Digging Into the Past (4)
When it came to the Church's dirty secrets, to the fact that she was an artificially made saint, to the fact that every one of her childhood memories had been fabricated — Phoebe was never supposed to find out. Not yet.
Even if she did stumble onto the truth, it should have been a matter of a year or two down the road, when Phoebe's talent had blossomed to the point where she could crush the Church's brainwashing underfoot. By then, even if Phoebe grasped every last fact, the Church wouldn't have dared make a move against her. A truly awakened saintess, her presence grown so immense that even the Church itself found her a burden to handle.
But that wasn't now.
Right now, Phoebe was still weak. A girl who doubted herself, doubted her god — who faltered even in the act of purifying the boss of the Academy Dungeon — was a person the Church could erase whenever it pleased. No matter how vast the halo she carried might be, what good was it if the space beneath it was empty? One wrong step, and an "unfortunate accident" was bound to happen.
And so Phoebe had to stay silent. Even if this situation violated everything she believed in, she had to keep her mouth shut — until the day came when the Church could no longer touch her.
And right now, I was the one who had to persuade her to do exactly that.
Can I actually pull this off?
I had no real confidence that I could. The first problem staring me in the face was, naturally, the mesugaki skill's speech pattern. Whatever words I chose to say, I had no way of predicting how they'd get twisted once they passed through the mesugaki filter. Depending on the situation, the meaning could be warped beyond recognition entirely.
Well. Fine — that much was a problem I could solve if I just handled the mesugaki tone skillfully. But there was a bigger problem still remaining.
Phoebe's personality.
In the Soul Academy community, not a single soul denied that Phoebe was a genuine saintess. That held true even though anyone bearing such a grandiose title inevitably drew their share of suspicion. Which is to say — Phoebe was not simply a kind-hearted girl. A merely good person cannot be called a saintess.
For an ordinary believer or a priest, being good might be enough. But a saintess is different. The face of the Church, the proxy of God — such a person has to be more. They need unshakable conviction, and a stubbornness that will walk into any hardship, any adversity, for the sake of doing what is right.
The Phoebe in the game was a person who possessed all of that. Would a girl who denounced the Church in the middle of the capital, fully aware her own life was at stake, lack conviction? Impossible.
It's true that the Phoebe of today differs quite a bit from the Phoebe in the game. But I don't believe her core has changed. Right now she's playing along and pretending to know nothing, simply because I — the one who saved her — told her to wait. But if my attempt at persuasion failed, Phoebe would probably...
"Don't worry so much."
I'd been habitually running worst-case scenarios, and Grandpa spoke up in a voice stripped of all mischief.
"Did you not prepare so diligently yesterday? Everything will go well."
Usually he's nothing but a shameless nag of an old man, but... yeah. For once, I could glimpse the hero Ruel underneath, and it was actually reassuring.
Not that I want to admit it. If I did, his shoulders would climb up to his ears and he'd start spouting nonsense.
That was preparation? All I remember is getting yelled at.
"Did you forget how hard I racked my brain for you?!"
Yes! So just give me good advice when the time comes!
"...Haaah. Girl, please. In this day and age, being a fool is not a compliment."
Oh, so there was a time when calling someone a fool WAS a compliment, was there?
"..."
I fired back with a laugh, obviously joking — but Grandpa stayed silent.
Wait. Seriously?! There was actually an era where being called stupid was a compliment?!
"Girl. Do you know why chivalry was invented?"
No?
"To plead with the thick-skulled knights who lived like orcs and trolls to please, please, use their heads for once."
Deep beneath Grandpa's words, spoken of that distant, turbulent past, simmered a very real fury.
Finding Phoebe at the Academy wasn't particularly difficult. With that beautiful face, that eye-catching figure, that angelic personality, she was treated as the Academy's idol. Wherever she went, she was surrounded by people, and anyone you asked could point you to her immediately.
It's similar to my situation, but the exact opposite. My notoriety is so colossal that nobody dares approach me — but my looks are distinctive enough that a quick "where'd Lucy go?" gets an instant answer.
How do I know that? Because that's exactly how Frey hunted me down last time. "Everyone seems very interested in you," she'd said, expressionlessly. Her blank face had been pretty irritating, honestly.
Today, too, Phoebe was surrounded by a crowd. Commoner and noble alike, clergy and unbeliever alike, young and old — none of it mattered. Phoebe was the emulsifier who could bind every last one of them together.
And I'm the centrifuge. I can send every last one of them scattering.
Everyone? Would you mind stepping aside?
"You heojep trash. What are you vermin doing, swarming around like bugs? I'll say it nicely once — get lost."
The moment the words left my mouth, the people at the outer edge began retreating one by one. The first time I witnessed this scene, I was deeply shaken. Now, I could understand the horrified expressions on their faces. Anyone reckless enough to touch the wrong nerve would get run over without mercy — best to steer clear.
As people scrambled backward, terrified of so much as brushing my sleeve, a few still stood their ground in front of Phoebe.
Do they actually think I'd hurt Phoebe? That's so unfair. Seriously. I don't know what kind of person the Lucy Alrn you've heard about is, but the me standing here is a very reasonable person.
It's not like I've never worked alongside Phoebe before, and word already got around that I helped her recently — why on earth would I do something bad to her now?
And besides, hello? I'm a paladin! A paladin! I belong to the Church of the Chief God, same as Phoebe!
Would someone like that do anything to a saintess?
Huh?
"Everyone. Please step aside."
"But, Saintess—"
"Don't worry. Lady Alrn isn't the kind of person you all need to fear."
They'd been glaring at me with wary, hostile eyes, but every ounce of that resentment died down the moment Phoebe spoke. Slipping past the acquaintances who'd been shielding her, Phoebe came toward me wearing her usual spotless smile.
"Good afternoon, Lady Alrn."
Good afternoon, Phoebe.
"Hey there, heojep saintess."
The moment "heojep saintess" slipped out of my mouth, the murmuring around us grew louder. This was hardly a first-time occurrence, so I didn't pay the gossip the slightest attention.
But Phoebe was different. She let her gaze drift away from me for a moment, looked around at the crowd, and smiled.
"Everyone? Unkind words aren't very nice."
"Ah — um, sorry."
"I'm sorry..."
"Forgive us, Saintess."
At Phoebe's gentle warning, the crowd began cooing about how merciful and gracious she was. Is this what a difference in daily conduct looks like? If that had been me, I'd have gotten absolutely torn apart behind my back.
Speaking of which — didn't Phoebe go just a little stone-faced right there? Was that my imagination?
Hmm. Yeah. Must be my imagination. There's no way Phoebe would make a face like that.
"I apologize, Lady Alrn. There was a bit of a commotion."
It's fine, Phoebe. Actually, more importantly—
"Forget it. Heojep people oinking at me is a daily occurrence anyway. More importantly, heojep saintess — got a minute? There's something I want to talk about, just the two of us."
"Yes, of course."
At my declaration that I wanted to speak with her alone, the surrounding crowd shot us looks laced with concern — but Phoebe had just spoken up for me, so they held their silence.
Once I'd brought Phoebe back to my dorm room, the Face-Connoisseur Fox was sprawled on my bed, fast asleep. That thing is STILL sleeping. Just because its outer shell turned into a baby fox, is its behavior going baby-fox too?
Well. That was a joke — I knew exactly why the little thing was sleeping. The Face-Con Fox had already weakened itself manifesting an avatar in the first place. Then, on top of that, it went and contracted with power-starved little me, and in doing so lost most of what strength it had left. It had no choice but to conserve every last scrap of power for when it truly mattered. That's why the Face-Con Fox was perpetually asleep, like a device stuck in power-saving mode.
For my part, it wasn't a bad arrangement. Whatever's inside it gets on my nerves a bit, but at the end of the day it's a cute fox to look at. Not bad as an ornament.
Not today, though. Phoebe and I were about to talk about gods and the Church, just the two of us, and I couldn't leave the thing lying around to listen.
I pinched the sleeping fox by the scruff of its neck, and it cracked its eyes open, sluggish.
"Mmmnh? Whaaat..."
Then I picked the thing up and hurled it out the door. Leaving it blinking in bewitlement outside, I locked the door — and found Phoebe staring blankly at the spot where the fox had just been.
"Was that, perhaps..."
That's not the important issue right now.
"Whatever you're fretting about, heojep saintess, it's none of your business."
"...I see."
Yeah, what you're imagining is probably right, but don't worry about it. That thing is an even more spectacularly heojep fox than you think. It already knows how to deal with me now, so even if it pulls pervert stunts, nothing actually happens.
I seated Phoebe on the bed, pulled the Scroll of Silence from my inventory, and activated it. From this moment on, this room was a perfect sealed chamber. Now I could curse out the Church, trash-talk the Academy professors behind their backs, or even mention just how incompetent, perverted, pedophilic, and garbage-tier the heojep Chief God was, and—
Ah, no, that last one's not happening. Retaliation is guaranteed. That guy is genuinely, frighteningly petty.
Do you know what I got as the reward for clearing the "Dig Into the Past" quest this time?
[Tip: If you call Benedict "Papa," he'll approve almost anything you ask for.]
SOME USELESS GARBAGE, THAT'S WHAT!
Isn't this too much?! The risk is disgustingly huge and the return is THIS?! Okay, fine, I suppose I did poke at him a bit, comparing him unfavorably to the Evil Gods — but he actually took it to heart and held a grudge?! What kind of Chief God does that?! A complete bottom-tier man! No wait, a bottom-tier god!
"This is the Scroll of Silence."
The fact that she recognized the scroll the instant she saw it meant she knew exactly what its effect was. Good. That saved me a long-winded explanation.
"Then let us proceed as we discussed yesterday."
Yes.
After a silent deep breath, I dragged a chair over and sat down directly across from Phoebe. Her gaze bored into me — devouring, dead straight. I crossed my legs and met it with all the composure I could fake.
First of all—
"First things first, heojep saintess. That heojep little collection of knowledge you're carrying? I already know all of it."
That Phoebe was a saintess manufactured by the Church. That the upper leadership of the Church of the Chief God was rotten to the core. Every last scrap of the knowledge she'd gained when her memories returned — I laid it all out on the table first, before she could say a word.
I'd expected her to panic. Instead, Phoebe listened to my entire spiel with a composure that caught me off guard. As if it wasn't strange at all for me to know these things.
Grandpa! Her reaction is completely different from the plan?!
"Wh— what of it? Is it not easier to hold a conversation with someone who accepts things readily?"
But—!
When you've prepared a whole branching dialogue tree and your conversation partner goes off-script, it throws you for a loop, okay?! Even as I whined at Grandpa in my head, I finished saying everything that needed saying.
Phoebe, who had listened to me in silence up to that very last word, closed her eyes. Then she drew a deep breath, opened them again — and looked straight at me with those vivid golden eyes as she spoke.
"Do you know all of that, Lady Alrn, because you are Armadi's Apostle?"
...Huh?
Yeah?
No, wait. Um. Phoebe?
That's supposed to be my line?