* * *
After that, Zavad walked in silence.
Ranshel matched his pace, following closely behind.
Before long, the end of the path appeared, revealing a well-kept garden blooming with flowers instead of tall trees.
At a table in the garden, Frey was having tea.
“Welcome.”
Frey greeted them with a bright smile.
Danie, standing beside the table, bowed politely.
‘So this was the stop along the way,’ Ranshel thought, spacing out for a moment before snapping to attention and pulling out a chair.
Zavad sat down and spoke.
“You arrived earlier than I expected.”
“I slipped out midway through the entrance ceremony. Call it a perk of being the Saintess.”
Frey chuckled mischievously, and Zavad returned the smile softly.
Ranshel stood behind with his hands folded neatly, his eyes subtly drifting.
“Have a taste. It’s my favorite tea.”
At Frey’s gesture, Danie poured tea into Zavad’s cup.
Steam curled into the air, carrying a pleasant aroma even to where Ranshel stood.
“Thank you. I’m quite looking forward to it.”
Despite his words, Zavad propped his chin on his hand instead of picking up the cup, his tone turning sharp.
“But what was the reason you called me here? We could’ve spoken inside the school.”
“…I needed a place without people around. There’s something I need to discuss.”
Ranshel glanced around casually.
It made sense—the garden was at the end of a long, secluded path.
No one else was in sight.
Zavad also scanned the area, his eyes narrowing.
“Is this about the Holy Temple?”
“……”
Frey took a sip of tea before answering quietly.
“…As you know, the current Archbishop and the monks who follow him refuse to recognize me as the true Saintess. They insist the polluted ground must be relocated, that a proper divine oracle should choose a new Saintess.”
Zavad furrowed his brow, asking bluntly.
“I’ve been meaning to ask, what exactly is their reason for claiming perfectly fine land is polluted? Do they even have grounds for that belief?”
Frey’s expression clouded.
“…The monks say the Archbishop had a vision of the Holy Spirit in a dream. He claims he received a direct message from the divine.”
Zavad’s lips curled with disbelief.
“How ridiculous. And yet the monks believe that senile nonsense? What, were they all bewitched at once?”
“……It might not be entirely nonsense.”
Frey gripped the teacup tightly with both hands.
“There are rumors circulating in the Holy Temple.
The Archbishop holds secret prayer gatherings… and everyone who attends them comes out following him without question.
Like they’ve fallen under some strange spell…”
Zavad lowered his hand from his chin and crossed his arms.
“Saying the polluted ground needs to be relocated is essentially demanding we abandon the sacred lands of the Grand Temple that protects the Empire, isn’t it?”
“……”
On the far side of the continent, across the frozen wastelands, the Grand Temple stood beyond the Empire’s borders, defending against the demonic tribes of the so-called Demon Realm.
That’s why clergy, wielders of sacred power, were treated with such reverence.
The demon who cursed Frey also resided there.
The curse, laid by a high-ranking demon from the snowy mountains, was so deep and enduring precisely because of its origin.
With sorrowful eyes, Frey stared down at his teacup and spoke softly.
“The Archbishop… may have abandoned God’s will and embraced a false faith.”
“Are you saying he’s a heretic who worships demons?”
“……”
Frey nodded with a grief-stricken expression. His blue eyes shimmered with sorrow.
“That’s good news.”
Zavad, contrary to expectations, smiled in satisfaction.
“If we find proof, we can drive them out immediately, can’t we? It’s good news.”
“…Yes. That’s true. But…”
“Is there a problem?”
Frey, still gazing into his teacup with mournful eyes, spoke quietly.
“They’ve made it perfectly clear they reject me, so there’s a clear limit to what I can do. I need someone to infiltrate their prayer gatherings and find out what’s going on.”
“…You mean we need to use other personnel from the Holy Temple?”
“I haven’t been the Saint for long, and there’s no one within the Temple I can fully trust. For this, I need someone I can completely rely on. I can’t just ask anyone for help.”
“You’re right, but… the Temple strictly controls external involvement. I’m not sure it’s even possible to send someone in from the outside.”
Frey took a small sip of tea, then spoke cautiously.
“There’s only one way. Those who complete the curriculum at the seminary’s affiliated academy are granted the qualification to assist the Temple’s monks.”
“……”
The smile vanished from Zavad’s lips.
“That academy mainly educates those hoping to work for high-ranking noble families or secure a position within monasteries under the Temple’s authority. So, if someone finishes the program, they can work directly in the Temple and gather information on the prayer meetings…”
“……”
Zavad crossed his arms and tilted his head to the side.
The gentle demeanor from moments ago completely vanished, replaced by a terrifyingly blank expression.
Frey drained the rest of his tea and set the empty cup down.
His eyes, which had been wandering across the table, slowly lifted as he hesitantly opened his mouth.
“So, I was thinking… your attendant, Danie, could accompany them…”
“No.”
Zavad’s response was sharp, like a knife cutting through the air.
Frey sighed, as though he’d expected that reaction.
“I understand your concerns, but wouldn’t it be enough to send one of your guards?”
“They’re cautious people. They won’t let some large soldier handle work in the Temple.”
“Then I can send another servant under me.”
“If you mean those I saw at your mansion… they’re too old. The academy won’t accept someone like that.”
“Whoever I send, it would still be better than sending Ranshel. My servant is dull and useless—completely unfit for such a task.”
Ranshel glared at Zavad with a hardened face, but Zavad’s gaze remained fixed forward, not sparing him a glance.
“How could we send someone incompetent to infiltrate heretics who worship demons? Surely, we can find someone more capable.”
“…It won’t be as dangerous as you think. I understand how you feel, but Danie will accompany him too, so don’t worry too much.”
“I’m not worried about my servant. I’m worried he’ll mess everything up. He’s even more useless than you imagine. You should choose someone else.”
Ranshel clenched his fists behind his back, nails digging painfully into his palms.
Zavad’s tone was unwavering, but Frey didn’t back down either.
His eyes drifted toward Ranshel, standing silently by Zavad’s side.
“I believe Ranshel can do well. Danie recommended him. When we spoke before, he struck me as an exceptional person.”
Zavad’s gaze sharpened noticeably.
“You only spoke to him briefly when he was repairing equipment on exam day, isn’t that right? How could you judge someone’s character in such a short time? You’ve hired a reckless maid, it seems. I worry she might bring shame upon the Empire’s one and only precious Saint. Wouldn’t it be better to hire someone more prudent?”
“……”
The warmth that had lingered on Frey’s face vanished entirely.
Heavy silence settled over the table.
Ranshel, though his pride was wounded by Zavad’s constant insults, was far more anxious that Zavad’s attitude might cause Frey to dislike him.
“You said you were lovers! You said you liked him!”
If this keeps up, and Frey turns him away, wouldn’t that be the immediate route to a bad ending?
Ranshel loosened his clenched fists and placed a hand on Zavad’s shoulder.
“Young master.”
“Stay quiet. Don’t butt into a conversation between your betters.”
“…It’s not that. I just have a personal request.”
Only then did Zavad shift his gaze toward Ranshel. Ranshel smiled down at him and spoke softly.
“I’ve actually wanted to attend the academy for a long time. I know I’m lacking in many ways as a servant. This would be a good opportunity for me to get proper training.”
“…Since when do you care about that? You’re fine as you are. You don’t need to learn anything.”
What?
After all that insulting me as useless?
* * *
