I’m an Immigration Officer!

"Temporary… asylum?"

Erzena blinked.
It was clearly an answer she hadn’t expected—her expression one of confusion.
"I’m not sure I understand what that means."

"It’s simple. It means you’ll be staying in our country for a while."
Only Hylin and the Minister seemed to catch my meaning—they nodded in quiet acknowledgment.
"Well now, that’s a clever move. Not just ‘asylum,’ but ‘temporary’ asylum, huh."

"Sharp as ever."
Asylum.
It’s an administrative procedure granted when an individual faces persecution—or the threat of it—for political, cultural, or religious reasons.

In other words, fleeing to another country for the sake of survival.
"Asylum applications are made for personal safety, so there won’t be any misunderstandings or complications."
At my words, she shook her head.

"But I’m not in any danger right now."
True.
With her divine power restored, she could likely brush off most threats with ease.

Which made her a poor fit for the standard criteria of asylum.
But that only applied to the present moment.
I spoke.

"No. You were in danger."
"Excuse me? What do you—"
"The pig."
"Oh."

At that single word, her face went pale.
Let’s not forget what she went through just a few days ago.
"She was turned into a piglet and kidnapped—if that doesn’t count as a personal safety issue, what does?"

We don’t know who was behind it.
Or why they did it.
But she was undeniably abducted.

"Those unknown forces could come after you again. So it wouldn’t be inaccurate to say you fled here to escape."
"That—That’s how this works? But everything’s been resolved now…"
"No, Erzena. We still don’t even know who those people were. There’s no guarantee the threat won’t return."

That’s why, if she applies for temporary asylum in the Kingdom of Crossroads as an emergency safety measure, the justification will hold up.
Kidnapping is classified as a serious crime, an urgent situation. Emergency responses are implemented immediately.
Charging back to the southern continent and causing chaos within the Church and papal ranks would only make things worse.

Returning to the Church now would unleash a storm of violence and confusion.
If she really wants to rebuild the Church, she’ll have to wait for the rumors to spread first.
Finally understanding my intention, she murmured,

"Officially, it means I fled because I wanted to live. Behind the scenes, it buys me time."
"Exactly."
"Even though I’ve done nothing wrong."

"It’s not about guilt. It’s about taking a breath."
Meanwhile, Hylin, who had silently been listening, raised a question.
"...Pig? Why are pigs suddenly part of this conversation?"

"It’s a thing."
Not something I want to go into here.
Not something I want to say out loud.

"I...see. Asylum, huh…"
Erzena looked just a little disappointed.
She glanced down at her wrist—still in my grasp.

"But then, why temporary asylum?"
Hylin answered.
"Simple. Formal asylum has a complex process. It assumes long-term residence, so you need approval from various government agencies. You’re looking at this much paperwork, at least."

She pointed to the massive stack of documents she had thrown across the courtroom earlier.
"But temporary asylum is treated as an emergency measure. It can be granted at the discretion of the on-site official, guaranteeing one to two months of stay without conditions. All that’s needed is a single form: the ‘Temporary Asylum Application.’"
She held up a single, fluttering sheet of paper.

"During the stay, responsibility for the asylum-seeker’s protection falls to the official in charge. In this case, that would be the Chief Inspector and the Immigration Office."
A clean, clear explanation.
Emergency measures always receive top priority.

At the moment, this was the most effective way to protect her.
With a slightly more convinced expression, Erzena looked at me and asked,
"Then… is this what you mean to do for me, Chief Inspector?"

Silence.
Golden eyes met mine.
What I mean to do for you.

What did that even mean?
What could I possibly offer her?
A gesture of gratitude for someone who went this far for my sake?

Or… something else?
I spoke, quietly.
"...This is the best I can do to protect you."

I didn’t have Blaszek’s combat abilities, or the Minister’s seasoned authority.
I didn’t have the Pope’s influence or the Queen’s political ties.
But there’s still something I can do as an Immigration Officer.

Structure. Procedure. Justified legality.
That was my weapon—and my strength.
"I will protect you with everything I have. That’s a promise."

I didn’t say from what.
But I buried the meaning in my silence: with all my strength.
A slightly abbreviated, but sincere truth.

Erzena’s face brightened once more.
"I see. This is your full strength as Chief Inspector…"
Her divine energy shimmered pleasantly in the air.

"You’re trying to protect me…"
Having fully regained her spirit, she nodded so hard it seemed her neck might snap.
"Alright. Let’s do it. I’ll apply for temporary asylum. Make you my guardian. Is that how this works?"

"Whoa, whoa, easy there, kids. This isn’t a marriage registration—you don’t just say yes and call it done."
Hylin waved her arms between us, stepping into the moment.
"And I don’t think this is the best place to be having this conversation. We should relocate."

She gestured subtly around us.
The courtroom was silent and empty.
But it was large enough that anyone could slip in and eavesdrop.

Not exactly the right setting for discussing what comes next.
The Minister spoke.
"Let’s move to my office. It’s got soundproofing spells. And also…"

His wrinkled eyes moved between me and Erzena.
"I’d like to hear how the two of you went from enemies to allies so quickly."
 

****
A short time later, in the Minister’s office.
We’d just laid everything out—from beginning to end—for both Hylin and the Minister.

Once from my point of view, then again from Erzena’s.
"What the hell? That damned wench kicked our Chief Inspector in the face?"
"This is all true? Not a single detail made up?"

Having heard the full story, both of them sat slack-jawed.
"Well, this is just…"
Hylin searched for the right words, but the Minister was quicker.

"Utter goddamn lunacy."
The secretary carrying in the tea tray stumbled slightly at that.
Clatter.

The Minister quickly raised a hand in apology and continued.
"A Saintess gets kidnapped... and you didn’t report that to me? Every other border commander knew."
"It was a crisis situation—every second counted. I was going to report after locking down the perimeter."

"But you didn’t."
"I was going to persuade Erzena first, then inform you—but right then, the King’s envoy stormed in."
I still remembered.

Incansus Vermotem.
That towering frame, that suffocating pressure {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} of authority.
"Ughhh."

I shuddered involuntarily.
Not quite on the King’s level, but there was a distinct chill in the air around him—the aura of a Dragonborn.
Meanwhile, Hylin was still mulling over what she’d just heard, face unusually serious.

"The Saintess turned into a pig... so a female pig Saintess? No, wait—since it’s a female, it’d be a sow—"
"Ma’am. Director."
I managed to stop her before she finished that inappropriate sentence.

"Ah, sorry. I’ll revise—let’s go with ‘beast Saintess.’"
Finally back to her senses, Hylin patted Erzena gently on the back.
"Well now… quite the tragic fate you’ve been handed, haven’t you? A fallen Saintess, once turned into a beast. You’ve truly tasted the lowest depths."

"Ah… ahaha… I suppose I did learn a lot from it, but I’d really rather not go through it again."
That was sincere.
Just then, the secretary approached the table with a document in hand.

"Minister, here’s the file you requested."
"Thank you."
Karton passed the document straight to Erzena.

[Temporary Asylum Application]
"Well then, enough preamble. Let’s begin."
A signal that we were proceeding officially.

He cleared his throat a few times, then looked to me.
"Chief Inspector. This falls under your jurisdiction."
"Yes, sir."

I gave a brief nod, then spoke.
"Miss Erzena Seraff."
"Huh? I thought you said you'd just call me Erzena—"

"Miss Erzena Seraff. You are here to apply for temporary asylum in the Kingdom of Crossroads. Is that correct?"
The formality of my voice echoed through the office.
Realizing what it meant, Erzena composed herself and answered seriously.

"...Yes."
"In that case, before you sign, I am obligated to inform you of two conditions regarding asylum."
I held up one finger.

"First. The asylum-seeker may not engage in any political activity. Any contact with political groups, factions, or organizations is forbidden. Violation will result in immediate expulsion."
I raised a second.
"Second. The asylum-seeker will be assigned a residence and a designated zone. Within that zone, you may act freely. But leaving it is not permitted. Again, violation will result in expulsion."

"...This sounds less like protection and more like imprisonment."
She replied with a tinge of discontent.
I didn’t deny it.

"Freedom invites danger, and safety demands control. Still, under the present circumstances, I intend to loosen those controls as much as possible. Don’t worry."
At the very least, you need to remain within my reach if I’m to respond when a real threat reappears.
I refuse to let another ‘pig hunt operation’ happen again.

I pointed to the signature line at the bottom of the form.
– Applicant:
"Once you sign here, your safety and protection for the next two months will be under my responsibility."

"…"
She hesitated, then nodded.
"Alright. I’ll sign it."

She picked up the pen and began writing her name.
– Saintess Er…
The pen stopped.

Erzena stared at the word written in front of her name.
"…"
Her hand trembled, ever so slightly.

I stayed silent, watching.
No matter how prepared she thought she was, turning her back on an identity she’s lived with her entire life… that can’t be easy.
I understood.

Conviction and reality don’t always align.
From now on, she’d always be trailed by the label “former Saintess.”
And every time, she’d be reminded of what she once was.

That rift will be enormous.
From the icon of an entire faith to… nothing. A reborn self.
An emotional mixture of emptiness and hope.

I placed my hand within her line of sight.
Near the corner of the document. Close enough for her to reach if she wanted to.
But you’re not alone. It’s not just God who offers you a hand.

Her golden eyes flicked toward my hand.
"…"
Then, with renewed resolve, she crossed out the word ‘Saintess’ with bold strokes and signed anew.

– Erzena Seraff.
Then next to it, she wrote my name.
– Responsible Guardian: Chief Inspector Nathan Kell.

She pressed the pen firmly, the letters etched dark and bold.
And with that, she lifted the pen.
It was done.

The procedure for temporary asylum was complete.
All that remained was to accept the application.
Hylin spoke.

"The application is complete. The name of the responsible guardian is clearly recorded."
Her voice was more solemn than usual.
"From this moment forward, the Immigration Office and the Chief Inspector are formally tasked with the protection of Miss Seraff. Chief Inspector Nathan Kell."

"Yes."
"Do you, as Immigration Officer, swear to faithfully uphold the duties assigned in this request?"
I slowly rose from my seat.

Looking directly at Erzena, I answered.
"I swear."
"Then the request is hereby accepted. As of this moment, all privileges granted to her as a visitor are revoked, and she is now entitled to rights and responsibilities equivalent to a citizen."

The final step.
The asylum request was now officially accepted.
Only then did Hylin’s expression soften as she extended a hand to Erzena.

"Welcome to asylum, Miss Erzena Seraff. Welcome to the Kingdom of Crossroads."
"Th… thank you."
Clearly flustered, Erzena took the hand, and Hylin shook it enthusiastically.

Even as she continued shaking, she turned to me with a question.
"Well, now that Miss Erzena’s safety has been secured… what’s your plan? Any schedule ahead?"
"You mean… right now? No real plan aside from heading back to the southern border."

Everything I’d needed to handle here was done.
What remained now was processing the departure of the three-thousand-strong crusade force waiting beyond the border.
I’d already left the Immigration Office in the hands of my direct subordinates for nearly two days.

I could almost hear their distant screams in my head.
"Chief Inspector, come baaaaaack!!"
"Aaargh! How are four people supposed to handle exit processing for 3,000?!"

"I’m quitting! Wait, who’s even left to accept my resignation?!"
"I need a drink. Today, tomorrow, the day after—I’m drinking every damn day."
If I didn’t return soon, who knew what they’d do.

Reading my expression, Hylin snorted with amusement.
"Don’t worry. If it’s just the two of you traveling, you’ve still got some time. With a fast carriage, it’s only a day’s ride."
"R-Really?"

"Of course. And with the size of the Pilgrimage Delegation, it’ll take them at least two days to reach the southern border. So then—how about a drink to celebrate?"
"A drink?"
She dangled the offer slyly.

Like a worker finishing a long job, she wiggled her fingers invitingly.
"Didn’t I tell you my father gave me an expensive bottle last time? What was it… oh, right! Frost Dragon Wine! The perfect toast for a day like this!"
"I gave that to the Auditory Inspector."

"...Eh?"
Her joyful expression froze in place.
"...Why?"

"I needed it to negotiate overtime for this whole Pilgrimage mess."
At my answer, she slumped onto the chair like a sack of potatoes.
Then pulled out a piece of pork jerky from her coat and lifelessly chewed it.

"...This is why people say inlanders have no soul. In the desert, it’s tradition to wash down great deeds with strong drink."
This isn’t the desert though.
Meanwhile, seeing Hylin gnawing irritably on jerky, Erzena’s face turned ghostly pale.

"P-Pork jerky…"
Her golden eyes trembled violently—as if she were watching a monster devour one of its own kind.
Leaving the grumbling Hylin behind, the Minister finally spoke.

"Well then, Chief Inspector. Are you heading straight back?"
"Ah. Well…"
That had been the plan.

But something Hylin said just now made me change my mind.
"If there’s still some time, then perhaps… I’d like to take a detour."
I turned my head to glance out the window.

Far in the distance, a quiet open space came into view.
Its sign read:
[Royal Cemetery]

"...I’m thinking of visiting the Visual Inspector."
A sudden desire rose within me—to visit a connection I hadn’t seen in a long time.