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The morning after Luria was attacked, Archbishop Sauro learned of the incident.
Archbishop Sauro of the Valois region was the one who named Luria and was subsequently attacked by the guardian beasts.
“Your Eminence, what should we do?”
A subordinate priest, reporting the information he had gathered, sought Sauro’s guidance as the archbishop lay on a bed, his body wrapped in bandages.
Sauro had already instructed his subordinates to investigate the area around Luria.
“This is a grave matter.” “…To think the attack would fail.”
At the priest’s muttered words, the archbishop’s eyes widened.
“…Those words. Are you blaspheming against God?” “What? That was not my intent!” “Repent. Protecting Lady Luria is the will of God, is it not? I taught you as much, did I not?” “B-but…”
The priest had indeed heard those words before, but he never thought the archbishop meant them sincerely.
He had assumed the instruction to investigate Luria’s surroundings was to gather leverage against her. If there were a significant vulnerability, an attack to injure or even kill her could be justified. After all, this had been the typical modus operandi of not just Sauro but the Church of the One True God.
“But? What do you mean? Are you suggesting you intend to oppose the sacred will of God?” “N-no, Your Eminence. I was mistaken.”
Bowing deeply, the priest recalled the recent events.
A few days earlier, Sauro had been gravely injured in a forest near the grand duke’s estate. After being rescued, he had commanded, “Watch over Lady Luria.” Naturally, he had publicly claimed it was to protect her.
However, such a declaration was typically considered insurance—for justification if the surveillance was discovered or if harm came to her. The phrase “to protect” could be a convenient excuse, and blame for any harm could easily be shifted to subordinates.
High-ranking clergy in the Church of the One True God rarely issued direct orders. Success within the Church depended on one’s ability to interpret the unspoken meanings behind such statements.
“To think that truly protecting Lady Luria is the will of God… It never crossed my mind.” “Then let me make it clear again: it is the will of God. Do you understand now?”
With that, Sauro rose from the bed. A wave of pain so intense it nearly caused him to faint swept over him.
“Ah… ahhh…”
Despite the agony, a look of ecstasy spread across Sauro’s face.
While his broken bones had been treated to prevent hindrance to his duties, his other injuries were left untouched. To Sauro, these wounds were sacred marks, proof of divine correction when he had strayed from the path.
Sauro, his face still marred by injuries, approached the priest. The scent of blood filled the air as his movements reopened his wounds.
“Your Eminence, please allow us to treat you…” “It is unnecessary. These are proof of God’s love.” “But at least permit us to apply antiseptics and change your bandages. If not, the holy sanctuary will be defiled with blood.” “…Very well. Proceed.”
Seated in a chair, Sauro allowed the priest to tend to his wounds while he asked a question.
“So, who is foolish enough to harm Lady Luria?” “While there is no definitive proof, it is almost certainly—”
The priest named another archbishop known for his extremist views, particularly his zealous persecution of spirit worship.
“Indeed, it must be him. Considering the movements of his private forces, it all aligns.”
Knowing that Luria shared the hair and eye color of the “Calamity Witch,” it was no surprise that such an archbishop would either abduct or kill her. That he had already taken action, however, was unexpected. Sauro, reflecting on his failure to predict this, blamed himself for not preemptively preventing the attack.
“Oh, God, forgive this foolish lamb…”
The priest could only watch in astonishment as Sauro abruptly knelt mid-treatment and began to pray. When his prayer ended, Sauro sat back down as if nothing had happened.
“First, we must root out whoever informed that archbishop about Lady Luria.”
The Grand Duke’s family had kept Luria’s red hair and eyes a secret. If the extremist archbishop had learned of it, the leak likely came from Sauro’s own subordinates.
“But before that, we should send our condolences to the Grand Duke’s family.” “Wouldn’t that make you the prime suspect, Your Eminence?”
Sending condolences immediately after orchestrating an attack was a typical method of intimidation employed by the Church of the One True God. By doing so while the incident was still under wraps, the message served as both a veiled threat and a reminder of the Church’s power.
“It does not matter. What’s more important is informing the Grand Duke of the suspected archbishop’s name.”
This would aid the Grand Duke’s investigation.
Sauro did not expect to gain the Grand Duke’s trust. It was enough if the incident was perceived as internal Church strife.
“Prepare a letter. Wait here.”
Sauro meticulously wrote a letter of condolence, apologizing for the disturbance during the naming ceremony and detailing his findings without omission.
“Deliver this.” “As you command.”
“Now, it’s time to deal with the enemies of God.”
The Church of the One True God was rife with internal strife. Sauro found this profoundly lamentable.
“Oh God, behold the labors of your loyal servant.”
With these words, Sauro, despite his injuries, walked through the church with a calm demeanor.
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Shortly thereafter, a major conflict erupted within the Church of the One True God.
Within two years, three archbishops known for their extremism were demoted to regular priests and exiled to small, remote churches. One archbishop even died suddenly under mysterious circumstances.
That deceased archbishop was none other than the mastermind behind Luria’s attack.
It was widely known among nobles and high-ranking clergy that the Grand Duke of Valois, Luria’s father, Count Graf, had intervened in the Church’s internal strife. The sheer terror of the situation kept everyone silent, leaving it an open secret.
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