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After a brief pause, the man seated at the very center—though the word “seated” feels misleading, given how his towering frame and overwhelming presence made it seem as though he were standing—broke the silence. It was Archbishop Georgios, and his voice, deep and rough as rusted iron, opened the floor.

“We’ve received the report. That a disturbance was caused in the heart of Sant’Angelo, of all places—an area off-limits to outsiders—is utterly inexcusable.”
“Indeed.”
“And by someone who ought to be a model of conduct for the entire Church, no less.”
“In the end, such disgrace can only be called corruption.”

One after another, the rest joined in with their reproaches. Only two remained silent.

One of them was my direct superior, High Priestess Teressa, who said nothing but stared at me with a harsh, watchful gaze, evidently withholding judgment for now. The other was the man with the afro—clearly a cardinal, judging by the sash on his vestments—who simply grinned like he was watching an amusing street performance.

“It is clear that strict punishment is warranted… however,” Georgios continued, “with the Northern Nations Summit only days away, we cannot afford to expose this shame to the world. As it is, one of our sacred Shrine Maiden has been kidnapped by a madman and her fate remains unknown—and now, another Shrine Maiden is at the center of a scandal.”

His gray eyes pinned me like spears. I straightened my back as if ice had been shoved down my spine.

As expected from members of the Church’s upper echelon—the so-called Council of Sages—every one of them possessed magical power (or “theocraft,” as the Church termed it) well beyond the Adventurers’ Guild’s A-rank standard.

Even among them, Georgios stood out—by a head? No, by two or three levels altogether.

The total magical output I could sense from him was about the same as my current level… yet just like me, there was a strong sense that he was hiding several aces up his sleeve. In short, his full depth was unknowable.

And above all else, his sheer physical bulk and the massive weapon at his side were absurdly threatening. That worn, two-handed warhammer looked like it could flatten an ogre in one swing. As a priest’s weapon, wasn’t that just pure overkill? What exactly is he planning to fight or defend against?!

“So frivolous, so shallow. That the Council of Sages must be convened for such a trifling matter—it is beyond shameful.”

His eyes, now filled with icy anger, slid from me—from the witness stand—to the defendant sitting right in front of us.

“—Wouldn’t you agree… Your Holiness?”

There is only one person in this entire Church who is addressed as “Your Holiness.” That man, His Holiness Pope Theodoros—whose robe was frayed here and there, as if he’d just been beaten up—was seated formally on his knees on the floor and looked up.

“Uh, I am the Pope, you know? Isn’t this treatment kinda off? Feels pretty unreasonable to me…”

He glanced around the room, pouting, as if hoping someone might fix this grave injustice.

In response, the Pope was met with a roomful of cold, disapproving stares. The afro-haired cardinal even gave a thumbs-down and booed. I later heard that he was Cardinal Callisto, one of Pope Theodoros’ closest aides. Though judging by the way he acted freely—as if confident the Pope wouldn’t notice—he seemed to be venting some frustrations. Maybe their working relationship wasn’t all that smooth?

At that moment, High Priestess Teressa, who had remained silent until now, motioned for the lighting to be dimmed slightly so everyone’s faces were more visible. Then, in a low voice devoid of emotion, she began her indictment of His Holiness.

“…It appears you still fail to grasp the severity of your actions, so allow me to reiterate. According to the report, today, during a visit by Shrine Maiden Clara Adelheid and her attendant, Your Holiness—who stands at the very summit of the Church hierarchy—committed an act of indecency against them. For you to behave lewdly toward Clara, a woman and a shrine maiden in a vulnerable position, is beyond outrageous. This isn’t merely a matter of dignity or decorum—it is abuse of power, pure and simple!”

Listening from behind, I found myself surprised to learn that the concept of “power harassment” actually existed in this world, too.

“Abuse of power…? Look, I got socked in the face and sent flying across the room. If anything, I’m the one with the serious injuries here…”

Pope Theodoros muttered, but Lady Teressa ignored him completely and pressed on.

“In an institution like ours, where so many shrine maiden serve, it is unacceptable for anyone—let alone Your Holiness—to engage in behavior that damages the trust between them and the upper ranks!”

She steamrolled over his attempted rebuttal without pause.

“Indeed!”
“Well said.”
“Precisely.”
“No objections!”

The others joined in the chorus, shutting down Theodoros’ protests before he could speak further.

Looking increasingly lost, the Pope scanned the faces of the Council of Sages for support—only for his gaze to stop on his supposedly loyal subordinate, Cardinal Callisto, who gave a snort and shrugged as if to say, “Tough luck.”

Realizing he could no longer count on support from his allies, the Pope closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and replied with a calm, composed expression.

“You all think I touched Clara’s behind out of lust, don’t you? But you’re sorely mistaken. I only pretended to be a lecherous old man in order to test whether this girl, so praised in the streets as the ‘Shrine Maiden Princess,’ truly has a heart worthy of that title.”

To be fair, that explanation almost sounded like something befitting His Holiness… if you squint hard enough.

Immediately, the members of the Council turned in unison to look at Father Lawrence, the monastic priest standing behind Archbishop Georgios.

“—Guilty. That statement was entirely false,” Lawrence declared.

Turning back again, the members stared down at the now sweat-drenched Pope Theodoros as if he were nothing more than an insect.

“For the spiritual leader of our Church—a man meant to be a paragon of purity and righteousness—to speak such deceit… how disgraceful,” said Lady Teressa. Her words sounded tragic, though her monotone voice suggested she’d expected as much from the start.

“According to the report,” said Archbishop Georgios, gravely nodding, “despite the unfortunate encounter, Shrine Maiden Clara took the initiative to heal His Holiness’ injuries on the spot. Truly, that is the model of a servant of the Church.”

Despite his stern voice and austere demeanor, it somehow didn’t feel much like praise.

“Well, I wouldn’t have needed healing in the first place if this girl hadn’t decked me with a punch…” the Pope grumbled, but was completely ignored.

The meeting continued, steamrolling over him.

“Excommunication would be appropriate,” Archbishop Georgios intoned, “but no one aside from Her Holiness the Saintess has the authority to excommunicate the Pope. Regretfully, until next week’s international summit, His Holiness will be placed under house arrest. After the summit, he is to undertake a solo pilgrimage of a thousand days through the sacred Mount Clorinda. Does anyone object?”

“““““““““No objections!”””””””””

Pope Theodoros shouted in protest, “Objection! I object! I’ll die out there! I’m serious—this is just a roundabout execution!!”

But his cries were met with unanimous approval, as if he wasn’t even present.

Mount Clorinda, after all, is an active volcano famous for housing an S-class dungeon, the Clorinda Flame Labyrinth, right inside its crater. To traverse it solo for a thousand days… that’s beyond cruel. It’s practically a death sentence.

I was just about to speak up—at least say something in his defense—when Archbishop Georgios’ eyes, hard as steel, turned on me. For a second—was it my imagination?—his lips curled in the faintest smile, leaving me stunned.

“And one more thing,” he said. “Regarding the Pope’s acknowledgment of Shrine Maiden Clara’s title, ‘Shrine Maiden Princess’—I propose that we officially approve it. Any objections?”

“““““““““NO OBJECTIONS!!”””””””””

The shout this time was even louder, practically shaking the chamber.

“…Huh?” I blurted, stunned.

Beside me, Coppelia muttered with a grumble, “Forget ‘Shrine Maiden Princess’—they should just go ahead and recognize Lady Clara as the True Saintess.”

Author’s Note:

Hiyuki: “No matter how you look at it, this relief is definitely of Mikoto, right?”
Mikoto: “The information seems to be mixed up. Would you like me to fix it?”
Hiyuki: “Hmm… It’ll be hard to move if the surface is cracked, so I think it’s fine the way it is. Still, I don’t personally dislike this pope, so I don’t think there’s any need to impeach him.”

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