What Did I Just Hear? (3)
Hm.
Had he gone deaf just now?
Because it sounded like he'd just been asked to become the adopted son of the Papal family.
Isaac wore a smile that said he doubted anything in this world could sound more horrifying.
“My apologies…. It's just that my body grew so recently, I think my ears may be bad and I misheard you……”
“I said become the adopted son of House Berith.”
“…Right, that's what I thought? That you told me to become the adopted son of that trash-heap of a Papal family……”
“You heard me correctly.”
Son of a—. So it was real……?
Isaac's pupils trembled violently.
Confusion… no, this was pure fury.
So this was that kind of feeling. The kind where a scummy company that withheld your wages and worked you around the clock comes crawling back after you quit with 'we can't seem to manage without you,' offering a raise—and the raise turns out to be a whopping ten extra bucks.
In other words, he felt utterly disgusted.
What is this? An insult?
Was this some newly developed slander tactic designed to keep the Blue Faith in check?
And yet Cardinal Verith seemed dead serious.
“This is no trick. I am sincerely asking you to leave House Eshua and become an adopted son of our House Berith.”
Isaac's expression grew stranger still.
Why, of all people, you?
Blue and Gold. Weren't House Eshua and House Berith at the point where spitting in each other's direction felt like a waste of saliva?
Weren't they mortal enemies?
It could be an attempt to take him hostage, sure—but for that, a simple study-abroad arrangement would have sufficed.
You'd really pick a fight with Eshua and dirty your own reputation in everyone's eyes for it?
That meant this was no idle offer.
But if that was the case, wasn't it all the more bizarre? Why would they do this?
The only thing I can think of is that business at the Ordination Ceremony.
His partner-god summoning result had been… a Lower God, they'd said.
So they're calling my knockoff ass the Saint?
No. These callous bastards who looked at demons like insects—would any of them care about a label like that?
Or did the Pope's grandson blab? That I can use the Pope's techniques?
A dozen hypotheses surfaced, but Isaac shut his eyes tight.
No. Their intentions didn't matter.
“If you've come with a deal, then lay the terms on the table. What exactly do I gain from becoming your adopted son?”
What mattered was the price.
And that, apparently, delighted Cardinal Verith.
So that's a first—someone his age talking terms instead of just whining yes or no or why.
The moment the Papal family extended a hand, there were plenty of parents who tripped over themselves to ship their kids off as adopted sons. And this was a boy of one of the Five Great Ducal Houses, pride and all.
Cardinal Verith restored the shattered door with a holy art as he spoke.
“I can provide everything the Blue Faith cannot. The Papal family effectively handles everything in the Holy Empire. I imagine you've found the Blue Faith lacking in many ways.”
A scornful laugh burst from Isaac's lips.
What's this? The Papal family is only this much?
Pathetic.
“House Eshua lacks for nothing either.”
“I hear Eshua is trying to lock you away at home.”
Son of a—, you pervert? Why are you eavesdropping on other people's family business?
“Well, with that freewheeling personality of yours, I suppose life in the Blue Faith would be difficult.”
You're just calling my personality a damn mess with extra steps, aren't you?
“The Blue Faith is a religion of suppression and endurance, one that demands you kill your own heart. Living there, you'd be hemmed in at every turn. Even now, they mean to cage a child who should be running wild for years to come inside some backwater monastery—tell me, does that make any sense to you?”
That part was true, at least.
The Eshua lot were the most insufferable people in the world.
“In exchange, this side guarantees zero interference in anything you do. And that's not all. Whatever you wish to accomplish, we will fund and support it.”
Isaac snorted.
This wasn't even a 'come here and you can play with any toy you like' pitch.
Soon Isaac's eyes slanted sharply upward.
“Unless you're offering to push me all the way to head of House Berith, I don't think it'll work.”
“!”
Even his speech had gone blunt.
Cardinal Verith blinked for a moment as if doubting his own ears, but Isaac was already leaning back with his hands propped on his hips, sneering.
Support? What support, that crap?
If he became head of the house in the first place, he wouldn't need any of that petty support—everything would be his to command.
And right now, the only person in House Eshua who could take the seat of family head was him. Did they have any idea how much his grandfather doted on him?
Sure, the old man tried to lock him up at home, made him read the Holy Scriptures to siphon off the Skeleton Demon King's mana, and at the Ordination Ceremony had tried to blast his own grandson away alongside the Demon King. He curses out the Skeleton Demon King to his face at the drop of a hat, too. But anyway—he dotes on him.
Probably……?
But at Isaac's casual disrespect, Cardinal Verith's gaze sharpened with displeasure.
“I hear you covet the seat of the Saint. Which would mean you covet the Papal throne itself.”
“!”
Cardinal Verith flashed his eyes, as if asking whether a brat like him actually believed he could ever ascend that seat.
“Let me make one thing clear: no one but Gold may become Pope.”
“I heard there's a divine revelation to raise a Saint to the Papal throne.”
“A revelation is merely a revelation. Interpreting it is the duty of servants. Do you truly think the priests would cheerfully overturn thousands of years of tradition?”
The annoying one here seems to be you, not the priests.
But well, he understood.
Entrenched power hated nothing more than a drastic shift in tradition.
“The Pope is the head who must command all Five Faiths. Even if a Blue man like you became Pope, do you believe the other faiths would swear loyalty to you?”
The man was saying the Saint selection itself meant nothing.
“Knowing that, wouldn't converting to Gold better serve your future, should you set your sights on the Papal seat?”
Isaac smiled coldly.
This arrogant bastard is taking me for a fool.
“Heh. Tempting as it may be, I am a man of the Blue Faith. If you think I'd be swayed by something like that……”
“I'll add a plot of land deeded in your name, territories, a vault stuffed to the brim with gold, personal soldiers of the Gold Faith registered under your name, a mansion in the capital—not the countryside—for your sole use, villas in every region should you want them, and the rights of direct-line succession on top.”
“…I might consider it. Or I might not.”
These bastards, fighting dirty with money against money.
Isaac, weak to cash as ever, went wide-eyed. Cardinal Verith, looking pleased, immediately reached for the documents.
“I'm glad we could strike a fine deal. In that case, we'll process your affiliation right away. And say nothing to Eshua yet.”
“Sure thing. Not a word from me.”
At Isaac's oddly ambiguous smile, Cardinal Verith flinched. In the same instant, realizing something, the Cardinal strode toward the door and wrenched it open hard enough to tear it from its hinges.
BANG!
“GYAAH!”
Someone had been eavesdropping outside the door.
None other than Shuri.
“…A-ah!”
Sent sprawling on his rear, Shuri froze in terror. The moment his eyes met Cardinal Verith's, he turned white as a corpse.
Oh my. Isn't our Shuri just magnificent. Truly magnificent.
But well, he understood.
Cardinal Verith did look rather like a bloodsucking vampire. The man had that whole Count Dracula thing going on—the students at the seminary went into fits of convulsions just from catching sight of him.
“Shuri.”
“AAAHH! I heard nothing at all!”
Shuri scrambled to his feet and bolted for his life.
That's it, that's it. Run like that, burn that bright burst of life force, and draw the Cardinal's attention away—good work, soldier. Much appreciated for joining the plan to inflate my market value.
Once Shuri had vanished, the Cardinal let out a long sigh.
“Well, no matter. What matters is your will. Even if it reaches Eshua's ears……”
“Hold on. I said I'd consider it. I never said I'd go.”
“…What?”
Cardinal Verith's eyes went wide, but Isaac simply kept smiling, cool as ice.
Truthfully, he had no other choice.
You think the Papal family is insane enough to actually want me?
And for good reason. Isaac knew better than anyone just how thoroughly the Papal family despised the impure, how obsessively they purged anything that wasn't pristine.
With that obsession and that arrogance, the Papal family had once swatted down everything Isaac held dear like so many insects.
“For your sake, I would throw away this life without hesitation.”
“Isaac, if it's you and me together, we can sever this shackle for good.”
One of them had been killed for being a demon. The other, for the crime of simply associating with one. They had murdered their own allies.
And now they wanted to adopt—of all things—a child carrying the Demon King's mana?
Even a passing dog would laugh at that!
They'd either squeeze a hundred percent of the use out of me and toss me aside, or just lock me away in some corner of the Papal family and leave me to rot.
And at the very end, they'd pin some fabricated crime on him and put him to death.
That was how those people had always been. Well, it was what their ancestors had done, so he had no intention of punishing the descendants for the sins of the past—but did the Papal family look the least bit lovable to him?
Besides, the Gold Faith's holy arts were ones that rejected mana outright. Who knew what harm they might do to a body housing a magic core?
If you want me, you crawl here yourselves and beg. Wherever you like.
And so Isaac's eyes curved into a lethal crescent.
“I would rather die than go to the Papal family.”
At those words, for some reason, Cardinal Verith flinched.
“Rather… die?”
“Yes. Rather die.”
The Cardinal finally burst out laughing.
After that laugh, Isaac flinched hard. Because Cardinal Verith's entire atmosphere had changed.
His eyes were no longer the usual cold gaze—holy power laced with killing intent, the kind that wanted to tear Isaac limb from limb, was leaking out of him.
“How can you wear a face that mirrors your mother's so exactly, and say the very same words?”
“……!”
Isaac shuddered.
Dammit, did I step on a landmine?
No, seriously—that father I've never even met. You stole someone's fiancée, did you? STOLE her?
Now your kid's in a bind because of it! Damn it all!
“How unexpected. From your behavior, I assumed you had no particular affection for Eshua.”
I've got more love for them than for your lot, you miserable sectarians.
“My apologies, but the Blue Faith is cleaner than Gold.”
Because they're pushovers. It's lovely.
But Cardinal Verith only gave a hollow laugh. There wasn't a shred of mercy left in it.
“Save me your insolence. One word from me, right now, and you are expelled from the clergy permanently—you will never become a priest in this lifetime. Which means no Papal throne, and not even the seat of the Saint. No—I could use the Pope's authority to bar you from ever setting foot in the Holy Empire again. Do you understand all that, and still babble like this?”
It was a threat. Comply, or they would eliminate his every means of climbing in the first place.
And in this Holy Empire, there was no one who did not fear permanent excommunication. Their assets were seized, every facility barred to them, and in the end they were cast out of the Empire entirely.
No noble, however exalted, could escape it. Even seasoned bishops had wept and begged, anything but that one punishment. How much more terrifying, then, for a mere child.
But what burst from the child's mouth was a snort.
“Then I'll just make a country that needs neither priests nor a Pope. Problem solved.”
“……!”
Cardinal Verith stared at Isaac as if asking what on earth he'd just heard.
But Isaac, far from trembling at the threat, was pinning the Cardinal down with his gaze alone.
“It was strange to begin with, a country with two heads. It's going to be my country anyway—having another head on it would just piss me off.”
“……!”
Cardinal Verith grasped the meaning of Isaac's words at once. He couldn't mean toppling the Imperial family—so he was saying he would obliterate the Holy See itself.
The Cardinal, instantly sensing the danger, opened his mouth to speak—
“I'd need at least this much courage to catch the Skeleton Demon King, wouldn't I?”
“!”
Isaac laughed like an innocent little child, as if he hadn't just been spitting provocations a heartbeat ago.
“I'll pretend I never heard this proposal. That would be best for Your Eminence as well, wouldn't it?”
Why, you little—?
“I wasn't even interested at first. But thanks to you, I've become just the tiniest bit curious.”
There was no need to ask what he'd become curious about.
“The Ordination Ceremony, isn't it?”
“!”
“What on earth could make the Papal family sneak around behind everyone's backs—and go so far as to try adopting the direct heir of their sworn enemy? At this point, I simply must find out what it is I'm carrying.”
“……!”
Isaac had grasped it perfectly: he possessed something so valuable that even the Papal family would lunge for it.
And that the hilt of that sword pointed not at the Papal family—but at himself.
“The people of the Empire will be terribly curious too. And once they learn what it is… I suppose I'll be able to do something to the Papal family.”
You can do something to them? This brat… is he actually threatening the Papal family right now?
“Though the threatening was your doing first, Your Eminence.”
Has this boy learned mind-reading?
The Cardinal was utterly astounded.
He'd thought that as a child of the Saintess's line, the boy might amount to a tiger cub at best. Forget a tiger—wasn't this thing practically a monster?
But Isaac stopped at the door, one hand on it, and turned.
“Oh, and one more thing. Almost forgot.”
“?”
“I'll consider the hush-money and compensation for emotional distress caused by your threats as ten chests of gold.”
“Heh.”
This lunatic.
As if insulting the Papal family weren't enough—what? Ten chests of gold?
“Isn't what you should be saying right now something else entirely?”
“Ah……”
Something seemed to dawn on Isaac, and he bowed his head with an air of profound apology.
“I'd be much obliged if you could deliver them within three days.”