First Kiss (1)
A round table cast in plaster.
Seven great mirrors ringed its circumference.
Each mirror, edged in gold like climbing rose vines, held the reflection of a distinctly different figure.
"We shall begin the Cardinals' Council."
The man who spoke was not a reflection. He sat at the twelve-o'clock position of the table itself—posture impeccable, every line of him steeped in severe formality. Ash-gray hair framed a face of heavy, middle-aged dignity. Dull red eyes regarded the room with an expression of profound boredom. His crimson clerical robes marked him as a cardinal; the eight-pointed golden embroidery stitched across his back proclaimed him the highest among them: Cardinal of Miden Great Cathedral.
Cardinal Rohan Barbades.
Guardian of the Grand Saintess of Miden Great Cathedral.
"Straight to business. Demian."
Still sorting through a stack of documents, Rohan pointed the tip of his fountain pen toward the mirror at two o'clock.
There sat the cardinal representing Deteros Great Cathedral—Demian.
"First, my apologies for summoning you all so abruptly. The regular session is next week, but I called this emergency gathering for no other reason than the unsavory incident that occurred recently."
Demian's brow furrowed at the memory of that night.
"Last night, the cathedral in Baram-sae Forest—where the Seventh Saintess is currently recuperating—came under attack by monsters."
"Whaaat?!"
The instant the words monster attack left his mouth, a shriek of pure panic exploded from the mirror at eleven o'clock.
"A m-monster attack?! At the place where our Saintess is staying?!"
The woman clutched her head and let out a long, keening moan. Brown hair tied up in a neat bun. A plain face shadowed by perpetual anxiety. Cardinal of Evdomos Great Cathedral, representative of the Seventh Saintess—Cleo Gritia.
"Is the Saintess—is she unharmed?!"
"She is unharmed. Calm yourself."
"Hwaaaaah, Saintess! What if she got even a hangnail?!"
She had been fretting from the start. Sabbatical or not, sending the Saintess alone to some remote cathedral—how could anyone think that was wise? The decision had been made by majority vote, but Cleo had opposed it from the beginning.
She can't even tie her own hair!
Lowen was tying it for her.
She can't get up in the morning by herself!
Lowen was waking her.
She'll trip and fall if she wanders around alone!
Lowen was catching her.
But the real source of her dread was the man serving as temporary guardian. A bishop who enjoyed the Holy See's trust. Background checks had turned up nothing—no birth records, no family name, nothing. The only scrap of information was a single document attached to his bishopric examination papers.
Bishop Lowen.
A man who had once been a knight escorting the Second Saintess before taking holy orders. The photograph showed a handsome face, but he looked like a wolf—a beast of a man.
Leaving her alone with a beast like that… Something strange was bound to happen. What if the two of them hit it off and, a year later when they returned to the Great Cathedral, the Saintess's belly was round and swollen—
"Hgyuuuaaaang!!"
The mental image of a pregnant Saintess wrenched a fresh scream from Cleo as she tore at her hair.
For the record, of every cardinal present, Cleo alone remained ignorant of Ariel's true nature. The others had judged that learning the truth would shock her into actual illness. Cleo had raised Ariel since childhood, taught her everything. Discovering that the girl she had cherished like a little sister was, in fact, a hopeless lewd woman would destroy her.
And one more thing: Cleo herself was the principal architect of Ariel's carefully cultivated air of pure innocence.
"Compose yourself, Cardinal Cleo."
"Demian! Our Saintess! Our Saintess is with that beast!"
"I already told you she is unharmed."
Where Cleo heard beast and thought Lowen, Demian heard beast and thought monster. He clicked his tongue and shook his head.
"Quiet."
Still arranging his papers, Rohan flicked his fingers. A sharp crack rang through empty air, and Cleo's mirror frosted over white, as if breathed upon by winter.
"Continue the report."
Demian nodded.
"The attacking monsters were a dangerous species—Keltroro. Exact numbers could not be confirmed, but approximately several dozen."
As he spoke, Demian studied each cardinal reflected in the mirrors one by one. Some wore startled faces. Some listened with blank indifference. One was snickering as though the whole affair were excellent entertainment. Varied reactions—yet not one of them looked truly flustered. He paid particular attention to the cardinal of Tetartos Great Cathedral, who listened with an utterly expressionless face.
"Their precise objective remains unclear, but the most likely targets are the two Saintesses who were staying at the cathedral at the time—the Second and the Seventh. I believe the attack was aimed at them."
Demian laid out the events in careful detail: the horde of monsters that had converged on the cathedral near dawn; the fierce battle fought by the holy knights under the Second Saintess's blessing. And then, before revealing the most critical point—
"Once the situation was under control and we searched the forest, we discovered this."
A blue light rose above the plaster table, resolving into the corpse of a black unicorn rabbit. The image enlarged, magnifying two magic circles carved into the creature's entrails.
"One circle is a summoning array used to call the monsters. The other is a defensive array designed to channel divine power. Both were drawn with divine power. I trust you all understand what that implies."
Magic circles drawn with divine power. The only people capable of wielding divine power were clergy who served the God of Light. Everyone present grasped the meaning at once.
"It could be the work of the Demon Cult—but given that the Saintess Selection is nearly upon us, another possibility presents itself."
At that, the elderly man reflected in the one-o'clock mirror raised a hand. A long white beard hung down his chest. Cardinal of Prota Great Cathedral—Bedin Norman.
"What you are suggesting, then, is that one among us orchestrated the attack on the Saintesses?"
"A possibility."
Demian met Bedin's gaze squarely.
"There is precedent."
Bedin, who had served among the cardinals of the previous generation, knew exactly what Demian meant. The murder of a Saintess.
"In any case, this matter will be investigated thoroughly. I expect full cooperation from all of you."
"Of course!"
Having somehow regained her voice, Cleo shouted, practically vibrating with fury.
"How dare they target the Saintess who will become our future Grand Saintess! Just wait until I catch them—I'll kill them a hundred times and bring them back a hundred times!"
Every cardinal except Rohan turned to stare at her.
"Know your place, you bottom-rung upstart!"
The bellow came from the cardinal of Tritos Great Cathedral—Baras Hastings. The middle-aged man deepened the heavy creases between his brows and jabbed a finger at Cleo.
"No one has decided who will become Grand Saintess."
"Excuse me? At the very least it won't be anyone from Tritos."
"Insolence. You speak as though your side alone has any claim."
"Obviously our Saintess is next."
"Hah. A Saintess off recuperating in the countryside, becoming Grand Saintess? Preposterous."
"W-what did you just say? She's a hundred times better than that tyrant of yours!"
"Tyrant? Did you just call our Saintess a tyrant?!"
Voices climbed. Each had insulted the other; neither would concede the slightest carelessness in their words. The argument was still ricocheting back and forth like a jammed door when—
"Shut up."
Before Rohan could intervene, the cardinal of Tetartos Great Cathedral—who until now had maintained perfect silence and a blank expression—spoke. Lancelot Lakemoon.
"Conduct yourselves like cardinals."
His cold blue eyes pinned Cleo and Baras in place.
"Tch…"
"Y-yes…"
Lancelot crossed one leg over the other and closed his mouth again.
"Ahem. Let us resume."
Demian cleared his throat, drawing every gaze back to him.
"The monster attack is a serious matter, but there is something more important still."
"Something more important?"
Cleo could scarcely imagine what could outrank someone targeting their Saintess.
"Cardinal Cleo—perhaps, just as you claim, the Seventh Saintess may indeed stand the best chance of becoming Grand Saintess."
"What? Really?"
"Cardinal Demian! Even you—!"
"Did something extraordinary occur?"
Cleo, Baras, and Bedin all reacted at once. The cardinals of Pempto and Ektos Great Cathedrals leaned in with interest as well. Lancelot held his original posture without the slightest change. Rohan continued working through his documents.
"The Seventh Saintess unleashed a large-scale Purification Blessing."
The chatter died instantly.
A Purification Blessing. A sacred miracle usable only by a Grand Saintess. High-tier divine magic capable of annihilating every evil within a given radius, curing disease, and even reviving the dying—power that could rightly be called the authority of a god itself. That the troublesome Seventh Saintess had wielded such a thing was almost impossible to believe.
"How large, exactly?"
Rohan looked up from his papers at last.
"It activated so suddenly that precise measurement was impossible, but it was sufficient to blanket the entirety of Baram-sae Forest."
At the words entirety of Baram-sae Forest, Cleo let out a startled squeal. The forest was not vast, but neither was it small; walking its full perimeter took two to three days.
"Hmm…"
Rohan propped his chin on one hand and tapped the table thoughtfully.
"The sheer volume of divine power, at least, is worthy of recognition."
Among the eight Saintesses—including the Grand Saintess—Ariel possessed the greatest reservoir of divine power. In purity she fell short of the Grand Saintess, but in raw quantity she surpassed her. The critical point was that this held true only within measurable range; beyond that threshold, no one could even guess where her limits truly lay.
"Heh-heh!"
Cleo's nose tilted skyward as she shot Baras a triumphant little snort.
"Tsk…"
Baras turned his head and clicked his tongue.
"We will dispatch priests later to examine the matter of the Saintess more closely."
"Agreed."
At that moment Cleo bounced up and down in her seat, hand shooting into the air.
"Me! Me! I'll do it! I'll combine it with next month's regular visitation and check the Saintess's divine power myself!"
Not a single cardinal raised an objection.
"And before that—what of the Saintess's safety?"
Bedin had raised his hand again.
"Surely you do not believe this monster attack will be the last. Even if she can use the Purification Blessing, it may have been pure chance. If she cannot call upon it in a true emergency, it might as well not exist."
Demian's usual sly smile curved the corners of his mouth.
"No need to worry overmuch on that score. She has a most reliable friend watching over her."
"Are you not placing rather too much trust in that man?"
To the other cardinals, Demian's faith in Lowen seemed excessive.
"You yourself know him—the man who escorted Saintess Seria during the monster subjugation."
"And if that fellow turns his heart to ill intent?"
"I have known him a long time. He is not that sort of man."
"A person is often a stranger even to himself."
Demian answered Bedin without a trace of hesitation.
"Lowen is a man who, once he has decided to protect something, will guard it even at the cost of his own life."
What Demian did not know was that this man in whom he placed such absolute trust had very nearly spent a scorching night buried in Ariel's rear entrance. Had he ever learned that fact…
Blasphemy!
…he would have mobilized every holy knight under his command and come for Lowen's lower half.
"I will also see that sacred tools useful for defense are sent to them."
"I'll send them!"
"Use only the most thoroughly trustworthy channels, just to be safe."
"Yes, sir!"
A few more exchanges, and the Cardinals' Council drew to a close.
One by one the figures in the mirrors vanished, leaving Rohan alone at the plaster table.
"A Purification Blessing…"
Lost in deep thought, he sat motionless for a long while with his eyes closed. At last he gathered his documents, rose from his seat, and left.