"Why are you only nagging me when the saintess isn't doing any work at all!"
Gion threw down his hammer and shouted toward the prayer room.
"Archbishop! Please save me!"
"Ho-ho."
Mathias slowly walked out of the prayer room while putting on gloves. Gion immediately clung to his side and began to complain.
"She sits back without doing anything and just works me to the bone. Is it right for a high-level talent like me to be doing menial chores like this?"
"Ho-ho, keep up the good work."
"…Pardon?"
Mathias casually picked up a bucket in each hand.
"Heave-ho. I still have plenty to do myself."
Leaving those words behind, he disappeared inside.
"Is she bossing around the Archbishop, too?"
Gion muttered with a defeated look.
Taking advantage of the moment, Ariel walked over and pressed the hammer back into Gion's hand.
"Of course. Isn't this a group effort? I'm working hard too, you know."
"…"
"Now, if you handle things well on your own, you won't need to see me at all, right?"
Ariel smiled brightly and urged Gion on. Trembling, he raised the hammer once again.
Clang, clang.
The sound of hammering continued rhythmically.
"Priest Gion, you're slowing down. One-two, one-two, keep up with the rhythm."
"…"
"Hang in there just a bit more, Priest Gion! Please finish clearing the snow off the roof outside, too."
"…I am here for handover duties! Not a laborer! The saintess was sent here because she sinned, too!"
Gion slammed the hammer onto the ground with a thud. The nail was driven in perfectly.
"Seriously, why bother clearing snow that is just going to pile up again soon?"
Despite his complaints, he picked up a snow shovel, went outside, and climbed up onto the roof.
"We need to clear the snow so we can check whether there's any damage to the roof."
Ariel, who had been listening to Gion's grumbling, followed him again and started nagging.
"I know! I know!"
Gion began scraping away the snow irritably. His shoveling was surprisingly neat. And he finished this job perfectly as well.
Time passed, and on the exact sixth day since the work had begun…
The repairs were completed much faster and more flawlessly than expected.
Ariel and the members of the temple pushed several wooden tables together in the center of the large prayer room, deciding to hold a humble party and eat a late lunch.
Some wondered if it was acceptable to do this in a prayer room, but because it was led by Mathias—who insisted that even divine power ultimately comes from eating well—no one dared to object.
Arranged neatly on the tables were large slices of roasted venison barbecue, freshly baked bread, and wine straight from an oak barrel.
Gion thudded a large pot of piping hot stew onto the middle of the dining table. Wearing a grimy apron, he held a ladle in his hand.
"I am not a chef!"
Even while grumbling, he began ladling out bowl after bowl of stew.
Northern cuisine was naturally simple and plain. Hilda's potato soup was top-tier, but everything else fell slightly short.
Because of that, Gion had naturally stepped into the vacant cooking duties a few days earlier. They had randomly handed the cooking to him at first, and the result had turned out surprisingly good.
"It's delicious!"
Hilda exclaimed with genuine admiration the moment she took a spoonful.
"Wow, Priest Gion. The seasoning on this stew is amazing! Do they teach priests how to cook in the central temple?"
"The barbecue is cooked to perfection too! You're practically a chef!"
"I said I'm not a chef!"
As Ariel and Hilda offered their bright praise, Gion yelled back, even while meticulously slathering special sauce onto the barbecue.
Ding!
[Gion's Workload: 100%]
[Quest Complete! Rewards have been distributed.]
Pretending to take a spoonful of stew, Ariel curled her lips into a slight smile.
Phew, easy peasy.
Her toes tapped lightly under the table.
"Great job, everyone!"
Ariel raised her glass in high spirits.
"Since we went through all the trouble to fix it up so nicely, I hope donations… I mean, lots of people start visiting."
"As if."
When Ariel subtly dropped her wish, Gion snorted.
"Didn't you see last time? Everyone hates the Order. Hates it."
Gion knocked back his wine in one gulp.
"So no matter how much we fix up the temple, who's actually going to come? It's a waste of effort, a complete waste."
Gion looked down at his hands, which had grown rough over the past few days, and shook his head.
"Of course, it's all rooted in misunderstandings with the central temple. But how could these ignorant Northerners possibly grasp the complex details? They'll just run their mouths however it suits them."
In that moment, Ian—who had been silently chewing his meat—felt his gaze grow cold. Before Gion could say anything weirder, Ariel naturally cut in.
"Well, it seems like some donations have been coming in, though? That's how we were able to make these repairs."
Ariel flicked a glance at Ian, signaling him to calm down.
Ian's eyes softened once more. Then he slowly lowered his gaze to his plate.
Hilda tore off a small piece of bread, dipped it into the stew, and spoke up.
"There are many people who came from the northern temple's relief center. They send us various things."
"Relief center?"
Hilda popped the soaked bread into her mouth and chewed as she continued.
"Yes, saintess. Everyone is busy right now, but they drop by to pray occasionally."
Ariel tilted her head slightly.
"But we've been here for over a month, and I don't think I've seen them even once?"
"Don't worry, saintess. You'll see them soon. Everyone makes sure to come before the subjugation squad leaves."
People from the relief center, huh?
She suddenly grew curious about how they survived in the North, where hatred for the Order was rampant.
"What about you, Miss Hilda?"
"My father was always busy, so I grew up here since I was little. The Archbishop took care of me."
A faint smile hung on Hilda's lips as she glanced briefly at Mathias.
Does she not have a mother?
The thought crossed her mind, but Ariel kept quiet. Prying into someone else's family matters was rude.
However…
"Then what about your mother, Miss Hilda?"
Gion's shallow tact apparently didn't stretch that far.
"She passed away during the monster war. Well, I wasn't the only one who lost someone precious back then."
The long, brutal monster war had lasted seven years.
Six years had passed since then, but the scars of those days lingered across every corner of the North.
"Even the previous grand duke died during that war."
"Eek!"
Ever since visiting the grand duke's castle, Gion freaked out at the mere mention of the grand duke.
"Then when did the grand duke inherit the title?"
"He inherited it mid-war… I think he was around sixteen?"
"T-That's why he's so ferocious! As expected, a person needs proper education…"
Clack!
Mathias set his spoon down on the table.
"Ho-ho, please eat before the stew gets cold."
Though his voice was gentle, an unmistakable chill seeped through it.
Even the clueless Gion seemed to pick up on it, flinching into silence.
That was when it happened.
With a loud crash, Ian roughly kicked back his chair and stood up. At the same time, his hand gripped the hilt of his sword.
"Eeeek!"
Startled, Gion dragged his chair far back.
"A-A person can make a mistake! Say no to violence! Say no to violence!"
Gion threw both hands high into the air, flailing his arms in panic.
But Ian's eyes were fixed on the door, not Gion. Taking a step forward, Ian pushed his sword halfway out of its scabbard. Hilda also slammed down the meat bone in her hand, turning her head sharply toward the entrance.
"W-Why is everyone acting like this?"
Just as Gion was stammering in confusion…
CRASH!
One side of the door they had painstakingly repaired broke apart and collapsed on the spot.
Clank, clank.
Thud, thud.
Heavy footsteps completely out of place in a peaceful prayer room came storming in. Soon, fully armed knights flooded the room.
"By order of His Grace the grand duke! Drag the saintess out immediately!"
A biting northern wind rushed in through the shattered doorway.
* * *
The knights marched Ariel out, escorting her on both sides as if taking her into custody.
In the prayer room, which looked as though a hurricane had swept through, nothing remained except the brutally torn door and a desolate silence.
"Sir Deon!"
Ian grabbed the shoulder of a familiar knight marching at the very back of the formation.
"Why are you arresting her?"
"It is His Grace the grand duke's command."
"Is there no reason given?"
The knight scratched his helmet awkwardly and whispered.
"I don't know what happened, but His Grace is furious right now. Doesn't he usually refrain from losing his temper directly with the people of the grand duchy unless they did something terrible? A man who's suffocatingly terrifying even when doing nothing is roaring mad out in the open, so that saintess must have done something terribly wrong."
As soon as he finished speaking, the knight gave Ian a brief nod and rejoined the ranks.
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