Calamity and Miracle
Not long after Sena’s tears finally stopped, ten knights came thundering in. They must have heard the sounds of the fight.
“B-Bishop…?”
The knights stared in pure disbelief at Ritvel, who now looked like a strawberry-jam-smeared pancake.
In the blink of an eye the ten of them had drawn their weapons and ringed us in, every face tight with tension.
“Stand back, Saintess! We will rescue you this instant!”
Unlike the earlier lot, these men truly looked ready to throw their lives away to protect her.
“W-wait!”
Sena stepped forward and called out to them.
“This man only fled with me because I asked him to! The bad one is that guy over there!”
She pointed straight at Ritvel. The knights blinked, then whirled on me.
“You demon! What silver tongue did you use to deceive the Saintess?!”
“Saintess! Do not listen to that man!”
Given how abruptly Sena’s attitude toward Ritvel had flipped, their reaction was hardly surprising. They still had no idea I was already in contact with the Papacy—if they had known, Ritvel would have known too.
“I-it’s true! Everything—running away, all of it—was because of him!”
“Saintess. Please step away for now. It is dangerous at that man’s side.”
Words were useless against them. Sena stamped her feet in frustration and looked back at me.
“W-what do we do?”
“For a Saintess, you don’t seem to command much trust.”
“Is it because I’m still a child…?”
“Appearances aren’t something you can ignore.”
Sena’s head drooped.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to be even a little help to you, Inquisitor…”
“Don’t worry about it. There are plenty of ways to handle this. If nothing else works, I’ll just thrash the lot of them.”
“…What?”
One of the knights demanded,
“What exactly do you intend to do after kidnapping the Saintess?”
“I merely gave her the right to choose a better future.”
“Kidnapping the Saintess is…? What nonsense—”
“Shut it.”
I let my eyes go cold and fixed them with a hard stare.
“I have no desire to listen to garbage from the likes of you.”
A faint wave of killing intent rolled out; the knights swallowed hard.
“You are the knights sworn to protect the Saintess of Prophecy. Not the bishop’s dogs.”
“……”
“Yet you knew nothing and still deluded yourselves that simply watching her counted as protection.”
In my previous life they had only found Sena after she had already bled out and died. Without me, it would have been the same this time.
“Why did you never suspect the bishop closest to her? Why did you fail to notice this man rotting from the inside out?”
“……”
“You failed to protect both her spirit and her body. I have to wonder what exactly those heads of yours are for.”
The knights exchanged uneasy glances. The one who had faced me before spoke carefully.
“Then… you truly did not kidnap the Saintess, but protected her?”
“She already told you as much. You’re the ones who treated her like a child and refused to believe her.”
“……”
“But don’t worry. I’ll make it simple enough even idiots like you can understand.”
I reached into my coat; the knights flinched and tensed again.
I watched them steadily.
“Come at me if you like. I’ll only beat you within an inch of your lives.”
“……”
“Shame. That was your chance to get smarter.”
When no one moved, I clicked my tongue and pulled out the communication magic tool. The moment I activated it, Barun’s voice came through.
“Yes, Inquisitor.”
“I’ve captured Bishop Ritvel. I didn’t kill him, so come collect him.”
“Whew, glad it ended well. Is the Saintess unharmed?”
“Aside from the waterworks, she’s fine. I’m more worried the knights guarding her are about to get a thrashing from me.”
“Ah… I see. That won’t do. I’ll handle it.”
Barun understood me instantly. Almost impressive.
I tossed the tool to the nearest knight.
“Take it. It’s Cardinal Barun.”
“Y-yes?”
The knight snatched it in a panic. This was probably the first time any of them had ever held a communication magic tool. In the Holy Empire, magic tools were nearly as rare as magic itself.
They spoke for a short while. The knight kept bowing repeatedly even though Barun couldn’t see him, while the cardinal calmly explained the situation.
“Y-yes! Understood!”
At the knight’s silent gesture the others sheathed their swords.
“Yes, yes! Please go ahead! Yes! Yes!”
I wondered how many times a man needed to bow. Then again, a cardinal did hold that much authority—and Barun was one of the more influential among them.
Looking deeply relieved, the knight approached and handed the tool back.
“My deepest apologies, Inquisitor Cael. We had no idea there was such profound intent…”
The knights behind him bowed with formal precision as well.
“Forget it. Your stupidity is what let Ritvel slip through in the first place.”
“Haha… I have no room to argue.”
The knight then dropped to one knee so his eyes were level with Sena’s.
“I must also apologize to the Saintess. Our incompetence caused you such suffering.”
“N-no!”
Sena shook her head vigorously.
“Bishop Ritvel is the one at fault. You knights did nothing wrong.”
“Even so, I am sorry. That is all I can—”
I casually smacked the back of the knight’s head that was filling my view. His face jerked forward.
He spun around in shock.
“What…?”
“Sorry. Bear with it.”
“Pardon?”
“You lot tired me out.”
I wasn’t actually tired. In my previous life I had learned how to sleep while on the run, and I had the sacred relic sandals now as well.
“Ah… I see.”
“We’re leaving. Bring the unconscious bishop yourselves.”
“Yes.”
I turned to go, then paused as a thought struck me.
“Is my sub-deacon all right?”
“Ah, yes. She is currently imprisoned in the diocese basement.”
“How is that ‘all right’? If prison is so pleasant, shall I throw you in next?”
“I-I’m sorry!”
“Did you starve her?”
I had been forced to abandon Bella without explanation. She might have been too worried to eat properly.
“No, sir. We served her meals several times a day. Thanks to that she has been sleeping quite well.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
I stared at the knight for a long moment, then nodded.
“She really has been living well.”
My sub-deacon, who could thrive anywhere even without me.
Let her go without meat for a while.
The Papacy.
The Pope and several cardinals had gathered in the chamber that housed the Original Bible.
After months of silence, new words from the Goddess were being inscribed once more.
While light still shimmered across the Original Bible, the Pope spoke.
“So Bishop Ritvel truly intended to kill the Saintess of Prophecy.”
“Yes, Your Holiness.”
“We entrusted her to him because he had raised her since before she became the Saintess of Prophecy. I never imagined such a problem would arise.”
Saintesses normally belonged to the Papacy and served the Goddess. Freedom was guaranteed, of course, yet that fundamental truth never changed—precisely because a Stigma could still be abused for private gain, just as it had been here.
Barun answered.
“Even in his mercenary days the man was under suspicion for various crimes. He was cleared at the time and rose as high as bishop, but looking back, he may have used some underhanded means to slip through then as well.”
“Indeed. This time he planned to kill the Saintess of Prophecy and escape the charge entirely.”
“Yes.”
The Pope briefly folded his hands and closed his eyes.
“We must give thanks to Inquisitor Cael for this matter. Without him we would have lost the Saintess of Prophecy for nothing.”
“Exactly—and in the worst possible way: suicide.”
The same Stigma could not exist twice in a single era. Only when the current bearer of a Stigma ascended could a new Saintess be born. Even if the present Saintess died, there was no guarantee another would appear soon.
The Pope opened his eyes.
“Yet it is truly mysterious. Why does Inquisitor Cael always appear at the critical moment and resolve the crisis?”
“I suspect that is precisely why his name is being written in the Original Bible.”
“The ‘Era of Upheaval’… It truly feels as though this world is quietly beginning to churn from beneath the surface.”
The Pope turned back to the Original Bible. The light had fully faded; the recording was complete.
He examined the newly written verses.
3-1. Once more the watercourse changes.
The water that should have plunged into the abyss of ruin strikes a great boulder and carves its own path forward.
By that courage, streams that never should have met will intertwine.
What, then, is there to fear? The greatest weapon of humankind is the bond of fate.
The Pope reasoned through the sacred text.
“This passage likely speaks of the Saintess of Prophecy overcoming the trial set before her. The great boulder must be Inquisitor Cael.”
“Yes. The timing aligns as well.”
The cardinals all agreed. They moved on to the next record.
3-2. Yet the weapon called bonds will at times pierce one’s own throat.
Unable to let go, one hangs from the thread; loving too deeply, one drinks the poison; losing it, one harbors wrath.
3-3. Countless streams flow without rest toward some destination.
Even if one path is blocked and a meeting twisted, they will encounter one another again at another point.
Cael, scion of Luminara, is a great river that inevitably touches many streams.
He is both the calamity that sweeps all away and the miracle that will become a water source for many.
Where he arrives will depend upon his bonds and his resolve.
After reading the final verse, the Pope’s gaze deepened.
“Calamity and miracle… This is no different from a prophecy.”
The cardinals swallowed dryly and nodded.
Every one of them already understood that Cael was a double-edged sword—reliable as an ally, yet utterly unpredictable if he ever became an enemy. And now even the Original Bible itself called him both calamity and miracle; the tension only sharpened.
Barun asked,
“Does Your Holiness have any inkling of what this prophecy means?”
“No. Even I do not know at present. However…”
The Pope looked at Barun with clear, sincere eyes.
“Something that will shake Inquisitor Cael’s heart is certain to occur before long.”
“Yes. I believe so as well.”
“Cardinal Barun, inform him of this at once. Given how things have turned out, we have no choice but to share matters concerning the Bible.”
Barun had already secretly told Cael about the Bible before, but he saw no need to mention it now.
“Yes, Your Holiness. I shall take my leave first.”
As Barun hurried from the chamber, another cardinal voiced concern.
“Your Holiness… is it truly wise for him to know about the Bible?”
“Yes.”
The Pope nodded and began to walk.
“At the very least he must have the chance to recognize the trial.”
The cardinals tilted their heads at the cryptic words, then quickly followed.
The bishop’s office of the Ritvel diocese.
I looked across at Bella’s glossy, well-fed skin.
“Sub-deacon Bella. Looks like you lived quite comfortably.”
“Haha… I trusted that you would handle everything, Inquisitor, so I decided the best thing was to eat well, sleep well, and wait for orders.”
If that was her reasoning, I had nothing more to say.
“Anyway, excellent work, Inquisitor! Forming a plan like that in such a short time—you really are amazing!”
“Yeah. And you did a fine job eating and sleeping yourself.”
“Urgh…”
Bella made a small sound of protest and lowered her eyes. I snorted a quiet laugh.
“Sub-deacon Bella.”
“…Yes?”
“You’ve had it rough. In more ways than one.”
She had carried out every order I gave without a single question, and nearly perfectly at that. Finding another sub-deacon this versatile—singing aside—would be difficult.
Bella blinked her large eyes.
“Th-thank… you…?”
“What, you think you haven’t suffered?”
“No… it’s just, um…”
She scratched her cheek, then nodded and beamed.
“That’s a good thing!”
At that moment a knight knocked and entered. He reported to me,
“Bishop Ritvel has been transferred to the Papacy under escort.”
“I see.”
I glanced at Sena, who was still nibbling cake beside me.
“From now on you will work under Cardinal Barun. It probably won’t be all that different from your time with Bishop Ritvel.”
“Is Cardinal Barun a good person?”
“Who knows. I can’t say, but he seems to treat useful people well enough.”
“Th-then I’ll work hard…!”
Sena clenched her small fists. I snorted and offered some advice.
“Before that, cut your hair.”
I brushed her long bangs back with my hand. Her bright, clear eyes came into view.
“What good is seeing the future if you can’t even see what’s right in front of you?”
Sena flailed both hands upward in a panic.
“I-I’ll cut it, so please let go… I’m still not very good at it…”
“I see.”
When I released her, the long bangs fell over her eyes once more.
After a brief sigh of relief she asked,
“W-would it be all right if I looked at your future, Inquisitor?”
“My future?”
“Yes. Even if I’m still clumsy at looking ahead, I can still see the future.”
I already knew many futures from my previous life, but I had altered so many of them that situations I didn’t know about could still arise. There was no harm in checking the changed future.
“Please.”
“Yes.”
Sena took one of my hands in both of hers and closed her eyes. The eye-shaped Stigma on the back of her hand glowed faintly.
Silence stretched for a while—until the communication magic tool in my coat chimed. I pulled it out with my free hand.
“It’s me.”
“Inquisitor Cael. Where are you right now?”
“The diocese office. We just finished wrapping things up.”
“Has anything suspicious happened? Even something minor is fine.”
“Nothing in particular. Why…?”
That was when it happened.
“Haaah!!”
Sena, still reading my future, recoiled with a violent start and pressed herself flat against the sofa. She trembled as if she had seen something she was never meant to see.
I narrowed my eyes. That was no ordinary reaction.
“What future did you see?”
Sena swallowed hard and answered.
“Y-you… getting angry, Inquisitor… It’s pitch black so I can’t see your face, but I can tell for certain. You’re far more furious than you were with Bishop Ritvel…”
…Days like that weren’t exactly rare.
“More detail.”
Sena carefully pieced together the vision she had just witnessed.
“A burned-out mansion. One corpse so ruined you can’t even tell what it used to be. You’re standing right in the middle of it all…”
Those words alone told me roughly what future it was. I clenched my teeth and forced down the emotion that tried to leak out.
“Anything that might indicate the time or date?”
Even the Stigma of Prophecy could not pinpoint exact dates and times. Just as with the first future Sena had ever seen.
She hummed thoughtfully while replaying the vision, then her eyes flew open.
“A full moon…! There’s a full moon in the night sky…!”
I shot to my feet and flung the window open. The moon overhead sat somewhere between a half-moon and a full one.
Roughly three days from now. If we run without rest, two days should be enough.
But there was a problem.
Not a mansion that was burning—a mansion that had already burned. If I arrived on schedule, I would already be too late.
There was no time to waste.
“Sub-deacon Bella!”
“Already packed!”
“Hurry.”
Barun, who had been listening over the communication tool, confirmed in a grave voice,
“Luminara Territory?”
“Most likely.”
“Who on earth…?”
“The Evil Book Society…!”
I ground my teeth.
It could only be them. They were probably trying to get their hands on my family in order to target me.
With Alturo there I wasn’t overly worried, yet something still nagged at me.
“Cardinal Barun, please send a letter to the mansion.”
“I just sent it.”
Of course—he had started writing the moment he heard Sena’s words.
“Thank you. I’ll contact you again.”
“Yes.”
I slipped the tool back into my coat and turned on my heel.
“Inquisitor!”
Just as I was about to leave the office, the knight called out.
“I will bring the other knights and follow.”
“M-me too! This time I’ll be useful!”
I forced my emotions down first. Moments like these demanded cold precision.
“Please. Bring Sena with you.”
“Yes. Leave it to us.”
“P-please be careful!”
Bella and I raced toward the Luminara mansion.
This time would be very different from the previous life. The ones who would suffer instead… were them.