The Yellow-Haired Villain in Soaring Phoenix's Novels Also Desires Happiness

“Heretics?”

Krete stopped what he was doing and looked up. A trace of confusion showed between his sharp, severe brows.

“At a time like this?”

He looked out into the night beyond the window and murmured, “It shouldn’t be...”

On the surface, the entire royal capital looked calm. But for some time now, the whole of the Eye of the Saints had been working around the clock to maintain the hidden order beneath that calm. Any abnormalities should have been discovered by them the moment they surfaced—not “reported” by some so-called concerned citizen.

After all, this was a special period during wartime. To keep chaos from breaking out in the capital, they [N O V E L I G H T] had even pulled personnel from all over, despite the shortage of manpower elsewhere, and stationed them in the city. Half a month ago, they had joined forces with the Church to sweep through the capital and purge the heretics hidden within.

That purge had yielded substantial results. Important intelligence had come from a certain major figure in the palace, allowing them to uproot many festering evils that had lurked in the capital for years, all without alarming ordinary people.

But only a few days had passed. The bodies of those heretics from before had barely gone cold, and now a new batch had already appeared?

Were they mushrooms?

Krete glanced at the cold drizzle outside the barred window and asked, “Has the intelligence been confirmed? This isn’t another urban rumor from some remote district, is it? Something a bunch of meddlesome gangsters deliberately spread until it turned into so-called ‘heretic activity’?”

“Probably not. The informant’s background is clean. He’s a gravekeeper from a cemetery. In his younger days he was actually clergy with the Church, but he was expelled after an incident. Since then there’s been no sign of any connection whatsoever to the gangs.”

“An exile from the Church, huh? So there are still people like that around. Fine. As long as he’s not mixed up with the rats among those criminals.”

At the mention of gangs, Krete’s expression clearly soured. It was not because he feared them. Rather, the chaos of the capital’s poor districts and the prevalence of gangs had, to a great extent, become fertile soil for certain “abnormalities” to take root, making their work far more difficult.

He had tried to change that state of affairs. But clearly, the Eye of the Saints did not have the manpower to watch the entire capital while also purging those countless rats tangled up in a web of interests and connections.

Besides, that was not even supposed to be within their scope of responsibility in the first place.

The person in the palace—extremely wary, in charge of handling matters related to Evil Gods, and deeply connected to the Church—refused to grant them authority over anything beyond that. If they overstepped, they would immediately be suppressed by that person.

Whenever moments like this came, Krete envied the Empire’s Silent Bureau beyond measure. Though it was likewise responsible only for matters involving Evil Gods, unlike them—bound on all sides—the Empire’s Silent Bureau held the highest decision-making authority in anything touching such incidents...

Power of that sort, in a sense, ranked second only to the Emperor himself.

That was why, even though it did not involve itself in ordinary affairs of state, many still liked to treat the Swordbearer of the Silent Bureau as the Empire’s second most important figure.

As for the head of the Eye of the Saints... who cared? Just another nobody not even important enough to sit at the table when the great figures held a banquet.

But that could not be helped. In the end, the Empire was too independent. It had no need to rely on the Church and deeply hated Church encroachment, which was why it had single-handedly built up the Silent Bureau into such a vast apparatus of violence.

The Kingdom, however, was a nation with an enormous base of believers in the Life Goddess.

Churches were everywhere. Faith in the goddess ran deep in the hearts of most of the people, and the Church often stepped in to purge abnormalities itself... so this seemingly awe-inspiring organization for handling special incidents was, in some sense, nothing more than a subsidiary of the Church.

But even a subsidiary had its dignity.

“Then get moving at once.”

Krete picked up a black dagger from the desk and slid it into his boot, then briskly began checking one piece of personal equipment after another.

“We’re already inconspicuous enough as it is. Let’s not have people saying we’re slow on top of that.”

“Yes, sir!”

The man outside hurried off. Barely a dozen seconds later, the underground facility—which had been silent and still—began to stir awake.

Trained personnel moved quickly back and forth. Heavy doors swung open. Files containing the relevant intelligence were delivered to Krete one after another in an astonishingly short time.

To be fair, this level of efficiency was rare among the Kingdom’s various bureaucratic organizations.

But Krete had no time to feel smug about that. Even as he considered the operational plan for this incident, he stepped out of his room and strode toward the assembly point.

Judging by the intelligence, this was most likely just a rare case of consecutive corpse-ghoulification. It should not require much effort to resolve. As for the informant’s claim about unfamiliar corpses, that was probably nothing more than—

“Mr. Krete.”

Someone called out to him.

Krete stopped and turned toward the speaker. It was a nun from the Church, dressed in her habit, pretty of face and gentle in bearing. Every movement she made gave off the warmth of a spring breeze, utterly free of arrogance.

But Krete did not dare slight her. He bowed his head respectfully in greeting.

“So it’s you, Great Sister Edeline. It’s so late—haven’t you gone to bed yet?”

There was not a flaw in Krete’s manner. This was not because he particularly respected clergy, but because the woman before him was a new Great Sister the Church had sent specifically to help them purge heretics. Whether in strength or status, she stood faintly above him, the head of this branch of the Eye of the Saints.

Fortunately, as a nun of the Church, Great Sister Edeline was indifferent to fame and power. She had shown no intention of taking over the branch by relying on her identity or strength, and she remained perfectly courteous toward Krete.

“I had already gone to sleep just now.”

Sister Edeline smiled and inclined her head in return. “But seeing all of you so busy, how could I bear to stay wrapped up in a warm bed? Naturally, I too would like to contribute what little strength I can.”

“You’re very kind, Great Sister, but tonight’s matter is only a minor one. It likely won’t require your personal involvement.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. It’s just that a gravekeeper reported signs of heretical activity in his cemetery. But according to our preliminary judgment, it is likely nothing more than a misjudgment caused by fright after encountering an abnormal event.”

Krete flipped through the file in his hand. “Something this small will probably be resolved very quickly. It truly isn’t worth disturbing you over.”

“I see...”

Sister Edeline nodded. “Very well, then. Go and return quickly, Mr. Krete. I won’t keep you any longer.”

“We’re the ones who disturbed your sleep, Great Sister.”

After this round of courteous back-and-forth, Krete turned to leave. But before he had gone far, Sister Edeline called after him again.

“By the way, may I trouble you with one more question? What exactly happened that made a gravekeeper wrongly believe there were signs of heretical activity in his cemetery? By common sense, a gravekeeper shouldn’t frighten so easily.”

“Ordinarily, no.”

Krete patiently explained, “But a consecutive case of corpse-ghoulification is indeed very rare. Even an experienced gravekeeper might have difficulty dealing with it. That’s perfectly normal. As for the other phenomenon he mentioned in the report—the sudden appearance of unfamiliar corpses in the cemetery...

“Our estimate is that the gravekeeper has been drinking too heavily for too long, causing some memory decline, and that he simply forgot bodies he himself had buried. According to the report, he has a long history of alcoholism.”

“I see. That does sound like nothing worth mentioning.”

[So it really has started springing large-scale leaks, after all?]

[It needs to be dealt with quickly.]

Sister Edeline brushed aside the hair at her forehead. The movement was slow and delicate, her arm passing inch by inch across her face like a shadow moving with the light, briefly covering those beautiful, gentle eyes.

The shadow passed. The beauty and gentleness remained unchanged, without the slightest difference.

“I think I’ll go with you after all.”

“Hm?”

Krete froze.

“But why? Didn’t I already say it’s only a minor matter—”

“Small though it may be, I imagine...”

Sister Edeline clasped her hands together, her expression incomparably holy and compassionate.

“That poor old gravekeeper, so badly frightened, must be in great need of the goddess’s comfort.”