I’m an Immigration Officer!

Meanwhile, at the Papal Office located in the Southern Branch of the Holy Church—

"Hmm…"
The silence of the luxuriously furnished office was broken by the voice of Pope Escabaur III.
His aged, deeply wrinkled eyes blinked slowly, clearly perturbed by what he’d just heard.

"A trial instead of a summary execution… This is... quite the surprise."
Dressed in his dazzling ceremonial robes, he muttered to himself.
"I was under the impression that Her Majesty would handle this without complications?"

From beyond the crystal orb, a voluptuous woman responded.
— That was the plan. But… meddlers got in the way.
Queen Helena Castor of the Kingdom of Crossroads.

Her voluptuous form and ruby-red eyes simmered with undisguised fury as her voice rose through the orb.
— Traitors defied the will of not just me, but of the nation’s father, and voted against us in the Council of Ministers!
"Who dares oppose Her Majesty and King Rio?"

— …The Minister of Foreign Affairs, along with his appointed vassals.
At her answer, the Pope quickly summoned to mind the names of Crossroads’ senior officials.
‘The Minister of Foreign Affairs… that would be Karton Grayson, no doubt.’

A man as withered and aged as himself.
He remembered him. The man had served as the Director of Intelligence before ascending to the ministerial post.
Known for his stubbornness.

Even when the Church had discreetly approached him, no temptation or proposal had moved him.
‘And those under his authority would include the Chief of the Immigration Office as well as figures in Foreign Affairs and Intelligence.’
All personally appointed by Karton.
In other words, a faction entirely composed of individuals aligned with his will.

No matter how much favor the Queen enjoyed from the King, she couldn’t arbitrarily decide punishments if nearly half her council opposed it.
That’s likely why the case had shifted from summary execution to a formal trial.
Having grasped ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ the full picture, Escabaur nodded.

"It’s quite alright. If anything, I feel guilty that we’ve placed this burden on Your Majesty’s shoulders."
— Don’t say that.
Her voice turned demure.

— In fact… there is something Your Holiness could do to help.
"What assistance do you require?"
— Could you appear as a witness at the trial?

The Pope raised an eyebrow.
"…As a witness."
— You wouldn’t need to travel all the way to Crossroads. If you can spare the time, we can transmit your testimony through the crystal orb.

There was no need to elaborate further—they both understood exactly what sort of testimony was being requested.
It was about the trial of the Chief Inspector overseeing the southern border.
“I found the Chief Inspector’s words deeply insulting.”

Just a single statement like that would render any airtight evidence the opposition presented meaningless.
The weight of the Pope’s words was equal to that of the entire Church.
And even if there were dissenters in the court, if he—the official recipient of the protest letter—testified, it would carry immense influence.

The Queen was clearly banking on that.
Some might call it the corruption of church and state.
But to the Pope, it was simply the righteous path.

A necessary detour for a greater mission.
A route toward the fulfillment of his long-cherished dream.
He had no reason to refuse.

For his goals and hers were aligned.
"I would be honored to assist. Or rather—please allow me to do so."
— Truly? That would be such a powerful boon for the trial!

Watching the Queen rejoice, Escabaur gently steered the conversation elsewhere.
"And… how is His Majesty the King these days?"
He prodded gently.

Helena hesitated for a moment, her cheeks flushing faintly.
— Still grieving deeply… but he does call for me often.
Escabaur offered a kindly smile.

"Haha. Good to hear. At least he has someone near to comfort him."
Inside, he felt relieved.
‘At least the King won’t be interfering again.’

The father who had buried his son—and once stood in the way of the Church’s great work.
“Choose! Violate the treaty and cross the broken valley—or return to your land!”
The small beast lay silent with his eyes closed.

Drunk on the pleasure of Helena’s flesh.
There was no longer any need to worry about him regaining his will.
It was a perfect situation.

‘This won’t be a repeat of fifteen years ago.’
Even the memory of that incident made his blood boil.
Suppressing the flare of anger with expert ease, the Pope asked another question.

"And how is the princess? I’ve heard little of her lately."
— Elaine?
Helena’s voice grew noticeably colder.

— You should know better than anyone. The agents dispatched by the Church are managing her now.
Elaine Castor.
The princess who had withdrawn from public life, just like the King.

And as the Queen said, the Pope received weekly reports on her condition.
— She still carries a deep guilt over the incident.
— She only wanders the royal archives and the inner gardens. Nothing unusual.

There was only one reason why the Pope bothered receiving reports on a princess he’d never met.
Because Elaine was a Talent Manifestor—
And the one responsible for the death of her brother, Lassen Castor.

It had been an accident.
Everyone knew that.
But the cause had undeniably been Elaine.

A power she couldn’t control.
A Talent Manifestation gone berserk.
It was the greatest tragedy in the history of Crossroads.

‘And at the same time… the perfect accident that brought down King Rio.’
He was lost in thought when the Queen, hesitant to ask directly, carefully spoke.
— And… once this matter is resolved, the blessing you promised…

Ah. Yes.
The Pope had briefly forgotten that detail—the promise he’d made to the Queen.
The divine blessing she would receive in exchange for helping take care of the Chief Inspector.

"Of course. The Lord does not withhold love from those who follow the will of Heaven."
As he spoke, Escabaur raised his arms to the sky and closed his eyes.
"The Lord sees your efforts, Your Majesty."

— Fwaaaaah.
A brilliant golden light, equal in radiance to Erzena’s divine power, flooded the office.
Helena clasped her hands in ecstasy, her body trembling.

— Ahhh… Then I will purify myself in body and soul and await your will.
"May His protection and grace be upon you."
With that, the light of the crystal orb flickered out.

‘Such an easy woman.’
It was an incredibly irreverent thought, but the Pope couldn’t help but scoff at her.
That she had become Queen of Crossroads was an enormous stroke of luck for the Church.

"Is there anything easier than moving someone who clings desperately to faith?"
Especially one so fervent.
A woman whose daughter had become a Talent Manifestor and thus drawn into the Church’s orbit—

And who blamed that same daughter’s disobedience to divine law for the accidental death of her son.
Thanks to her, the Holy Church had easily exploited the power vacuum left by King Rio’s fall.
Escabaur erased the genial expression from his face.

— Rustle.
He stripped off his ceremonial robes.
The moment the richly decorated vestments slipped from his body, the divine energy that had filled the room dissipated completely.

The warm aura vanished, the light extinguished in an instant.
All that remained was the eerie gloom of twilight and the suffocating stillness of a room untouched by sunlight.
The Pope removed all trace of his smile.

Then, from beneath the robes, he withdrew the Holy Relics he had kept hidden and laid them on the table.
"The Bell of Batarra."
"The Necklace of Seryukovski."

"The Ring of Saint Dinstar."
 
****

With each relic he touched, a faint golden divine light flickered to life in the gray room—only to fade again the moment he withdrew his hand.
And once the final holy relic had been removed from his person, nothing remained. No light, no color.
He had no color at all.

Just like this chamber where the sun had already set.
The Pope dropped to his knees and began to pray.
"O Lord, your faithful servant seeks once more to fulfill the Great Work."

But the Divine did not answer.
Even he—he who stood closest to God, the highest spiritual authority of the Church, he who was supposed to be most beloved and most devout—received only silence.
"Grant that this Holy War may be fulfilled, that it may purify the evil of the world with victory."

Still, there was no answer.
Yet Escabaur remained utterly unshaken.
On the contrary, he finished the prayer with calm precision and sat back in his seat with a blank expression.

Naturally.
The Lord had withdrawn divine power from him fifteen years ago.
After the failure of the First Great Crusade, the divine light had vanished.

It was a sensation he had grown all too familiar with.
Severance. Emptiness. Silence.
These things were now part of his very essence.

For the past fifteen years, he had concealed the loss of his divine power beneath holy relics and the blessings of priests who were loyal to him alone.
To the public and to the faithful, he was still the radiant, golden image of divinity.
But when alone, only black and white remained.

A colorless Pope.
It was the name most befitting of Escabaur.
Dragging his weary body, the Pope leaned back into his chair.

And softly muttered:
"Nathan Kell..."
Just thinking of him twisted his gut.

Such an insolent young man.
He resembled one man far too much.
King Rio Castor of the Kingdom of Crossroads.

That same unbearable righteousness.
In hindsight, it was because of him that the divine power had vanished.
Because of King Rio.

Escabaur remembered it clearly.
"The Lord passed judgment."
God had turned away.

As if to declare that he was no longer the one most fit to receive divine guidance, the Lord had taken back His power.
A cruel and agonizing truth.
But he had not broken.

The Pope murmured in a low voice:
"Even if You have abandoned me… I have not abandoned You."
God did not answer.

But that didn’t matter.
Soon, the entire world would be crying out His name.
And when that time came, even the Divine would not be able to turn away from him again.

The completion of the Holy War was the completion of the Church.
That was why, for fifteen years, he had done every dirty deed, committed every vile compromise.
All for the sake of God's will.

And to reclaim the divine power that formed the very foundation of his authority.
He would do anything to get it back.
"None understand Your will better than I."

The title of Pope belonged to him—and to no one else.
This was his trial.
The greatest trial for the Church to become truly glorious.

The final obstacle to the Holy War.
And just as Rio Castor had fallen, so too would Nathan Kell.
But to ensure that, there could be no complacency.

"A witness, hmm..."
He fell into thought for a moment.
The Chief Inspector was a trivial figure in comparison.

But even a small man, once defiant, must be crushed entirely.
‘If one alone cannot do it… what about three?’
A faint smile crept across the Pope’s lips.

Among the pilgrimage delegation were two others whose words carried as much weight as his own.
He touched the crystal orb, and a familiar face appeared.
"The First Captain of the Holy Knights."

— Yes, Your Holiness. You summoned me?
Mohaim knelt on one knee.
"Bring Erzena to me."

Even if she’d escaped into a trial, her fate could not be changed.
With that conviction, the Pope spoke solemnly:
"There is something the three of us must do together."

But there was one thing he did not yet know—
That the Saintess was already in the Kingdom of Crossroads.
And that Erzena had been reborn.

Reborn, just like him—
As a being without divine power.