“Are you certain of this information, Saintess? Though it has already been announced…”

“I have confirmed it with my own eyes, Your Eminence. Even the Pope probably didn’t see this coming.”

Illya didn’t even bother to honor the Pope with respectful language anymore. In her tone and the chill on her face, Austin read her true feelings and could only sigh deeply.

“To think that someone could deceive the stigmata, it’s terrifying. Now I truly fear that man.”

Austin had been respectful to the Pope while in the dungeons, but now had discarded such formalities. As an ally who shared his purpose, Illya found his change welcoming, yet she couldn’t manage a smile—the priest’s visage was rife with utter despair. And this wasn’t only due to the issue of the counterfeited stigmata.

“It seems I’ve lived too easily in this world. I thought that even if things went slightly awry, if I worked hard, everything would resolve smoothly…”

Illya could only silently watch the Cardinal in front of her.

He was a priest who had spent his life believing and practicing the doctrine so diligently that most of the Holy City’s people would know of him. He had dedicated himself to doing good all his life.

Did he never have desires? Did he never falter?

Who could say that his life, faithfully endured for nearly 70 years, was easy?

But the current reality could not be resolved with mere purity.

“I thought if we had sufficient evidence for impeachment, the discerning priests would follow suit. But…”

His sigh was as deep as his disappointment.

“How can this be? We’re all servants of the same God. Is this not a betrayal of God’s will, tied to the reality of power?”

His pouring grievances referred to the initial impeachment scenario. Although he received substantial support from the lower rank priests and novices, surprisingly few from the bishopric, who were eligible to vote, had responded to his plea.

“I am ashamed to have once spoken of hope when everyone claimed the church was corrupt. It was rotten to the core…”

The old priest’s blue eyes swirled with intense anger. Illya, worried that such deep despair might lead him astray, comforted him.

“Hasn’t the situation changed now? The bishops have been contacting me, changing their minds about the vile rumors, especially if the false stigmata is confirmed…”

But Austin, with a grim face, shook his head.

“…That’s not it, Saintess. You need not be considerate of me anymore.”

“What?”

“I am insufficient, but I refuse to be a fool who denies reality even in these circumstances.”

“Your Eminence…”

Her voice was sorrowful, but Austin’s tone became even more impassioned.

“It’s not the blasphemy to God that angers them. It’s their pride, realizing they’ve been deceived. To them, worldly power is more important than the will of God…!”

His face burned with fury. Seeing how this could lead to something dire, Illya urgently raised her voice.

“Your Eminence! Please, calm yourself. At the very least, we have the opportunity to cut off the greatest root of corruption. An opportunity made by you, Eminence. We can change it. We must! All of us!”

Had her words had an effect? Austin, after looking at her for a moment, took a long breath to collect himself.

“…Ha. Yes, that’s right. We must change it. It cannot stay like this. The Gods would rage. No, maybe they already are.”

“Yes?”

“Maybe, the ‘Forsaken’ are already a sign of that.”

“…Yes?”

Illya, taken aback by the sudden subject change, was visibly confused.

“Before the world is entirely forsaken by the Gods, we must first cleanse the church.”

Austin clenched his teeth as if making a vow to himself.

‘To cleanse the church. Yes. Now is the…’

Though his reasoning was uncomfortable, she shared the direction he was aiming for.

“Yes. We must.”

Illya nodded firmly, encouraging the old Cardinal.

Not long after, the day of the impeachment trial dawned.

* * *

The Colosseum, which only opened for grand festivals such as the Pope’s inauguration, opened its gate today on a less fortunate note. But naturally, its notoriety had peaked. It was hardly recorded in the church’s thousands of years of history, an event of impeaching a Pope. Hence, it drew an even larger crowd than usual.

“What will happen?”

“How should I know?”

“But if those rumors are true…”

“Nah, can’t be.”

“Anyway, today, one side will crumble completely, be it the Saintess and Cardinal or His Holiness the Pope…”

Amidst the commotion, residents of the Holy City, along with the priests, had flocked in enormous numbers to the Colosseum. Even 30 tiers of stadium seating could not accommodate everyone; some hung precariously from handrails and exits due to the overflow.

“Don’t push!”

“I’m struggling too!”

“Move back!”

“Ouch! Who hit my head!?”

“Quiet down!”

“Maintain order!”

The Holy Knights maintained a minimum level of order; otherwise, the crowd could have already witnessed accidents amidst its chaos. Close to the Bishopric and Cardinals with voting rights in the tribunal area, it almost seemed like a brawl was underway.

“String up the fraud who deceived the world!”

“Kill those slandering His Holiness the Pope!”

“Fanatics, get out!”

“What, you heretical bunch!?”

As the radical shouts began amidst the highly-placed Holy Knights, the grand announcement thundered across the Colosseum.

– The accused for the tribunal! His Holiness Pope Julio Umberto the First, enter!

With the appearance of today’s protagonist, the response was immediate.

– Wow!

– Put an end to the deceiver!

– Long live His Holiness the Pope!

The noise generated by the crowd, which seemed to exceed 30,000, started to resonate far beyond the Colosseum.

– Silence! We begin the tribunal that decides the fate of the Holy City!

After another booming voice echoed, the chaos began to subside. The subtle authority in the voice quelled the frenzy of the crowd. Most spectators, seated far from the tribunal, were merely bewildered; however, those with a better view recognized the one who had quieted the uproar.

A man with light blonde hair and brown eyes, of an unremarkable appearance for the Holy City. Everyone knew him.

The Shield of God, Harmon Killerbrew—Commander of the Holy Knights, in charge of the city’s security and official force. He was also the commander of the 500,000 soldiers of the church spread across the continent. Known as a superhuman among superhumans, having reached not only the bishopric level of sacred power but also mastering the aura.

At least to the citizens of the Holy City, he was considered the ultimate warrior, surpassing even the Imperial Continent’s Greatest Sword, Tris Hornsby.

– That man’s imposing air seems quite possible indeed.

As everyone recognized him, a haggard-looking Pope entered through the opening gates. Although not yet a prisoner and thus free of chains and cuffs, the Pope’s worn white priestly garb, instead of his usual resplendent robes, made his appearance quite pitiable.

“How terrible. Our leader in such a state…”

“Oh, these ruthless people. Better to kill me instead!”

“Holy Father!”

Tears filled the eyes of a few fanatics at the sight, but most were captivated by a different detail. On the Pope’s right wrist was a golden circle, a stigmata signifying he was chosen by Ageron, the god of gold and commerce. The subtle aura radiating from it was clearly visible to everyone.

“It’s real!”

“The rumors were false!”

“The evidence of a saint!”

“Exactly. How could the Pope…”

As murmurings spread, the pro-Pope Cardinals’ gazes turned unanimously toward a particular spot. They rested upon Cardinal Austin and Illya, who were slightly distant.

“What will you do now, Cardinal Austin!”

“Even as a Saintess, young and inexperienced, how will you face the consequences of slandering His Holiness the Pope!”

“Speak if you have anything to say!”

The Cardinals belonging to the Pope’s faction hurled accusations with refreshed faces, and their voices quickly spread throughout the thousands in the Colosseum.

“The Saintess lied?”

“Cardinal Austin did?”

“No, that can’t be!”

“But the stigmata is genuine.”

In a growing uproar…

“That wicked brat’s dirty trick!”

“Impeach them!”

“What kind of Saintess? She’s surely the fake!”

“Throw them out!!”

With fanatics’ cries, the Colosseum turned into a veritable marketplace of noise. Amidst the ruckus, the Pope, revealing his stigmata, raised his hands.

“Although I’ve experienced such humiliation, I do not wish to blame Cardinal Austin and the Saintess! I choose to believe that they too, merely wanted to confirm the atrocious rumors! So if any seek to blame, let them blame me for failing to guide the church correctly!”

As the Pope knelt, tears streaming, Cardinal Tener Leiny, once called the Pope’s right arm, hurried over and covered the Pope with the discarded robes.

Then Leiny knelt before him.

“Your Holiness’s mercy is witnessed by all. Please halt this spectacle. I, Tener, am deeply moved by your leadership today!”

Proclaiming loud enough for all to hear, eventually the Pope’s left arm, Sam Freeman, and other panicked Cardinals followed suit, echoing the sentiment.

“Lead us once more!”

“The church needs Your Holiness’s leadership!”

“Long live Julio Umberto the First!”

The scene was surreal; it was indistinguishable whether it was a tribunal for impeachment or an adoration service. In the heat of the fanatical fervor, the old priest collapsed, covering his face in his hands.

“Without even starting the real inquiry into his crimes. They’ve fallen for such tricks…”

Hearing his despairing voice, Illya stiffened her expression and stepped forward.

“Commander of the Holy Knights, as a Cardinal, I have a request.”

At her declaration, the gazes of Austin and the other Cardinals turned to Illya.

“How dare you still speak!”

“Does your status as a Saintess forgive all your wrongdoings!”

“Choose your words carefully!”

The Cardinals of the Pope’s faction relentlessly bombarded her; the Colosseum’s crowds also joined in with their cries.

“Yeah! Shut it!”

“Now you still want to say something!”

“Drag out the fake Saintess!”

However…

“I, too, stake my position and request, Commander Harmon. Please consider the Saintess’s appeal.”

When Cardinal Austin supported Illya’s appeal, the commotion subsided momentarily.

“If Cardinal Austin goes so far as to say that…”

“Still, he is…”

Illya might be an unfamiliar Saintess to the residents of the Holy City, but not Austin—a revered old priest trusted more than even the divine stigmata.

This adulation toward Austin’s life temporarily eased the atmosphere, which was close to erupting into a riot. The crowd’s focus was naturally drawn in one direction, but Commander Harmon Killerbrew remained indifferently shaking his head amidst the thousands of gazes.

“The Holy Knights cannot intervene in internal affairs of the church.”

It was the sort of answer expected from someone reputed to be even more upright and rigid than Cardinal Austin. Yet Illya stood firm.

“The Pope is wearing a transparent bracelet on his right arm with the stigmata. It is mimicking the stigmata. I request you use your sword to check if that is true, as only you, the Grand Commander, a neutral party unrelated to this situation and a high-ranking church official, can perform this task.”

Upon her words, even Harmon’s eyes could not help but waver. However, at that moment, the sighing Pope…