The Young Lady Drawing Lots #2

"So the preliminary results come out this afternoon."

One o'clock in the afternoon. That was when they would announce the results of the preliminaries. Checking the sundial, the time was roughly ten in the morning. Three hours left.

What to do with this empty stretch of time? Naturally, I already knew where I was going. My life right now was running smoothly along a predetermined set of rails.

"I need to go to the church and drive out those thugs."

The fact that Lady Psyche's illness had been a feigned one was known only to the Count and the Count's daughter. And they had said it needed to stay that way. Even the Countess herself, from what I could tell, had no idea her daughter had been faking it.

Which meant that I, Brother Hyde the monk, was already circulating as "the man who cured the Count's daughter of her illness through miraculous means."

And what did that mean, exactly—?

It meant I could lawfully expel Priest Manaan and his lackeys from the church they were occupying. The church was mine now!

It might have been nothing more than a crumbling plot of land, but the fact that I could finally establish a pioneer church made my chest burn hot enough that I thought I might start weeping.

"It really took a long time."

Moved, I headed for the church. I shoved the door open, and the men who had been clustered together like sewer rats, chattering away, all fell silent. They stared at me in utter panic, trembling, with no idea what to do.

I addressed them.

"Manaan and his lackeys! As promised, I cured the young lady's illness within a week. Kindly vacate the church at once."

It was an extremely satisfying moment. I wondered if the Lord's own heart had felt something like this when He drove the merchants and swindlers from the temple with a whip.

I was already considering how best to furnish the place when Priest Manaan walked calmly forward. He tilted his head and asked,

"A promise? I have no idea what you're talking about. Did we make some sort of promise with you?"

"Ha! Playing dumb now, are we? Did you not swear that if I cured Lady Psyche's illness within seven days, you would quietly hand over this church? You even had it notarized before the name of God."

"My, you seem to be under some misapprehension. Would sinners like us dare make a promise before the name of God? We did no such thing. Isn't that right, everyone?"

At Priest Manaan's question, the Iron Badge priests looked at one another. Then they nodded vigorously and started babbling, "That's right! We never promised anything!"

I had been curious how they would react, and this was how they came out. Honestly, I wasn't even surprised. According to Scripture, the race called "humanity" was not a trustworthy species. Faith was not something used between people—it only applied in the relationship between God and man.

"It's hardly surprising that base, incompetent people would lie. Very well. But you'd do well to think carefully. If I become the Count's son-in-law, you will all face severe punishment. When that day comes, a simple excommunication won't be the end of it. Are you fine with that?"

The Agarpe Count may have lost power, but he still commanded five hundred private soldiers and five knights. Driving a single Bronze Badge priest out of a church in the Agarpe domain would hardly be difficult.

Manaan's face twisted. He sneered.

"Hyde. I don't know what cheap trick you used to cure Lady Psyche's illness, but coincidence does not strike twice. The odds of you becoming the Count's son-in-law are lower than the odds of a devil going to Heaven."

Manaan was supremely confident. The way he was so certain that what I had done was mere "coincidence" made it look as though he had some powerful backing. What on earth was making this liar so shameless? A priest, burying something he had notarized in God's own name.

Anger began to surge up.

"Manaan. People like you are worse than heretics or cultists. Frauds who invoke God's name with their mouths and then refuse to act accordingly."

Why did pastors get more abuse than people in other professions for the same mistakes? Because pastors spent their days talking about goodness and justice. When people who spouted fine words with their mouths then behaved differently, others felt deep disappointment—and sometimes even rage and disgust. These were the ones who brought the Church into disrepute. To me, internal enemies like this were more dangerous than cultists, heretics, or pagans.

Hmph.

Manaan laughed.

"Sneer and curse all you like. Young Master Oscar is already here in this land. Young Master Oscar will marry Lady Psyche and carry out Archbishop Archibold's plan."

"Archbishop Archibold's plan? What is that?"

"It's not a story a foreigner like you needs to know. Archbishop Archibold does not speak of his plans carelessly to just anyone."

As he said it, Manaan seemed to be subtly flaunting his personal connection to Archbishop Archibold. So that was his trump card—Archbishop Archibold. It was so obvious I had assumed he had some other insurance. This was almost disappointing.

"Then I'll just go ask Archbishop Archibold myself. I was planning to meet him soon anyway."

"Why would His Grace meet a nobody like you? Wood Badge monk Hyde. Looking at you, you haven't even awakened holy power—you're still a greenhorn. You're not even a real priest."

Because I had not awakened holy power, I was not a priest—that was the argument. An utterly ridiculous one.

"Manaan. You said it yourself with your own mouth. What matters to a priest is the Bible and faith. Holy power is meaningless, you said. Why change your tune now?"

"……"

Priest Manaan closed his mouth. I pressed on.

"Are you rejecting the teachings of Archbishop Archibold, whom you so revere? If the Archbishop heard what you just said, I think he would be deeply disappointed."

"……!"

Manaan's face flushed red and purple. He looked furious, but he clamped his mouth shut as if determined not to argue with me. Infuriating little bastard.

Back when I was Rust, I would have handed scum like this over to Las of the Great Sin Seat as a punching bag and made them wish they were dead. As the upright and devout cleric Hyde, I had far too many constraints to observe.

Flinch—!

I startled at my own thoughts. Was I actually missing my cultist days?

No! Absolutely not!

Punishing sinners was the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Lord's role. Even if I left them alone, people like Manaan would surely receive divine retribution. But, just as I had done with Abbot Nomad of Emeris Monastery, handing out a little "wordplay" before I left should be fine, right?

I raised my index finger. As every eye gathered on it, I spoke, willing my anger into the words.

With that, I left the church.

Before long it was high noon. One o'clock in the afternoon.

Throughout the Agarpe domain, large scrolls were hung in every alley wide enough for people to pass.

My name being on the list was only natural. What surprised me was that Loras's name was there too. How had that muscle-brained knight managed to solve the problems?

"Doesn't really matter. I'll win the main round anyway."

I returned to the Count's estate to take part in the finals. I had been worried that Priest Manaan or his lackeys might try to keep me from arriving by two o'clock and get me eliminated.

I arrived in a rush—and ran straight into a tall, handsome knight with golden hair. He looked at me and clicked his tongue. Tsk.

I spoke to him.

"Knight Loras. I don't know how you solved the preliminary questions, but that proud arm of yours is about to get broken. What a pity."

"My arm? Why?"

Knight Loras played dumb. When even priests who had notarized things before God were lying, expecting a conscience from some ignorant knight was probably asking too much. I had expected him to react this way, but the complete lack of deviation was almost boring.

"You there, brother servant passing by. Your name was Brox, wasn't it? You were standing right there when I made a wager with Knight Loras. You must have overheard us. Do you remember our bet?"

I had memorized the faces and names of everyone nearby when I made the wager with Knight Loras. The servant, who reeked of horse dung, looked thoroughly flustered. He glanced between Loras and me, then shook his head.

"…W-what ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wager? I don't know anything about it."

Right. So everyone in the Agarpe domain was like this? Not a single person who kept a promise. House of the "Covenant of Agarpe," they called themselves. People who had survived only by betraying the royal family—I supposed this was inevitable. That "pure maiden Psyche" had been born into a house like this was the real surprise.

I raised my voice so the whole area could hear.

"Does no one really remember? That if I passed the preliminaries under my own power, Loras's arm would be broken? That if I failed, Loras would break mine? Are the people of Agarpe all liars?"

At my question, passersby and servants looked over with extremely awkward expressions. I was drawing in a breath to shout again when Loras, looking rather rattled, spoke ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠up.

"Ah, I remember now. We did make a wager like that. It was just a joke. Did you seriously believe a bet about breaking someone's arm? Even if I'd won, I wouldn't have broken your arm, brother."

This bastard. He just didn't want the gossip from a big scene, so he was trying to brush it off as a joke. With a lowlife like this living in the manor as the foremost knight, no wonder House Agarpe was in decline.

Priest Manaan and Knight Loras. In the end, there was only one way to punish these base liars: becoming family to the Count's house myself.

That was when it happened.

Psyche appeared before the crowd, clad in silver-gleaming armor. When Knight Loras waved cheerfully—"Psyche!"—she seemed to notice us as well. She came over at once.

As Loras brightened—"Psyche, did you come to see me?"—Psyche looked at me and frowned.

"Hyde. You already would have passed the preliminaries, so why did you write answers like that? You really are a willful person. I have something to ask you first. Come with me."

With that, she led me toward the drawing room. I was thinking how unexpected it was that Psyche herself would escort me when she spoke in a voice soft enough that only I could hear.

"There are people in the manor who don't look kindly on you. They might try to stop you from reaching the examination hall by two o'clock."

What I had anticipated and what Psyche had guessed overlapped perfectly.

"Psyche. For our thoughts to align so completely—we truly must have been born as destined partners meant to aid one another. Lady Psyche, to speak honestly, I fell in love with you at first sight."

I confessed with complete sincerity. A bond I had crossed back through time itself to meet. Destiny, pure and simple!

Whether my sincerity got through or not, Psyche's face flushed deeply.

"W-what are you saying? I'm the one asking the questions. First—everything written on this answer sheet. Did you think of all of it yourself? Is it true that this land is not flat, but shaped like a ball?"

"It is true. I can prove it. This land is ball-shaped. More precisely, slightly ellipsoidal."

"But if what you say is true, doesn't that directly contradict the Church's teaching that the world is shaped like a dish? Hyde—are you, while aspiring to the priesthood, arguing against the Church's doctrine?"

How best to answer? Feeling Psyche's gaze boring into me as if she meant to see straight through, I realized that the "main round" had already begun.