She wondered if it was because of the letter that Chession wrote in verse.
"We can't send Mori to the Great Hall."
The Great Priesthood sent the Archbishop's representatives and priests. It was in the name of being considerate of Mori by conducting the ceremony in the most comfortable environment possible.
The bag they brought with them contained a silver needle and holy water. Both were deadly to witches.
"!"
Gremory, who had turned into a black cat, fell into Chession's arms and howled at the priests.
Kyaa
"Hehe, you have a fierce pet. Greetings, please call me Rupelon."
The old priest chuckled, and Chession laughed clumsily.
"Haha, nice to meet you. Priest Rupelon."
Chession led the priest to the parlor. While stroking a black cat with its fur upright.
As soon as Rupelon sat down on the plush sofa in the parlor, he got down to business.
"Where is the Saint called 'Mori'?"
"She is working in the convent. Shr'll be here soon after work, so could you wait for a while? It won't take long."
Chession lied as he stroked Gremory, who was lying on his lap. It was because of Gremory's request to take her with him. Chession thought she hated silver needles and was trying to procrastinate, but Gremory had other plans.
'I'm going to look into the darkness slowly and find a way out of this situation.'
Ruby-colored eyes began to scan Rupelon. He has divine powers, so he can't see well because of the darkness, but he won't be able to escape the eyes of the Supreme Witch. If you stare at it for a long time, you'll see its weaknesses someday.
And Rupelon, who was not Interested in the cat's intentions, readily agreed to Chession's request.
"Of course. The process of confirming the Saint is very simple, so you can wait as long as you want."
Chession tried to talk about any topic to pass the time.
"Can you tell me more about how the confirmation process works? I only know about the story of pricking the fingertips with a silver needle and dropping the blood into holy water."
"Haha. That's a famous story, but not much is known about the outcome. In the case of a Saint, the blood turns clear like water, and in the case of ordinary people. It just spreads red. And in the case of the wicked, it turns black... I won't go into detail about the black color. It's a principle."
"I think you've already said everything."
"Oh, I can't say it anymore."
Rupelon didn't look heavy at all for a priest. Chession was a little curious that such a person was the archbishop's representative.
Meanwhile, Gremory was worried.
'My body belongs to Belita, who died in the mountains, but I have long since assimilated with the body of a witch. Will my blood really turn red? I don't think so.'
Time passed more and more. Until Mori's time off work, which Chesion had mentioned.
Finally, Gremory succeeded in reading the darkness of Rupelon.
'He has no responsibility in his position as the archbishop's representative. He just enjoys his status, and he tells lies with his fluttering mouth without any sense of guilt. If so...'
While Gremory rolls her head and makes a plan, Priest Rupelon begins to prepare for the ceremony. He ordered the apprentice priest who came with him.
"Prepare a silver needle and a vessel filled with holy water."
"Yes, Rupelon."
The apprentice took the case out of his arms. When the case was opened, the silver needle flashed and showed its presence.
Kyaa
Gremory made a big mandible and ran out of the parlor. Chession feared that she would never return, but fortunately, she did just in time for the apprentice priest to pour holy water into the bowl. In human form.
"Haha, are you here, Mori? I came here as a representative of the Archbishop..."
"Can I drink it?"
"Yes?"
Before Priest Rupelon could figure it out, Gremory gulped down the holy water in the bowl.
"Kya."
Then she put the empty bowl down on the table with a thud.
Rupelon, who had only figured out the situation after a while, panicked.
"No, wait! What if you drink it all!"
"Oh, sorry, I thought you were leaving me to drink."
"Do you have no idea what the procedure for identifying a Saint is? The famous procedure?"
"I don't know."
"Where are you spoiled half-horses...! Walt, that's not the point, hey, Rian. Is there any holy water left?"
Rupelon turned his attention to the apprentice priest. The apprentice priest hesitated.
"It was just that."
"Oh my gosh! I never thought there would be anyone in the empire who didn't know what the method of identifying a Saint was! Damn It. Rihanna! Why didn't you prepare extras? Of course, you should have prepared extra in case something like this happens!"
"When I went on a business trip for the parting ceremony, I always brought this much! Why don't we just collect blood with a silver needle?"
"Idiot! The blood is the way to take it!"
Meanwhile, Gremory began to stagger like a drunk.
"Mo, Mori?"
"Ugh. I get drunk."
Chession grabbed Gremory's staggering shoulders and asked Rupelon.
"Hey, Priest Rupelon. That liquid just now... Is holy water correct? I think it's alcohol."
"Damn! Rihanna! Why did you bring alcohol? There is something else to be mistaken!"
"Oh, it's unfair! I'm sure it's... holy water!"
"How are you going to explain this situation to the archbishop? You are responsible for everything!"
While Rupelon had a temper tantrum on the apprentice priest, Gremory was very drunk.
For witches, holy water is like poison. Since Gremory was a strong witch, she only drank strong alcohol, and if she had been a weak witch, she would have vomited blood and died.
Meanwhile, a drunken Gremory shouted.
"I am a witch! What kind of witch is a Saint!"
"Mori, calm down."
Chession tried desperately to silence Gremory.
"I'm a witch. I mean it. Ugh."
"Yes, you're a beautiful woman."
"Not a beautiful woman, ugh."
The parlor became a mess for a while.
Gremory falls asleep on the couch, and Rupelon's anger subsides.
Rupelon and Chession began to discuss how to resolve the situation.
"Your Highness. Honestly, I would be embarrassed to report this incident to the Archbishop. So let's do this."
"How?
"Let's just assume that Miss Mori was not a Saint. Wouldn't that be good for Miss Mori and good for me?"
He was right. Mori is glad that he doesn't have to live as a Saint in the future, and Rupelon can hide his ridiculous mistakes and save face as an archbishop's representative.
"Let's do that."
The two men held hands and shook hands solemnly.
The priests went to their respective places. Now all that's left in the parlor is alcohol... No, it was just Mori and Chession, who were drunk with holy water.
"Hey, Mori. Wake up."
On a strange moonlit night. Chession stroked Gremory's face. Gremory blinked her half-open eyes, then took Chession's hand into her arms and began to wriggle into a comfortable position.
"I like your hands."
"...!"
"It's warm."
Chession's face turned bright red. Every time Mori said something like this, he wondered what her intentions were, but he couldn't help but be swayed.
Chession's gaze fell on Gremory's Immaculate face for a moment. It was enough to bewitch any man. He doesn't know who the other person will be, but just imagining it makes him a little jealous...
'No no.'
He was jealous while staring at the other person's face and imagining a scene with another man. He guessed he liked Mori.
While Chession flailed by himself, letting his Imagination run wild, Gremory snored and slept soundly.
Iris shouts from the side, "What are you doing to my brother?" But it didn't reach Gremory's ears as she slept peacefully.
After a while, Chession carefully pulled his hand away, picked Gremory into his arms, and carried her to her bedroom.
***
Rupelon and the apprentice priest left for the Great Hall as soon as daybreak. Gremory, who had turned into a black cat, snuggled in Chession's arms until they were out of sight.
Chession chuckled and patted Mori.
"Did you come up with a trick because you didn't like being pierced by a silver needle so much?"
Nyang
"By the way, was it really alcohol?"
Nyang.
"...Are you saying it's right or not?"
Gremory, who was bothered to answer, just rolled around in Chession's arms. She could talk in cat form, but she didn't have to.
After that day, Gremory's treatment changed, as she was proven not to be a Saint. When people encountered her on the road, they called her "sorcerer," not "Saint." In this land, where sorcerers were more precious than Saints, they were treated even more preciously.
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