Chapter 405

The culprit?

That was the only thing on Savelli’s mind. France stubbornly denying to the bitter end that it had stolen Austria-Hungary’s parure, Austria-Hungary’s ambitions to swallow up more territory, even the fact that he hadn’t so much as greeted the fourth in line to the German throne sitting beside him—all of it seemed to have been pushed aside. The only thing he cared about now was the one who had stolen the holy relics.

I watched him for a moment, then let out a slow breath.

“That’s classified.”

“…Pardon?”

“I said it’s confidential.”

Savelli shot to his feet, waving his hands as he looked around at us.

“N-No, Your Eminence. You have to tell me. Otherwise, how am I supposed to decide where—and how many—of our clergy to deploy?”

Narke stared intently at me. He had remained silent no matter what I’d told the Archbishop of Trier Cathedral. We both remembered how awkward that exchange had been. He knew there were things in my words that weren’t true, and I knew he’d noticed. Even so, that was fine.

“Lord Savelli, and Cardinal Farnese. Since you’ve both served in the Papal See and know it well, let me ask you something. The letter Lord Savelli is sending—who is it actually addressed to?”

Narke answered first.

“His Holiness. The first office to receive it is the Congregatio pro negotiis ecclesiasticis extraordinariis.”

“Indeed. It goes to the Foreign Office.”

Savelli translated Narke’s words into simpler terms and looked at me. Silence settled over the room. It was time to tell him what the letter would contain—the identity of the thief. Savelli looked tense, still unconvinced by what I’d said so far. Narke, on the other hand, watched me with his usual unreadable expression. I met both their eyes and spoke.

“‘Extreme threat. Further details cannot be disclosed.’”

“…….”

“Send that to the Foreign Office. That’s my answer.”

Savelli blinked in disbelief, then hurriedly turned to Narke.

“Cardinal Farnese.”

“My stance is the same as Lord Ernst’s.”

“…No—!”

“What exactly is the problem?”

At Narke’s sharp question, Savelli remained standing. His gaze flicked between the two of us before settling on me, his expression tight with concern.

“Your Eminence. The letter I am sending to the Papal See’s Foreign Office right now represents the official stance of you two, who have taken charge of this incident. Can you take responsibility for the words you just uttered?”

“Responsibility, you say. Of course I would gladly do so, but I said nothing that warrants such a reaction. What on earth are you imagining? The letter will simply read, ‘Extreme threat. Further details cannot be disclosed.’”

“…….”

Savelli’s brow furrowed. Instead of addressing his unspoken objection, I pressed on.

“Send it to the Vatican immediately. The Foreign Minister will be waiting.”

“Peace be with you.”

“And also with you.”

As the Archbishop of Trier walked past, Simone Savelli returned the greeting in a hollow voice before turning back to me. We were standing inside the Vatican-operated post office set up in one of Trier Cathedral’s buildings. The carved wooden sign bore the Vatican’s name. It had only recently become a Vatican post office, but the building itself had been in use for much longer. The wooden beams supporting the ceiling and walls showed their age. That was enough observation. What mattered was that Savelli had grabbed me by the shoulder.

“The more I think about it, the less I can accept this.”

“What exactly can’t you accept, Lord Savelli?”

“We cannot send the letter like this!”

I screwed the cap back onto the ink bottle and took the black quill from his hand. On the Vatican stationery he’d brought, the exact words I’d recited earlier had already been written in neat handwriting. Pointing at it, I smiled.

“But you’ve already written it. Extreme threat. Further details cannot be disclosed. Even I can read that much.”

“But that’s exactly the problem…!”

“Even Cardinal Farnese, whom you hold in such high regard, said the exact same thing as me. Are you doubting him?”

“He said he agreed with you—not that he said the exact same thing~?”

“Close enough. Besides, I only said two sentences. If the details can’t be disclosed, what’s the issue?”

I took the letter, blew gently to dry the ink, folded it, and slipped it into a black envelope. Savelli could only stare at it blankly. I pressed the envelope against his chest and continued, “If you don’t want to send it, then don’t. But my stance won’t change.”

“…….”

“And sooner or later, you’ll have to convey our stance to the Vatican.”

“Ha…”

Savelli wet his lips with his tongue and swallowed. Then he pulled out a Vatican-issued postage stamp from inside his jacket. He scooped a bit of glue from a small tin and spread it on the back before pressing it onto the envelope. Divine power flowed from the stamp—an artifact in its own right—and once it adhered to the letter, a strange current of mana began to spread through the envelope. All that remained was to hand it to the priest at the postal counter.

With obvious reluctance, Savelli extended it through the window.

“…It is done.”

“This is being sent to the Papal See, correct?”

“Yes.”

Savelli replied in a grim voice. The priest nodded, opened the drawer behind the counter, placed the letter inside, and shut it.

Creak—clack.

A moment later, the drawer opened again with another creak, and the priest handed over a golden receipt stamped with the date and the seal of the Roman Curia.

“The Papal See has received it directly. This receipt will remain in Trier.”

“Ugh…”

I actually sent it…—Savelli groaned, clutching his head. Smiling, I leaned toward the priest behind the counter.

“Brother. That will be the last letter headed to the Papal See. Cardinal Farnese has already made that clear. If this gentleman comes back later claiming he needs to send another one, you are to refuse him outright.”

“Excuse me? Your Eminence, you are infringing on my discretion—”

Before Savelli could finish protesting, I rested a hand on his shoulder and pressed down slightly.

“Understood?”

“Y-Yes. I will inform the priest taking the next shift as well.”

I gave the awkwardly smiling priest a nod, then turned away with Savelli in tow. After I’d led him a few steps into the courtyard of Trier, he finally spoke.

“Lord Ernst, you’re stronger than I expected.”

“What were you expecting?”

“You’re so skinny I figured you’d be light as paper.”

“Hmm.”

Keeping pace with me, he suddenly shook off my hand and stopped me.

“This isn’t the time for this! Your Eminence’s words are essentially this, aren’t they? That there is someone among us who loves Caesar, but loves Rome even more?”

“You’re referring to Brutus¹. That’s right. Is there something wrong with that?”

Savelli looked ready to answer immediately, but I spoke first.

“Lord Savelli, you came here to solve the theft of the Holy Nail, didn’t you? Can this case really be separated from the True Cross—the stolen Lignum Crucis?”

“…….”

“The Österreich-Este Sapphire Parure, the True Cross that had been kept in the Vatican, and the Holy Nail of Trier Cathedral all disappeared at roughly the same time. Of course, in the case of the True Cross, I’m referring to the time it disappeared from the Vatican. Correct? And I assume you’re well acquainted with the route the True Cross took. Why don’t you walk me through it?”

Realizing where I was going with this, Savelli’s eyes widened for a brief moment. Then he answered with a wary look.

“…The Lignum Crucis, which had been kept at the Monastery of Santo Toribio de Liébana in Spain, somehow turned up in the Vatican. As soon as the Papal See discovered it, they placed it in the safest possible location while preparing to return it to Spain. But before that could happen, it was stolen at the same time as the Holy Nail. The last trace of the security spell placed on it was detected at a checkpoint on the route from Italy into Germany. That’s all.”

He finished while staring at me as if he already knew what I was about to say. I gave him the predictable answer he had been expecting.

“Thank you. Then let me ask you this. How, and for what reason, was the Lignum Crucis, which should have been in a Spanish monastery, in the Vatican?”

“We don’t know either! You’re not seriously suggesting that makes the Papal See responsible for the theft of the Holy Nail, are you?”

He let out a disbelieving laugh. Before I could even finish waving the idea aside with a shake of my head, he pressed on.

“That’s far too hasty. I understand why someone might suspect it, but on that day, not a single member of the Papal See crossed the checkpoint from Italy into Germany. Looking back even further, no one traveled from Spain to the Vatican either. Do you think no one considered that possibility? The Papal See, unlike any other organization, is built for investigation. There can be no such thing as an absolute secret within it.”

“I kn—”

“What you’re saying, Lord Ernst, is that the person who picked up a lost wallet and tried to return it to its owner was actually the one who stole it. Even though the wallet had clearly been stolen by someone else before it ever reached that Good Samaritan. You said yourself this should be an easy case to solve. Precisely because of that, we investigated every possibility to protect the Papal See’s reputation. And now you’re overturning all of that based on speculation alone? Do you really think it’s reasonable to judge the Papal See like this?”

“It is not the Papal See.”

I answered coldly. There wasn’t a trace left of the playful attitude Savelli had shown the night before. He stared back at me with open irritation. As long as Narke and I didn’t change our stance, there was nothing a mere messenger like him could do to alter how this case unfolded. He had sent the letter exactly as I instructed, but he was making it very clear that he still couldn’t agree with me.

I looked at him quietly before speaking.

“Watch your words, Lord Savelli. What Lord Farnese and I are saying is that there is someone within the Papal See who accepted thirty pieces of silver².”

“The very suggestion that the Papal See harbors such a person is an insult, Lord Ernst.”

Savelli stepped closer, his tone almost threatening. A faint smile lingered on his lips, but it was cold. I met his gaze without flinching and answered, “I am well aware of the infallibility of the Supreme Pontiff. But following that logic, how is it that Christ came to take Judas Iscariot as a disciple? Was it because He was incompetent?”

“…….”

“I’m not saying the Papal See is incompetent because there’s someone inside it who stole the relic. Are you so unsettled because, unlike Christ—who knew Judas would betray Him—the Papal See failed to realize it had a relic thief within its own ranks?”

I watched Savelli’s eyelids twitch ever so slightly, never once breaking eye contact as I continued.

“In that case, there’s no need to worry. The one who identified the culprit is also a member of the Vatican. The Papal See is fully capable of recognizing that it has a relic thief in its own ranks—and dealing with the matter directly.”

Savelli’s eyes flicked to the surplice draped over my shoulders, then to the Roman collar beneath it. I had met him in Germany, but I belonged to the Vatican. I wasn’t attached to any German diocese, just as Farnese wasn’t. He couldn’t afford to forget that.

His hand kept drifting toward his chest, as though he wanted to fidget with the stamp tucked inside his jacket. It was probably an unconscious habit. I caught his hand and lowered it.

“No more letters.”

“…….”

“Loving Rome. Thirty pieces of silver. None of that is part of our official stance. Understood? The only message Cardinal Farnese and I are sending to the Papal See is the one already put into writing—that first letter, and nothing else. Unless your goal is to ruin this investigation, don’t send any more letters. Just wait.”

Simone Savelli, having completely dropped the smug attitude he’d worn the night before, rubbed his forehead before speaking quietly.

“Then at least the accomplices… the French imperial family. I’ve heard they’re little more than puppet rulers. Wasn’t it the mage organization backing them that ordered the theft of the relic? The parure was stolen at the same time, wasn’t it?”

I shook my head.

“Does that matter right now? I agree they’re probably involved. But bringing them up at this stage only muddies the waters. And there’s another question we need to answer. Who’s the mastermind? Who actually used the relic for personal gain? Which side merely assisted, and which side had the true malicious intent?”

“That’s exactly my point! Isn’t the organization behind the French imperial family the one that used the relic? The one inside the Papal See merely helped—”

I answered with nothing but a slow sigh. Simone trailed off on his own before continuing in a weary voice.

“…You’re saying the one who stole the relics to use them directly for illicit purposes is inside the Papal See.”

“Don’t send letters based on your own interpretation.”

“I’m asking if that’s what you mean.”

“The weather’s nice today. Care to take a walk?”

Simone Savelli laughed, half in disbelief and half in resignation. Just then, I spotted Narke approaching from the distance. There clearly wasn’t going to be any time for a walk.

“Top secret~ Wow.”

Elias muttered as he rested his cheek on the table and leaned back in his chair. A few nearby clergymen glanced his way. It was dinnertime, though most of them had already finished eating and left the hall. After putting up a soundproofing spell, Elias looked between Narke and me with a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“So that means I’m in on the classified information too. See? Following Narke here was worth it. I even got to hear state secrets.”

“All we said was that we couldn’t disclose the details.”

“Exactly! ‘Extreme threat. Further details cannot be disclosed.’ That alone tells you plenty.”

Narke gently set down his spoon.

“You’re quick as always, Elias.”

Elias was about to grin before suddenly remembering something. He quickly shook his head and thrust the back of his hand toward me. A dark blue bruise had spread across it.

“Look at this! Narke hit me yesterday and burst a blood vessel! Can a cardinal seriously do that?!”

“What?”

I stared at Narke in disbelief. He gave me an awkward smile.

“Ah… Elias kept losing at our game… I wasn’t trying to burst it on purpose. Why would I intentionally do that?”

“…You can tell with your Insight whether it’s about to burst.”

“I don’t normally use it for things like that~”

Elias slapped the table with his palm and smirked.

“That’s exactly when you should use it. I have to visit Leo’s mother today. Leo’s hopeless at healing magic.”

“Haha. You’re stuck in Trier. Where exactly are you planning to go?”

“Then you heal me!”

“Hmm. Divine power should help regenerate the blood vessels too. Alright.”

There was way too much pointless chatter. I glanced around, thinking it was about time to get up. Right then, a familiar face entered the dining hall looking thoroughly worn out. The moment Simone Savelli spotted me, he pointed a finger in my direction and hurried over.

“What is the matter?”

“His Excellency the Foreign Minister is demanding an immediate reply. He’s figured it out too! What ‘Extreme threat. Further details cannot be disclosed.’ really implies! Who wouldn’t? It means someone who can’t be allowed to know is mixed in with them, so you can’t explain the details and can only warn everyone to be careful, doesn’t it?!”

“That’s good to hear. At least the perceptive ones figured it out.”

I took a sip of my digestif before answering Savelli, who stood there with a pained expression.

“Even if it’s the Foreign Minister, I won’t be sending a reply. Don’t answer him. I’ve been checking in with the post office regularly, so don’t even think about pulling anything.”

“You’re refusing to answer the Foreign Minister?”

Savelli let out a disbelieving laugh and looked at Narke. As expected, Narke simply returned the look without a word.

“Please reconsider. I’m saying this to both of you, Your Eminences. The Foreign Minister is a cardinal just like you. Wouldn’t it be better to keep things cordial instead of damaging your relationship by refusing to answer? Besides, after dropping a bombshell like this on the Papal See over a theft case that could easily spiral into a diplomatic incident, you can’t simply stay silent.”

“If you were in our shoes, would you not stay silent?”

“I’d have to do as I was told.”

“Then you’ve come to the right place. We’re a group that does the opposite of what’s expected. Consider this a chance to learn a new way of doing your job.”

“Are you trying to get yourself dismissed?”

“Don’t you want to recover the relic?”

Savelli stared at me like I’d lost my mind. It was oddly irritating getting that look from someone who usually acted so easygoing. Though, from his perspective, I probably looked just as ridiculous. Clicking my tongue, I laced my fingers together and said, “Let me give you a little psychological test. An enemy is watching us from outside the window. The curtains are open as usual, so they have a clear view inside. Of course, that means we can see them as well. What would you do?”

“Close the curtains, obviously!”

“Right. If it were me, I wouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Why? Because that’s as far as we go. Cardinal Farnese agrees with me, so I’d appreciate it if you’d follow my lead.”

“Haa…”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Savelli let out a long sigh. Then he smiled faintly.

“Lord Ernst, I have to say, I like the way you talk.”

“Thank you.”

“Why do you always respond with ‘thank you’? That one was a bit disappointing.”

“Well then, you’ve worked hard enough chasing replies around. Why don’t you go have dinner now, Lord Savelli?”

I pushed my plate aside and got to my feet. Then a question suddenly occurred to me, and I turned back.

“There’s something I’d like to ask.”

“What is it?”

“The holy relics. Do they possess any abilities?”

Both Elias and Savelli tilted their heads in confusion, so I elaborated.

“You know what I mean. Like how some people claim quartz absorbs cosmic energy, or that certain stones have special properties. Could holy relics have something like that as well?”

“…Perhaps. It’s a rather fanciful idea, though. And even if they did, wouldn’t it just be a matter of luck? How would anyone verify something like that?”

“Fair enough. Enjoy your dinner.”

I nodded in farewell. Leaving Savelli behind with that faint, unreadable smile still on his face, I walked out of the dining hall.

[By now, the Papal See must be in complete disarray. We need to give them some kind of explanation.]

The gardens of Trier.

It was an hour before midnight. The moon was brighter than I’d expected, making it easy enough to read even in the dark. I crumpled the note and slipped it into my pocket before looking up at the sky. A carrier pigeon circled overhead. When I raised my arm, it fluttered down and landed on it. I untied the long strip of paper fastened to its leg.

[Cardinal Ernst.]

Flap—

With news of the summit finally published, I’d spent the entire day exchanging messages with countless people. Every carrier pigeon arriving here came from another cathedral, this cathedral, or the Bavarian royal family and government. And ninety-nine percent of them came from the same person.

As I read one message, another snow-white pigeon circled overhead.

[Your Eminence. Are you reading these?]

[Two more letters have arrived from the Papal See, each from a different person.]

[The fact that they’re contacting us this frequently means the situation has already become difficult. What are you going to do?]

‘This guy, seriously.’

It was as if Simone Savelli had decided to use every carrier pigeon in Trier. Instead of writing one letter, he’d broken it up into a dozen short messages. I shook my head at the sight of white pigeons filling the night sky. Leaning against the railing, I unfolded whichever note happened to land in my hand and fell into thought.

Earlier, I’d said that someone had imbued the holy relic with an ability.

Soul. Remote. Those were the two keywords.

It was an absurd ability—one that made you wonder what anyone could possibly use it for, or who would even think to create something like it. Still, it wasn’t impossible that a specific ability had been infused into the holy relic.

After all, the mage organization backing the French imperial family might have absorbed the techniques of l’Éclat Littéraire, the eighteenth-century occult society of France’s Old Human nobility. There was no guarantee they hadn’t developed something that bizarre.

‘But here’s the real question. Why did it have to be a holy relic? Why the True Cross?’

The Vatican has plenty of other valuable relics. In that sense, the Archbishop of Trier’s demonstration of using holy relics as catalysts for magic had actually helped me. Just not in the way he intended.

Saint Helena’s skull. Countless items and remains of the late Popes stored in the Vatican vaults. Holy relics consecrated by the current Pope. Didn’t they all possess divine power? Just as the Archbishop of Trier had demonstrated. They were excellent tools for amplifying magic with greater precision. So why didn’t the culprit use those relics instead?

Why did it have to be the Lignum Crucis brought all the way from Spain? Why did it have to be the Holy Nail of Trier Cathedral? Why go through the trouble and risk of stealing two separate relics from Spain and Germany, overcoming the distance, security, and countless obstacles?

Once you start from that fundamental question, your reasoning naturally arrives at a single conclusion.

The culprit didn’t choose the Holy Nail of Trier and the Lignum Crucis from the Monastery of Santo Toribio de Liébana simply because they were holy relics that would multiply the effect of an ability.

They chose them because those relics possessed abilities unique to themselves.

Flap—whoosh.

The sound of wings drifted close to my ears.

In other words, the ability we’d been theorizing about was probably not something infused into the Holy Nail. It was far more likely that the Holy Nail already possessed that ability on its own. Now we knew what we had to do. We needed to narrow down the people who could have known everything about these relics from Spain and Germany on the international stage.

I had two prime suspects: The French imperial family—or the Vatican.

I looked up at the sky. Among the countless white carrier pigeons perched on rooftops and railings or circling overhead, one had a blue ribbon tied to its leg. A Bavarian royal carrier pigeon. I untied the ribbon and read the message.

[To His Excellency Nikolaus Ernst.

A letter has arrived for His Highness Emanuel Wittelsbach. At his request, I am forwarding the original for your review.]

As expected, the ribbon was from the royal family, and the handwriting belonged to a friend—and superior—I knew well.

Now then, back to the matter at hand. From here on, it’s a game of probabilities. Which of the two suspected organizations would know what the Arma Christi are capable of? Which one?

The more likely answer would be the people who could examine the relics firsthand—the Vatican. That was why my first choice was the Papal See. There were a few other factors as well, but those could wait. In the end, only someone inside the Vatican could determine whether this gamble paid off—whether my deduction was actually correct. The Vatican had already been thrown into confusion by the two-sentence reply sent from Germany. I’d made the first move. Now I was waiting for the reaction.

If they really responded… That would mean I’d chosen correctly.

I raised my arm toward another carrier pigeon flying in. As soon as I untied the blue ribbon from its leg, it transformed into an envelope. Written in plain black ink on the white envelope were the recipient and sender.

[To His Highness Duke Emanuel Wittelsbach of Bavaria, from the Hermetische Gesellschaft.]

“…….”

I let out a low whistle, slipped the letter into my pocket with a smile, and walked away, leaving behind Savelli’s carrier pigeons still perched on the railing.

Translator Note

1. Referring to Marcus Junius Brutus in Roman history. Brutus joined the conspiracy to assassinate Julius Caesar in 44 BCE, placing loyalty to the Roman Republic above his personal relationship with Caesar. ↩︎
2. A reference to Judas Iscariot, who accepted thirty silver coins in exchange for betraying Jesus. ↩︎