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The Library of Laterano is one of the finest libraries in the world.

Some might think it’s just a vast library for storing books and documents, but that is a typical misunderstanding rooted in ignorance.

Every nook and cranny is filled with the church’s traditions, welcoming visitors the moment they step across the threshold into a place where history and tradition come alive.

Light filtered through the stained glass splits into a dazzling hexagon, illuminating even the most hidden corners, with a gentle wind whispering like a soft poetry in the corridors.

Traveling through the relaxed corridors to weave between the bookshelves is one of the reasons the Library of Laterano is acclaimed as the best in the world.

It’s not just that.

The countless books, densely packed on the shelves to either side, are not something you can easily find anywhere.

They are ancient relics, fragments of glorious, faded eras, and enigmas waiting to be interpreted over thousands of years.

Known as the heart of the Cult, the Library of Laterano is not merely a storage place for books, but a corridor of knowledge where history, tradition, theology, and science achieve a balance and harmony.

And knowledge cannot be owned by an individual; learning is not determined by status or age.

The doors of the Library of Laterano are open to all for that very reason.

“But why can’t I get in?”

Except for one person.

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Episode 17 – The Blood-Drinking Tree

At the time when the Government Army of the Mauritania Continent, the clerics of the Cult, and a convoy carrying heroes and their entourage were heading to Nabuktu, a small commotion was happening in the holy land of Laterano, where the Holy See is established across the sea.

*Bang!*

A pale white palm, as white as a blank canvas, slapped the table. A woman who slammed her fist down spoke in a hushed voice.

“Let me in!”

A pair of priests in clerical robes offered awkward smiles.

“Uh, umm, please calm down first…”

“No. I want an explanation of why I can’t get in, Brother!”

“If you could lower your voice just a bit…”

Bookshelves densely filled with volumes are visible all around. A desk presumed to be the reception features a sign that says “Borrowing List.”

It wasn’t hard to realize that this was a library. Furthermore, it was a natural inference that the two men and women standing behind the reception were clerics and librarians.

Social etiquette, often referred to as etiquette, dictates that libraries are always places requiring silence. This means no slapping tables and raising voices.

Still, the librarians couldn’t seem to stop the noisy woman.

“Please keep it down…”

Given that this is a library and that it’s the pride of the Holy See, the “Library of Laterano,” it was clearly a strange phenomenon.

Instead of chasing away the disruptive woman, they clasped their hands together, fidgeting and pleading.

There exists stern rules for the sacred library, but why can’t these two librarians just shoo away the rowdy visitor? And why is the woman so audacious as to raise her voice against the clerics in the heart of Laterano?

The answer to that question could be gathered from the librarian’s mouth.

“Saint, please… could you calm down and speak?”

The priest of the Library of Laterano folded his hands in prayer-like desperation. He looked on the verge of tears.

“I want to calm down too, but the situation is really infuriating!”

Crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows, her breath and annoyed glances expressed her discomfort openly.

As the librarians looked worried, Veronica, the Saint, began to unleash her anger upon the clerics.

“You’re telling me ‘knock and the door shall be opened’? How does it make sense that I can’t enter a library that’s open to everyone? Am I not a person?”

“Uh, that… that’s not it…”

“Why does it always get mad at me?!”

Her aggrieved voice echoed through the library. Veronica was genuinely indignant.

The reason was simple: she had recently received a reprimand from the Pope.

Just for stealthily taking an item from the storeroom.

Of course, the storeroom contained a vault of sacred relics.

And the item she took was a cursed weapon, and although she had used the cursed weapon in a foreign land under the watchful eye of Al-Yabd…

She had grumbled in front of a cardinal interrogating her, saying, “Can’t you old man keep it down? I’d prefer if you didn’t nag me,” and asked a few bishops with sighs over their heads, “Aren’t you all busy? Did you come just to gawk at my pretty face?”

Even after having crossed the line, she still found it unfair.

Why should she be punished? She had done nothing wrong.

It was unjust to be punished for an infraction that didn’t appear in scripture or canon law.

If you’re a fundamentalist, you must have grounds for your arguments; there is no reason to arbitrarily reduce the penalty like this.

Didn’t anyone consider that when they were drafting the canon laws?

And now you suggest revising them? Don’t you remember the principle of non-retroactivity, Your Eminence? This is truly outrageous for someone who once served as a supreme judge…

The translator in charge of documenting the records had tactfully put it as “Saint Veronica expressed her discontent,” so they were unable to find an appropriate charge, and the intended punishment was barely changed to a period of confinement.

Nonetheless, Veronica still felt wronged and indignant.

Truly.

“This is outrageous! This isn’t right! I just came to look at some books, books!”

As her voice rose day by day, the faces of the librarians turned pale.

The librarians, drenched in sweat, flustered as the knights accompanying the Saint tried to decide on their lunchtime menu, watched as Veronica reached a peak of outrage.

“Get the person in charge out here!”

She was likely to fully collapse on the floor at any moment. The will to plop down was evident in her body language.

At that moment…

“What is this spectacle?”

An old man’s voice reverberated in everyone’s ears.

He was an elderly man with gray-tinged hair and deep wrinkles, a sight that caught one’s eye. His checkered garments were rare in the religiously colorful Laterano, but here, in the library, it seemed perfectly natural attire.

Ink smudges marked his thin fingers, indicating he had been writing something just before this. Calloused spots formed from gripping the writing instrument hinted at his wisdom, and wrinkles adorned the back of his hands like badges of experience.

The moment the old man appeared, the library’s clerics and knights began to bow their heads in respect.

“Director.”

“Ah, you’ve arrived…”

Joseph, the director of the Library of Laterano, approached with his staff.

“A disturbance in the holy library corresponds to obstruction, which is a clear sign of disrespect to the quietude of the library and to the volumes that lie dormant.”

“I apologize, Director. Please pardon our rudeness.”

The old man, leaning on his staff, offered a gentle smile to the knight seeking forgiveness.

“You need not apologize. It seems the source of the disturbance lies elsewhere…”

His wrinkled eyes shifted, scanning the area. Joseph, the Library’s Director, was searching for someone.

Finally, his eyes landed on the figure he had been looking for, and his brow furrowed deeply.

With a frown, Joseph glared at the Saint.

“I thought I recognized that familiar voice. I believe I warned you repeatedly not to cause disturbances in the library, Veronica.”

“Hmph.”

Veronica let out a nonchalant snort.

Even while the knights and priests showed respect, she acted as if everything was normal. It wasn’t that she considered her position superior to theirs.

Every human is a creation shaped by the Father above; hence all are inherently equal.

However, the form of equality the Saint speaks of is slightly distorted, occasionally manifesting in behavior that strays from societal norms.

The true reason why she treated Joseph, the director of the library, so lightly was different.

“You’re as consistent as ever, old man. How long do you intend to keep teaching? Do you still think I have something left to learn at my age?”

“Learning never has an age limit. You may need to start relearning respect and etiquette toward others, Veronica.”

“Ugh…”

Veronica shrugged her shoulders in annoyance.

“I genuinely dislike this. Why must I learn morality at my age?”

When the news of a child who might become a saint was first reported to the clerics of the Cult, their hopes soared.

Noble status isn’t determined by bloodlines.

However, good character is heavily dependent on environment and education, and there’s a higher probability of a child raised in a good setting with quality education to grow into a fine adult.

The little girl from the baronial family received much attention from the clerics for such reasons.

Social standing mattered little. There are no rules barring commoners from becoming clerics.

So long as they possess faith and a good heart, anyone can become a cleric.

Moreover, with the Inquisition’s confirmation noting that “though there were unfavorable circumstances, she grew up in a harmonious household,” everyone firmly believed that the little girl would demonstrate good character.

But that wasn’t the case.

Thinking she was a well-behaved pony, they soon discovered there was nothing but a wild foal. How could a child not yet ten behave so fiercely?

If it weren’t for the empire’s diplomat who came with the child, and the priest from Petrogard, they might have mistaken her for some misplacement.

Upon confirming the state of the chaotic child, the Holy See struggled and decided to pin their hopes on education, believing it could bring about change in her.

If one year fell short, they were willing to teach her for three or even five years.

The child’s potential was thoroughly vetted; at such a young age, she had summoned the Holy Spirit from the scriptures, thus certain she would definitely be canonized. The only issue was her lack of character.

Yet surely, if they could raise her correctly before she became a saint, she would grow into a fine Saint. The Holy See had unwavering faith in the power of education and guidance.

However, that didn’t succeed.

Even after one year of teaching, her state remained a total mess.

The nun, who tried to nurture her with love and care like a mother, fled before the ten months were up.

The reason for the nun’s departure was pointed to her efforts to play the role of a parent. Specifically, it was when the nun suggested the child “try thinking of me as your mother” that it ruffled the child’s feathers.

By the third year, there were signs of improvement.

Following the bishop’s suggestion of pairing her with peers of a similar age, her temper began to ease somewhat.

However, as is the nature of children, they would become close only to bicker over trivial disputes, and soon after a severe argument, the child reverted to her previous self.

Around the fifth year, their patience had reached its limits.

Some argued for discipline, while others suggested sending her to a monastery school. There were whispers of just beating or making her transcribe the scriptures for a year to see if there would be a difference.

But the Pope dismissed all these suggestions.

Instead, he appointed a new teacher skilled in education to take the role.

The teacher who had once been responsible for Veronica’s childhood was none other than Joseph, the Director of the Library of Laterano.

For the record, Joseph epitomized the image of a “stuffy old tutor,” going beyond to become a prime example of such a character.

In fact, the reason why Veronica began to use the term “stuffy old man” was after meeting Joseph.

“You must not overlook the importance of morality. Religion is the magic that carries morality. Since morality and religion are in a relational set, as religious people, we should lead by example in virtue, which I’ve emphasized many times.”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying.”

The textbook-like scolding commenced. After such a long time, it was quite a nostalgic lecture.

Veronica promptly began to tune him out as she covered her ears. But Joseph refused to relent.

“I believe you still have much to learn, Veronica. Even though there is still a long way ahead, you can’t just tune me out like this.”

“Then why didn’t you teach me properly from the beginning? Why did you leave me with a heap of homework?”

“Some might evaluate my education as a failure. However, while I might not have achieved the target goals set by the Holy See, I consider it a success to have evoked change within you, Veronica. How you perceive those standards ultimately affects your evaluation.”

“We agreed to call that a failure, Joseph.”

The former student’s pouting response made the old man, once her teacher, nod calmly.

It wasn’t a gesture of accord. For a veteran now responsible for Veronica’s education for nearly a decade, this level of complaint didn’t even scratch the surface.

“That may be so. But, it is true that you’ve changed since meeting me, Veronica. At least you’re not acting out like you used to.”

“I’m not!”

Veronica answered defiantly while managing to keep up her shameless facade. Joseph shot back with calm firmness.

“A week ago, I heard about the private hearing at the Medius Cathedral. The bishops and cardinals were discussing it, too.”

The hearing held to determine the consequences of the Saint, who had stolen a submachine gun from the storeroom (though she claimed it was merely a rental without the unnecessary administrative procedures, the Holy See did not accept this).

The mention of the hearing made Veronica raise an eyebrow indifferently. So what, she seemed to say.

Did he dare to lecture her that “taking things is wrong”?

“No, I’m not.”

However, Joseph firmly denied her assumption, and what was more, he delivered an unexpected answer that deviated from her expectations.

“I don’t know exactly what you took, but personally, I think it’s a fortunate turn of events.”

“What nonsense are you spouting now?”

“This could have easily led to you appearing before a religious tribunal, were it not for your change.”

“Do you not remember?”

Joseph began to speak as if astonished that she might not know.

“When you were thirteen, I assigned you the task of investigating a historical event. At that time, you chose to research the ‘Iconoclast Movement’ and said you would…”

He threw the holy relic into the furnace…

“Uwaak! Wack! Waaah-!”

A sudden scream interrupted Joseph’s words.

The librarians and knights, who had been deeply focused on the professor’s calm voice, were shocked.

Veronica interjected, clearly flustered.

“W-Why is that story coming up now?!”

Regardless, Joseph calmly continued his explanation.

“This was actually mild. On your 17th birthday, you tore pages from the scripture just because you didn’t have any thin paper to roll your cigarettes. In that moment, I was quite taken aback too.”

“AAAH! WAAAH! WAAAAH!”

Veronica started frantically thrashing about.

Her face turned bright red, and her pale skin blushed with warmth, radiating a heat from her heated complexion.

No, it was a misunderstanding! I only tore out the table of contents! Do you think it’s appropriate behavior to tear the scriptures and roll cigarettes?!

Even if it contains the words of God, in the end, it’s just a piece of paper, right?! If tearing it a bit is considered blasphemy, what would you call the students drooling and dozing off during service?! There are limits to irreverence!

That’s nothing but idol worship and heresy! I wouldn’t know because I’m not religious. That’s why I remember feeling so flustered!

Why is Joseph flustered?! Just because he’s not religious! That’s why he was flustered. But, isn’t it irresponsible for you, Lady Veronica, to act like that?!

A desperate struggle ensued, trying to outdo the master. The disciple seemed determined not to utter a word, but it was a futile attempt.

In the sight of the high priest of the grand library, the saint’s outbursts left the knights and librarians speechless. It was hard to tell if this was a joke or reality, and second, it was shocking even if it was a joke.

“…Hoo.”

As with any dispute between a master and disciple, it was Veronica who finally gave in first. She swept aside her disheveled hair and pressed her forehead.

“I give up….”

“Now do you understand why morality is necessary?”

“Ah, enough! Just give me my library access pass already!”

Veronica boldly demanded her access pass. Even if it was humiliating, it seemed important to receive what she was owed.

She acted as if she had come to collect money she had left behind, exuding an unabashed attitude.

“No.”

Naturally, Joseph rejected the request. The reason was simple.

“Lady Veronica, your access has been suspended for five years.”

“What, when?!”

“Since last May when you caused a ruckus inside the library.”

What on earth did I do to have my access suspended? Veronica tried to protest, but Joseph was a step ahead.

As if he knew what she would say, the head of the library took out the list of disciplinary actions. Adjusting his monocle carefully, Joseph began to read the records calmly.

“On May 11th last year, you consumed chocolate in Area C-3. As you know, eating or drinking anything other than water is strictly prohibited in the library. Then, five days later, on the 16th, you arrived under the influence of alcohol. The library similarly prohibits entry of intoxicated individuals.”

“I didn’t even enter! I turned back at the entrance—”

“Yes, but you turned it into a mess before that, didn’t you? The monks had quite the struggle cleaning up after you.”

The records didn’t stop there.

In March of the previous year, you climbed onto a statue in the hallway and broke it when you fell down; several complaints were made about you napping on a bench, habitual food consumption, damage to the literature due to underlining and doodling, sneaking into the forbidden section only to trigger the alarm resulting in the interrogators being dispatched—you can see it was a pretty extensive list.

At this point, it seemed more than reasonable to totally ban her entry, rather than simply suspending it for five years.

Given her audacious behavior despite such a colorful accident record, it was even less surprising.

After putting his monocle back in his pocket, Joseph started rolling up Veronica’s disciplinary records, which had spilled all over the floor.

“Despite repeated warnings, there seemed to be no sign of improvement, so your access has been suspended.”

“…….”

“Do you have any objections?”

Tsk. Veronica awkwardly licked her lips.

It conveyed that she had no argument even in her own mind.

“Then would you please head back? I only stepped out urgently as I was in the middle of something important.”

“…Joseph.”

“Yes, Lady Veronica?”

“I really need to find a record urgently. Can’t I just take a quick look at that?”

“…….”

The knights listening to the conversation widened their eyes in disbelief. Had they really just heard the saint, the one who had even mocked the Pope for being an old man, politely asking for permission? The one who had sneaked over the fence despite orders to reflect until she repented.

Veronica asked Joseph with an adequately respectful tone. Even from an elder’s point of view, her demeanor was sufficiently proper.

That is, only when judged by her standards.

So it was a delightfully favorable standard.

“How urgent is this matter?”

“Very urgent.”

“To what extent?”

“Um… a person might die?”

Veronica, who had been smiling, casually dropped that line. It was half a joke.

In other words, it was half serious.

“…….”

Joseph gazed at Veronica with a look that seemed to scold her for making such a tasteless joke in this context.

But when Veronica’s lips parted once more, Joseph’s gaze began to soften a bit.

“I need records about angels.”

“…….”

“Someone told me to check the Library of Laterano.”

After a moment of silence, Joseph’s lips twitched.

“Whom did you hear that from? That there are records about angels here?”

A small envelope pulled out from his pocket. Between his slender fingers was a letter.

Veronica showed the letter as she replied to Joseph’s question.

“An elder told me.”

A short grumble followed. Why is he asking me to go look for something? Would it hurt to just let me know in a letter?

Veronica grumbled about the high priest, but no one cared. They didn’t know who the elder she mentioned was. If someone here had realized that the saint had been grumbling about the high priest, it would’ve been necessary to elect a new Pope as soon as possible.

Because Raphael, upon hearing the news, might just faint.

“…….”

The letter clipped between Veronica’s fingers quivered. Joseph, pulling out his monocle, stared closely at the letter’s front, and then began to speak.

“How much do you need?”

A simple and brief question followed.

“As much as possible.”

“That kind of classification doesn’t exist in any library in the world. Please tell me the dates or periods.”

“From ancient texts to modern research, everything.”

“Do you have any specific sources in mind?”

“Foreign or from other religions, it doesn’t matter.”

Veronica cut down her complex and lengthy demands into a simple statement.

“I want to examine all the records held here.”

“…….”

“Isn’t that possible?”

Joseph replied.

“You’ve come to the right place.”

Relying on his staff, the head of the Library of Laterano turned his body. Without turning his head, he spoke to Veronica.

“Please follow me.”

 

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