Chapter 69
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69.
Cassian Artez and I had anticipated several scenarios for when the Heresy Inquisitors or the Clergy might descend upon us.
To prepare for such contingencies, I had requested that the Winter Palace Knights attending today's investiture ceremony be ready to respond.
Among them, the Winter Palace Knight Commander was renowned for his steadfast loyalty—his assignment to the young Cassian Artez in childhood had seemed like the First Empress's deliberate slight.
Yet the young Cassian Artez, aware of the prejudiced gazes that followed him, gradually shed that shell through sheer determination and excellence.
On his first battlefield, a mere eleven-year-old boy had carved an escape route for the knights and single-handedly held back a sandstorm and monsters—a feat that surely resonated deeply.
More than that, Cassian Artez had not only survived that battlefield and escaped the ignominy of being despised by the gods, but had also earned the unwavering loyalty of this steadfast knight commander.
Now, more than a decade later, that once-young and devoted knight commander had been forced to assist with the endless administrative burdens pouring into the Winter Palace, gradually eroding his trust in the Temple.
Furthermore, during the recent dragon subjugation, witnessing Saint Wesley Morel stand in opposition to the Clergy had made it impossible for him to view the Temple differently—regardless of his faith in the gods themselves.
Of course, only we had noticed this shift, so I thought that if this renowned knight commander were to expose the Temple's shameful secrets, the blow would be devastating indeed.
If we were going to reopen old wounds, we might as well make them sting.
I decided to recite historical facts to the Heresy Inquisitors, who stared at me in stunned silence.
"For your information, everything I'm about to say has been verified by Saint Wesley Morel himself, so I would advise against needless refutation that might further tarnish the Temple's honor."
Even before the magical scroll arrived, I had anticipated that this wretched original story would throw every conceivable death crisis at me, so I had prepared accordingly.
At my gentle smile, the Heresy Inquisitors' faces darkened as thoroughly as the black vestments they wore, even with all their theatrical staging.
*
The witch hunts were among the Temple's most egregious abuses, orchestrated purely to extort wealth.
Their targets were particularly vile: wealthy widows, female heirs, and professional women such as apothecaries.
It mirrored precisely the witch hunts of medieval times from my past life—same sinister purpose.
The trials, naturally, were utterly devoid of fairness; those branded as witches had no choice but to perish.
Afterward, the Temple would seize the "witch's" assets under the guise of purifying ill-gotten gains, effortlessly swelling their coffers.
According to Wesley Morel, Saint Stasha, who possessed divine power comparable to Kangrim's, had intended to expose all these hidden transgressions.
However, an Ether Dragon that had lain dormant within the Empire suddenly went berserk, and she sacrificed herself to contain it, leaving only her name in the Temple's annals.
So I resolved to fulfill her dream in her stead.
"If this is all in service of Saint Stasha's legacy, and I am merely bringing to light what has long been concealed, can you truly call me a heretic?"
"That is... well..."
"Saint Stasha is known throughout history as the holiest maiden, closest to the Divine, powerful enough to withstand the mightiest and most formidable Ether Dragon ever recorded. Would you truly sully her sacred name by twisting it to justify your wicked customs, all without a shred of evidence against me?"
The Heresy Inquisitor exchanged glances with the other clergy, searching for a way forward, but finding none, he lowered his head.
"I ask again: do you possess clear evidence that I am a heretic, when I have so faithfully upheld the legacy of this great Saint?"
If anything, it seems you are the ones who have betrayed Saint Stasha's wishes—making you the true heretics.
I smiled brightly, pouring all of that sentiment into my expression.
Naturally, the Heresy Inquisitor found himself at a loss for words and began hastily gathering his whip to retreat.
"I, I shall withdraw now. It appears we have gravely misunderstood the situation. I apologize for disturbing such a joyous occasion with needless conflict."
How shameless—attempting to slip away with mere words.
"Just a moment. You're simply leaving like this? After putting me on the pyre? After attempting to claim the Dragon's Lair as the Temple's own?!"
"S-Salice, or rather, Marquis of Clupeae!"
"Unlike you clergy, I have no vow of poverty. I am a worldly administrator with meticulous accounts."
"A-are you demanding compensation from us?!"
The Heresy Inquisitor stared at me in utter disbelief.
"That is a matter for private discussion between us. For now, I act solely in my capacity as Marquis of Clupeae, Winter Palace Advisor and Imperial Nobility, fulfilling my duties."
Civil matters are separate, after all.
I caught sight of the Emperor's satisfied smile—cunning as ever—and launched into my official remarks.
"First, allow me to present the laws you clergy have violated and the treaties between the Temple and the Imperial Palace!"
At my thorough exposition, Cassian Artez clicked his tongue and spoke softly to them.
"Did I not warn you? I hope you do not come to regret this."
*
As my forbidden treaty flowed out with practiced precision, the Heresy Inquisitors' faces drained of vitality like those standing at death's threshold.
I recited every violation they had committed, and I did not neglect to point out the loopholes the Temple had exploited all this while.
"Your Majesty, when the Imperial Palace withholds taxes from its bureaucrats, it does not demand payment from wages they have not yet received."
But the Temple was different.
Knights who marched to war, or those with precarious standing within the Imperial Palace, sometimes could not secure their rightful compensation.
And that was not all—occasionally, administrative officials found themselves compelled to request unpaid extended leave for personal reasons.
Yet upon investigation, I discovered that the Temple demanded nominal donations based on what they would have originally earned, even in such circumstances.
At my signal, the Winter Palace administrator who had been preparing the documents swiftly delivered neatly organized files to the Emperor and the Priests.
"These are materials the Winter Palace has investigated over the past two years. The Temple's donation collection rate stands at a staggering 13% of income—higher than the withholding tax of most salaried workers. However."
I then requested that the administrator turn to the next page of the documents.
The Emperor nodded with a pleased expression.
Conversely, the Temple's representatives grew increasingly eager to flee this situation.
"The Temple has never once disclosed how it uses these funds. Just three years ago, Prince Cassian Artez demanded an accounting regarding the facility disparities and the condition of children between the Temple and state-supported private orphanages, but the Temple refused."
Of course, that refusal was technically their right, yet the fact that they had never once complied with such demands was tantamount to crying out, 'We have much to hide.'
I proceeded to enumerate comparisons with private and state-supported institutions, detailing at length how extensively the Temple had concealed its misconduct behind the shield of God's name.
"For these reasons, I request once more in this chamber: transparent accounting of the Temple's operational funds."
"That—that is an overreach!"
"Yes, certainly thirty years ago you could have claimed overreach, and we accommodated you out of precedent and the Temple's dignity. But this is a legitimate demand from the Imperial Family."
Toward the Heresy Inquisitor, cornered and oblivious to how the world had changed, I extended a courteous gesture inviting him to turn another page.
The Heresy Inquisitor, turning the documents with a reluctant expression, dropped the papers entirely.
"The Holy Knight Order transferred all responsibility for subjugating monsters to the Imperial Family, and the Temple has been receiving state support under the pretense of poor relief and child protection for quite some time now."
And the Empire possessed the right to investigate how organizations receiving its funds used them.
Of course, though many seemed aware of this, none had dared openly acknowledge it due to propriety and other such concerns.
"For these reasons, Your Majesty, I humbly request that you entrust the investigation of the Temple's fund expenditures to the Winter Palace."
I harbored no hesitation whatsoever in taking on such responsibility.
After all, what did I care for a god who had not granted even the smallest wish I had desperately prayed for since childhood?
To my request, the cunning Emperor made a show of deliberation for propriety's sake before finally consenting, adorning his permission with all manner of justifications about serving the nation.
His eyes were smiling, yet how truly contemptible he was.
*
"Roselita, you see..."
"Yes?"
At Cassian's remark, I didn't even lift my head from the documents, offering only a brief response.
"Every time you complain about overtime, you always seem genuinely eager to take on more work."
I fell silent at his words.
I'd entrusted the Temple's breach of contract negotiations to the Sun Palace Official, believing they would exact their own vengeance, but it was true that I had brought forward the tax audit—or rather, the subsidy investigation.
'Still, no one else would be able to shake them down as thoroughly as we can.'
And besides, revenge tastes sweetest when served by your own hand!
Even as I thought this, a small pang of guilt pricked at me, so I spoke in a somewhat mumbled tone.
"...It's something that would have needed doing eventually anyway. I'm just doing it a bit sooner, that's all."
"And what of your resentment over that steady 13% deduction from your salary statement?"
"Of course,"
"Of course?"
When I lifted my head, Cassian was grinning broadly.
My superior truly knew me far too well.
I promptly buried my face back in the documents, checking off clauses that would bind the Temple's hands, and spoke with complete honesty.
"Of course that's the biggest reason!"
In my past life's company, at least the pension and insurance withheld from my paycheck were benefits I could eventually claim.
But here, they pocket everything themselves, use it to line their bellies or scheme their dark plots, and on top of that, they don't even submit to tax audits yet still collect religious tithes?
As a conscientious wage earner, I simply could not forgive it.
'Please, I beg you, understand that this isn't about some protagonist's sense of justice or forgiving future atrocities!'
Whether it was the original work or the divine will that refused to hear my pleas, I cried out once more, desperately, in my heart.
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