Padilla Becomes a Great Saintess
In Padilla's hand floated Gauss, shimmering with a ripple of blue light. Overwhelmed by the honor bestowed upon her, she scanned the gathered crowd in the Gold Hall with an expression of utter disbelief.
"G-Gauss has truly chosen me as its master, right?"
I just smiled warmly, while Shura and the elderly high priest were moved to tears, at a loss for words.
Shura, who had experience with this, answered confidently.
"Yeah. Now you're a Great Saintess too, Padilla."
Overcome with emotion, Padilla's hand trembled as she clutched Gauss. The divine artifact of Euroa, which her ancestors had served for generations, had chosen her. Now, all the people of Kara would revere their queen, and the kingdom—scattered like grains of sand—would unite under the banner of Gauss and divine glory.
Padilla rushed over and threw her arms around me.
"It's all thanks to you, White Mask. If you hadn't brought me to Divinum Cathedral, this day of joy would never have come."
"No big deal. It was fate, so it happened. Come on, let's go announce the birth of a new Great Saintess to the world."
"Yes."
We paused the Holy Hall ceremony for a moment and stepped outside.
The elderly high priest went out first and proclaimed the birth of the Water Great Saintess to the assembled crowd.
"The Queen of Kara has ascended as the Water Great Saintess!"
The sudden announcement caused a stir, but when Padilla emerged holding Gauss, everyone dropped to one knee in profound reverence. Most were from the forces of darkness, but there were no exceptions.
To not pay homage to the return of a Great Saintess would be outright heresy, a denial of the divine.
Still, compared to last year when Ignes had emerged with Shaya, the atmosphere of worship felt somewhat subdued. The birth of a Great Saintess was a big deal once or twice, but with five popping up, the novelty was wearing off.
As Padilla stood there stiffly, looking lost, I gave her a nudge from behind.
"Say something. A message. You've prepared one, right?"
"Y-Yes."
Padilla stepped forward and addressed the crowd. There were words of shared joy, but most of it was a speech praying for peace. It seemed the recent war with the Robros army had left deep scars on her heart.
Leaning against the wall of the Holy Hall, I listened quietly to her speech when an elven woman approached. It was Princess Ignes.
"What's a light faction girl like you doing here in the dead of night?"
Princess Ignes gave me a meaningful look at my words.
"I had a hunch, so I came."
"Huh?"
"I suddenly thought Kara's queen might be the final Great Saintess. And sure enough..."
"So, what's your point?"
At my nonchalant tone, Princess Ignes narrowed her eyes.
"Isn't it too much of a coincidence?"
"That's why it seems ironic."
"Or maybe it's not coincidence at all?"
"Why would you think that?"
"Two of your lovers have become Great Saintesses."
"If you put it that way, sure, it's destiny. Every beauty in the world is my lover. And all Great Saintesses are beauties. Heh."
Princess Ignes ignored my joke and pressed on.
"No, it's three."
"Three?"
"Your fiancée, Princess Sierra."
I let out a deep sigh.
"Why do you people keep doing this?"
"Doing what?"
"Yesterday, one of you tried to turn me into a married man. Now you're adding a fiancée? Are you some marriage scam ring? Why are you so desperate to shove women into my life?"
"What?"
I straightened up and brushed the dust from my collar.
"Cut the nonsense and just go. I'm busy. I have to escort Padilla back to the papal palace. With one Great Saintess missing since yesterday afternoon, security has to be airtight."
As I turned to leave, Princess Ignes called out in a serious voice.
"Wait. Just one more question."
"I said go."
"Answer this, and I'll leave."
I turned back to face her.
"Shoot."
"Why? You have no intention of saving the world from destruction, do you?"
"Destruction? What destruction?"
"Haven't you heard? The Oracle of the Age pointed to doom because of a Valkyrie named Sabondia."
"Yeah, I heard. So?"
"Tell me where she is. You know, don't you?"
I shook my head in disbelief. She must think I'm some psychic. I'd figured out the tail, but not all the way to Sabondia.
"No idea. My turn for a question. Are you sure the Oracle pointed to doom because of Sabondia?"
Princess Ignes nodded as if it were obvious.
"Yes. The Valkyries said so."
"Oh, so if those ladies say it, it's gospel truth?"
"Yes. Valkyries always speak the truth."
I chuckled.
"Doesn't look that way to me. They've used tricks and lies. I saw it myself."
"What?"
"Listen, if you don't want a knife in the back later, keep your wits about you. We've already been fooled a few times. Stay suspicious, watch your surroundings. Unless you want to end up the fool. Take care. That's all the advice I can give."
I left Princess Ignes standing there, dazed. There was nothing more to say. Plenty came to mind, but she'd never believe me anyway—it'd just be a waste of breath.
The events at Divinum Cathedral were nearly over.
The festival was still ongoing, but with the Holy Hall ceremony complete, there was no reason to stay.
The church side seemed eager for Padilla to join the pilgrimage of asceticism, but I ignored them. It was pointless anyway, and absurd for a queen to commit to an event that could last nearly a year.
"Ah, finally heading back."
Sister Armida looked greatly relieved at the thought of returning to Kara. She'd been on edge since the Uroboros incident.
Packing my things, I said,
"Yeah. Nothing beats home, right?"
"That's not what I meant!"
"Then what?"
Sister Armida snorted.
"You asking because you don't know? Do you have any idea how much I've suffered because of you?"
"But it all worked out, didn't it?"
"Worked out? I've been marked by Lady Nemisona. She won't even see me."
"Really? What about Katrinah?"
"No audience at all. Friends say Nemisona hasn't left her quarters out of embarrassment."
"Why?"
"Her pride's in tatters. Humiliated by a human like you, her dispatched Uroboros smashed to bits, and then you mockingly ask for ten more."
I smacked my lips.
"When did I mock? I said I'd remove my mask as thanks if she sent them. Pretty tempting offer."
"You hate taking it off that much?"
"Nah, just annoying. Anyway, aren't they hiding something from us? It's obvious they're plotting a backstab—where's the scheme coming from?"
Sister Armida's eyes widened.
"Backstab? Who?"
"Something like that. Just trust me and play dumb, sis. I'll get us home safe."
A knock came at the door. I clamped my mouth shut and opened it.
Shura stood outside.
"Master. Sir Izenberg is waiting outside the hotel."
"Izenberg?"
"Yes."
"Got it."
A faint smile tugged at my lips as I headed out. If Sir Izenberg had business with me, it was one thing only.
Lately, the Central Church had been reeling from the Uroboros incident and various other crises.
"Hey, Sir Izenberg. What's up?"
"White Mask. Got time now?"
"For what?"
"Place we need to go together."
"What's the errand?"
"You'll see. Follow me."
Sir Izenberg strode ahead urgently, and I followed.
He led me to a luxurious reception room in the main building. Inside sat three elderly men in ornate robes, sipping tea amid a grave discussion.
"I've brought White Mask."
One elder gestured to a chair.
"Both of you, sit."
"Yes."
I sat before them and exchanged greetings.
These were the archbishops of each faction: Granser, Mernan, and Sarko.
I smiled slyly. The real power behind the Central Church had gathered. The pope merely reigned; these men pulled the strings.
Light Archbishop Granser set down his teacup and addressed me.
"White Mask. Recent events have plunged the Central Church into crisis. Public sentiment is restless, and dissenting priests are hounding us relentlessly."
"I know the gist. You old-timers will have to tough it out a bit."
Darkness Archbishop Mernan glanced at me.
"Sir Izenberg told us something intriguing."
"What?"
"The inside story of this incident and your proposed solution."
"Oh, pouring oil on troubled waters to calm the masses while rooting out the shady groups?"
"Exactly."
I crossed my arms.
"But you know things have escalated, right? A Great Saintess went missing recently."
"Indeed."
"That's thrown a wrench in everything."
"How so?"
"We need to find Arieta the Great Saintess too, but even if we locate her, we can't bring her back. Higher-ups orchestrated it."
The three elders sighed in unison. Right—the plan fell apart without the Great Saintesses, but retrieval was impossible.
Solving the incident wouldn't end it. Reformist priests would cling to the missing Saintess.
"You're sure the higher-ups took her?"
"Yeah."
"Evidence?"
"What I can say is that in the sky city Chronos, they know the locations of the 7 Divine Artifacts for sure. But no matter how much you inquire upward, no straight answers. They're behind it. And you can't tell anyone else. The moment Arieta's situation leaks, the higher-ups will flip out."
The three groaned. To quell the crisis, find Arieta—but don't. Total deadlock.
Granser, frustrated, asked,
"Any way to persuade them?"
"If even I'm keeping quiet, figure it out. Knowing that much could get your heads on pikes. Persuasion? Might as well advertise 'arrest me.' Solve it another way."
"How?"
"Who's causing the trouble? Reformists, right?"
"Yes."
"And those reformist priests? Mostly sidelined fringe elements from Central authority."
Granser nodded.
"True."
"So they've been resentful from the start. Excluded from power. Poke them discreetly in various ways. They'll quiet down."
They all waved it off in sync.
"Can't. Some stickler catches the bribes and we're deeper in trouble."
"Jeez. Who said poke crudely? Poke smart and spicy."
"How?"
"Simple. Pour a massive new oil slick while poking."
I pulled a large map from my subspace pouch and unfurled it. Mernan asked,
"Where's this island?"
"Jores Island. Kara's pushing development, but short on funds and labor. Big enough for a whole nation."
"And?"
"Church joins in, scales it up. Construction creates tons of Central Church posts. Slot reformists in—they get hats, grab their own bribes. Busybodies too swamped to complain. But the real key? The oil slick effect."
Mernan's eyes twitched.
"Focus all eyes here?"
"Bingo."
"Will it work?"
"Scale it huge, yes. This island's a goldmine. Controls Prosia continent—no, world economy."
"How big?"
"Think current Kara's scale. All world trade to Prosia funnels through here. Even bigger. Big ships open sea routes—trade volume explodes hundreds, thousands-fold. Revolutionary. Eyes will roll."
I spread a world map, drawing slant lines between ports. Sea trade connected. The archbishops stroked their chins, intrigued.
"Makes sense."
"I'll tell Padilla to open it as a free trade city. Church provides funds, labor, armed forces against monsters."
I outlined the plan: walls encircling the island, roads, warehouses, fortresses, railroads, housing. Plus entertainment, tourism, commerce zones.
"Church's gains?"
"Exploration ships ongoing—trade routes done in ten years. Hand over major share then. But real profit's elsewhere. You know."
The archbishops grinned slyly.
"We do."
"And hype it big. Inflate. Say we found gold or silver veins—who wouldn't on this land? 'God-prepared for humanity.' With two Great Saintesses involved, perfect pretext."
Plans clicking in their heads, they nodded. Jores Island developed changes history. Spice right, all eyes here.
Finished, it becomes world trade hub, land of human greed.
"No worries. We get it."
Yeah, they'd handle it. Their expertise.
"Broker fees aren't bribes. No need for sly pokes. Hit 'em straight and hard. Got it?"
"Got it. Noted."
"Okay. Good."
I grinned triumphantly. Jores Island developed on their dime—funds freed for Great Desert railroad.
Bastain army deterred too. No one wars with world church over it.
Pity sharing trade rights in ten years, but their trade? Not my problem. If they trade, I'm grateful.
Padilla Becomes a Great Saintess. End