Pope Maria Queenpin (3)
Holy Haven Papal State's Lower Village.
Unlike the Upper Village overflowing with those who had awakened Holy Power through professional training,
this Lower Village was home to ordinary people who hadn't awakened Holy Power.
One might wonder if they faced discrimination just hearing that,
but no such traces could be found anywhere in the village—thankfully.
"To Vivian's brilliant future, cheers──!!"
"Cheers──!!!!"
The moment Lumina and I arrived in the Lower Village, the first thing that caught our eye was a tavern.
With most lit buildings being places like this, we had no choice but to step inside,
but the atmosphere was far more boisterous and lively than I'd imagined.
The polar opposite of the stifling silence in the priest-packed Upper Village.
"Vi-Vivian... It's not too late. Let's head back now......"
"Why? Doesn't look dangerous to me."
"It's a tavern... Not a place for a child......"
Unable to withstand Lumina's fiery protests,
I finally sipped the warm milk the owner uncle had handed me and subtly scanned the room.
"Hahaha! No worries, Vivian. Even without awakened Holy Power, there's plenty to do!"
"Right! Even us ragtag types are getting by just fine!"
"Not awakening Holy Power doesn't mean the Goddess has abandoned us!"
The drunken uncles plopped beside me laughed heartily, fearlessly chugging their massive beer mugs.
With my face veiled, I couldn't see straight ahead,
but I could roughly gauge how they saw me.
"You all seem so full of life, even without Holy Power."
"Damn right! We get by plenty fine without it!"
"Not envious of the Upper Village folks?"
"Envious? Those stiffs can't even drink freely without peeking at the Goddess!"
The strawberry-nosed uncle next to me let out a booming laugh and moved to pat my back—
only to flinch hard at Lumina's razor-sharp glare and yank his hand back.
"W-We make do without Holy Power by tilling the Goddess's land with these sturdy limbs......"
"Ooh......"
I'd braced for a dreary vibe in a village of Holy Power-less folks,
but it turned out to be a perfectly ordinary place, brimming with the raw scent of everyday life.
Far from resenting or envying the Upper Village,
they brimmed with pride in their own way of living—healthy, robust, unbowed.
Thanks to His Holiness's wise rule?
Or the people's innate optimism?
Either way, it wasn't half bad. I tipped back the wooden cup and drained the last of my milk without hesitation.
"While the Upper Village saints just sit there praying, we repay the Goddess with real sweat. Ain't that right?"
"Exactly. Prayer comes in different forms, but to the Goddess, we're all her precious kids just the same."
My bright reply set the tavern roaring with laughter once more.
Maybe it was the string of heavy events lately,
but the tension knotting my brain started to loosen, bit by bit, under those laughs.
"Hahaha! Hear that girl talk? Way more spunk than those Upper Village saints?!"
"Don't bother suffering up there—come on down! We'll stuff you with all the good eats!"
Hmm, if carefree living's the goal, Lower Village beats Upper Village hands down.
Fewer headaches, no choking etiquette to navigate.
This vibe suited me way better.
Well, Upper Village wasn't terrible to live in or anything......
"Uncle, how much do you know about the Goddess?"
The mood felt ripe enough now......
Time to dig into my real goal: learning more about the Goddess.
I set the empty wooden cup gently on the table
and tossed out the question casually, like an afterthought.
"Huh? Why that all of a sudden?"
"Just curious. Beyond Papal State teachings, any stories passed down here?"
At my tentative probe, the strawberry-nosed uncle—beer foam caked in his mustache—suddenly barked a laugh.
"All that dull scripture-reading up top's got you itchy, eh?!"
He slammed his mug on the table with a thud and scooted right up to me.
A whiff of booze hit me, but it wasn't overpowering, so I let it slide.
"H-Hold on...! Don't get so close to Vivian!"
Lumina, who'd been grinding her teeth while watching, freaked and darted between us.
She looked petrified something might happen to me.
"It's fine, Lumina. Nothing's gonna go down."
"But Vivian......"
"I'm good, so just hang back for now, okay?"
Even with my steady reassurance, Lumina's lips kept twitching in worry.
But she finally relented, stepping back limply and sinking into her seat.
"Haha, you her nanny or somethin'?"
"N-Nanny?! How dare you speak such blasphemy...!!"
"Had to tag along 'cause Vivian threw a fit, huh? Tough gig, young miss!"
Lumina went sheet-white, fists balled for a late retort, but
the uncle had already wrapped up his prep, stroking his bushy beard at leisure.
"Passed-down tales, eh... Well, there's one the Upper Village saints'd flip and call heresy."
"Heresy?"
My eyes lit up as I pressed,
and he glanced around like spilling state secrets before whispering low and conspiratorial.
"A single child born from the Goddess's tear."
"......A child?"
At my stunned echo, he nodded deep and swirled the mug's leftover foam with a finger.
"When peace-fattened humans start losing faith, the world on the brink of impure corruption once more."
"......"
"The Goddess's tear falls to earth, birthing one child to save the fools."
He paused, drawing a deep breath.
"That child exists solely to embrace the world's every impurity."
The tale rolled on.
The sloppy drunk act from before? Vanished.
In his eyes, fixed on the mug, a faint, inexplicable reverence glimmered.
"Sucks up people's desires, envy, jealousy... all that emotional sludge, staining itself black."
"Hmm, got it."
"Yeah. Upper Village lot won't touch the legend—spit in disgust, even."
He gave a small, bitter huff.
And toyed idly with the mug's handle.
"A being from the Goddess's tear turning black? Ridiculous, they say."
A child from the Goddess's tear......
Intriguing, sure—but too fairy-tale fluffy to really land.
Born to swallow all worldly filth?
Less savior, more cosmic dumpster.
"But Lower Village folk see it different. Real salvation ain't from praying in fine robes in grand halls."
Lost in my thoughts,
the uncle dropped his voice even graver.
"True salvation sprouts from the dirt we touch daily. That's the devotion we humans offer the Goddess."
Like peering straight through my veil,
he thrust his face close, eyes bulging wide.
My breath caught.
"So we sweat this rugged soil today. Makes that poor kid a shade less black next time 'round."
Lumina's nonstop glares from the side burned—practically blistered.
Without my heads-up earlier, she'd have reamed him good by now.
"Fun story and all... but it's so fairy-tale, dunno what to say, honestly."
"Haha, can't blame ya! Upper scriptures just claim all light beams straight from the Goddess!"
As if he'd seen my reaction coming,
he roared with laughter and slammed back the dregs.
"But listen, Vivian. Even a busted clock's right twice a day—this fairy tale rings true now and then."
His quiet follow-up hit,
and my ears perked rabbit-straight.
"You from up top? You get the drift."
"Drift of what?"
"When peace-fattened humans start losing faith, the world on the brink of impure corruption......"
He thunked the empty mug down again, adding evenly,
"This golden peace? It's quietly eroding human faith, sad to say."
"......?"
"The Papal State's dazzling glory? Might be teetering on the razor's edge."
Eyes too crystalline, too still for booze.
That profound gaze pinned me; I held my breath without thinking.
"Pure faith's lost in the shadow of Holy Power's might. Everyone's blind-obsessed with getting it."