Something's Not Right (1)
Murmur, murmur.
A huge crowd of children had gathered in the territory of Eshua.
Rilai and Isaac, watching the scene unfold, wore identical expressions.
Even a rough headcount with the naked eye gave a startling estimate—one, two, three, four, fifty, a hundred…
Eventually, faced with over a hundred children, Rilai couldn't help but speak up.
"This… something's not right."
Hey. You think a single sentence covers how weird this is?
"I was told there were only 25 saint candidates."
Yeah, you lunatic, that's what the bishop said too.
"Then why are there 148 saint candidates?"
Exactly! Why the hell did that number jump, you little—!
They were currently in the process of receiving the candidates for sainthood.
To be fair, Gamo had sent the summons a month ago.
That might have been a tight timeframe to gather this many, but all saint candidates were already receiving training in the Holy See.
And with the power of sacred law behind them, traveling from the capital to Eshua in the eastern regions should've been easy enough.
The problem was, there weren't 24 candidates anymore.
And it wasn't just a clerical error or an inflation of numbers.
"There are candidates from other countries too, apparently."
"What? What do you mean, 'other countries'?"
"Well… a neighboring prince showed up claiming he's one of the candidates."
"What?!"
Oh come on, now someone's trying to immigrate just to become a saint?
Well, to be fair, holy figures like saints or saintesses were incredibly influential in the human realm.
It made sense for other nations to take interest—this was a political game-changer across the continent.
Just… no one expected it to escalate this much.
Not that Isaac was complaining.
"To think His Majesty himself would grace us with his presence!"
The people of Eshua, welcoming the guests, couldn't hide their excitement.
Whoever managed to talk the emperor into this—well, that was a powerful spell indeed.
If the emperor moved, the nobles would have to follow.
"With this kind of turnout, isn't this practically an official selection event?"
"Yes. With so many eyes on it, even the Holy See won't be able to ignore it."
"If Master Isaac manages to bring back the best item from here…!"
That would be as good as being officially recognized as a saint.
Which is why Rilai, who had opened the treasure vault for Isaac, now looked visibly flustered.
"This is unexpected. I thought no one would show up, thinking it was a trap set by Lord Gamo."
Honestly, Rilai hadn't expected much.
He just wanted to arm Isaac with the best sacred relic possible. He'd even planned to charge the boy's ring with his own holy power if necessary.
And that's when it happened.
"You think anyone'd mistake this for a trap, my friend?"
"!"
A young man approached Rilai with a bright smile. It was Simon, Rilai's old friend, laughing as he mentioned how Eshua had thrown the empire's noble houses into a frenzy.
"They're saying there's no way this is a trap if two weaklings from Eshua dared to show up. Haha!"
Crack.
That sound might've been from the blood vessels of Rilai's uncle or the knights of the Eshua house popping with rage.
A good hint of how the world viewed Eshua's men.
"But that boy's got the aura of someone destined for greatness. The Eshua lot really are a different breed. Standing next to him is like putting an elf beside a mudskipper."
Too late for compliments now, you jerk.
"Especially with Gamo putting that kind of prize on the line—no one's going to miss this. Not even the Pope could stay away."
Gamo did what now?
Isaac tilted his head in confusion, but Simon just nudged Rilai with a sly grin.
"By the way, Isaac doesn't have a fiancée yet, right? Our family has a girl about his age. Maybe you could put in a good word with your head—Gack?!"
Simon's face went pale.
He suddenly clutched at his pants—his belt was gone.
"Rilai! You bastard!"
In the meantime, Rilai had handed a glittering jeweled belt to Isaac.
"Here you go, Isaac. That ugly old mudskipper uncle gave you a present! You like things like this, right?"
"Ta-da!"
"Hey!"
There's no way Simon didn't recognize his own belt.
"Are you seriously stealing things with your ability?! And you call yourself a man of the cloth—Gack!!"
Pop! Pop! Pop!
This time, all the golden buttons on Simon's clothes vanished.
It happened faster than the eye could follow—clearly the work of Rilai's sacred ability: Swift.
"Oh my! That ugly uncle even gave you some solid gold this time. He owns a mine, you know. From now on, he's your money tree. And look, he even gave you pocket money for snacks!"
"?!"
He even stole the man's wallet!
Simon frantically patted himself down as the knights nearby stared in horrified disbelief.
"Good heavens, the model student Young Master Rilai, stealing?!"
"Of all people, someone so righteous and upright doing something so shameless!"
Meanwhile, Rilai had picked up on something else—his young nephew seemed to have a keen interest in money.
And sure enough, when presented with a piece of 99% pure gold, Isaac grinned from ear to ear like a little pervert, despite having no teeth.
"Aha, a mine, is it."
Now that he thought about it, the bear insignia engraved on that red accessory looked familiar.
It was a symbol he'd seen before—on a highly coveted piece of land in the human territories.
Wasn't it the red noble house, the House of Age? They were the ones who managed the treasure vaults of the high nobility.
Either way, if it was a merchant house like that, it was a thousand times more useful than a warrior clan. If he wanted revenge on the gods, he'd need to drain them from the inside.
That old red ring on the kid's thumb especially looked like it might come in handy…
Meanwhile, Simon, now reduced to a beggar, looked at him in disbelief.
"You strip a man down over a joke? And call yourself a friend?"
"Keep staring at our poor little nephew like that and I'll strip you down even further."
Geez. Someone's sulking.
Simon clicked his tongue.
It was the first time Rilai hadn't brushed something off as a joke.
Was it that, even if he could swallow his own humiliation, he wouldn't stay silent when it came to his nephew?
He hadn't expected those Eshua bastards to actually have a sense of familial love—he'd assumed it was all about camaraderie and duty.
"I'll take this."
"Aack! No—wait, you little brat! Not the ring! Not the ring!"
He especially hadn't expected one of the Eshua to be a money-obsessed little gremlin!
Isaac ended up yanking off the ring and popping it straight into his mouth.
Simon recoiled in horror, though Rilai just chuckled and told the attendant to take Isaac away.
"Looks like it's already time for the first birthday ritual. Get that ring out of his mouth, wash it, and return it later."
"That ring is really important. You have to give it back!"
"?"
If even someone from a wealthy house was saying that, just what kind of item was it?
But Simon was already looking around, distracted.
"By the way, where's the Papal faction? His Majesty is here—wouldn't the Pope's people come too? They usually scurry around after him."
Rilai gave him a what nonsense are you on about now kind of look.
"You really think they would come here?"
The House of Berit—one of the Five Grand Ducal Houses. And the ones who would be most uncomfortable with the existence of a new Saint.
The Golden Duke's House. The sworn enemies of the Eshua, the Holy Maiden's bloodline.
Simon just shrugged.
"Fair enough. Those foul-tempered royals would never set foot in a place like this anyway. Aren't they the ones who treat commoners like plague? Can't stand to breathe the same air, those pricks."
"Simon, language…"
"Pfft, why? My son's a Saint candidate too! As long as he shows up with something better than the Pope's snot-faced brats, we're good—"
And that's when it happened.
"It's unbecoming to associate with lowborns. Even worse to gossip behind their backs, Eshua."
"!"
The moment Rilai saw him, he frowned.
"Cardinal Berit!"
Mid-twenties, brown hair, older than Rilai.
Simon offered a stiff bow with a sour face.
"Well, well… Didn't think a man of your stature would show up in person."
Translation: What the hell is the Pope's lapdog doing here?
But the Cardinal, treating Simon like he didn't exist, wrinkled his nose at Rilai like he smelled sewage.
"I came out of curiosity to see the child they claim is a Saint candidate. But it seems he's not present."
Rilai didn't answer—he just frowned.
Hadn't Isaac nearly been poisoned by a bishop from the Holy See?
There was no way this man wasn't involved.
If anyone hated the Eshua—especially Isaac—it would be him.
"Don't tell me… one of the Pope's own children is participating?"
The one everyone already whispered might be the next Saint?
Of course.
"A weakling boy from the House of Eshua holding the first birthday ritual? I do hope he manages to pick up something—for the family's sake."
Just as expected.
He was here to smear Eshua's name, no matter what.
"No. No, it can't be…"
Suddenly, Rilai turned pale.
148 Saint candidates—out of nowhere?
There's no way the Holy See would accept random kids joining the ritual without protest.
That meant the Cardinal knew.
And the treasure vault? Already a suspicious place.
And this ceremony? A sacred rite to determine the Saint.
"They wouldn't really stoop to something so vile in a holy ceremony… would they?"
Still, if all those other kids decided to sabotage the Eshua boy, it wouldn't be surprising.
In fact, the damage might already be done.
"Isaac!"
His young nephew was in danger.
***
Boys born into the House of Eshua were infamous.
Tragic children.
Sickly weaklings born to a family of holy women.
Only their looks and lineage had value—no one expected anything else from them.
In short, easy prey.
But that didn't mean they were worthless.
Even in decline, the House of Eshua was still one of the Five Grand Ducal Houses, supporting the Holy Emperor and the Pope.
A house of legend—one that once stood against the Skeleton King, the strongest Demon Lord in myth.
To some, they held political value. To others, superior bloodlines.
Everyone had a reason to target them.
And if they were weak but valuable?
The perfect prey.
And every noble in the Holy Empire knew just how much the Papal faction hated the House of Eshua.
That meant humiliating Eshua here could win them favor with the Pope.
Slip in a little something, perhaps—make sure the boy couldn't even touch a treasure.
If he came out empty-handed, he'd be a laughingstock.
"So go ahead—play a little trick."
Following their parents' orders, several children moved quickly.
Everything was going according to plan…
***
"Ddaa-ya, ddaa-ya, dda-ya."
"…???"
At the treasure vault entrance—
Over a hundred Saint candidates stared at Isaac in utter confusion.
Shuri, perhaps embarrassed by all the attention—or pretending she didn't know him—sidled away.
Isaac was chugging down drinks like a man dying of thirst. The group that had handed him the drink were sweating bullets.
Something was wrong.
Isaac was the only baby among the Saint candidates.
They had confirmed their target and casually offered him a drink.
It was sweltering in the vault, and the poor baby looked parched—what better excuse?
And the only allowed item inside was a water bottle. One that had, of course, been laced with a heavy laxative—per orders to humiliate Eshua.
So then…
"Dda-uh-ya (Hey)!"
Why…?
"Dda-dduh-ya (Pour me another!)"
Why is this kid still fine?!
"Ddu-ttuk-ya (You mixed that stuff thick, didn't you?)!"
His eyes were glazed like he was drunk?!
"Dda-ya-ya-ya (My mana's charging, so pour faster, you baby-faced clergy chickens! You think you can ignore an elder?!)"
And now he's biting them to get more?!
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