The Reputation Repair Quest (4)
"What brings the young lady to a place like this?"
Am I not allowed to visit a church?
"So now I can't even set foot inside a church? Is that it, dolt priest?"
"N-No. Of course not."
When I pressed the question like an accusation, the priest flustered and waved his hands in denial. Sweat was beading on his forehead — it was clear he wanted nothing to do with me.
Just what had Lucy done to make a priest of a church this grand react that way? The authority wielded by priests of the Main God Church was no small thing. How could the power of clergy belonging to the most influential church on the continent possibly be trivial? According to the game's own descriptions, a priest of the Main God Church carried authority on par with any middling noble.
If even a man like that flinched at the sight of me, then Lucy's misdeeds could never have been light. I didn't need to ask to know what her reputation within the Main God Church looked like.
Would lifting a single Curse of Agra actually solve a problem like this? Would it even come close to offsetting the reputation Lucy had already built for herself?
The moment I realized her rampage hadn't been confined to the estate, my head went numb. What in the world had you been doing all this time, Lucy? You're supposed to sin in moderation if you ever want a chance to clean it up.
Haah.
If she'd cursed out a priest to his face, she'd have pulled the same stunts on nobles of lower rank than her. Come to think of it, she might have mouthed off to people standing above her, too. Maybe that nightmare of getting cussed out at the social ball had its reasons after all.
"Ahem."
The priest cleared his throat, as if to salvage the stiffened atmosphere. He put on a deliberately stern expression, but his image had already crumbled in front of me, so he looked not the least bit dignified.
"So then — what business brings you here?"
No...
"No. The reason I came is the Curse of Agra. Even a dolt priest knows about that curse, right?"
"I do. Is there someone near you suffering from it? If so, our church could—"
I lifted the curse. Please verify it.
"Dolt priest. You don't have to advertise how stupid and hasty you are, so listen to what I'm saying first. I lifted the Curse of Agra. Confirm it."
"...Pardon? You say you lifted the curse?"
When he heard me out, the priest asked again, as if he simply couldn't believe it. And honestly, his disbelief was only natural. Who in their right mind would believe that the delinquent villainess of a count's family had lifted the curse of an evil god? If I were in his shoes, I'd have told her to cut the crap too.
Yes. That's right.
"Haah. You just have to wear your idiocy on your sleeve, don't you? You must be hard of hearing, so I'll say it again. I lifted the Curse of Agra."
"Is that truly the case?"
It's the truth.
"You can't bring yourself to believe the word of a count's daughter? That's a rather brave statement, for a dolt priest."
"No! Not at all! Please wait just a moment. I shall fetch the Bishop at once!"
The priest gave a stiff bow and bolted as if fleeing — only to catch his foot on his own robes midway and go sprawling. He looked pained, but the instant he turned his head and saw me standing there motionless, he scrambled upright and hurried off.
"Child. What on earth have you done?"
That's what I'd like to know.
Sincerely.
Kal...
"Pushover. Did I ever do anything at a church?"
"My lady. Surely you haven't forgotten that incident?"
Kal, who kept his composure at practically all times, wore a visibly unsettled look. That alone told me the scale of whatever I'd done, but I still had to ask.
Yes.
"That's exactly why I'm asking. Answer me."
Kal glanced around at the nuns and lay workers attending to duties within the church, then leaned his head down to my ear and whispered.
"Did you not, in the past, visit a church in the middle of worship and hurl insults at God himself?"
What?
Hold on. Pushover knight.
What did I do?
Insulted God?
As I blinked in disbelief, Kal — flustered though he was — gave me a detailed account of what had happened. The day I barged into a church where people were peacefully attending service and shouted that there was no way any god existed in this world. The times I kept coming back, again and again, heedless of Benedict's warnings, wrecking havoc inside the sanctuary. The time I ground the faces of priests trying to restrain me under my shoe soles, and laughed at them.
"That priest just now was, back in those days—"
Kal. Shut it.
"Pushover. Shut up."
"Yes. Understood."
Unable to bear the endless torrent of Kal's testimony, I half-forcibly clamped a hand over his mouth.
"You truly went about committing acts that, in the old days, would have seen you executed for blasphemy."
"And you committed them without even remembering? I dislike saying this, but — do you perhaps have a problem with your memory?"
...
There was nothing I could say.
Lucy, you absolute lunatic! She pulled stunts in a medieval fantasy world that would get you institutionalized even back in the modern world?! How does that make any sense?! In a world where the church's authority rivaled that of an entire nation, insulting God and the church itself — how was that ever acceptable?!
My head throbbed under the flood of stories I couldn't have imagined. How on earth had Lucy survived until now? Was Benedict simply that extraordinary? It had to be. Without Benedict's towering presence, she'd have been dragged to the guillotine for blasphemy regardless of whose protection she claimed. Come to think of it, that might honestly have been the better outcome — if she'd been executed for blasphemy, I'd never have had to transmigrate into her at all.
Suddenly the priest's panic made perfect sense. A person who'd committed all that, gone silent for years, and then waltzed back into the church? Of course he'd have a meltdown. He probably suspected I'd come to tear the place apart again.
Thinking it over, a panicked reaction was practically a restrained one. Anyone with a vindictive streak would have told me outright that a wretch like me had no business setting foot here.
I covered my mouth with both hands and stared at the floor, then let out a long sigh and took stock of my situation. If I had to sum it up in a single word, screwed fit best.
The Curse of Agra? A reputation quest? This wasn't a problem of that scale. The fact that Lucy was still alive and breathing on this continent was nothing short of a miracle.
So how was I supposed to clean this up? The Main God Church was a faction deeply entwined with the Soul Academy storyline. Lose their support, and countless new obstacles could spring up across every route I planned to clear. I was already in Agra's sights — and now the Main God Church would turn hostile on top of that? That would be an absolute nightmare.
This isn't some concept play in a video game, you know. This is reality. I do not want to live on hard mode.
Think, idiot. Think with that same head that spent twenty-four thousand hours grinding Soul Academy into the ground. What exactly changes if all you do is sit here and despair? There has to be a way.
As I desperately wracked my brain, a single method suddenly surfaced. Come to think of it... my current position might not actually be that hopeless? What if I framed it as someone who once doubted God, but received a divine revelation and repented? ...Yeah. That might actually work.
And I could prove the revelation, too. I'd received a divine blessing. I'd lifted a curse that no ordinary person could. And I was carrying the weapon of an ancient hero believed lost. Any one of those could be dismissed as coincidence — but all three bound together stopped being coincidence and became inevitability. Anyone who looked at me would conclude I'd received God's revelation. The knights of the order were already thinking along those exact lines, weren't they?
Considered from the church's perspective, my repentance cost them nothing, either. Lucy's infamy ran deep, which meant the story of her repenting and turning to God would carry enormous weight. The notorious delinquent lady of the continent, broken of her ways and reborn through faith? That was perfect material for the church to wheel out whenever they preached about God's miracles.
Perfect. Let's go with this. They didn't need to believe I'd changed from the very start. After all, I'd be fighting Agra's underlings from here on out anyway. Once they watched my achievements pile up, they'd come to believe in my repentance naturally. And once I had the church's backing, the world's view of Lucy would soften along with it.
Am I a genius or what? How did I assemble a plan this airtight in so little time?
"Count's daughter. It has been far too long."
I lifted my head at the voice drifting over from across the hall. The face of the man walking toward me through the very center of the church was a familiar one. A completely beardless face crowded with jagged wrinkles, hair gone snow-white, and eyes that seemed to brim with warmth.
I knew this man. He was one of the more prominent NPCs in Soul Academy. Any church-related storyline — enemy or ally alike — and this old gentleman was guaranteed to appear. How could I not know him?
The old man who would one day ascend to the rank of cardinal of the Main God Church and become the head of its hardline faction. The man users collectively nicknamed the Bonehead Priest. Beneath that kindly exterior, a prickly soul hugging a hedgehog to his chest.
Johann Vieira.
Why is this old fossil here?! Shouldn't he be off at the Holy Land of the Main God Church, sweating over his faction-building around this point in the timeline?!
"It is the first time since you splashed water in my face, my lady. Which makes this our first meeting in roughly a year."
The moment Johann laid eyes on me, he smiled and served up a remark with an edge honed razor-sharp.
Uh. Um. I am terribly sorry, Bishop.
Did I really splash water on your face, Your Excellency? Goodness, I suppose something must have come over me that day. Could you perhaps chalk it up to a temporary lapse of mind, and forgive me with your boundless benevolence?
I chattered this nonsense out inside my own head while studying the bishop's eyes. His gaze remained as gentle as ever. To put it another way — he showed not the slightest intention of revealing what he actually thought.
"Priest Pelkin tells me you lifted the Curse of Agra. Is that true?"
Yes. That is correct!
"Must I truly make you say everything twice, Bonehead Bishop?"
"Haha. My apologies. It is simply a tale rather difficult to believe."
Even after being insulted by a child young enough to be his granddaughter, Johann didn't let so much as a flicker of his smile slip. It made him look for all the world like a warm-hearted old man indulging a child's tantrum — but no. I know better. Behind that face is an old fossil running cold, precise profit-and-loss calculations.
Heh. Fuck. I'm doomed. To push my plan forward, that meant I had to win over this old man. Wasn't the difficulty rating a little high? At this rate I wouldn't just need a silver tongue — I'd need one that could tear lightning out of the sky!
"Shall we move inside and speak in detail? We can hardly keep you standing out here forever, my lady."
Thank you kindly for your consideration.
"Keeping me standing this whole time, and now you play at being considerate? How very boneheaded of you."
I laughed along, matching Johann's smile. Ah, dammit. Why is the Mesugaki skill being such a colossal pain in the ass today, of all days?!