Cardinal de Mare raised his head at Cardinal Fraverti's words that he would erase the black magic incident.
"Yes?"
“Cardinal Borgona is willing to cover up all the revelations related to black magic, if Your Eminence, Cardinal de Mare, cooperates.”
This was a suggestion that had to be heard.
Eventually, Cardinal de Mare met face-to-face with Cardinal Rodrigo Borgona of Castelo Real.
“Thank you for your hard work, Your Eminence Cardinal de Mare.”
Cardinal Borgona greeted Cardinal de Mare with a kind smile and a wrinkled face.
He welcomed the opportunity to elect a new Pope as a last-minute surprise gift.
This means that there was almost no sense of self-confidence or legitimacy of taking power, no sense of victimization toward others, no belief that one must gain something, and no sense of self-confidence in wielding power.
Cardinal Borgona was very polite and very flexible in the details of the negotiations.
He assured Cardinal de Mare that he would keep all accusations of black magic to himself and gave appropriate guarantees to ensure that Cardinal de Mare would believe him.
But given the circumstances, the conditions were by no means generous to Cardinal de Mare.
“You’ll have to give up your seat.”
“...Then the successor is...”
- “In that regard, I would like to hear the Cardinal’s opinion...”
After discussing the details at length alone, they came to a conclusion.
After the great deal with Cardinal Borgona, Cardinal de Mare followed his faction and relayed this message.
“...I’m sorry, everyone.”
After this arrangement, the curtain rose on the twentieth day of the conclave.
“Borgona 20, Arcandele 5, abstention 2.”
The next morning, the vote was as follows. Cardinal Arcandele, who was surprised by the sudden change in numbers, went into private conversation with Cardinal Borgona immediately after the meeting.
He had no choice but to take a forward-looking attitude.
At lunchtime, the final coordination was made between Cardinal Borgona and Cardinal Arcandele.
The final decision was reached in a vote that afternoon.
“Borgona unanimous!”
Twenty-seven cardinals let out sighs with different meanings.
Some people are happy to be free, some people are not happy with the result, some people are in pain, and some people are touched.
“Thank you for your hard work.”
“Glory be to the new Pope!”
“...That’s what happened.”
The Cardinal returned to the de Mare mansion and closed his eyes. His face had aged twenty years in an instant.
He was trembling with fear inside. The object of his fear was none other than his children. Grown-up children were always difficult, but it was not simply that problem.
'What did this kid want from me?'
Cardinal de Mare was always a man who brought something to his children.
Good things, whether money, luxuries, teachers, connections, opportunities, or anything else, flowed unilaterally from the Cardinal to his children.
The reflective consideration that there was no thoughtful consideration or affection was not entirely meaningless.
Although it is not clear how much of it was true, Isabella cried out that her father was not interested in her, and Ariadne also doubted her father's love.
It was obvious that attention and love would help.
But while he was sure that his children would like affection added to the money, he had no confidence at all that they would like affection 'only' given without money or gain.
'What if she gets angry and asks what use I am?'
He accepted the proposals of Cardinal Burgona, and now of Pope Justinian VIII, for the sake of his daughter.
It was a decision to save his family, but thinking back, his daughter had actually asked him to become the Pope and solidify her marriage path before sending him away.
Cardinal de Mare suddenly felt a chill down his spine, followed by a wave of regret.
The voice of his young daughter rang in the ears of the Cardinal, who had closed his eyes in fear.
“Are you stupid?”
'A fool who threw away the chance to become the Pope? A fool who threw away the chance to give his child a flowery path because of fear?'
A chill ran down his body, which had been injured for twenty days. Cardinal de Mare began to tremble without even realizing it.
But what followed was not a harsh reprimand, but a warm human warmth. His daughter hugged him.
"Really!"
A ray of warmth on his skin amidst the early winter weather in San Carlo, where the cold air began to blow, felt like magic.
It means that it felt as if it wasn't real.
“How can you endure that for twenty days?”
Ariadne's voice was crackling, but the Cardinal could clearly read the moisture in it.
“They said that if we stay there for a week, they won’t even give us heating and only give us water and bread!”
When she thought about how Cardinal de Mare must have been trembling in fear and enduring it alone in the conclave, with no one to confide in, she felt sorry for her old father.
And Ariadne remembered Cardinal de Mare's obsession with the papal throne, or rather, with the ascension itself.
Although his lust for power did not cool down in this life, Cardinal de Mare in his previous life was the very embodiment of lust for power.
His lust for power was not a desire to trample on others and stand above them. It was more fundamental than that.
He acted like he couldn't even imagine a life that wasn't improving, like he was useless if he wasn't improving.
“Just give it to me and come out, what the hell is that!”
Ariadne looked at her father. He had made his choice today after an internal conflict between his desire for power and his inability to put his family in danger.
It couldn't have been easy. The Cardinal's aged face spoke volumes about his mental anguish.
Two pairs of identical green eyes met. If the old irises held fear, the young irises held sincerity.
The moment their eyes met and they took two deep breaths, Cardinal de Mare suddenly burst into tears.
He cried loudly in her arms, still young, without any shame.
But these were not tears of sadness. There were tears of relief, joy, gratitude, and gratitude that it was finally over.
He fell off the path to success. Now he could stop running.
“The new pope is... His Holiness Justinian VIII!”
These words were a declaration of the beginning of a new era and the accomplishment of Ippolito's long-cherished wish.
Ippolito, who was hiding in the corner of the square, threw an uppercut into the air.
'This is it!'
The square was filled with rejoicing people, grateful that a new Pope had been safely elected.
No one was as thrilled by his winnings as Ippolito, but the crowds were a good place to hide.
After safely confirming the news of the election of the new Pope without meeting anyone who knew him, Ippolito set off at a brisk pace to meet Bishop Bevich.
Bishop Bevich was the pastor of the Diocese of Chiriani.
Although the diocese of Ciriani was attached to the southwest of San Carlo, it was strictly an independent diocese, which meant that Ippolito had to move quite a bit.
Because of his difficult circumstances, he had to sell all his horses and came riding on a borrowed mule, but Ippolito was always smiling.
"Hey."
If Bishop Bevich could give him a share of the credit for finishing this job well...! Now that he's properly on good terms with de Mare, no one can block his promotion!
But the gatekeeper of the Chiriani parish did not answer his call.
"Hey!"
Ippolito was angry, but decided to think positively. The contribution he had made was not the kind of contribution that Bishop Bevich could go around bragging about.
It was a secret mission. A sort of spy. He might not have told his low-level servants, like the gatekeepers, about himself. Yeah, that's true.
“Hey. I’ve come to see Bishop Bevich.”
The gatekeeper looked at Ippolito as if he had seen all the funny things. Ippolito could not stand the blatant contempt and burst into anger.
“Hey, can’t you hear me? You little punk guarding the door! I said I came to see Bishop Bevich!”
The gatekeeper looked at Ippolito belatedly.
The man who had been leaning against the wall got up, and when he saw that he was standing up straight, Ippolito was momentarily frightened because he was bigger than he had thought.
It wasn't just his size that made Ippolito so overwhelmed by the mere gatekeeper.
The doorkeeper clearly had a look of contempt on his face.
“Brother. Go back when I tell you something nice.”
“This, this...!”
Ippolito was about to say something angry, but was overwhelmed by the gatekeeper's aura and asked politely.
“Isn’t Bishop Bevich here...?” he asked.
The gatekeeper spat out with an expression that suggested he was looking at something insignificant.
“The bishop is gone.”
"Yes?"
Ippolito's expression became blank.
“Someone came down from above and said that the bishop was being taken somewhere and that the priest is now acting as the bishop’s representative.”
It was here that Cardinal de Mare took on Cardinal Borgona, or rather, Pope Justinian VIII.
Pope Justinian promised to dismiss Bishop Bevich, who had brought the accusation, as a concrete measure to cover up the Cardinal's black magic.
As soon as the conclave ended following that promise, the disciplinary officer directly under the Holy See's Office burst in at dawn and dragged Bishop Bevich out by grabbing his limbs.
The new Pope was determined to weed out anyone connected with this accusation so that not even the 'black' part of black magic could be heard, and he kept his promise.
The gatekeeper laughed and mocked Ippolito.
“You say Bevich Bevich so proudly. Are you related to Bishop Bevich?”
"Yes?"
“Cardinal Borgona is willing to cover up all the revelations related to black magic, if Your Eminence, Cardinal de Mare, cooperates.”
This was a suggestion that had to be heard.
Eventually, Cardinal de Mare met face-to-face with Cardinal Rodrigo Borgona of Castelo Real.
“Thank you for your hard work, Your Eminence Cardinal de Mare.”
Cardinal Borgona greeted Cardinal de Mare with a kind smile and a wrinkled face.
He welcomed the opportunity to elect a new Pope as a last-minute surprise gift.
This means that there was almost no sense of self-confidence or legitimacy of taking power, no sense of victimization toward others, no belief that one must gain something, and no sense of self-confidence in wielding power.
Cardinal Borgona was very polite and very flexible in the details of the negotiations.
He assured Cardinal de Mare that he would keep all accusations of black magic to himself and gave appropriate guarantees to ensure that Cardinal de Mare would believe him.
But given the circumstances, the conditions were by no means generous to Cardinal de Mare.
“You’ll have to give up your seat.”
“...Then the successor is...”
- “In that regard, I would like to hear the Cardinal’s opinion...”
After discussing the details at length alone, they came to a conclusion.
After the great deal with Cardinal Borgona, Cardinal de Mare followed his faction and relayed this message.
“...I’m sorry, everyone.”
After this arrangement, the curtain rose on the twentieth day of the conclave.
“Borgona 20, Arcandele 5, abstention 2.”
The next morning, the vote was as follows. Cardinal Arcandele, who was surprised by the sudden change in numbers, went into private conversation with Cardinal Borgona immediately after the meeting.
He had no choice but to take a forward-looking attitude.
At lunchtime, the final coordination was made between Cardinal Borgona and Cardinal Arcandele.
The final decision was reached in a vote that afternoon.
“Borgona unanimous!”
Twenty-seven cardinals let out sighs with different meanings.
Some people are happy to be free, some people are not happy with the result, some people are in pain, and some people are touched.
“Thank you for your hard work.”
“Glory be to the new Pope!”
***
“...That’s what happened.”
The Cardinal returned to the de Mare mansion and closed his eyes. His face had aged twenty years in an instant.
He was trembling with fear inside. The object of his fear was none other than his children. Grown-up children were always difficult, but it was not simply that problem.
'What did this kid want from me?'
Cardinal de Mare was always a man who brought something to his children.
Good things, whether money, luxuries, teachers, connections, opportunities, or anything else, flowed unilaterally from the Cardinal to his children.
The reflective consideration that there was no thoughtful consideration or affection was not entirely meaningless.
Although it is not clear how much of it was true, Isabella cried out that her father was not interested in her, and Ariadne also doubted her father's love.
It was obvious that attention and love would help.
But while he was sure that his children would like affection added to the money, he had no confidence at all that they would like affection 'only' given without money or gain.
'What if she gets angry and asks what use I am?'
He accepted the proposals of Cardinal Burgona, and now of Pope Justinian VIII, for the sake of his daughter.
It was a decision to save his family, but thinking back, his daughter had actually asked him to become the Pope and solidify her marriage path before sending him away.
Cardinal de Mare suddenly felt a chill down his spine, followed by a wave of regret.
The voice of his young daughter rang in the ears of the Cardinal, who had closed his eyes in fear.
“Are you stupid?”
'A fool who threw away the chance to become the Pope? A fool who threw away the chance to give his child a flowery path because of fear?'
A chill ran down his body, which had been injured for twenty days. Cardinal de Mare began to tremble without even realizing it.
But what followed was not a harsh reprimand, but a warm human warmth. His daughter hugged him.
"Really!"
A ray of warmth on his skin amidst the early winter weather in San Carlo, where the cold air began to blow, felt like magic.
It means that it felt as if it wasn't real.
“How can you endure that for twenty days?”
Ariadne's voice was crackling, but the Cardinal could clearly read the moisture in it.
“They said that if we stay there for a week, they won’t even give us heating and only give us water and bread!”
When she thought about how Cardinal de Mare must have been trembling in fear and enduring it alone in the conclave, with no one to confide in, she felt sorry for her old father.
And Ariadne remembered Cardinal de Mare's obsession with the papal throne, or rather, with the ascension itself.
Although his lust for power did not cool down in this life, Cardinal de Mare in his previous life was the very embodiment of lust for power.
His lust for power was not a desire to trample on others and stand above them. It was more fundamental than that.
He acted like he couldn't even imagine a life that wasn't improving, like he was useless if he wasn't improving.
“Just give it to me and come out, what the hell is that!”
Ariadne looked at her father. He had made his choice today after an internal conflict between his desire for power and his inability to put his family in danger.
It couldn't have been easy. The Cardinal's aged face spoke volumes about his mental anguish.
Two pairs of identical green eyes met. If the old irises held fear, the young irises held sincerity.
The moment their eyes met and they took two deep breaths, Cardinal de Mare suddenly burst into tears.
He cried loudly in her arms, still young, without any shame.
But these were not tears of sadness. There were tears of relief, joy, gratitude, and gratitude that it was finally over.
He fell off the path to success. Now he could stop running.
***
“The new pope is... His Holiness Justinian VIII!”
These words were a declaration of the beginning of a new era and the accomplishment of Ippolito's long-cherished wish.
Ippolito, who was hiding in the corner of the square, threw an uppercut into the air.
'This is it!'
The square was filled with rejoicing people, grateful that a new Pope had been safely elected.
No one was as thrilled by his winnings as Ippolito, but the crowds were a good place to hide.
After safely confirming the news of the election of the new Pope without meeting anyone who knew him, Ippolito set off at a brisk pace to meet Bishop Bevich.
Bishop Bevich was the pastor of the Diocese of Chiriani.
Although the diocese of Ciriani was attached to the southwest of San Carlo, it was strictly an independent diocese, which meant that Ippolito had to move quite a bit.
Because of his difficult circumstances, he had to sell all his horses and came riding on a borrowed mule, but Ippolito was always smiling.
"Hey."
If Bishop Bevich could give him a share of the credit for finishing this job well...! Now that he's properly on good terms with de Mare, no one can block his promotion!
But the gatekeeper of the Chiriani parish did not answer his call.
"Hey!"
Ippolito was angry, but decided to think positively. The contribution he had made was not the kind of contribution that Bishop Bevich could go around bragging about.
It was a secret mission. A sort of spy. He might not have told his low-level servants, like the gatekeepers, about himself. Yeah, that's true.
“Hey. I’ve come to see Bishop Bevich.”
The gatekeeper looked at Ippolito as if he had seen all the funny things. Ippolito could not stand the blatant contempt and burst into anger.
“Hey, can’t you hear me? You little punk guarding the door! I said I came to see Bishop Bevich!”
The gatekeeper looked at Ippolito belatedly.
The man who had been leaning against the wall got up, and when he saw that he was standing up straight, Ippolito was momentarily frightened because he was bigger than he had thought.
It wasn't just his size that made Ippolito so overwhelmed by the mere gatekeeper.
The doorkeeper clearly had a look of contempt on his face.
“Brother. Go back when I tell you something nice.”
“This, this...!”
Ippolito was about to say something angry, but was overwhelmed by the gatekeeper's aura and asked politely.
“Isn’t Bishop Bevich here...?” he asked.
The gatekeeper spat out with an expression that suggested he was looking at something insignificant.
“The bishop is gone.”
"Yes?"
Ippolito's expression became blank.
“Someone came down from above and said that the bishop was being taken somewhere and that the priest is now acting as the bishop’s representative.”
It was here that Cardinal de Mare took on Cardinal Borgona, or rather, Pope Justinian VIII.
Pope Justinian promised to dismiss Bishop Bevich, who had brought the accusation, as a concrete measure to cover up the Cardinal's black magic.
As soon as the conclave ended following that promise, the disciplinary officer directly under the Holy See's Office burst in at dawn and dragged Bishop Bevich out by grabbing his limbs.
The new Pope was determined to weed out anyone connected with this accusation so that not even the 'black' part of black magic could be heard, and he kept his promise.
The gatekeeper laughed and mocked Ippolito.
“You say Bevich Bevich so proudly. Are you related to Bishop Bevich?”
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