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The refreshing sunlight poured through the window. The spring sun welcoming the early morning was too intense to accept with a groggy mind.

Catching the fluffiness of the blanket, Camila curled up in the dead center of the bed.

“Camila.”

For a moment, a gentle knock echoed. It was soon followed by mumblings that sounded like a newborn’s cooing.

“Just a minute…”

“It’s morning. You need to get up soon.”

“Just 5 more minutes… just 5 more…”

What to do with that mischievous little troublemaker?

I sighed while glaring at the tightly shut door.

“Lucia is waiting for you. If you don’t get ready now, you’ll be late.”

“Uuugh….”

“Come on, get up already…”

Despite my earnest plea, the only response I received was some sleepy muttering about ’10 more minutes…’.

After staring at the door, looking as though it had aged three years without opening, I decided to throw out bait that would tantalize Camila’s interest.

“If you’re late, there won’t be a welcome feast.”

With a bang!

The door flung open, and a bleary face popped out. Camila appeared in her pajamas, holding the doorknob and locking eyes with me.

“When do we need to leave?”

“We need to leave within 50 minutes.”

“I’ll shower now!”

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Episode 14 – One Religion, One Faith, Two Saints

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A glorious day has come.

In the distance, the sun rises, burning away the fog and blessing the dew-laden gravel path with a brilliant dawn.

Sunlight, breaking into hexagons through the tiny dust on the glass, adds to the fatigue-laden weight over my eyelids.

Struggling to keep my eyelids, now heavier than ever, open, a gentle voice tickles my ear.

Francesca.

“Are you tired?”

“Yes, I’m a bit sleepy.”

As I rubbed my eyes to chase away the drowsiness, Francesca approached to speak.

She looked distinctly different from her usual self.

Her hair, tied up as if melted amethyst, was adorned with a variety of cosmetics.

The garment crafted by a renowned tailor harmonized beautifully with her beauty. A brown suit added vigor to her transparent skin—enhancing what could otherwise seem palely complemented by pastel hues and checks perfectly.

With such an outstanding appearance and rigorous self-care, Francesca shone even more brightly.

Awed by the energizing sight, I smirked and complimented Francesca, who sat in front of me, playfully.

“You certainly made an effort today.”

“I’ve always been like this.”

Francesca lifted her head slightly, responding calmly. Just like always, she exuded confidence. I smiled gently and turned my gaze to the window.

On our way to the Cathedral where the canonization ceremony was being held.

The streets packed with people had no room to spare. Climbing aboard the carriage provided by the Cult, we slowly made our way through the throngs, escorted by the police.

“There are so many people gathered.”

“It’s a global event.”

“True, it’s the Cult’s festival.”

The canonization ceremony of one of the world’s three major religions is, quite literally, a worldwide event.

Priests and monks had obviously been eagerly anticipating the ceremony, and both believers and non-believers flocked from various locations to witness it.

In a world where divine powers exist, the influence of religion was indeed formidable.

I let out a quiet sigh as I observed the clogged road ahead.

“If we had left just 30 minutes earlier, we wouldn’t be stuck like this. And it’s all because of whom….”

“Hehe…”

Camila scratched her cheek sheepishly.

“That’s why I told you to sleep early and rise early.”

“I couldn’t sleep because I was too nervous….”

As Lucia’s canonization ceremony drew closer, Camila couldn’t contain her excitement.

Having lived a lifetime on this planet and tasted the wonders of magic that she had seen only in movies, Camila often said that every day felt new.

She found herself curious about what incidents had occurred the previous night as soon as she woke up and what awaited her that day. This time, she seemed eager to find out what kinds of events might unfold during the canonization.

Having seen all sorts of oddballs while working at the Information Agency, I can confidently say that Camila was one of the more unique characters among those oddballs.

By the way, one of those top five oddballs was sitting right in front of me.

“If you typically didn’t stay up so late, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Chee!”

The English girl with pouting lips grumbled.

“Still! Taking our time and enjoying the sights isn’t so bad!”

“We’ve agreed to call this traffic jam.”

“Oh, come on, that’s just too much!”

After shaking with frustration, Camila ultimately moved to the corner, sulking. Seeing her like that made Francesca start to softly chuckle.

“Don’t scold her too much, Colonel. You’re not in a position to talk, are you?”

“What have I done to warrant that remark?”

“Take a look in the mirror.”

Her slender fingers softly brushed by her eyes, and Francesca continued with her inquiry.

“Your dark circles have dropped all the way down to your chin.”

“…Ah.”

“What were you doing last night to suddenly have dark circles under your eyes?”

I stared blankly out the window.

Then, I regained my composure and began to speak.

“Um, I had a bit of a quarrel with someone.”

“With Colonel? Did you lose?”

“Of course not.”

As the Minister of National Defense of the Republic of Korea would say, fights are to be fought until the enemy submits.

…Although that kind of submission is a bit different from what I meant.

*

It was customary for canonization ceremonies to take place at Altiora Cathedral, but the Cult decided to hold this canonization ceremony at the Cathedral of Tranquille.

The rule of one saint per era was broken.

According to church law, the canonization ceremony should be held at the Altiora Cathedral, where saints had lived for generations, but the owner of Altiora Cathedral was Saint Veronica, who was canonized over a decade ago.

The prevailing opinion in the religious community was that with the current owner still alive, they couldn’t admit a new one, hence the Holy See chose the Cathedral of Tranquille as the venue for Lucia’s canonization.

For reference, Cardinal Raphael’s coronation is set to take place at Medius Cathedral, the residence of the Pope.

With the birth of a new saint, the Cathedral of Tranquille has been elevated to cathedral status.

As I looked at the cathedral I had revisited, I couldn’t help but exclaim in awe.

“Wow….”

It feels like just yesterday that I had hidden here to meet the reclusive Lucia, and now it is already the day of the canonization ceremony.

I wasn’t the only one caught in such reverie. Camila, who had been sulking, was now chattering away, taking in the grand cathedral’s scenery.

“Wow. It’s beautiful every time I see it. Will Lucia be living here from now on?”

“That’s right. She’s the only owner of the cathedral.”

Canonized saints receive many privileges from the Cult. They gain political influence and are treated with the same esteem as state guests, akin to that of the Pope.

One of those perks is the right to use the cathedral as a residence.

Some may criticize how a religious figure can become the owner of a church, claiming they have become tainted by the secular world, but this has been an established tradition for centuries.

Saints of the Cult hold the right to reside in the cathedral as descendants favored by the divine and can live there for as long as they desire until they pass away.

A prime example is Veronica. She became the owner of the Altiora Cathedral right after her canonization and continues to reside there. While she faces criticism for only claiming her rights and neglecting her duties when it suits her, no one dares to deny her authority as a saint.

Well, either way, it’s all irrelevant to me.

The people suffering from Veronica’s transgressions and negligence aren’t me—they’re the Pope and the high-ranking clergy.

In any case.

We made our way to the Cathedral of Tranquille, where the canonization ceremony would be held.

The gazes of clergy from various places and representatives from different nations followed us like a tail. However, we paid no attention to it at all.

Camila was a free spirit that could rival any hippie, and Francesca was well-acquainted with being in the spotlight as a celebrity.

I was no exception either.

It’s only natural for spies to attract attention.

However, what I was concerned about was.

“Colonel Frederick.”

Not the gaze of the impersonators.

“The Duke requests your presence.”

*

The thick smoke filled the room.

An ashtray piled high with cigarettes emitted a horrid stench. Yet lying on the floor was a whiskey bottle that had an even more potent aroma.

With the heavy scent of alcohol and tobacco smoke lingering in the air.

The woman seated carelessly poured until her glass was brimming, not caring at all.

Her hand gripped the crystal glass without hesitation.

For a moment, the gulp echoed obscenely. The woman, filled to the brim with drink, wiped her mouth with her sleeve and exclaimed.

“Ugh…!”

Thud!

Veronica slammed down her glass and muttered with a flushed face.

“Damn it… raising a daughter is pointless… those brats are a double trouble…”

“…Saint, you really should stop drinking and head out now.”

Despite the priest’s pleading advice, the saint made no response.

“Ugh…! This, this useless piece of trash….”

As Veronica lay her head down on the table, sniffles began to escape her.

The priest watching her quietly closed his eyes and clasped his hands together.

Oh God, please strike her down with a bolt of lightning to bring her to her senses.

 

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