Chapter 367


I faithfully followed the teachings to love all neighbors.

Lucia always made an effort to bestow equal love and kindness to people.

But the human heart is a treacherous thing.

Even the Saint, who treated everyone equally, had a favorite.

Of course, she never intended to neglect or look down on others. Before being a saint, Lucia was a priest. As a priest, one should love everyone fairly, right? It wouldn’t do to favor just one person—that simply wouldn’t be acceptable.

Yes.

It was surely like that.

Episode 14 – One Religion, One Faith, Two Saints

“You look amazing, Saint! Take a look in the mirror!”

“…….”

Lucia stared blankly at the mirror presented by the nun.

The saint reflected in the mirror was objectively very beautiful.

With a height that comfortably exceeded the average and a slender figure, she could give off the impression of being frail, but looking at her slightly flushed cheeks made one instinctively realize that she was in good health.

Especially the eyes.

Eyes that seemed to hold an emerald sea. Both profound and warm. Undescribable, yet the glimmering blue beneath her thick eyebrows was anything but ordinary.

As a result, the cardinals and bishops who faced Lucia directly generally assessed her as an extraordinary person.

At just over twenty, Lucia was universally acknowledged as a beauty.

“……”

It was a face she saw every day.

Yet today, her reflection in the mirror felt somewhat awkward, so Lucia subtly averted her gaze from the nun’s mirror.

“What’s wrong, Saint? Do you not like the makeup?”

“No, that’s not it….”

Lucia trailed off, uncharacteristically sensing the worry in the nun’s face.

“Well, it feels a bit strange….”

“Oh, you didn’t normally wear makeup, did you?”

“No.”

Lucia peered sideways at her reflection.

With help from those around her, she was dressed up for the first time, and the slight changes in her appearance felt a bit stuffy and awkward.

However, she couldn’t help but feel that the reflection in the glass was quite beautiful.

To be honest, it wasn’t all that bad.

Her skin seemed a bit more translucent, her eyes looked sharper. Strange, but somehow her impression felt slightly different.

Though the unfamiliarity of the makeup brought some discomfort and awkwardness, it wasn’t at an intolerable level. The awkwardness would surely fade with familiarity. If she could just get accustomed to it, it wouldn’t matter.

Then suddenly, Lucia thought.

Would I even like this?

“Um….”

Lucia pondered in front of the mirror.

As the saint fell silent in thought, the nuns watching her exchanged glances and whispered among themselves, soon beginning to reassure Lucia that it was okay.

“If it’s your first time, you might feel that way because you’re not used to it. As you do it more, you’ll feel comfortable!”

A slight misunderstanding arose, but Lucia didn’t correct it.

Instead, she nodded along.

“Is that so…?”

“Of course! But it’s surprising.”

“What part is surprising?”

“It’s surprising that you’re wearing makeup, Saint. You never showed any interest in it before; is there a sudden reason you’re doing it now?”

“…Well, that’s….”

Lucia hesitated to choose her words, and after a long silence, she trailed off with an answer of ‘I just wanted to try it.’

As the nuns and the saint chatted around the mirror, there was a knock.

*Knock, knock.*

“I’m sorry to interrupt your rest, but I have something urgent to discuss.”

“What is it, priest?”

“I received a message from the inquisitor who went to meet you at the hotel. They will arrive shortly.”

Upon hearing the priest’s report, Lucia began to remove her makeup. The nuns silently cleared the mirror and poured warm water into a silver tray.

With each layer of uncomfortable and awkward makeup being wiped away, her familiar face reappeared.

After washing off the final traces of makeup, Lucia dried her face with a towel and stepped out onto the terrace.

The dark night sky.

The blue moon looked down upon the world.

A carriage was approaching the cathedral, crossing the gravel road.

The moonlit night was bathed in a clear blue hue.

The blue light hung in the window while tangled power lines stretched across the night sky. The night sky of Lateran was beautiful enough to earn the descriptor of Holy Land, but the surroundings didn’t capture my attention much.

I was too preoccupied to notice such a beautiful view. A significant worry buzzed in my head.

“Who called?”

“The Saint called.”

I was in motion with the priest who introduced himself as having just come from the cathedral. He was the clergy who had abruptly come to the hotel room to inform me of the Saint’s summons.

Given that there was police outside and the Inquisition was guarding the hotel, he didn’t seem like your average priest. He was likely affiliated with the central authority or someone of high rank who sent him.

Regardless of the details, there was no doubt about the cleric’s identity.

I threw a question toward the cleric, visible beyond the sheets.

“Where are we going?”

“To the cathedral.”

“What cathedral?”

A dry voice came from the driver’s seat.

“You’ll understand when you arrive.”

The response was so cold it felt almost unfriendly, but I didn’t mind.

The gruff priest slowly turned the steering wheel, and I, occupying the back seat, gazed absently out the window.

“We’re heading east.”

“Yes.”

There are three cathedrals in Lateran.

Medius Cathedral, where the Pope’s seat is located.

Altiora Cathedral, which has seen dozens of saints.

Cathedral of Tranquille, elevated with the birth of a new saint.

Among them, the cathedral located to the east is Altiora Cathedral.

And in this era where two saints coexist, there is only one owner of Altiora Cathedral.

“…….”

I quietly pulled out a cigarette and took a puff.

The sharp scent lingered on my tongue. The harsh Kien mountain tobacco violently exhaled a hazy smoke. Like the dwindling candle racing toward a dead end, the cigarette didn’t stop until it crumbled into ash.

In the distance stood a picturesque cathedral atop a low hill.

As I gazed at the towering cathedral, I lifted my head to look at the gloomy night sky.

*

My relationship with Saint Veronica isn’t as bad as one might think.

Those who don’t know anything might guess that Veronica and I have a distant relationship due to her nationality (Veronica is a dual citizen with Kien Empire citizenship), but that is not true.

In reality, we get along quite well.

Although we first met as an information agent and an information officer, Veronica often provided me with a lot of personal help. Of course, it wasn’t a one-sided deal.

She would often make personal requests of me.

To be precise, she asked me to look out for her cherished younger siblings.

For example, to make sure Lucia doesn’t get caught up in strange happenings at the Magic Tower, or to keep an eye out for Francesca’s safety.

If Veronica were just some average informant, I wouldn’t have bothered with her requests. Likewise, if I were an ordinary agency agent, Veronica wouldn’t have entrusted her siblings to me.

After all, in over ten years of cooperating with the Imperial Guard HQ, I had been backstabbed more than once.

Veronica walked a priest’s path against her will and endured various threats, and whenever a crisis hit, the Imperial Guard HQ didn’t offer her proper help.

Of course, that’s entirely based on Veronica’s claims.

Given the many variables in intelligence operations and their vulnerability to changes in internal and external conditions, it’s possible that the Guard HQ found themselves in a situation where they couldn’t act. Or maybe they did help, but Veronica just didn’t know about it.

Information agencies aren’t known for their bragging or excuses after all.

Regardless of the circumstances, it was clear that Veronica harbored discontent with her treatment.

Upon discovering that Cardinal Raul had made contact with the empire, she quickly devised a plan to escape its influence and seized the opportunity through me. I guaranteed her safety, and thus she became my informant.

Perhaps it was because our first meeting was anything but ordinary.

The bond formed that day always had a strange undertone.

Whenever I answered the phone with a cliché greeting like “Hello,” she would casually retort, “This isn’t your wife, you know?”

Or she’d sneak up from behind and suddenly cover my eyes, asking, “Guess who?”

She had barged into my lodgings uninvited more than once. She even snuck into the military hospital where I had been admitted.

This kind of relationship with Veronica was quite peculiar.

It was too horizontal to call it merely an informant-informant relationship and too vertical to define it as friends.

She was playful, but she never crossed the line. Despite prying into my personal matters, she diligently handled her tasks, swiftly procured necessary information, and collected valuable intel without needing to be told.

Yet, she never demanded anything in return.

It sounds ridiculous to admit this now, but to be honest, I had always found Veronica suspicious. An informant who works without compensation.

Having worked as an information officer for over a decade, I had never seen an informant who didn’t expect a reward. There were no transgressors who would tease the officer or casually strike up a conversation knowing their true identity.

Veronica was a one-of-a-kind case I had never seen and a completely unpredictable woman. So rather than pushing her away, I kept a certain distance.

However…

It seems even that has reached its limit.

In the cathedral of the Holy Land under the blue moonlight.

Facing the owner of the cathedral, I ask her,

“Veronica, do you perhaps like me?”

“……”

Clatter.

The thick Old Fashioned glass tumbled across the floor. Veronica stared at me blankly, seemingly forgetting that she had even dropped the glass.