The Lion Strolling Through the Streets
Even in the early hours of dawn, a considerable crowd had gathered inside the Grand Cathedral, heads bowed as they offered prayers to their gods.
Ordinarily, each worshipper would have gone to the chapel dedicated to their own deity. But this was the period of the Saintess election — a special season, almost a festival in its own right, when every believer was permitted to gather in the Grand Cathedral and petition their god for guidance and truth.
The voices of the faithful rose and rolled through the vast space even at this hour. Convinced that a louder prayer meant a firmer faith — or that their god would be more likely to hear them — they competed with one another, their voices climbing higher and higher.
And moving among them, eyes closed, offering her outstretched hands to those who knelt with bowed heads, was a single nun.
None of those present knew who the woman in the black veil truly was. Still, not one of them refused her intercession or her touch.
"May all things be done according to Your will."
"Ah… I believe."
The nun's voice was exquisitely sweet, and even beneath the veil her beauty could not be hidden. It wrapped around the worshippers' hearts and bodies alike, filling their chests with a warmth so complete it could only be called love.
"It's all right. Keep praying. I will always be right beside you."
A soft flush of pink peeked from between her lips each time she spoke, as though something living inside her mouth were trying to show itself. But this was a house of worship, and it was the hour of prayer. Every eye was shut, every pair of hands clasped — so no one saw it.
"I am the ideal Saintess you all long for. The one who will always cradle you in love, hold you close, and caress you."
The nun went so far as to draw a worshipper's head against her chest and hold them tightly while she continued to whisper. When she finally released them, the faithful would turn, as if entranced, and beg the Goddess of Love for that same deep and precious affection.
When the dawn prayers ended, every worshipper bowed deeply to the nun waiting at the entrance, tears of gratitude streaming down their faces.
"Because of you, Sister, I feel as though I finally understand what divine love truly is."
"Thank you. Truly, thank you. I've been struggling so much lately… I feel like I can keep going now."
"When I grow up, I want to become a nun just like you. Someone who embraces everyone with love and leads them the way you do."
The nun said nothing. She simply smiled from behind the veil and saw them off.
Once the last of them had gone and she had closed the chapel doors, the nun made her way toward one of the rooms assigned to the Saintess candidates.
The emblem of Aphrodite, Goddess of Love and Beauty, was painted on the door — the same mark that was etched upon her tongue.
Inside, three nuns knelt on the floor. Under ordinary circumstances, no one but Aphrodite's own nun and the priest who had accompanied her would have been permitted to enter. She, however, removed her veil without the slightest hesitation and tossed it toward one of them.
"There's your treat, you dogs."
The nun of Zeus — widely regarded as the strongest contender in the current election — wore an expression of pure rapture as she pressed the veil to her face, inhaling and licking at its scent. The nuns of the other gods scrambled for it with equal hunger, and before long they were fighting over the scrap of cloth. Aphrodite's nun simply laughed and perched on the edge of the bed to watch, as though she had set beasts upon one another for sport.
"Honestly. In the end they always end up crawling and begging to be loved — and yet at first they put on such airs."
"Ahh, please love me!"
"Lady Mikaela!"
"More! Give me more of your love!"
Abandoning the veil, now soaked in their own saliva, the nuns rushed straight to Mikaela and prostrated themselves. She crossed her legs and extended one foot. The others immediately began sucking on her toes with reverent care.
"That's right. Nothing thrills quite like watching nuns crawl at your feet."
A soft pink light seeped from Mikaela's mouth. Her words took shape in the air, writhing like worms, then crawled into the nuns' ears and nostrils and sank into their brains. The nuns only begged for love more desperately still.
"Get lost, you pathetic bitches."
As if she had been waiting for the moment, Mikaela kicked their faces and began stomping on them the way one crushes ants. Within seconds the room was spattered with blood. Some of the nuns had torn ears or broken teeth, yet none of them seemed to care.
"Haa… haa…"
The stress of having to embrace all those worshippers drained away at once. Mikaela changed her clothes and stepped out into the city.
With this power, the citizens will have no choice but to support me.
Four days remained until the vote. Only high-ranking clergy — bishops and paladins — were eligible to cast ballots, but even they paid close attention to public opinion. Faced with an overwhelming tide of popular support, their votes would naturally flow her way.
Or else how do they plan to handle the riots?
History itself recorded instances of mass assemblies and protests when a nun who enjoyed the full backing of the people failed to become Saintess. And if no one else started one, she would.
Humming a hymn of praise to her goddess under her breath, Mikaela set off into the streets.
"…You did well, Sis."
"Huff… huff…!"
Having finally reached the streets of Vatian, I offered Dyna my sincere thanks. She, however, looked in no condition to accept them.
"You should rest for today. I'll move on my own."
"B-but…"
"Sis, you just covered a distance that would take a carriage several days — in a single day. Carrying me, no less. You need to rest."
Dark circles of exhaustion ringed her eyes, and sweat ran down her face as though she had been doused with water. Knowing full well how hard she had pushed herself, I wanted her to stop.
"They know our faces at the academy lodging. They'll let you stay. The headmaster already told them we were coming."
Even after all that, she still couldn't shake her worry that her little brother would go and do something dangerous alone. I braced myself for a bit of arguing — but an unexpected voice cut through our conversation.
"Hello. Is this your first time in Vatian? Are the two of you siblings?"
Crimson hair, eyes of the same vivid red. Her skin was pale enough to call a vampire to mind, yet the clothes she wore were those of a nun.
I had always heard that nuns preferred to keep their distance from men, but a face this lovely was bound to attract them whether she liked it or not. Taste was subjective, of course, but if one were asked to name the most beautiful girl at the academy, Rin would take the most votes — and this woman could stand beside her without shame. The quality of her beauty was different from Rin's, yet it still turned heads on the street.
"Wow, you're so beautiful!"
Dyna forgot her exhaustion entirely and blurted out the compliment. The nun did not seem displeased; she cupped her own cheeks with both hands in a gesture of thanks.
"My name is Mikaela. So many visitors have been coming to Vatian lately that I've been doing a little street ministry."
"Ah… I'm sorry, but I don't really follow any particular god, so…"
Dyna declined with an awkward smile and jabbed me in the side with her elbow, clearly signaling that we should move on.
"…"
I stayed where I was, staring straight at the woman's face.
Dyna apologized for my rudeness; the nun named Mikaela waved it off with practiced ease. But the reason I couldn't look away had nothing to do with her appearance.
Mikaela.
If my memory served, her full name was Mikaela Etram — the nun who would win this Saintess election and become the next Saintess of the Frisia Kingdom.
So she's keeping her candidacy hidden while she works.
Candidates were forbidden from revealing their identities until voting day, so her current approach made perfect sense.
If it's her, she should be trustworthy enough…
In my previous life she had been revered as the Saintess. Praise for her good works and for a character as beautiful as her face had reached even as far as the Demon World Forest where I had lived.
"Would you help us?"
And so I asked her for help without hesitation.
What the hell is wrong with this bastard?!
Guiding the two of them toward the Grand Cathedral, Mikaela found herself more rattled than she had been in twenty years of life.
The McLane siblings had suddenly asked for her help, then claimed the street was no place to talk and requested an escort to the cathedral. She had agreed, all the while slipping the pink mark of her tongue into them. She had no interest in wasting time on useless business; once they were under her control, she intended to ditch them at once.
It had worked well enough on the older sister, Dyna.
The younger brother, however, was another matter entirely.
"Hm?"
Even after taking the full force of her power, the man merely scratched at his ear as if it itched. She had no choice but to withdraw the influence she had placed on Dyna as well — she could not risk Daniel noticing anything strange about his sister.
What is he?! What the hell is this guy?!
While a flustered Mikaela silently cursed in language no nun should ever use, there was one other woman equally unsettled by Daniel McLane.
Seated on a bench as still as a dead mouse was a woman in a black dress.
Commissioned by the First Prince to find the killer of Demeter's nun, she had judged Mikaela the most likely culprit and had been tailing her. The moment an opening appeared, she meant to seize the woman, interrogate her, and extract the truth.
What in the world is that monster?
She could not tell whether the danger came from the sister or the brother. But in all her long years with the Execution Squad, her sixth sense had never blared a warning this violently.
The message it delivered was simple and absolute.
If they notice you, you die.
No variables. No chance of survival. Just death.
And so even Lady — who usually wore an easy smile — broke into a cold sweat and did her best to look like nothing more than a citizen out for a stroll.
"Haaah."
Daniel, the very person who had set both women trembling for all the wrong reasons, merely yawned.