Chapter 151
Chapter 151
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 151
Chapter Title: Papal Palace (5)
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The Gem-rank adventurers of this world... more precisely, the ones in the 'human world'. There were Gems among the fairies too, and now even an orc Gem mage had shown up.
Anyway, to sum up the general tendencies of these so-called Gems:
The clerics were all Archbishops themselves—the church incarnate, naturally.
The mages, every last one, had strained relationships with the church. Galen, the newest addition, was the sole exception.
The warriors were more varied. Some kept the church at arm's length, not quite as distant as the mages, while others actively stepped up to help.
The church kept scorecards on all of them internally. Higher scores meant more church-friendly leanings.
"Uh, is it really okay for me to know all this? Some of it might be sensitive to certain people."
"You planning to blab about it?"
"No, of course not."
"Then no harm done. Bishop Lilia would've told you anyway if you'd asked."
"Er, well..."
"Not saying her lips are loose—don't get me wrong. It just means this is safe info for you. Nothing much different from the rumors floating around."
And so, Galen got a broad overview of the Gems.
Among them, the highest scorer was Michael.
His record had quite a few similarities to Galen's.
He didn't stick solely to church business, but every so often, he'd take on their commissions and roam the world far and wide.
In short, before Galen came along, Michael had long been the church's go-to fixer.
His value hadn't diminished now, either. Warriors and mages served different roles from the start.
As a result, Galen even felt a slight camaraderie toward Michael—a kind of kinship among kindred spirits.
But their first meeting, which he'd quietly hoped for, turned out like this.
"......"
"......"
Neither Galen nor Michael wanted to escalate further and ruin the occasion. They both fell silent for the moment.
But it was only a temporary patch. Galen felt deeply irritated.
'Have I just been dealing with overly kind old folks until now?'
He thought that for a second, but on reflection, it wasn't entirely true.
He hadn't clashed much with the elders he'd met, sure.
But the ones he'd conversed deeply with were all clerics who doted on Lilia, or else outright overpowered into submission by Galen himself. The former included Archbishops Daimus and Varga; the latter, the Oceanis elders.
Michael was the first elder Galen had met who wasn't churchfolk and matched him in skill.
'If the church's closest ally is like this, the rest will be worse. Fine, look down on me all you want. One punch will change your mind.'
Normally, he wouldn't let it get to him like this, but maybe the festive day soured him on the jab.
...Or perhaps he just couldn't stomach anyone belittling Lilia.
Lost in thought, Galen's gaze had blurred for a moment. Now it sharpened again, the surroundings snapping back into crisp focus.
Lilia wasn't even that close, but just seeing her from afar melted away the displeasure he'd felt moments ago.
'...Yeah, that tracks.'
It might be pretty serious. Realizing his emotions anew, Galen gave a wry smile.
At any rate, there wasn't enough time to just admire her beauty. Galen shoved Michael from his mind and focused solely on Lilia. His heart softened instantly.
The ordination ceremony proceeded smoothly from there, culminating in the Miracle of Selection.
Booom!
The gentle wave of holy power rippled outward, caressing the chapel.
"Oh, ooh......"
"Truly a blessing from on high......"
The moved clerics' murmurs reached Galen's ears too.
No irreverent soul here doubted that an Archbishop ordained by the Pope himself could be fake.
But even without suspicion, pure curiosity was natural.
In the church's long history, this was the first Archbishop in her twenties. Not even late twenties—she'd just turned twenty, having reached the rank at nineteen. Effectively, a teenager Archbishop.
This unprecedented prodigy proved her worth simply and directly. Any cleric who couldn't feel the Miracle of Selection's grandeur didn't deserve the title.
"This concludes the ordination ceremony. The outdoor procession will follow shortly, so please prepare accordingly."
The announcer's 'outdoor event' meant a city parade.
This chapel ceremony had been closed to church affiliates only, and Lilia had just become an Archbishop officially.
With internal rites done, next came circling the city to show off the new Archbishop's face to the public.
Ordinary folk, who couldn't imagine life without the church from cradle to grave, were purely joyful. Noble houses, inevitably tied to the church in some way, had to know her face, sending reps from afar.
The church knew this, holding the outdoor event to flaunt their strengthened might with the new Archbishop's birth.
That said, not everyone rushed out. Only the star, Lilia, stepped down from the dais.
She passed slowly through the attendees, heading for the chapel exit.
"Congratulations, Your Grace!"
"May light always guide your path."
"Thank you! Thank you!"
Praise and well-wishes poured from all sides—no shortage of handshake requests. Even brief intros and chats ate up time with the sheer numbers.
After wading through dozens of bishops from the Central Diocese, Lilia finally reached the back row. Non-church affiliates, but still persons of note.
A few greetings later, it was Michael's turn.
"Michael of the Vandemon Family."
To Galen's mild relief, Michael wasn't foolish enough to air grievances openly in public. The church wouldn't have invited him if he were.
"Congratulations on your ordination, Archbishop Lilia."
"Thank you, Brother Michael! I've heard so much about you!"
Lilia replied brightly. Like Galen, she'd known of him beforehand.
"We might work together sometime. Looking forward to it then too!"
"Likewise."
Their exchange ended curtly, without incident.
Last up: Galen.
Lilia's face was brighter than at any point since entering the chapel. Galen, beaming, introduced himself.
Lacking a prominent house to name, his identity remained that of a mercenary.
Two months in Chroma already.
More than enough time for 'Nijerte's Silver and Abaka's Gold' to upgrade once.
"Galen, Gem-rank mercenary of Chroma."
"...!"
The well-informed had pieced it from the attendee list, but the rest gasped at the reveal.
Chroma's mercenary guild, like those in church-strong cities, fell under direct Papal influence.
Papal authority didn't equate to guild authority, but their credibility ranked top-tier worldwide.
A Gem-rank from there? As good as church-stamped validation.
"Heartfelt congratulations on the Archbishop ordination."
"I'm always grateful, Brother."
Lilia beamed, spreading her arms slightly. She swayed side to side like in a dance.
"Everything okay?"
"Of course. I'm at my prettiest."
Lilia laughed radiantly at Galen's honest assessment. She stepped close, whispering softly in his ear.
"First time you've called me pretty. You've said it suits me lots, though."
She stepped back, face faintly flushed, curtsied gracefully, and turned.
As she hurried out of the chapel, others began filing out one by one.
Whether from his self-intro or Lilia's blatantly intimate finale—impossible to mistake them for strangers—plenty of eyes lingered on Galen.
He stayed put calmly until the place emptied.
"That's why you reacted that way earlier."
Michael, who'd lingered too, spoke up. Galen turned.
"Young folks these days are bold with affection, eh? Sweet nothings amid all these eyes."
"Ordinary ears aren't as sharp as yours, Lord Michael. That's why it's a whisper."
Galen shot back flatly at the snide remark.
"Or what, want to debate maintaining Gem dignity?"
"An Archbishop should at least look weighty to others, no? Humans are swayed heavily by appearances."
"Fair point. So, you just don't like Lilia seeming too frivolous."
"She lacks that gravity from age, doesn't she?"
"Then flip it: if someone told you, 'You're old, stay home and mind grandkids quietly,' what would you say?"
"...What?"
Michael's brow twitched. Galen pressed on evenly.
"If you'd claim 'age is just a number' then, it applies equally when the number's low. Right?"
Speechless, Michael clammed up, face sour. It'd been ages since a kid talked back so bluntly; he faltered on how to respond.
"What are you two doing here in the chapel."
A third voice, deep and resonant, cut in. Spoken softly from afar, yet it pierced the ears clearly.
Julian descended the dais leisurely, approaching.
The elders trailing him were a dazzling lineup.
Northeast and East Archbishop: Daimus.
Southeast: Anton.
South and Southwest: Varga.
West: Miriam.
Northwest and North: Ernst.
They'd arrived days early, so Galen had met each once already—familiar faces.
But church top brass rarely gathered like this; even familiar, they glowed with an aura like a halo from behind. Enough presence to conquer the world right there.
"Your Holiness."
Michael straightened instantly; Galen bowed politely.
Julian nodded lightly.
"Having quite the lively chat, I see."
"My apologies. You overheard?"
Same apparent age, but Julian was generations older, so Michael used utmost respect. Julian chuckled softly.
"Wasn't it meant to be heard?"
The chapel was vast, but Gems or Archbishops heard plenty with enhanced senses. Michael knew that.
To his silence, Julian said quietly,
"I know what worries you. Unreliable allies are worse than none."
"...Indeed."
"But didn't Lord Galen say it? Age is just a number. What matters is ability, and track record proves it best. Watch and judge—don't prejudge blindly."
"...Understood."
"You too, Lord Galen—no hard feelings. Michael meant no malice."
"Yes."
It felt like a teacher breaking up kids' squabble: 'Now shake hands. Hug it out. Say sorry. Friends again, got it?' Forced reconciliation.
"Won't force you to be pals, but no fighting. Puts me in a bind."
Chuckling heartily, Julian exited alone.
The five Archbishops split off—their paths diverged from the Pope's.
Julian would parade the city with Lilia, bolstering her authority as Pope.
The Archbishops skipped the outdoor event to avoid stealing focus.
Varga, Miriam, and Ernst exchanged pleasantries and left for business.
"Care for a word, Michael?"
Closest kin Anton dragged him off.
"Heavens."
Daimus stayed by Galen, tutting softly in sympathy.
"Forgive him. Mind's so rigid. Hard for him to accept you or Archbishop Lilia—too young."
"His Holiness sorted it well enough."
Galen shrugged.
"If he won't acknowledge us, we just steer clear. Time'll fix it—or not, no big deal."
Daimus smiled wryly, changing tack.
"Anyway, next stop decided?"
"Heard we detour east after this."
"Right. Old tradition."
"You know, why ask?"
"Thought if routes overlap, travel together. Gets lonely solo in my dotage."
Central and East looked close on maps, but great mountains forced detours via northeast or southeast.
So Daimus suggested the northeast route.
"Ah, Your Grace interested in crossing the great range too?"
"...Huh?"