Even a Scoundrel Gets Tired

49 – The Pope (2)

“…aren’t we?”

“…we are.”

Two voices echoed from the darkness.

For a moment, the only thought in my mind was that someone had infiltrated my room,

and ready to pounce, I scanned my surroundings as I shot awake, but

“Oh, you’re awake.”

“You looked rather weary, Brother.”

“..Why have you come?”

The figures before me were the Saintess and the Pope, no less.

Holding a bottle of liquor in hand, of all things, from where I couldn’t fathom.

“Well, a guest has arrived. Why don’t you come sit for a spell?”

“..Yes.”

At the Pope’s summons, he who downed his wine in one smooth motion,

I joined them, taking a seat.

The Pope proceeded to pour a glass for himself, then offered one to me.

Though the Saintess intervened, of course.

“Your Holiness, we are minors.”

“Ah, so you are. My apologies.”

As he spoke, continuing to savor his wine, I inquired as to the reason for their visit.

If the Pope and Saintess were to seek me out at this hour, surely there was a reason.

“Hmm, well, I have an offer to make. No grand reason behind it, really.”

“An offer…you say?”

“Indeed, an offer.”

His gaze, as he regarded me, was grave, belying the lightheartedness he’d displayed while enjoying his wine.

“Tell me, would you be amenable to receiving support from the Order?”

“..Pardon?”

The weight of his words mirrored the intensity of his gaze.

A sudden visit, and now, talk of the Order’s support.

I scarcely knew the significance of the mark etched upon my brow.

“..Could you perhaps begin at the beginning?”

“Hmm? Explain what, exactly?”

“I am curious as to the reason you are offering me such a thing.”

“..You are unaware of the meaning behind that mark, then?”

“..That the Goddess has her eye on me?”

“You know full well, so why feign ignorance?”

With the Pope’s confirmation, further contemplation was unnecessary.

As I’d stated before, not even the Pope himself had witnessed the Goddess directly.

The Goddess was known to be impartial to all save the Saintess.

Therefore, the emergence of a human favored by the Goddess was something the Order could ill afford to let slip through their fingers.

A fresh testament to the Goddess’s existence.

Hence this proposition, to take the Order as my patron.

And if I were to become a member, all the better.

The prospect of the Order’s backing was certainly tempting.

Anything I needed, I could surely obtain.

A power to rival even the Imperial Family.

“I apologize.”

“Hahaha! Of course… Wait, what did you say?”

“I said I refuse.”

It’s just that it doesn’t offer that many merits.

Money?

The profits from selling scrolls alone are enough.

Living environment?

I much prefer the cozy dormitory with Ella to a room this large and extravagant.

Honor?

As if I have the time to worry about such things.

I’m already looking at years of investing to acquire the relics needed for human creation.

Besides, as long as the Order is backing me,

they’ll undoubtedly keep trying to get me to join.

I can’t do anything else, but I absolutely refuse to praise and worship that woman.

“… “

“Is that everything you wished to say?”

The Pope set down his goblet, an expression of shock on his face.

The Saintess, on the other hand, showed no particular reaction, as if she had expected this.

“Can I at least hear the reason?”

“I have no desire to be a pawn in the political games of your superiors.”

“Hold on, you!”

The Saintess, provoked by my words, shot up from her seat.

Understandably so. After all, the ‘superiors’ I referred to included the Pope.

And perhaps she reacted even more strongly because he is her adoptive father.

“Is there anything I said that is untrue?”

“That sort of problem—”

“Kkhahahahaha!!!”

The Pope, having set down his goblet, burst into a fit of jovial laughter,

laughing heartily as if he was enjoying the situation immensely.

Like a child delighted with a new toy.

He laughed for so long that he eventually collapsed onto the floor, exhausted.

A vulgar display, blasphemous even, in the eyes of many.

“Kekek…Yes, to be used like that, I can see how that wouldn’t sit well.”

“…”

“I, too, have been on the receiving end of such things in the past. I apologize if I offended you.”

“…It is nothing.”

“Well, nevertheless, as the Pope of this Order, I will shamelessly ask again.”

“…”

“Will you not reconsider relying on our Order for support? Name your terms. Anything is possible.”

“F-Father!”

“Oh! It’s been a while since I’ve heard you call me that. Hahaha!”

This was an unbelievable boon.

It meant the Pope was yielding a step to me.

The Saintess seemed to realize it too, and looked as though she wanted to stop him, but

the Pope, already set on his decision, brushed off her voice with ease.

“There aren’t any conditions that won’t do?”

“Hmm, that’s right. In return, once the condition is fulfilled, I’d like you to answer a few questions.”

“I don’t know what they are, but I will.”

“Good, then, what is the condition?”

I inhaled deeply, as if pausing to gather my thoughts, and

the longer my response was delayed, the more the Saintess and Pope focused their gazes on me.

“Firstly, do not attempt to proselytize me.”

“Hmm…that’s a shame.”

“I think so too.”

These people.

Regardless of anything else, I still felt a distaste for divine power.

Enough so that I wouldn’t receive it unless absolutely in need of healing.

“Secondly, do not announce that I am a human chosen by the Goddess.”

“Ah, that won’t do.”

“Wouldn’t that be a bit much?”

The two opinions aligned.

Well, truth be told, I did expect that this particular request would be met with opposition.

The Order also needs proof, after all.

There are often those who only accept it once they’ve seen the Goddess’s mark.

But from my perspective, it’s bound to be troublesome.

I’m already garnering attention for having defeated a mid-tier monster.

Of course, there were those who came up to me with praise or flattery, saying they looked at me with new respect.

But the opposite certainly exists as well.

The thought of those pathetic b*stards, consumed by envy and jealousy, constantly trying to keep me in check

already filled me with annoyance and displeasure.

≪User’s displeasure is rapidly increasing.≫

≪Analyzing the cause…≫

Just shut up for a bit, will you.

Anyway, my point is, I don’t want to be the center of attention, if possible.

But even if they say it’s difficult, what can they do?

For now, at least, I’m in a position of power.

“If you cannot accept these two conditions,

then I cannot play along as you desire.”

“…Even if I were to resort to force?”

The moment the words left his lips, a considerable amount of holy power erupted from his body.

The air around us grew steadily heavier, a palpable pressure bearing down on me.

It was within my ability to withstand, however,

and I just barely managed to hold my ground, fixing my gaze upon his face.

“This is… I’ve been chosen by a goddess…”

“…Your words ring true.”

The holy power that had been suffocating the room vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and

the Pope, still holding the now-cracked glass he had been using to pour wine, finally spoke.

“Well, I shall grant your request. It must be the Goddess’s will.

Whatever you need, resources or otherwise, simply name it.”

“…Should I offer my thanks to the Goddess?”

“You! Watch your tongue!”

The Pope chuckled once more at my words, then,

wiping a tear from his eye, continued the conversation, looking directly at me.

“Haha! You are a more amusing fellow than I anticipated. Are you truly unwilling to join the clergy?”

“Not even if the heavens themselves were to crumble.”

“Kheh heh, I suppose not.”

With those words, he refilled the cracked glass

and promptly drained it in one long gulp.

Despite the amount he’d consumed, not a hint of intoxication touched his face.

Perhaps it was due to his holy power; it wasn’t an ability I particularly envied.

There were times when one simply needed to be drunk, after all.

“Ah, may I ask you some questions now?”

“…? Yes, as you wish.”

“You have visited the Goddess, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“What did you do upon meeting her? What does she look like? Is she beautiful?”

His barrage of rapid-fire questions caused me to stumble back,

and the Saintess, as if to defend me, attempted to restrain the Pope.

“Your Holiness! You’re making him uncomfortab—”

“My daughter.”

“Yes…yes?”

“Are you not curious, about the Goddess’s appearance, I mean?”

“…”

“What does she look like? What does her voice sound like? If I could meet her, what would I do first?”

“…”

“Are you not curious?”

Before long, the Saintess seemed to be swayed by the Pope’s fervor;

she stopped trying to dissuade him and instead moved closer to me, joining in the questioning.

What they looked like, what their voices were like, whether I’d perhaps even witnessed an angel.

Truly, questions that seemed to have melted the Pope’s entire life into them came flying at me, and

I answered all the ones I could.

Honestly, one by one.

The Goddess, to be frank, was beautiful, and her voice was melodious.

Michael, needless to say, boasted the most exquisite beauty, and

the scenery of the Divine Realm was also a breathtaking spectacle, I told them.

“Then! Then, what did you *do* after meeting Her?!”

“Ah, I was tortured─”

“”What?!””

Oops, seems I misspoke.

In the Pope’s eyes, which I glimpsed, divine power was flashing.

Probably to confirm whether my words were true, but it was rather frightening.

Just like a cat’s eyes gleaming in the night.

The Saintess’s divine power was erupting from her fist instead of her eyes.

Truly, if my words were indeed the truth, she looked ready to leap at me right then and there.

“You… you!!”

“Just a moment, please calm down. I can explain everyth─”

“You blasphemous one!!”

It seemed a little too late for explanations.

*

‘Damn it, to humiliate me in front of so many people…’

Bishop Lignil, a pig of a man, was cramming food into his mouth, never ceasing his thoughts.

A nun was panting on the bed where he sat, and

the way she fondled her chest and moaned, she was no different from a harlot.

Lignil, who had just been enjoying her body and had taken a brief respite,

was brooding over the Pope who had humiliated him in front of all those priests.

Lignil always believed himself to be a chosen one.

He believed that this divine power too was a grace bestowed upon him by the Goddess, who recognized him.

Completely unaware of his lack of talent.

Since he had been greedy from the beginning, when he was granted the authority of a bishop,

he was no longer a normal man.

He believed that commoners should bow their heads to him, and

he had become a beast that violated young women indiscriminately.

Today too, he had picked out a nun he fancied, violated her using drugs, and

was enjoying a pleasant time when he heard a knock.

Tap-tap-

“Who is it?!”

“It’s Antonio, Bishop Lignil.”

“…What is it?”

“I have some business… May I come in?”

“…Enter.”

The door opened to reveal a tall man with ash-grey hair. He was a giant, easily surpassing 190 centimeters, and reputed to possess a fine character to boot. Though his origins remained unclear, there was no refusing someone seeking initiation into the Order. They had admitted him with some trepidation, but he had proven to be a dependable and well-regarded man.

“What is it? My mood is not favorable today.”

“Ah… Is it because of the Pope?”

“…Silence.”

“I feel the Pope was too harsh. To publicly rebuke you like that, regardless…”

“…”

He seemed overjoyed to have found an ally. He unleashed a torrent of resentment that had been building against the Pope. He was in the midst of listing the thirteenth reason he disliked the Pope when Antonio interrupted, offering a proposition.

“…Bishop Rignil, do you not wish to become Pope?”

“…What?! What are you saying?”

“The faction I am allied with… they have infiltrated the Order. There is talk of a Saint emerging. Wouldn’t that create… turbulence within?”

“…I will pretend I didn’t hear that. The risk is too great.”

“If you assist us, we will deliver the Saintess to you.”

At those words, Bishop Rignil, who had been turning away, stopped dead.

The Saintess. The Saintess, you say. He would be gifted that beautiful, young girl? That little wench with a body that, despite her youth, stirred men to desire? Just the thought of crushing her small, fragile form beneath him…

His trousers tightened, straining against the fabric. Antonio, sensing his moment, leaned in, whispering even softer into his ear.

“Imagine it. That girl, beneath you, whimpering your name…”

“…”

“If you align with us, the Papal seat is not an impossible dream.”

“Ahem… What is it you require me to do?”

Rignil pictured the Saintess in his bed, then pictured the Order under his control. A wide smile spread across his face.

And Antonio, his eye color having subtly shifted to violet, mirrored the expression. A smile as pure as a young child’s.