a figure emerged from a corner of the audience chamber.
"Princess?"
"Honestly... Jonathan's too nice for his own good. Our Saintess too."
She nodded toward Lumiel, ignoring the frigid atmosphere.
"It's obvious, isn't it? The Saintess over there only wished for Jonathan's good deeds to spread far and wide. She never imagined things would blow up like this. Right, Saintess?"
Lumiel bowed her head further at her words, whispering through tear-choked sobs.
"I'm sorry... I just wanted his good intentions to spread, so the hungry could find comfort... My foolishness..."
"Enough with the apologies."
Lorensia cut her off with a sigh.
"What's done is done. The point now isn't who's right or wrong—it's how we clean this mess up."
At her utterly pragmatic words, I smiled and stepped forward.
"It's alright, Saintess. Your intentions were never wrong."
I first reassured Lumiel, then racked my brains again.
To turn this around, I needed a new proposal both could accept.
The very moment I opened my mouth to present the solution—
-BAM!
The heavy audience chamber doors flew open as if about to shatter, and an imperial knight covered in sweat and dust staggered in, pale-faced.
"Y-Your Majesty! Emergency report!"
All eyes in the chamber turned to him at his breach of decorum and protocol.
The Emperor furrowed his brow deeply, asking in a voice suppressing displeasure.
"What is this commotion? Is it so grave you dare forgo etiquette before Us?!"
"Forgive me, Your Majesty! Mass food poisoning symptoms have broken out at relief centers in the capital's slums!"
The Emperor's face hardened coldly at the report.
The Pope also dropped his benevolent smile, gazing at the knight with concern.
"What is the cause? Surely there's no issue with the grace We bestowed!"
"Th-that..."
The knight faltered, lips trembling, unable to continue.
In his hand was a filthy rag stained with grime and some unidentified red liquid.
And in the center of that rag, a golden emblem stamped all too clearly.
The Imperial Safe Mark.
"......!"
In that instant, the audience chamber's air froze solid. The Emperor's red eyes shook in disbelief.
"What in heaven's name is this?! Report at once!"
"The patients consumed cheap red sauces circulating on the black market recently. However, the containers held discarded fakes mixed in—counterfeit arrabbiata—and atop them, forged Imperial Safe Marks!"
All color drained from the Emperor's face. Lorensia's hardened as well.
Fake arrabbiata. The very stuff not just tasteless but laced with toxic weeds.
The item ordered disposed of—how?
"Who distributed it?! Report everything, now!"
"A low-level official from the Imperial Goods Management Office is suspected of siphoning off disposal items and colluding with black marketeers! Not just one type—all remaining fakes were mixed into one batch to bulk it up...!"
A horrific truth.
Different toxic weeds and crude spices mingled, creating unimaginable poison.
And that deadly toxin had entered the mouths of the poorest, hungriest under the imperial name.
He staggered briefly but soon straightened as the empire's sovereign.
His red eyes emptied of all emotion, leaving only steely resolve.
"Send heralds across the empire. Halt all sales of sauces under the imperial name immediately! Arrest that official now and track down every last conspirator! Not one survives!"
At the Emperor's command, the guard knights moved in perfect unison. The audience chamber transformed into a wartime command post in seconds.
Amid the chaos, the Pope quietly stepped forward. His face held no rivalry or political calculus toward the Emperor—only deep compassion for the suffering.
"Your Majesty."
His voice carried warmth and mercy, as if the prior political clash had never happened.
"Now is not the time to argue right and wrong."
Gripping his staff firmly, he spoke with firm yet warm resolve.
"The Papal Court will dispatch all temple healers to the relief centers at once. We'll release every antidote and herb in our stores without reserve. Under the Lord's mercy, saving even one more soul is our sole duty now."
The Emperor gazed silently into the Pope's eyes.
The blazing anger and rivalry were gone, replaced by the shared responsibility of two leaders facing the same pain.
For the first time in ages, the Emperor nodded sincerely.
"...Thank you. Your aid is sorely needed."
And just like that, everyone in the audience chamber scattered like an ebbing tide.