The Door of Selection

At the High Priest's words, Richter said, "Your Grace, if you'll excuse me," and stepped away for a moment.

Flanked by several men on either side, the town master was brought up onto the stage.

He looked haggard and was dressed in tattered clothes, making for a sorry sight, but this was perfectly normal attire for a Commoner. His movements were somewhat unsteady, but from what I could see, there were no visible signs of beatings or kicks, so it seemed he hadn't been treated too badly over the winter.

He knelt before me, raised his face slightly, looked at me for just the briefest instant, then lowered his gaze.

In that fleeting moment, his eyes had an oddly feverish gleam. From his slightly narrowed eyes, I could feel an unmistakable sense of contempt. His gaze held a mocking disbelief—the sort that said a merciful young child could be twisted around easily.

...The old me wouldn't have noticed the contempt in the town master's eyes.

Having spent the past year navigating noble society, I'd learned to read the expressions of the ever-stoic High Priest and my adoptive mother, whose smiles never revealed her true feelings. It seemed I'd grown, at least a little. Realizing growth through something like this wasn't exactly a cause for celebration, but I was glad I hadn't let it pass unnoticed.

"High Priestess, I didn't know."

With his face still bowed, the town master let out an anguished voice and began defending himself. Launching into a lengthy explanation, he claimed he hadn't known that attacking the small temple constituted treason.

That was a lie. There was no way the town master didn't know. Richter had told me that when Fran reported the attack on the small temple to Lutz during the Harvest Festival, Lutz's face had changed color. There was no way the town master didn't know something that Richter, in his supporting role, was aware of. He'd only done it while Richter was absent because he intended to have the previous High Priest sweep it under the rug, and he knew it was "a bad idea."

I felt my brows drawing together without realizing it.

The High Priest, standing a half-step behind me, was probably making an even more menacing face. The tingling along my neck was no figment of my imagination.

"You keep saying you didn't know. What of it?"

The High Priest cut the town master's self-defense short with a blunt dismissal.

The town master looked upward, momentarily tongue-tied, then apparently decided I would be easier to approach than the High Priest, fixing his gaze on me. Without even glancing toward the High Priest, he heaped words upon me.

"High Priestess, merciful one who saved Hasse from its plight—everything I did was purely to protect the town! I am fully aware of my ignorance, but please, have mercy on my actions!"

The town master, after all, held a position of leadership over people, so he understood vocal projection and words that could move the common folk. The people in the square began pleading as well: "High Priestess, please, if you could show mercy!"

...This is bad.

I thought to myself. Ideally, I wanted to save the people of Hasse at the cost of the town master's sacrifice alone. If supporters of the town master multiplied, the number of people facing punishment would grow.

"You showed such compassion even to orphans!"

The town master launched into a tearful recounting of how I had taken pity on Hasse's orphans and shown them mercy, begging me to direct that same compassion toward him as well.

Richter, looking as though he wanted to say "Shut up already," shifted his body slightly toward the town master. I thought he was about to stop him, but Richter looked upward, went deathly pale, and withdrew his hand.

I suspect the High Priest had glared at him.

The next moment, someone lightly tapped my back with a fingertip. I turned quickly and looked up to find the High Priest's eyes burning with sharp, stern light, his mouth twisted into a thin smile. The silent pressure—"Hurry up and finish this"—bore down on me, and I forced my lips into a tight smile.

...Now then, what should I do?

I needed to maintain the saintly image I'd cultivated, while steering things toward the conclusion that punishing the town master was the only reasonable course of action.

I watched the town master for a while as he pleaded with gestures and expressions as well as words, then gently lowered my gaze.

"...Town master, you speak of my mercy, but you routinely subjected orphans to violence, didn't you? When I took them in, both Toril and Rick were covered in bruises."

Nora and Marthe, who had been slated for sale, were relatively well-nourished, but Toril and Rick were malnourished and bore the marks and bruises of daily violence all over their bodies.

When I asked, "Do I really need to show mercy to someone who uses violence against the weak?" the town master visibly panicked. Desperate to smooth things over and extract a concession from me, he piled word upon word.

"That was, well, discipline. If they didn't do anything wrong, I wouldn't do such things. If they do something wrong, they should be punished."

"I fail to understand what wrongs the orphans could have done that required discipline. ...For example, would it be considered wrong if Toril or Rick attacked your family?"

When I placed a hand on my cheek and tilted my head with deliberate gentleness, the town master nodded repeatedly, rubbing his hands together as if trying to coax a naive child.

He inched closer on his knees, and the feverish look in his eyes as he pleaded was somewhat frightening.

"That is clearly a wrong thing. If an orphan uses violence against my family, I would naturally be furious—what on earth do they think they're doing?—and punishing them with violence is entirely justified. No one would blame me, and I must make the orphans understand their position as dependents."

Behind the town master, Richter shut his eyes tightly and slumped his shoulders in defeat. The village heads kneeling around him wore bitter expressions as well.

I looked straight at the town master and asked my final question.

"What if I told you that they didn't know your family were the targets?"

"There's no way those two didn't know my family. Such a lie won't hold."

"...I see."

I slowly exhaled, murmured, "That's unfortunate," and turned to look up at the High Priest.

"High Priest, this is the town master's account."

The High Priest narrowed his eyes, the corners of his mouth lifting. "I see. I understand perfectly," he said, stepping forward to stand beside me.

With the High Priest taking a step forward, I stepped back, yielding the floor to him.

"So, by your own account, it is only natural for the Lord to punish those who attacked the small temple built for his daughter, the High Priestess. The white buildings are where the nobility dwell, created through the Lord's authority. No one can claim ignorance of this."

"No, I truly didn't know..."

The instant he realized he was dealing with the High Priest, the town master began retreating. His face had lost all color, and the eloquence he'd shown moments ago had vanished. He cast desperate glances toward me—I had stepped back a pace—but I gave no response.

The High Priest took a step forward, pressing the shrinking town master further.

"In the position of town master, where you are expected to interact with the nobility, there is no way you could be unaware. The only thing you didn't know was that the previous High Priest, who might have covered for you and smoothed things over, had died. You knew full well and had the townspeople attack the small temple."

The town master's eyes went wide in shock. "That's not..." he tried to slip away, but the people in the square who had been pleading for his mercy now wore cold expressions.

Perhaps to the people of Hasse, he had only ever said, "I didn't know."

"Well, whether you knew or not is irrelevant. What the people of Hasse did was an attack on the Lord's own family—treason. It warrants punishment, and no one will blame the Lord for ordering it. You must be taught that Commoners exist only by the grace of the nobility. Your own account confirms this."

"But..."

"Excuses built on lies are unbearable to listen to. Don't open your mouth again."

Sharp and final, the High Priest silenced any rebuttal. He turned on his heel and returned to my side. Then, still wearing that stern expression as he looked down at the town master, he turned his gaze upon me.

"Rosemine."

"Yes."

Sensing I was about to be scolded, I straightened my back and tucked in my chin.

The High Priest heaved a theatrical sigh, narrowing his eyes with an expression perfectly suited for the villain, and spoke in an icy tone.

"You petitioned the Lord for a reduced sentence for the people of Hasse, claiming they deeply reflected upon the gravity of their actions. ...Yet they don't seem to understand at all."

The High Priest's gaze swept from me to the town master, and finally across the entire square. Under the weight of his stare, everyone pressed their lips together and fell silent.

"Rosemine, do the people of Hasse truly need the mercy of the Holy One of Ehrenfest, who is you?"

The atmosphere was so charged that it felt as though the mitigation I had announced could be revoked at any moment. The square froze, falling utterly silent as if drenched in cold water.

What the High Priest would say next held everyone in a silence so heavy that no one dared even move.

In an atmosphere so oppressive that even breathing felt difficult, Richter slowly raised his heavy head.

"High Priestess, High Priest. If I may be permitted to speak..."

His voice trembled as he asked for permission, and his face was deathly pale. The sheen on his forehead was probably from nervous sweat. His hairline looked damp.

"You may."

"Thank you."

Richter bowed to acknowledge the High Priest's permission, then began.

"High Priest, the townspeople understand fully the gravity of what we were ordered to do and what we carried out. We are deeply grateful for the mercy of the Holy One who saved us from what could have been the destruction of our entire town. ...It is only the town master who didn't understand. The residents themselves understand perfectly."

Trembling under the High Priest's pressure, Richter nonetheless shielded the people of Hasse. I was deeply moved by this when I felt a firm push on my back.

I looked up at the High Priest, who stood beside me looking down at Richter with the same serious expression, and a look of exasperation—as if asking "What is your role?"—fell upon me.

...That's right. I'm the Holy One.

Now was not the time to be moved by Richter's words and actions. I spun around to face the High Priest, then quickly spread my arms wide as if shielding Richter from him.

"High Priest, Richter says the same. The townspeople understand."

"...High Priestess."

A voice of deep emotion rose from both Richter and the village heads behind me, as well as from the square.

The gazes of respect and admiration pricked at my conscience. It was unbearable. I wanted to scream "I can't play the part of a Holy One!" and flee the scene.

But I couldn't run away while facing the High Priest, who looked every bit like a demon king. This was my own task to overcome.

The High Priest slowly shook his head at me.

"Rosemine, kindness can at times become leniency. Pluck the seeds of rebellion early."

"High Priest, the people of Hasse have no thoughts of rebellion. It's all right. Isn't that so, everyone?"

I turned around and called out to Richter and the others behind me, as well as to those in the square. "Of course!" Richter's voice came immediately.

Voices of agreement rose from the square as well, swelling into a wave of sound.

"Everyone is saying the same thing. So please..."

The moment I tried to wrap things up neatly, the High Priest's eyes narrowed sharply.

"Then, let's have you prove it."

"Huh?"

...Excuse me. I can't read where this is going. What am I supposed to do?

Wondering what I should do while inwardly panicking, I looked up at the High Priest, who had produced his Stappe.

"At this juncture, I'll thoroughly pluck the seeds of rebellion."

So declaring, the High Priest murmured, "Gethilt," and swept his Stappe in a wide arc.

Just below the stage, in the foremost spot of the square, a translucent amber panel appeared.

...A Shezia shield?

It bore the same pattern as the Shezia shield I created through prayer.

However, while the ones I produced were circular, this one was a thin rectangle without any depth, resembling a door just wide enough for two adults to walk through side by side.

"Pass through this."

"What is this...?"

"If you have truly repented, you should be able to pass through this Door of Selection."

Richter looked at me in confusion.

If it was a Shezia shield, anyone without malice or ill intent should be able to pass through. I met Richter's eyes and nodded once.

"If it's Richter, it'll be fine."

At my words, Richter stepped forward, a strong light in his eyes. He descended from the stage and stood before the amber rectangle.

Though keeping their distance, the people in the square watched with bated breath, wondering what would happen.

Richter looked tense and apprehensive, but he passed through smoothly without incident.

"See, High Priest? He's fine, isn't he?"

"Hmm. Richter seems trustworthy enough, but what about this one?"

So saying, the High Priest looked down at the town master with cold eyes.

Richter and several of the village heads escorted the town master down from the stage and tried to push him through the Door of Selection.

"Uwah!?"

As I had expected, the town master could not pass through and was blasted away by a powerful wind. In the next instant, a band of light from Eckhart's Stappe shot out and bound the town master tight.

"Lord Ferdinand, we've captured the traitor."

"Good work."

I could hear the collective gasp of the people gathered in the square. Richter had passed through, but the town master had been rejected by the Door of Selection. The people stared at it with frightened eyes.

The people of Hasse who had participated in the attack on the small temple would have realized that the same power was at work on them. Some of them had clearly gone pale.

"Richter, make every last person from Hasse pass through. At this juncture, we'll dispose of all dangerous individuals."

"High Priest..."

I tugged lightly on the High Priest's sleeve, thinking it wouldn't be necessary to go that far, but he compared the gathered crowd with the town master writhing in bonds of light.

"...There's no telling how many more like him are in here. If you don't want to punish all of Hasse at once, a selection is necessary, isn't it?"

"I-I trust the people of Hasse. A selection is..."

Before I could finish saying "unnecessary," the High Priest grinned.

"In that case, there should be no problem even if they are selected."

Unable to counter, I could only say, "There's no problem. Right, Richter?" tossing it to him. But Richter narrowed his eyes and, if anything, accepted the selection with a smile.

"Yes, High Priestess. There is no problem whatsoever. ...If anyone is rejected in the same way as the town master, it would be better to remove them. Their presence could put Hasse in danger once again. We cannot afford to have the Lord's suspicious gaze fall upon us any further."

Richter showed no hesitation whatsoever in selecting potential threats who might lead to further treason. He was, if anything, eager—saying they absolutely must avoid incurring the displeasure of the Lord's family again, and that the destruction of all of Hasse had to be prevented.

"This is a selection of those who can receive the mercy of the Holy One of Ehrenfest. As you can see, I passed through. If you don't want to be disposed of as traitors, pass through this!"

Richter then made everyone gathered in the square pass through the Door of Selection.

They went through in groups by village, starting with the village heads. The rural folk had little influence from the town master and hadn't been involved in the attack, so they all passed through without any trouble whatsoever.

The problem was the townspeople of Hasse who harbored those who had participated in the attack on the small temple. There were some who hesitated to pass through the Door, afraid they would be rejected like the town master.

"If you don't pass through, that's no problem. Bind them all the same as the town master."

"Sir!"

At the High Priest's words, Eckhart produced his Stappe. Seeing this, the townspeople screamed and rushed frantically toward the Gate of Selection.

"Uwah!?"

"Gyaa!?"

Most of them passed through, but several were rejected by the gate. Eckhart's bands of light immediately bound them.

After everyone had undergone the selection, the door vanished, and the six bound individuals were brought up onto the stage.

"Those rejected by the gate harbor ill will toward us. They will be disposed of here."

"That's fine. They were die-hard supporters of the town master. There's nothing to defend. Rather, I am grateful that the Door of Selection has proven our innocence."

Richter spoke and knelt before the High Priest and me.

My heart thudded. The reality that executions were about to take place right here sent the blood draining from my face.

The High Priest had said from the beginning that the town master would be punished, so I'd known this was coming. Even so, my heart pounded with dread, and cold sweat trickled down my back.

"Rosemine. Watch this carefully."

"...Yes."

Richter, along with everyone gathered in the square, seemed utterly unaffected by the punishment about to be carried out against those who had placed them in peril. It wasn't that they felt nothing—it would be more accurate to say that no trace of revulsion or discomfort showed on their faces.

In the narrative of victim and perpetrator, where the townspeople of Hasse had been branded with the stigma of treason, the mood was clear: it was only natural for the perpetrators to be punished.

"Eustachus."

"At your command, Lord Ferdinand."

Eustachus, called upon by the High Priest, reached toward the large box he had brought onto the stage and turned the key with a click.

The side panel fell forward, revealing the box's contents. It looked like a document case with about five shallow drawers. However, one couldn't see what was inside.

"High Priest, what is that box?"

"It contains Hasse's registration certificates."

Registration certificates were apparently medals stamped with a Blood Seal during the Baptism Ceremony to register someone as a domain resident. For the Commoners of Ehrenfest, the Temple handled all registration, marriages, and removals upon death. But in other directly governed territories, all registrations were carried out during the autumn Harvest Festival, and notifications of removals came from the town master. Civil officials at the castle then processed the registration certificates based on reports from priests and tax collectors.

"Since I don't know how many punishments will be carried out today, I brought everything here. Normally, these wouldn't be taken from the castle."

...It's like taking the household registry out of the municipal office?

That would require the overseeing official never to leave their side, and the documents would need to be heavily guarded.

Eustachus smoothly pulled out a single sheet of paper and addressed Eckhart.

"Eckhart, make sure no one approaches."

"Right."

Eckhart produced his Stappe, transforming it into the shape of a sword, and assumed a guarding stance. The posture—ready to cut down anyone who came near—made clear just how important these materials were.

"Begin, Eustachus."

"At your command."

Eustachus gripped his Stappe and chanted, "Messer." The Stappe transformed into the shape of a knife. With the knife in one hand and the paper in the other, he stepped forward before those who had become traitors.

It's become Richter's turn rather than the town master's turn, hasn't it?

Next time, Hasse will be finished. Probably.