Martyr, Murderer, and Demagogue
I'd heard the rumors about Vatian's Grand Cathedral more than a few times. A building steeped in centuries of history and tradition, soaked through with the blood and tears of countless saints.
It had been painted over white, sure—but the yellowed grime and stains still visible in every corner made one thing clear. These people hadn't simply spent their lives kneeling quietly and bowing their heads to God.
I heard they play quite the game of political chicken with the royal family, too.
When it came to politics like this, I was completely ignorant—I'd only ever lived in the Demon World Forest—so I couldn't really form a judgment. But honestly, the thought that crossed my mind was: do they really need to power-struggle over religion and politics, both supposedly the will of the gods?
Each had its own purpose, its own nature—and yet they fought over them.
Watching it, I was reminded of something Senior Aldfrig from the fourth year had told me back when I was doing theater. He said actors who perform plays and singers who perform songs quietly compare themselves to each other and harbor a sense of rivalry.
At the time I'd asked what he meant by that. The differences between theater and song went without saying. If you forced a similarity, both had an audience in front of them—but the points of emotional impact they delivered, their roles, the atmospheres they created were completely different, weren't they?
Even so, Aldfrig had shrugged and answered that despite the differences, actors and singers saw each other as rivals within the larger framework.
How is this any different?
Frisia wasn't even a theocracy like the dragonkin. The kingdom's politics and its religion were clearly separate domains—so why did they insist on fighting in the same ring?
Well, how would a sherpa who just scrounges around forests understand the thoughts of high-and-mighty people?
Without overthinking it, I shared my honest first impression of the Grand Cathedral with Michaela.
"What's that?"
At first I'd thought it was a banner hanging over the cathedral, but it was just a blank white cloth like an empty canvas.
Michaela glanced at me, smiled faintly, and explained.
"It's a screen—a newly introduced device. On voting day, the Saintess candidates will use it to declare to the citizens what they've realized during their month in Vatian, and their mindset as a Saintess."
"Oh?"
"They used to set up a massive platform in front of the Grand Cathedral, but construction took time, and sometimes believers of other gods would act violently, so they switched to this method."
Certainly, this way the Saintess candidates could sit safely in place and proclaim how well they suited the role.
"Besides the Grand Cathedral, screens are scheduled to be installed in about seventeen other buildings for the Saintess election. So citizens can watch no matter where they are."
Wow.
I hadn't known about this. Even ten years ago, technology had advanced more than I'd thought. Here I was, someone who'd seen the world ten years in the future, marveling at technology from ten years prior. I felt a little self-conscious.
"But will Miss Dina be all right?"
"Yes, there's lodging nearby, so there's nothing to worry about."
Michaela kept glancing anxiously down the path Dina had taken. We'd finally managed to send the thoroughly exhausted older sister off to the hotel where the academy students were staying.
As we were about to enter the Grand Cathedral, still marveling at the screen—
A noise like something scraping in my ears, and the screen lit up. I hadn't expected to see it activate this quickly.
"Archbishop?"
With no Saintess currently, the man who could be called the highest authority of the Grand Cathedral—an elderly-looking man addressed as Archbishop. He made the sign of the cross once, then opened his mouth in a regretful voice.
"Citizens, I have something to announce regarding this Saintess election."
"Hmm?"
People began gathering in an instant, but since I'd been about to enter the cathedral, I luckily got to watch from the front row with Michaela.
"Unfortunately, of the seven Saintess candidates, two have stepped down from their positions today."
The citizens immediately began murmuring. What was this about? Which goddess's nuns were they? People shouted for answers.
Real-time, huh?
Perhaps hearing the commotion outside, the Archbishop immediately revealed the two nuns to quiet the crowd.
"They are the two nuns who serve the Goddess Demeter and the God Helios."
Both gods had many believers, so demands to explain the reason spread like a wave of outrage. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was deeply unnatural. The citizens were acting roughly, as if they'd rehearsed it.
"......"
Beside me, Michaela had her head bowed low, muttering something. I was about to ask what she was doing, but the Archbishop's speech continued.
"I had originally intended to end it here. But as one who bears the title of Archbishop and serves God, I believed that for the sake of Vatian's justice, I simply could not remain silent."
The kindly-looking Archbishop slammed the desk roughly and cried out.
"People! The truth is, the nun of Goddess Demeter was murdered! And by a beast wearing human skin who claimed to serve the Sun God!"
An uproar greater than any before spread. Even on the screen, something seemed to be shaking as if trying to stop the Archbishop, but he steadfastly continued without stopping.
"Lucia Bright! A nun who claims to serve Helios! A woman who even rose to become a Saintess candidate! How could she commit such an immoral, unconscionable act! Was the position of Saintess so desperately coveted!"
"A-Archbishop!"
"She is currently on the run. We need the help of you, the citizens! That filthy murderer! That wretched witch who painted the Saintess's seat with blood! Please, capture her!"
With the Archbishop's cry, the video ended. The white screen floated there as if nothing had happened, but people screamed as if Lucia Bright's face were still projected on it.
"Bring the iron hammer down on the wicked witch!"
"Death to the murderer who defiled the Sun God's name!"
"God shows no mercy to killers!"
Among the curses directed at Lucia Bright, Michaela slowly raised her head as if coming to her senses.
"Truly heartbreaking news that brings only tears."
The pure nun's tears, layered over her pink eyes, called to mind a pale ruby. There was a noble beauty to them that made you feel someone would pay a fortune if you took those tear-filled eyes to a jeweler.
Squeeze.
I reached out, pinched her cheeks between thumb and forefinger, and yanked. Her lips parted naturally like a goldfish's, revealing the mark drawn on her tongue.
"Eh?"
Looking up at me with an expression that said she'd never imagined a situation like this, I spoke in a voice devoid of emotion.
"You. You just cracked up, didn't you."
I'd been watching right next to her—head bowed, hand clamped over her mouth, stifling the giggles that kept leaking out—and she was pulling this kind of stunt?
"Did you think you could get away with playing games using tears you shed from laughing too hard?"
"L-Let go!"
Michaela struggled, telling me to let go, but no matter how she twisted her body, she couldn't escape my grip. When I pressed a little harder, pink light began flowing from her mark, and the surrounding citizens turned toward us with expressions as if a knife fight had broken out.
"So you used that mark to agitate the people too, huh?"
From the moment she'd bowed her head and started muttering, I'd clearly seen with my own two eyes how the citizens' reactions grew more and more intense. I even suspected she might have been the one controlling the Archbishop's mid-speech excitement.
"What the hell are you!"
"What are you doing to the sister!"
"Pull him off! Hurry and pull him off!"
Even under brainwashing, it wasn't complete coercion—more like a slight twisting of their own perception—so the citizens weren't moving like puppets. They were naturally getting angry at me. If I hadn't seen the mark seeping in, even I might have just believed it.
So this is the method she used to become Saintess in my previous life.
Judging by what she was doing now, all those countless rumors about her good deeds that had even reached the Demon World Forest were likely completely false. It wasn't impossible that after becoming Saintess, she might have truly transformed into a good person over the next ten years.
But people who can control others like this almost never break free of that power.
When you can manipulate people however you please, why bother reading the room or forcing yourself to do good deeds? You can't teach an old dog new tricks. Once Michaela became Saintess, she'd clearly use this ability even more aggressively.
People clung to me, trying somehow to pull me off, but I still didn't move an inch as I looked down at Michaela. I was trying to figure out what she was thinking right now, or what her goal was.
"Hah."
This time, I had to give her credit. Even with her tail stepped on like this, Michaela was glaring at me as if she wanted to tear me apart—with eyes that showed absolutely no awareness of her own wrongdoing. Of course, I hadn't been pressing with full force, but her guts alone were worth acknowledging.
Even if I announced Michaela's ability right here...
The masses already under her power would cover their eyes and ears and start throwing the eggs and milk they'd planned to eat for breakfast at me.
"You're lucky. If something like this happens again, consider your tongue ripped out."
The moment I released my hand, Michaela rubbed both her cheeks with her hands and cried out in a hysterical voice, like someone who'd hit a wrong note mid-performance.
"You ignorant country bumpkin. I'll make you die craving a thousand years of love at the feet of Goddess Aphrodite."
Completely ignoring the citizens' worried voices asking if she was okay, Michaela simply walked into the Grand Cathedral. And just like that, the people who moments ago had been arguing as if she should be crucified quieted down as if cold water had been dumped on them.