Completion Ceremony
At the completion ceremony, four people approached us — the Archbishop, two Bishops, and what looked like two attendants.
“What a splendid church you’ve built. I’d heard it was supposed to be a small one,” said the elderly Bishop as he looked up at the building.
“Bishop Randel, may I ask why Archbishop Julius himself has come?” Father asked, his expression stiff.
“He happened to have business with me, you see. At my age, traveling to the royal capital is rather hard, so when I told him I couldn’t make the trip, he decided to come to me instead,” Bishop Randel replied casually.
That’s a lie—there’s no way you can just refuse when the Archbishop himself says “come.”
“It’s true,” the Archbishop said in a gentle tone. “I didn’t even tell him I’d be coming today. When he mentioned he had an errand to run, I thought it was an excuse to slip away, so I insisted on accompanying him—and to my surprise, it turned out to be a visit to House Westland.”
That soft, kind voice, paired with that handsome face… I bet he’s gathered a flock of adoring, blind followers.
But unlike the old Bishop, there was something… suspicious about him. The kind of person I’d really rather not deal with personally.
Nobles are scary, but the church is scary too. The higher-ups there must be locked in constant power struggles.
I thought it’d be a while before the church started getting involved with us, but I guess they didn’t want to miss this chance.
Ah, how unpleasant.
“Don’t believe me?” the Archbishop said with a gentle smile. “Bishop Randel is my mentor—the one person I could never surpass.”
… Wait. Did he just read my thoughts? Maybe he can. I hope this ends quickly so they’ll just go home.
Father led them inside, and we all sat down on the pews.
Archbishop Julius sat across from us, while the one leading the prayer to the Three Gods was the old Bishop—not the Archbishop, as I’d expected.
As the old Bishop began to pray, sunlight streamed through the window, shining down upon the images of the Three Gods. The sight was almost divine.
It might’ve been blinding for the Bishop, though…
When the prayer ended, the light slowly faded away.
What was that? Some kind of stage effect? Who was behind it?
The old Bishop? Or… the Three Gods themselves?
No, let’s just call it coincidence. Best not to think too deeply about it. Yeah.
Father offered to serve tea, but the Archbishop declined, saying he needed to return to the capital. Only the old Bishop stayed behind.
“I was surprised to see the stained-glass window in the central wall,” said the Archbishop. “But I’m even more impressed that it was designed so that sunlight would illuminate the altar like that. We’ll take inspiration from this for future church buildings.”
We didn’t plan that at all… It’s just a simple glass painting—a sort of fake stained glass, really.
Then the Archbishop turned to me.
“You’re Reinhardt, correct? I heard you have two attributes—healing and water—and quite a lot of mana. I’m the same, actually. When I was young, I struggled with controlling my magic too. If you ever need advice—whether about magic or anything else—feel free to come see me.”
I tensed up, but… maybe he wasn’t trying to recruit me after all.
Given how young he is to already be an Archbishop, I thought he might be ambitious, but maybe I was wrong.
“Sorry about that,” the old Bishop said with a shrug once the Archbishop left. “He showed up unannounced yesterday too. I tried to stop him today, but he just followed me.”
“Shouldn’t we have seen him off properly?” Father asked.
“Oh, he came in secret. It’d be bad if anyone found out, so better not to make a fuss.”
So it really was just coincidence.
Maybe he noticed my sigh of relief, because the old Bishop chuckled.
“You looked like you were bracing yourself for a church recruitment pitch, Reinhardt.”
“Bishop Randel…” Father said apologetically.
“No, no, I don’t approve of forcing anyone into the church,” Bishop Randel said, smiling faintly. “Still, it’s true that some people have been coercing those with strong healing magic into joining. A shame, really.”
His face briefly clouded with sadness before returning to normal.
“But this matcha roll cake is wonderful. Is this one of the famous new Westland creations?”
“No, this is made with powdered tea developed by the Garuda family. Their daughter is engaged to my nephew, and she sent us some.”
“I see! Then I’ll look forward to it being sold under the Garuda name someday.”
As he left, the old Bishop leaned in and whispered so only my parents and I could hear:
“As long as I’m around, they won’t try anything too forceful. But I’m getting on in years, and I won’t hold this position forever. The next one who comes after me will likely be… different. Be careful.”
And with that quiet warning, he departed.
What do you think about this chapter?
