A Father's Plea
Cheska realized it. The words "Inquisition, Ninth Branch" meant the same thing as the ninth prison. Following Dominic deeper and further down, she saw people clad in rags that could hardly be called clothes, locked in narrow cells with thick shackles on both hands and feet, their appearances utterly wretched.
At the same time, a question arose in Cheska's mind. Why build such a massive prison beneath these back alleys?
Dominic, who had been walking ahead, glanced back at her and spoke to Benedict.
"Benedict. Still haven't fixed that bad habit of yours? The saintess candidate here looks like she had no idea where we were going."
"I didn't expect her to come all the way down here. I thought we'd only be checking briefly and leaving."
Dominic clicked his tongue and scolded Benedict.
"That's your problem. Always going 'I can't say yet~' or 'It's not time yet~' and keeping everyone in the dark. It drives the people around you mad."
He mimicked Benedict's tone in a teasing manner.
"I guarantee it—you do the same to your saintess candidate daughter, don't you? Once she grows up a bit, her rebellion will be cute at first, but she'll definitely run away from home."
"Haha, surely that won't happen."
"Listen well. I'm giving you serious advice. That's enough of that. Let's satisfy the saintess candidate's curiosity instead."
Just because a clergyman committed a sin didn't mean the inquisitors would automatically get involved. Theft, embezzlement, assault—those were handled by the security forces or the knight orders. The inquisitors only moved when the crime was truly heinous.
"Though much has changed throughout history, the fundamentals remain the same."
Those who walked the path of corruption themselves. Those who deceived people with false doctrines. Those who had literally become "heretics." Evildoers who casually committed acts no human should ever do.
"The branches of the Inquisition are where such people are judged and made to pay for their sins."
But among them, the Ninth Branch was special. A kind of maximum-security prison.
"Since I manage this place personally, it's where we lock up the worst of the worst."
Leaders of evil cults, those who sacrificed hundreds as living offerings, those who attempted to assassinate the Pope, and so on.
"When someone reaches that level of villainy, their infamy becomes a kind of fame, and followers start appearing."
Or they gather followers first and commit their atrocities together.
"If the head gets caught, the followers have two choices: pick a new head, or rescue the old one."
That was why the prison was hidden in a place like this—to prevent followers from breaking the criminals out.
Cheska had a new question at this point.
"If you just execute them on the spot instead of capturing them alive..."
Then why bother with a prison at all?
"You're thinking too simply, saintess candidate. Stubbornness is a virtue for knights, but you mustn't let it swallow you whole and turn you foolish."
Along with his sharp criticism, Dominic pointed out what she had overlooked.
"Even villains are people. That expression is pretty funny, but I can't think of a better way to put it. Khahaha."
Even villains are people. When people need each other, they join forces. Individuals become groups, and groups become factions.
"This organization makes a deal with that one, that one uses the payment to do something else, and they grow their power with it."
At the very least, there should be some sense of loyalty. But villains weren't villains for nothing.
"They have no loyalty whatsoever. Most of them spill everything when you beat them down."
Dominic smiled kindly at Benedict and Cheska, but the message was clear: he showed no mercy to heretics and evildoers.
"And this is the most important part."
Dominic's eyes gleamed in the darkness as he spoke in a chilling voice about one of the prison's most crucial purposes.
"They too must taste hell. If they've dragged others into the abyss... then death would be a luxury."
Cheska looked at the prisoners as she passed their cells. Every face was twisted in agony. Some repeatedly muttered pleas to be killed. These were people living through hell while still alive.
"Originally, that was the end of it."
Dominic began to add more explanation and turned to Benedict, as if seeking permission to continue. Was it all right to tell Cheska this much?
Benedict nodded. After all, whether she liked it or not, she was now bound to be involved.
"Saintess candidate. You heard earlier, didn't you? That I can sense the Seed."
"Yes."
"Coming here essentially means 'ruin.' That's why, when we capture heretics and villains who belong in this place, we end up discovering or sensing them—those things that are no longer mere Seeds, inside their bodies, around them, or among their belongings."
"So we've collected every possible piece of information about the Seeds of Ruin."
Before they knew it, they had arrived at their destination after the long explanation. A door through which faint holy power flowed. Dominic had placed a holy barrier so that no one but those he permitted could enter.
"You probably don't know about this place either, Benedict. I created it about ten years ago without consulting you."
The Seed of Sin reacted to a person's emotions and amplified them in the worst possible direction. The problem was that you never knew which emotion would trigger it. It couldn't be removed, and if left to grow, it wouldn't stop until both the victim and everyone around them were driven to ruin.
"But it was possible to stop it."
Levia removing the one inside Cheska had been the first case they knew of.
Dominic wore a bitter expression as he dispelled the barrier and stepped inside.
There—dozens of people lay asleep, surrounded by holy power.
Benedict asked Dominic in surprise.
"How did you...?"
"Her Holiness helped."
Until now, Dominic had been the only one capable of sensing the Seed of Sin.
"At the very least, we have to save those we can before it's too late."
It was closer to protection than salvation, but Benedict felt a pang of pity as he looked at them.
However... this was...
"Dominic."
"I know. Broadly speaking, it solves nothing. We don't know how many more are scattered across this vast world. Protecting just a few dozen people is like pouring water into a bottomless jar—I know that well."
Even so, while protecting them, Dominic had to learn everything he could about the Seeds of Ruin.
Benedict finally understood. The claim that there was another way wasn't a lie. Seeing Cheska's expression harden the moment she entered, he confirmed that she, like Dominic, had gained the ability to sense the Seed of Sin.
But there had been another reason for bringing them here.
"Is it because of Saintess Candidate Benika?"
Desperation.
"...Yes. As you know, that child also has a Seed of Sin planted inside her."
Dominic could only sense it; he couldn't pinpoint it exactly. He had made up a plausible excuse and burned all her belongings despite knowing it would earn her resentment, but he could still feel it. He could only guess that it had been implanted directly into her body.
"I must remove the one planted in that child, no matter what."
She might be able to overcome it like Dominic had. But that was nothing more than a slim possibility.
Dominic bowed his head toward Benedict.
"Please help me."
"...So you're placing your hopes on the fact that Levia removed the Seed, aren't you, Dominic?"
"Yes. If you wish, I will support your saintess candidate instead of Benika."
"That... I don't think Levia would want it."
Currently, each cardinal had adopted and nominated one saintess candidate. What the cardinals sought through their candidates varied. Some wanted honor, some power, some to fulfill their wishes.
Benedict asked why Dominic was making this request even at the cost of Benika's candidacy.
"Haha. I guess I'm in no position to lecture you about not sharing secrets."
Dominic let out a self-deprecating laugh. He too was a man with many secrets, and there were many things he hadn't told the young cardinal before him.
Dominic briefly set aside the mask of the Grand Inquisitor he had worn for so long. Hope had appeared before his eyes. The mask of the inquisitor would be of no help now.
"Benika Arendia is publicly known as the saintess candidate I adopted and nominated."
"But that's not the truth."
Dominic recalled the day he first met that child. That small, precious child.
"That child, Benika... is my blood relative."
Without his mask, Dominic's bare face was that of a father filled with worry for his child.
"Until now, there were no signs... but it could happen tomorrow. Or perhaps it's already begun, and I simply failed to notice."
"Your daughter, Levia Leviathan, is my only hope."
"Please, stop my daughter's ruin before it comes for her."