Chapter 434

“You have cast the spell used for heresy interrogations on me.”

The Archbishop of St. Stephen seemed startled for a moment, but soon looked calmly at the hands held fast by the blue mana.

The official couldn’t understand what was happening. His mind was completely blank. The young man was actually a mage from the Papal See, and he had just attacked the Archbishop of St. Stephen. His Majesty—the Emperor? What about him? The official’s eyes hurriedly shifted back to the front of the Archbishop in panic.

Then the Archbishop of St. Stephen spoke calmly.

“But what are you talking about? I am neither a heretic nor an apostate. Even if you are a mage of the Papal See, barging into an imperial ceremony and making baseless accusations like this is going too far.”

“…….”

“And why are you not using divine power? Father, you must be mistaken about something. You have to be. Because if this is not a misunderstanding, then you have no intention of proving my innocence—you only intend to slander me.”

The Archbishop of St. Stephen spoke in a quiet, measured voice, not losing the slightest bit of composure despite the chaos around him. It was undoubtedly the calmness that came with age and experience, but to the official watching him, he was so composed that it only made the situation harder to understand.

The young man is a mage from the Papal See.Could he be a fake? Why would he attack the Archbishop if the Archbishop had done nothing wrong?No. Is the Archbishop really innocent? What if David Graf really is a mage from the Papal See?Then does that mean the Archbishop really is a heretic?That can’t be!

His mind was filled with nothing but confusion.

The Vatican mage didn’t spare a glance at the dozens of wands pointed at him. He stared only at the Archbishop. Blue mana sparked like flames from the staff he held aloft.

An ordinary mage would have been subdued by now, but neither His Majesty nor anyone else had given an order. The wands of the guards and the St. Stephen clergy remained uselessly suspended in the air, unable to act for fear of laying a hand on a mage of the Papal See.

Unable to stand it any longer, the Minister of the Imperial Household drew his wand, leveled it, and shouted, “Put that staff away at once, or—!”

“Your Majesty, step back. The water on the palm branch is the very poison that killed Prime Minister Trapp.”

The Vatican mage’s voice rang out softly.

The air froze completely. It felt as though time itself had stopped. But this time, it was for an entirely different reason.

“…….”

That young man—that mage—was saying that the poison used to kill the Prime Minister was right here, and that it had even been mixed into the holy water prepared to bless His Majesty the Emperor. The droplets hanging from the tips of the palm branches, glittering in the sunlight, were the very means by which the murder had been carried out.

The official’s mind went blank. He could no longer think.

At what was practically a declaration made in the name of the Vatican, everyone’s widened eyes turned toward the Archbishop. Confusion and shock swept through the chapel. His Majesty stared wide-eyed as though he had just heard something impossible, then parted his lips and, unlike everyone else, looked directly at the Vatican mage.

At that moment, the Archbishop, his arms still restrained, asked solemnly, his face now showing shock and deep disappointment unlike before,

“Do you realize what you are accusing me of? Are you saying that holy water was used to kill His Excellency the Prime Minister? And as if that were not enough, you are calling the holy water just prepared for the Empire and His Majesty poison?”

The Vatican mage acted as though he had not heard him. When His Majesty’s fearsome gaze fell upon him, he did not even lower the Papal staff pointed at the Archbishop. Instead, he kept his eyes on the Archbishop and introduced himself.

“I apologize for the late introduction, Your Majesty. I am Lucio Armellini of the Papal See. I have come here at Your Majesty’s request.”

Dozens of wands were still pointed at Lucio Armellini. His Majesty held out a hand toward the Archbishop of St. Stephen, signaling him to wait, then drew the wand from his waist and slowly raised it. Its tip was aimed straight at Father Armellini’s face, passing from his feet to his legs and heart before settling between his eyes.

The official held his breath.

His Majesty’s solemn voice rang out.

“Father Armellini. I must know whether you truly are a mage sent by the Papal See.”

“My staff is proof enough.”

“The Papal See said that a portal would be opened at nine. What is the meaning of this?”

“I apologize, Your Majesty. The Papal See could not inform anyone in Austria that the schedule had been moved forward.”

Even with the needle-like tip of the Emperor’s silver wand aimed directly between his eyes, Lucio Armellini showed no concern. He spoke in the same calm voice that had impressed the official earlier. He continued in a firm, resolute tone.

“Even Your Majesty. If you prepared the ceremony to coincide with my arrival, the Archbishop of St. Stephen would notice it immediately.”

“The portal was never opened. Then how were you able to enter the Austro-Hungarian Empire so quickly?”

“Your Majesty, that is because I was already in Austria. Much like the Archbishop, I have ties to the Vatican while also being present within Austria. I will give a full account of this in the name of the Papal See once this matter is resolved. For now, you must understand that there is poison right before your eyes.”

As soon as he finished, the Archbishop spoke in a calm, quiet voice.

“Your Majesty, I understand that Father Armellini’s words must have left you deeply confused, but they are not true. How could such a plot possibly have been carried out in a sacred chapel? Please allow me to dispel the magic binding my hands.”

The Emperor, who had been looking at Armellini, merely gave a small nod. Veins stood out on the Archbishop of St. Stephen’s hands, and green mana burst from them.

Crash!

The blue mana binding both of the Archbishop’s hands shattered.

Meanwhile, the Emperor lowered the wand he had been pointing at Father Armellini and looked toward the Archbishop. It was a signal. Half of the dozens of wands aimed at Armellini—those belonging to the Imperial Guards, excluding the clergy who had accompanied the Archbishop—immediately turned toward the Archbishop of St. Stephen.

The Archbishop did not seem discouraged by the Emperor’s decision. Rather than becoming emotional, he calmly stated his innocence, paying no mind to the guards now targeting him.

“For a mage from the Vatican to witness a ceremony conducted in the name of the Roman Catholic Church and call it poison is an insult to the Catholic Church of Austria. The death of Prime Minister Trapp is not something one can casually make accusations about, and being a clergyman of the Vatican does not make an accusation based on speculation any less insulting to us.”

The Archbishop lowered his brows, looking like someone witnessing something deeply unfortunate.

“I wish to prove the integrity of the Catholic Church of Austria and clear this insult from our name. Your Majesty, would you grant me the opportunity to prove my innocence?”

The Emperor slowly looked back and forth between the Archbishop of St. Stephen and the holy water font. Then he gave a brief reply.

“Do so.”

The Archbishop bowed in thanks and dipped the palm branch into the holy water font.

Splash—

The sound of people holding their breath could be heard throughout the chapel.

So that holy water was the poison that had killed the Prime Minister? It made no sense. Had the Prime Minister really died because of holy water? Had the Archbishop truly dared to prepare poison right in front of His Majesty the Emperor? Impossible!

And yet Armellini standing beside him was clearly holding a staff from the Papal See. He had not used divine power yet, but the holiness and conviction in his voice could belong to no one but a clergyman. The official finally understood where the uprightness he had sensed in the his eyes came from. He was indeed handsome enough to make countless people admire him, but that was merely the surface. A person’s impression carried something more than their appearance.

Beyond the sheer perfection of his features, the impression given off by Armellini’s face could only reflect the life he had lived, his values, and his inner self. In the official’s eyes, that integrity and composure were qualities that could naturally draw anyone toward him. Now that he knew Armellini was someone who stayed close to God and constantly sought to better himself, everything seemed to fall into place. Lucio Armellini was someone who could not possibly be far removed from holiness, and now it was difficult to imagine him as anything but a clergyman. Even that Papal staff, said to be impossible to forge, lent weight to that belief. But if Lucio Armellini really was a mage sent by the Papal See—

Then it meant the Archbishop truly had tried to poison His Majesty the Emperor. It meant the liquid in that enormous font of holy water really was poison. It meant that everyone here might have trouble escaping with their lives.

The official stared at the palm branch submerged in the holy water font, his eyes trembling. His entire body shook with every beat of his heart. He didn’t know what to believe, or whether he would even make it out of here alive.

Drip—

When the Archbishop lifted the palm branch, the sound of water dripping echoed through the chapel. With solemn movements, he raised the branch above his own head and shook it. Drops of holy water ran down his face and neck.

“…….”

The official held his breath.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three.

Ten seconds passed, and nothing happened. With his eyes lowered, the Archbishop continued reciting his prayer, then dipped his right hand into the holy water and even made the sign of the cross.

“…In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

“…….”

Silence filled the chapel. After holding his breath, the Minister of the Imperial Household let it out sharply and glared at Lucio Armellini.

“And you still claim that this is poison?!”

Yet Lucio Armellini’s expression remained calm. Without the slightest sign of agitation, he spoke in a clear voice.

“If someone who must inevitably come into contact with water were planning a crime, is it not possible that they would devise a method that would not affect them? No. Wouldn’t it be stranger if they didn’t?”

“There is no such thing as a poison that only doesn’t work on the person who uses it!”

“That is because this poison, at present, only functions as a substance that affects the mind.”

The chapel fell silent in confusion. The poison was a mind control drug?

The German government had told them that Pleroma possessed an artificial drug capable of replacing roughly half the effects of mind manipulation magic. Lucio Armellini, however, had remained completely unfazed despite making one unbelievable claim after another.

Yet knowing something in his head was one thing. Accepting it was another.

“When this combines with artificial mana, such as the mana of a mana lamp or the artificial mana processed by the Ministry of Finance, it becomes the poison that killed Prime Minister Trapp. But when it combines with the mana within the human body, it transforms into a mind manipulation drug. If it does not combine with mana, this water will never become any kind of drug. It will simply remain holy water. How much more do I have to explain before you are willing to leave this place?”

The Minister of the Imperial Household twisted his face and gave an exaggerated scoff.

“That is pure speculation. You claim it undergoes some sort of transformation? Do you honestly expect us to believe that? How much more verification do you need before you are satisfied? Why are you, as a foreigner, disrupting our Empire’s solemn blessing ceremony?”

“I suppose I used a term that was too difficult for you. Is the oxidation of iron when it is left exposed to air also something you find impossible, Minister?”

“…….”

“Just as the atoms of this world change places with other atoms, combine, and break apart, mana works the same way. Mana reacting with other mana and changing into mana with different properties is the most basic principle there is.”

Lucio Armellini pointed the tip of his staff toward the Archbishop with a slight gesture.

“Until someone interferes with His Excellency the Archbishop’s mind, it would not appear to have any effect. Or, if you prefer another possibility, perhaps the caster of the mind manipulation magic is none other than His Excellency, the Archbishop of St. Stephen…”

Lucio Armellini raised his chin.

“Or perhaps His Excellency has already been under the effects of mind manipulation magic for quite some time.”

“Your Majesty, I am deeply sorry that we cannot bring the blessing ceremony to its conclusion.”

A subdued voice. The Emperor and everyone else turned their eyes toward the Archbishop of St. Stephen. With a solemn expression, the Archbishop looked at them all and said, “I will submit to an investigation. However, I would like Father Lucio Armellini to interrogate me himself. If that is what it takes to prove my innocence, then I am willing to do so.”

The Archbishop protested in a sorrowful voice, as though leaving his final words from the execution block, yet without letting his emotions get the better of him.

“Father Armellini has said that he cannot accept the fact that I have already proven this is not poison. Then there is nothing more I can do. Your Majesty, please allow me to undergo an investigation by Father Armellini using divine power.”

“You say ‘you have already proven it’? Your Excellency, you have not proven anything. If you pour the substance over someone whom the drug does not affect, we cannot observe any difference between before and after.”

“Father Armellini. Is that not simply because you are unable to use divine power?”

At the Archbishop’s stern words, the Minister of the Imperial Household suddenly shouted, “Father! Then who are we supposed to test that water on?! If it truly is poison—!”

“You are shouting at me, yet you are relying on my words to keep yourself alive.”

Armellini rebuked the Minister in a firm voice. Spreading his arms like the ancient Greek scholars who once stood in the agora, he raised his voice.

“You are all completely at a loss as to what to do. You do not know whether you should capture me or arrest His Excellency the Archbishop and his clergy, and you cannot even decide to leave this place and investigate the matter from outside! You are simply inching yourselves closer to death because no one is telling you what to do next. How long do you intend to keep breathing in this holy water as it evaporates, in a chapel where even the windows have not been opened?”

“That is because Father Armellini is pressuring everyone by revealing that he came from the Vatican. Just calm—”

The Archbishop countered with a grave expression. But the Emperor raised a hand to stop him and looked at Armellini.

“Father Armellini. Where are the other people from the Papal See?”

“Your Majesty, have you forgotten what I said earlier?”

What he had said earlier.

The court official immediately understood. Lucio Armellini had said that he could not even tell His Majesty the schedule of the operation, because the culprit might notice and flee. And he was right. Even the court official thought the Emperor had asked the wrong question. Armellini looked at him without any particular expectation and fabricated an answer to match the level of the question. At least, that was what the court official assumed.

“They have not arrived yet. I was the only one in Austria. Do you really have time to be asking about that?”

“Your Majesty—!”

“You need someone other than His Excellency the Archbishop to verify this, yet none of you believe me, so you waste time. At the same time, because you all believe what I am saying, none of you are willing to sprinkle the holy water on yourselves. How interesting. Why are you still staying here? Are you afraid that, if it really is poison, the evidence will be destroyed if you leave? Or do you think I might attack you while you are rushing for the door or turning your backs on me? Or perhaps you think you still have plenty of time because only five minutes have passed since the problem was brought up?”

There was no sarcasm in Armellini’s voice. He simply spoke calmly, as though he were stating an obvious fact.

That was right. They were all cowards. The court official included himself in that judgment. He could not fully trust Lucio Armellini, yet he could not dismiss what he was saying either. At the same time, he found himself trusting Armellini himself completely, and that only made his throat grow stiff with fear of whatever unknown thing was coming next. He could not leave without His Majesty’s order, and the Emperor was being indecisive, as he always was. He stood there in silence with a serious expression, but in this situation, it was not caution. It was indecision.

Lucio Armellini his staff against the floor and slowly stepped forward. He stopped in front of the font of holy water and quietly stared at the Archbishop.

“I will sprinkle it on myself. After that, everyone leave the chapel.”

“…!”

“Wait—!”

Splash—

Chairs rattled all around the chapel. Before anyone could stop him, Lucio Armellini dipped the palm branch into the holy water, raised his head toward the ceiling, and sprinkled the water over his own face. The sunlight glinting off every droplet now looked like blades meant to take his life. Then he touched the holy water with his right hand and made the sign of the cross, from his forehead to his chest, then from his left shoulder to his right.

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

His voice was still steady. Lucio Armellini stood firmly in place, his posture straight as he held his staff.

He did not die. There was no reaction at all. The court official felt his shock slowly give way to an uneasy sense of relief.

“Amen…”

BOOM—

“…!”

The court official’s mouth fell open. Armellini lost his balance and collapsed to the floor. Curling in on himself, he clawed at his face and began gasping for breath. The Emperor’s brow furrowed deeply. As the official and everyone else panicked at the ragged breathing that sounded as though Armellini were about to cross the River Styx, the Minister of the Imperial Household shouted.

“This kind of reaction is impossible for a mind control drug! Your Majesty, you know that as well. Even if someone were placed under a mind control spell, it wouldn’t interfere with their breathing. This is nothing but an act meant to make it look more serious than it is!”

The minister’s voice rang painfully in the official’s ears. He could barely think with it pounding in his head. His mind was already in chaos, and now his attention scattered even further. His eyes darted around on their own, and his heart pounded.

The minister’s words bounced right off him. There was no way this could be a mere act, not when Armellini could barely breathe, and the groans of pain coming from him were unmistakably those of someone in agony. It was a deadly poison. It was real.

Father Armellini had been right—the Archbishop had been trying to sprinkle poison on His Majesty!

But now they had no Vatican mage who could use divine power to purge the drug from his body. What about the other Vatican mages who were supposed to be waiting? No. Were they even waiting outside?

A chill ran through the official’s entire body, as though he were standing barefoot in a snowfield in the dead of winter. There was no one left to save them.

These fools—including the official himself—had been so cautious, so obsessed with figuring out who was friend and who was enemy, that they had brought this upon themselves. They had brought death upon themselves.

The Vatican mage had collapsed from a mere few drops of water, perhaps no more than 10ml. Then what about the water in that enormous font of holy water…? Just imagining it made his throat close up.

They had to get out. Even if His Majesty had not ordered it. Even if it meant they could never set foot in the Imperial Palace again!

Just as he reached that thought, the voices of the Minister of the Imperial Household and someone else rang out as though he were underwater.

“You must arrest that impostor priest at once. He isn’t even from the Vatican!”

“If there are spirits that roam the air between heaven and earth—”

BOOM—!

The official could hardly believe his eyes. Before he could even turn toward the thunderous explosion, he saw the water in the font of holy water rapidly draining away.

It hadn’t spilled onto the floor. No one had knocked it over. It was—

“AAAH!”

“Your Majesty! You have to get out!”

“Spread your rose-colored wings and descend from the golden air, and lead me toward new and varied forms of existence!”

It was a spell, but it was not a passage from the Bible. Instinctively, the official covered his nose and mouth with both hands. He did not know whether the doors would open, but just as he turned to run outside—

— Wash away all my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin.

BOOOOM—!

— For I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me.

Along with an unfamiliar voice, white light engulfed the world. Strangely, the official felt his mind becoming clearer, as though a layer of fog had been peeled away, and shielded his eyes with both arms. When he opened them again, he found himself doubting his own eyes once more.

“…!”

The hair of one of the court priests standing in the middle of the gale had turned white. The mage thrust his staff forward again. Somehow, his wand was not one of the Vatican’s, yet divine power spread from it all the same. There had been a Vatican mage among the priests of the imperial palace—No. The Vatican’s mages had disguised themselves not only as Lakai, but as court priests as well.

In that moment, the official finally understood the Vatican’s strategy completely.

The court priest continued purifying the air with the staff he had slammed down. Then, in a firm yet warm voice, he placed a hand on Lucio Armellini’s forehead.

“Father Armellini. You are all right now.”

When everyone had believed there was only one Vatican mage, the culprit must have been planning to use the moment Father Armellini willingly subjected himself to the mind control magic to accomplish his objective immediately and disappear.

In other words—

Father Armellini had given the terrorist at the scene an opportunity. An opportunity to dig his own grave.

Armellini had known that the culprit, already driven into a corner while unable to use his power, would desperately try to accomplish his objective. That was why he had splashed the holy water on himself. His fellow Vatican mage, waiting beside the Archbishop, must have seized the moment the culprit revealed his true identity. Which meant—

BOOOOM—!! CRASH—!

“…!”

Vitriol erupted from the hands of one of the priests of St. Stephen’s brought by the Archbishop—the monsignor sitting in the chair on the right. A massive black stream tore violently through the air. The magic of the three guards who moved to shield His Majesty collapsed helplessly, shattering apart. Before the Minister of the Imperial Household could desperately knock away the magic flying toward the Emperor, vitriol coiled around his neck.

The white-haired court priest slammed his staff down and rushed toward His Majesty. The moment the priest grabbed the Emperor’s arm, the two of them vanished.

Even as everyone ducked to avoid the attack, the streams of vitriol twisted into dozens of tendrils and swept through the chapel. The chandelier crashed to the floor and shattered.

For some reason, the warp wasn’t working. The official turned his head, clutching it with one hand. To get out, they would have to break through the door, but the door was already covered in vitriol.

If that holy water had truly activated the mind control magic within a person’s body, then the Monsignor of St. Stephen’s must have been manipulating the Archbishop’s mind. How advanced had Pleroma’s technology for mind control magic potions become? The culprit here could not possibly be the mastermind behind this Pleroma operation. He had to be just one cog among many. Even if they managed to escape this place, even if they were lucky enough to get out alive, the real problem would still remain within the Empire. And yet, even if the official himself were to die here…

— Surely.

The Pleroma members at this scene were already finished.

The moment Father Armellini collapsed had been the culprit’s final chance. The moment he failed to brainwash His Majesty despite using that last chance, the game was over. No—the “last chance” had belonged to the Vatican from the moment its mage infiltrated the palace disguised as a court priest. Everything had been in the hands of the two Vatican mages. From the very beginning, there had been no king on this chessboard that Pleroma could take.

— They are like stubble; the fire will burn them up. They cannot even save themselves from the power of the flame.

BANG—…

A firm, calm voice rang out amid the piercing roar of the vitriol.

When a ringing filled his head, the official realized that his hearing was no longer functioning properly. Everything around him seemed to move in slow motion. Light burst forth from before the altar, breaking apart the vitriol and pushing it back. The official shuddered at the deep-blue light that filled his vision from a single spell.

Someone let out a strangled gasp.

Something warm and viscous trickled from his ears, muffling the sounds of the world, yet that calm voice still seemed to sink directly into his mind.

“Father Tobias Huber.”

Father Lucio Armellini stood braced against the altar, the tip of the Papal Staff pointed at the Pleroma monsignor. Even though no one had told him the monsignor’s name, he called him by it.

The chapel doors burst open with a deafening crash, and Vatican clergy stormed inside. Behind the fierce blue, flame-like mana erupting from his staff, Lucio Armellini smiled with bloodshot eyes as he watched the monsignor struggle against the blue mana wrapped around his neck.

“It is time to admit your defeat.”