Chapter 13: Who evaluates the examiners? Part 3

Silence.

A suffocating stillness pressed down on the Saintess and me.

“Please answer me, Central Officer.”

Just moments ago, we had been enjoying a friendly conversation.

Now she stared at me with icy eyes.

The golden halo that once shone like the sun darkened and began to waver.

But I said nothing.

No—I couldn’t say anything.

I had just heard something so shocking that my thoughts were tangled up.

—”Don’t get involved, Mohaim. That’s an order.”

The name belonged to the Holy Knight standing behind Erjena, his expression heavy.

‘Mohaim Espirence.’

I shifted my gaze to the elderly knight with the large scar over one eye.

Only then did I realize who he was.

Commander of the First Holy Knights of the Divine Order.

Even someone like me, with no interest in religion, had heard the name.

‘Why is that monster—who only appears during wartime—here now?’

The First Holy Knights were also known as “The Blade’s Resolute Edge.”

They were famous for never taking external action unless it concerned major matters of the Church.

Only for heretic exterminations, internal purges, or holy wars.

It was widely known that during the Southern Great Crusade just over a decade ago, they achieved what could only be described as a one-sided massacre.

‘And now the commander of such an order is on a pilgrimage group?’

The feeling that something was off grew stronger.

The Church didn’t expose them to the public lightly.

Their name carried too much symbolic weight.

To send the First Holy Knights was as good as declaring death.

And yet here they were, lined up behind Mohaim—as if the entire order was present.

Living weapons of war, said to be protecting pilgrims en route to the sacred site in the north.

The situation was completely contradictory.

Their presence clashed so sharply with their terrifying reputation.

I looked back at the Saintess.

‘Still… it’s not completely nonsensical.’

Mohaim was one of the strongest knights in the Church.

It wasn’t strange to assign someone of his strength to protect someone as important as the Saintess.

Having “The Blade’s Resolute Edge” as an escort meant that this pilgrimage group essentially represented the Church itself.

A declaration of absolute protection.

That must be it.

‘No need to overthink it.’

I let go of my doubts.

The Church had simply taken every precaution for safety.

The world had grown far too dangerous lately—they probably just assigned this many people out of caution.

I shook my head, trying to convince myself.

Then the Saintess slammed her hand on the desk.

“Central Officer.”

“Ah, yes.”

“I believe I’ve given you plenty of time to think.”

‘Oh, right.’

‘I still hadn’t answered.’

I had gotten so lost in thought that I’d gone silent for what could easily be considered rude.

I quickly corrected my posture.

“My apologies. It’s just… not a question I can answer lightly.”

I looked at her face for a moment, then slowly opened my mouth.

“Would it be alright if I asked what meaning lies behind that question?”

“I simply want to hear your answer. As someone responsible for our nation’s borders, I imagine you’ve seen quite a lot.”

That was a lie.

One look at her expression told me.

Undeniable hostility.

I didn’t know what made her suddenly hate me this much, but something clearly had.

‘Why all of a sudden?’

A cold sweat formed on my back.

‘What did I do wrong?’

It didn’t make sense.

Just moments ago, she’d practically moaned when she found out I was the Central Officer, eyes gleaming, acting like she’d give me her liver and heart.

And now, after just a few questions, she looked at me like I was her mortal enemy.

‘I answered your questions well! What’s the problem now!?’

If someone asks you, “Are you competent?” in front of others, of course you say, “Oh no, not really.”

What kind of lunatic answers, “Heh, I’m awesome”?

Especially in a formal setting.

As for whether I subdued the Fire Spirit barehanded… sure, it was thanks to the stone inn voucher and some quality charcoal, but technically, I did use my hands.

‘I didn’t lie.’

So I’d given her no reason to hold anything against me—or so I believed.

‘Then what the hell is this?’

At that moment, a flash of insight passed through my mind.

‘Wait… is she trying to convert me?’

From the Saintess’s point of view, the Crossroads Kingdom was a melting pot of races, cultures, and religions.

The perfect place for the Church to expand its influence.

Unlike the southern regions of the continent, the Church didn’t have much power here.

‘And since I don’t look like a devoted follower, she must have decided to target me first!’

It all made sense now.

To her, I looked like a lost sheep.

And that piercing gaze—

‘It wasn’t hostility.’

‘It was the look of a shepherd who’d just found an unclaimed lamb.’

‘I was an immigration officer. ‘

‘I oversaw the borders of an entire nation.’

‘If she could convert someone like me, it would make future missions here much easier for the Church.’

That gaze wasn’t hatred.

It was opportunity.

‘She really didn’t become Saintess for nothing.’

I was impressed.

Even after a long and tiring pilgrimage, even during an official entry screening, She’d spotted an opening and went straight for it.

She didn’t ask outright.

She lowered my guard with idle gossip and then slipped the real question in like a dagger.

‘More than strange—she’s cunning.’

Fervent faith fused with crafty tactics.

Even I, who had been through countless incidents, barely caught on to her ploy.

She was a frightening woman.

***

“Central Officer, silence is not an answer.”

As I stayed quiet, she pressed again.

“You were asked whether or not you believe in God.”

If she was repeating the question like this, her intent to convert me was rock solid.

If I said, “No,” she would probably hound me until I confessed to “believing in the Lord.”

Look at those eyes.

They said she wasn’t going to let go once she latched on.

No vague response would get me out of this.

I had to give a definitive answer.

Luckily, I had the perfect one.

“To be honest, yes. I do believe.”

I gave her a firm answer.

Her golden eyes lit up with certainty.

“In that case, you—”

But I wasn’t finished.

“—However, it’s not the god of the Divine Order.”

“What did you say?”

The perfect way to reject aggressive evangelism.

The ultimate reply that even the most persistent street missionaries couldn’t counter.

“I already follow a religion.”

Trying to recruit someone who already has a faith was something even the Church forbade.

If they didn’t, all the religions would be at war over each other’s believers.

That was a universal agreement across all religious institutions.

Her eyes narrowed.

“I see… Would you mind telling me which god you follow?”

I put on my best apologetic expression as I replied.

“Apologies, but I must remain silent on that question.”

In the Kingdom of Crossroads, there is a duty of confidentiality.

An immigration officer must always remain neutral—politically, religiously, and culturally.

It’s a duty established to prevent any discrimination based on ideology or beliefs of those crossing the border.

And here, if I were to carelessly voice my personal opinion, there’s a good chance it could be taken as the stance of the Kingdom of Crossroads itself.

One way or another, I’m still an immigration officer—the very first impression of our country.

The only thing I’m permitted to share is whether I believe in a god.

Nothing beyond that.

“Even when it’s the Saintess of the Holy Order asking you?”

If anything, that makes it even more necessary for me to hold my tongue.

All I can say is this:

“I’m sorry.”

No further comment.

“As an immigration officer, I cannot answer a question that would violate my oath.”

If you have a complaint, feel free to take it up with Crossroads Kingdom’s legal code.

Her frown deepened, clearly annoyed by my unwavering tone.

“I see… So you do believe in a god, but won’t say who it is…”

Honestly, I do have a being I wholeheartedly believe in.

Its name is none other than ‘No Accidents.’

‘That divine one is always truthful and never fails to reward my efforts.’

Even provides bonuses and paid vacations.

‘If that’s not a god, what is?’

‘Oh, beloved Lord of 297 Days Accident-Free.’

‘Your name alone is a thing of divine beauty.’

‘Please continue to bless our immigration office with performance bonuses and generous leave.’

Seeing my face turn reverent in real-time, she let out a hollow laugh.

“You’re not even trying to hide it anymore, are you, Officer? I expected you to dodge until the end.”

“How could I lie before the voice of the Lord Himself—the Saintess of the Holy Order?”

I even threw in a bit of polite flattery to smooth things over.

“Thank you for respecting my faith. I, too, wish only grace and glory upon the Holy Order.”

‘Ah… even I have to admit that was a perfect answer.’

‘Maybe I should’ve been a diplomat.’

“You… You’re shameless beyond belief…”

‘Then why is the Saintess grimacing like that?’

“If it weren’t for my promise with Moheim, I’d have you—”

She spoke as if spitting out the words, but just in time, salvation arrived.

“Officer, sorry for the delay. Here’s the stamp.”

“My apologies.”

“Ah, just in time. Perfect. Hand it over, please.”

A rather useless attendant who I’ve no idea where he’d wandered off to.

I quickly took the stamp from him and said in a cheerful voice, “Thank you for waiting, Saintess. It seems our meeting is finally coming to an end.”

“…Don’t assume this is over, Officer.”

‘What is her problem, seriously?’

Let’s just stamp [ENTRY PERMITTED] and send her off.

I’m about to die from the tension here.

Annoying someone high-ranking won’t bring me anything good.

But the attendant had brought more than just the stamp.

“Officer, please review this as well.”

He handed me a thick stack of documents.

“What is this?”

“A cargo manifest.”

“And why are you giving this to me…?”

I’m in charge of processing people, not cargo.

This is something for the Tactile or Gustatory Officers to handle.

The attendant replied, “The Tactile Officer asked me to pass it directly to you just now.”

“Hmm. Alright then. But let’s first finish the Saintess’s entry process.”

VIPs take priority.

This can wait—easily resolved later.

I pushed the documents to the side and turned back to face her.

The Saintess glared at me with that ever-hostile expression as I said, “Saintess, welcome to the Kingdom of Crossroads.”

I moved to stamp the document.

Just as I was about to—

Whoosh. Flap, flap.

A gust of wind blew through the slightly opened gates and scattered several pages of the document stack.

‘Maybe it was because of that, but my eyes were drawn to the papers.’

Soon, hundreds—thousands—of item names filled my vision, packed tightly on the sheets.

“Ugh. That’s awful.”

Just looking at it was dizzying.

I moved to close it—

But something caught my eye.

“Hmm?”

Several entries were circled in red ink.

I quickly scanned them.

‘Wait a second. These red circles… They’re all weapons and military gear.’

All sorts of arms, tools of war, and medical supplies.

The problem was, nearly every sheet was covered in red circles.

And in the corner of the last document, a scribbled message appeared as if written in haste:

[Number of weapon-related items: 12,910. Way too many! This is suspicious!!!]

[Some supply wagons are sealed! Claimed to be carrying holy relics, but we hear metal clanking inside!!]

The underlining was so frantic and repeated that it was clearly written by the Tactile Officer.

‘What… Why are there so many? What’s with the sealed wagons?’

I quickly reviewed the current situation in my head.

The pilgrimage group has 3,374 members.

Among them, about 400 are from the Holy Knights.

The rest are civilians, merchants, and spectators.

Yet, the number of weapons exceeds ten thousand.

‘That doesn’t make sense.’

It’s far too much.

‘Three times more gear than people?’

Suddenly, the thoughts that had been nagging at me all along began to resurface.

‘An unusual pilgrimage by the Saintess.

The presence of the First Order of Holy Knights.

An excessive amount of supplies and arms.’

Taken individually, none of it raises suspicion.

The pilgrimage could be out of altruism or adventurous spirit.

The knights are likely for protection.

The supplies could be for the northern brothers, who live in harsh, hostile lands.

All plausible explanations.

But when viewed together…

‘The Holy Order’s strongest knights are accompanying the Saintess north—along with an overwhelming amount of war material.’

The meaning changes entirely.

I quietly closed the document.

Then, in a lowered voice, I said, “This is no pilgrimage.”

Both their faces went stiff.

Slowly, I set the stamp down.

“Before you enter, Saintess, I have one final question for you.”

Erjena said nothing.

She only clenched her fists so tightly her knuckles went white, glaring daggers at me.

I met her gaze head-on and reached not for the stamp, but the hourglass beside it.

“It’s a simple question.”

Five minutes.

That was all it would’ve taken to finish this smoothly.

An entry process that could have ended without issue—

Now, I rewind it.

“What is your true purpose for traveling north?”

The sand began to fall again.