The Confessional Office's Secret Relief
The Confessional Office of Luteria was a humble space that only one person could enter at a time. A penitent and a priest sat on opposite sides of a thin curtain, their silhouettes the only thing visible to each other as they performed the sacrament of confession.
Confessing sins and seeking forgiveness from the Goddess was the purpose, yet the reality differed. Because of the confined space and the assurance that a trustworthy priest would hear every word in confidence, many visitors came not just for repentance but to unburden their hearts.
Some were simply poor villagers who had heard rumors that the priest might listen to “simple worries,” such as, “That chicken next door lays eggs so well—could she really be a witch?” or “There’s a man I like, but why doesn’t he even glance at me?”
The priests grew weary of these pointless confessions, yet they could not scold the innocent or drive anyone away. Some religions had even restricted entry to the confessional to only nobles. The assumption was that educated nobles would never bother with casual advice, but the number of confessions dropped sharply while the ratio stayed roughly the same.
Everyone simply needed to talk, and if the listener was bound by the rule of complete confidentiality, the relief was immense.
And today, a man entered the Luteria Church’s confessional office.
He was a carpenter.
He had a son and a daughter, lived in a peaceful home with his beautiful wife, and had once believed it was all perfect.
But that had been a lie.
He had trusted his wife completely, thinking she only cared for him and their children. Yet she had been having an affair—with his own friend—for nearly ten years.
“That day the work finished early. When there was a big rush I couldn’t look after the house, I’m sorry. I just changed clothes and came back. So I bought a lot of her favorite duck meat and came home.”
Jay leaned forward, voice soft, close to the curtain that blocked the center.
Actually, he had not come for confession. The confessional office itself had been the only thing he wanted to see. Once inside and the novelty wore off, interest faded.
Jay had only learned that one fist could fit between the curtain and the wall when he turned to leave. The man on the opposite side stepped in, and Jay froze—then listened, captivated.
Because no story is funnier than cuckoldry, Jay kept listening.
“I slipped in secretly to watch, thinking I’d be shocked…”
“But when I got there… I heard my wife moaning in the bedroom…”
“I thought I’d worry her if I told her I was sick, so I quietly opened the door…”
Jay could not urge him on. The man’s voice cracked with tears.
“Inside… my wife and the friend we used to be were tangled together. I couldn’t say anything. I ran out of the house. At the entrance I collapsed, powerless, and had to listen to her moans and his filthy words for a long time.”
“…That must have been horrible.”
Jay nodded.
“Yes… I never want to experience that pain again. I was the one the other carpenters respected as the strong one. But that day… I was like a frightened goat. I couldn’t move. I went back to the workshop and stayed awake all night. But later… something funny happened.”
“What?”
“I found the duck meat I had left by the entrance, being eaten.”
Jay blinked, not understanding the joke.
“My wife greeted me cheerfully at the table. She joked that the friend had come and eaten everything because I wasn’t there.”
“Whoa…”
Even hearing it made Jay’s blood boil. He would have grabbed the friend’s throat and shaken him, asking why he was eating only the duck meat.
“He bragged about it like it was a blessing from the gods, without even noticing I had come and gone.”
Jay’s voice grew quiet. The large figure on the other side trembled with silent sobs. He looked at the silhouette with pity.
After a long silence, the man spoke in a bitter tone.
“Priest, I want your forgiveness from the Goddess. Ever since that day, every time I see my wife or the man we were friends with… I want to kill them. I want those bastards who betrayed me to suffer. How can I endure this ugly heart?”
Jay answered calmly, without a hint of surprise.
“Just kill them.”
“Y-yes… kill them… You mean, not forgive?”
“Why forgive? If you tore their chests open, they should tear yours open too.”
The man looked startled. The silhouette behind the curtain shifted.
“No… revenge is a sin… so…”
“The sins were theirs. What? What do you call it? Carpenter, you have no sin. Why do you feel sorry for yourself?”
“B-but…”
“And if you don’t kill them, you’ll have to see their faces every day. Can you stand that?”
Jay’s last words left the man speechless.
“Don’t beat their heads in or anything like that. Killing is a crime.”
“Then how do I get revenge?”
“It’s not revenge. It’s punishment.”
Jay corrected him gently and stepped closer to the curtain.
“You have all the evidence, right? First, go to his workshop and yell that he slept with your wife. Then go to their house and do the same. Their parents are still alive, right? Go there too and shout about it.”
“But… is that allowed?”
“Why not? They committed adultery. All those sinners should be known and careful, shouldn’t they?”
“Y-yes…”
Though the answer was not priestly, the man nodded.
“You said he was a friend, so he must be a carpenter too. Whenever he takes a job, tell the client, ‘He sleeps with married women—be careful.’ But I can’t say ‘steal wives’… sorry, I got too excited.”
“I-it’s fine.”
“Warn the clients that he might try to seduce their wives. If you keep telling people, soon the whole city will know his name and hate him. He’ll either live as a hated outcast or leave. Then you’ll have a happy ending, Carpenter.”
Jay’s cheerful voice left the man unable to speak.
After a long silence, the big man stirred.
“Thank you. I don’t know if I’ll follow your advice, but… I feel at ease.”
“No need to thank me. What will you do with the children?”
“I don’t know… I love them too much, but every time I see them I wonder if they’re really his.”
“Don’t suspect them until you have proof. Children are sensitive to their parents’ feelings. So keep loving them even if you’re worried. Once you know, you can handle the rest yourself.”
The man left, still grateful.
Jay sighed in relief. Maybe the confessional office was popular because people felt lighter afterward.
Then a new visitor entered.
The priest who had only ever heard about the Goddess and simple prayers suddenly found the confessions surprisingly entertaining.
“It must be the witch’s doing! My cows caught a disease I’ve never seen. Red spots like needles pierced their skin. I’ve been raising livestock for over twenty years—this is the first time.”
“Eh? That’s not a witch. It’s parasites. Parasites.”
Jay gave the livestock farmer advice. The worms had spread from the eastern continent once imperial trade opened.
When the man heard to spray smoke on the cows and bathe them in ash water, he nodded warily but left satisfied.
“I took a vow of purity and broke the Goddess’s words… When I was young, I had a girl I grew up with… I couldn’t resist my lust…”
“Congratulations on your chastity loss. Enjoy beautiful love. Next customer.”
“A demon has possessed me. My head spins and I keep seeing things. It feels like the ground is shaking…”
“If your head hurts, go to the hospital. Next.”
Not every confession was fun. When the line of visitors became a flood, Jay grew tired and slipped out during a quiet moment.
The people who had listened to his ridiculous yet strangely sound advice followed it and took action.
The next day, when Jay yawned at the thought of another boring day, the priests glanced at him.
“You started the day too early, so you’re sleepy.”
Even though the excuse was lazy, the priests laughed and cheered for him.
Abigail, who had been watching Jay since morning and was still confused whether the priests were kind or if he had become their friend in one day, saw the church door open.
A large man strode in. His muscular build and powerful aura made everyone tense, but the head priest stepped forward to stop him.
“It’s not time for service yet. Visitors aren’t allowed…”
“Thank you!!”
The big man bowed deeply to the head priest.
“Are you the head priest who gave yesterday’s confession?! I’m so grateful!”
“Uh… no, confession is confidential…”
“Right! Sorry. This idiot forgot even that.”
The man slapped his own head in self-reproach. Abigail, who had been holding Maji’s hand, slowly turned to stare at Jay.
Her smile was stiff, her face rigid. Anyone could see it was suspicious.
When their eyes met, Jay slowly backed away. Abigail grabbed his sleeve before he could escape.
She held Maji in her right hand and Jay in her left. The sight looked like a loving family, but Jay was sweating cold sweat.
“What exactly happened yesterday?”
“I followed the priest’s advice exactly. It was like my chest had been opened! Lutera sent punishment on the two of them. I’m so grateful. I never imagined I’d feel this way.”
Jay, already guessing the carpenter had lost his wife to his friend, nodded with a warm smile at the man’s satisfied face.
Of course Abigail was still glaring at him.
“How can I repay this kindness? Anything you want—say it! I’ll do anything, Jake! Whatever the church members ask, I’ll do it!”
“No need. Lutera never asks what to give or what to share. If the believers are happy, everything is her will…”
“Really? Now I understand!”
The excited man was not listening to the head priest. He wandered boldly among the priests, checking the surroundings.
“The statue is old. And it doesn’t express the Goddess’s holiness at all. My skill is the second-best in Legandia. I’ll make the best statue I can and donate it.”
“Your words are appreciated…”
“No! The chair is about to break! The pulpit is worn and full of splinters! You manage it so well and now it’s like this? How much did you spend?!”
Jay was no longer gentle—he was blunt.
After inspecting every corner of the church where wood was used, he declared he would make and donate everything.
The head priest barely calmed the excited man and agreed to a statue and a chair.
Even after repeated refusals, the man left the church promising to create the finest work.
“What… what exactly?”
The head priest sighed as he watched the man leave. But it was not over.
“Thank you. Thanks to you I was saved.”
“Eh?”
“I heard you told me to go to the hospital. I’m sorry for thinking you were rude. Thanks to you I discovered the dangerous illness early. You are my life’s benefactor.”
The head priest still did not understand.
“Because you saved my life, I’m a merchant who deals in supplies. I’ll donate good ingredients every week.”
When the head priest refused, the woman shook her head firmly.
“A priest I don’t even know and Lutera saved my life. I have to repay this kindness until my last breath. Please accept it. If you think it’s too much, you can share with more people at the church. The Luteria Church always shares with those in need—I want to share too.”
In the end, the head priest had no choice.
More people came: the livestock farmer offering weekly milk, a noble offering to hold weddings here, and countless others touched by the confessional. The head priest was bewildered.
Abigail watched Jay.
The tense expression had vanished; only arrogance remained.
The Luteria Church, once poor, was slowly improving thanks to many donors and helpful believers.
When Maji heard she could drink milk every day, she was simply overjoyed.