A Priest's Life as a Villain

Chapter 001

"Quersa" is an archbishopric located outside the jurisdiction of the "Astana Empire."

It is the root of the empire's state religion, the 'Holy Church', a holy land for pilgrims, and the land where noble souls rest under the blessing of Asriel, whom all citizens revere as their Lord.

"Try saying 'Asriel, you son of a bitch.'"

Novice priest Cyrano startled and lifted his head.

In front of him was none other than High Priest Iscarang, the quirkiest of all eccentrics, someone even the archbishop wouldn't dare to provoke.

Looking at Iscarang, who was twitching one corner of his mouth, Cyrano hurriedly recited a prayer.

"Lord, please protect me from wicked deception and temptation?"

"Ah, that's enough. Reflexes—pass."

Irritated, Cyrano involuntarily furrowed his brow.

No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't figure out why this eccentric Iscarang had called him out to torment him like this.

"High Priest, if I have done something wrong, could you please tell me? I really have no idea."

"There's nothing like that."

Iscarang absentmindedly answered as he toyed with the dagger in his hand. Carrying a blade inside Quersa was strictly forbidden. But a man who'd blurt out blasphemy with no hesitation wouldn't care about such rules.

Cyrano clenched his jaw so hard his jaw muscles bulged.

'Don't lose your mind?!'

Nervous and tense, Cyrano was approached by Iscarang, who spoke nonchalantly.

"You. Come and work on something with me."

"? Excuse me?"

"It's not just any job. It's a problem that holds the future of our Holy Church—no, the fate of the Empire."

When people are flustered, they can momentarily lose the power of speech. That was exactly Cyrano's state just then. He replayed in his mind what he had just heard.

While Cyrano was processing, iscarang had already drawn the dagger and was brushing its blunt side along his chin.

"What kind of... work is it?"

"I'll tell you if you promise to do it."

"I can't give you an answer unless I know what it is."

"Cyrano. You've grown up a lot."

Bowing his head, Cyrano pretended to scratch the back of his head and cursed under his breath. He felt as if he'd been struck by lightning out of nowhere.

"Why me, of all people?"

"You're the perfect person for the job."

No sooner had he finished speaking than Iscarang suddenly swung his arm.

Thwack!

Cyrano only barely turned his head. Something shot past his cheek. He looked back to find Iscarang's dagger quivering, stuck in a tree.

"Hi–High Priest?!"

"Your instincts are sharp, too. Now, hand it back."

Iscarang held out his hand. Cyrano's face twisted. He glared at Iscarang, pulled out the dagger, and, instead of handing it over directly, twirled it several times, juggling it in his grasp.

Iscarang snorted with amusement as he watched Cyrano.

"Stop showing off."

"Yes, sir."

Cyrano set the dagger's handle into Iscarang's palm and backed away.

"Did you secretly train in swordsmanship?"

"I have my hands full just memorizing the scriptures all day."

"Hmm, out in the world, men like you are said to have a devil's talent."

"Wh–what? A devil's?"

"Which is precisely why you're suited for this."

Cyrano brushed under his nose with his index finger.

"Why do you want to be a priest?"

"Well, obviously—"

"I guess you never thought about anything else."

"??."

Caught off guard by the sudden question, Cyrano didn't particularly respond.

In truth, he did have a special reason for needing to become a priest. Once he became a full priest and rose to the rank of bishop—beyond High Priest—he would have the authority to access Quersa's 'Forbidden Archive', said to hold every secret of the continent.

Cyrano wanted to see his own birth records there.

"If you succeed at this, I promise not only to make you a full priest, but also to offer you the rank of bishop."

Iscarang spoke as if he could see right through Cyrano.

Cyrano hesitated, then stifled a laugh. It was absurd for someone who was himself the high priest to make bold promises about the bishop's seat.

He was about to reply when Iscarang cut in.

"His Eminence will guarantee this for you."

Cyrano's eyes widened. The archbishop was tantamount to an emperor in Quersa. No one could refute his word.

Iscarang raised his index finger.

"However."

"? However?"

"Until your mission is complete, you are exiled from Quersa."

It was as if someone had tugged his head to the side—Cyrano's head drooped.

Everyone in Quersa knew that High Priest Iscarang was an eccentric not to be trifled with. They also knew he wasn't one to babble nonsense.

Cyrano's deliberation was brief.

A sense of duty. It was a feeling he'd never experienced before—so heavy.

And above all, the archbishop's word was law.

"I'll do it. Whatever it is, you must have your reasons for choosing me."

"Good."

Iscarang stood up, clasped his hands behind his back, and headed off somewhere. Cyrano hurried after him with short steps.

The skies of Quersa were clear and blue all year round. The people of Quersa believed that, too, was all due to Asriel's blessing.

As he gazed at the sky, iscarang muttered,

"Cyrano. Have you ever imagined what lies outside Quersa?"

"You mean the mundane world? Well—people are the same everywhere, aren't they?"

"Wrong. It's a whole other world. If you ever taste what's out there, there wouldn't be a soul who'd want to stay in Quersa."

"How would you know that, High Priest?"

"You'll know yourself when you're my age."

Cyrano wanted to say something in reply, but held back. The last time he'd acted up in a similar situation, he'd gotten kicked in the shins for his trouble.

"Society only runs smoothly when everyone fulfills their role and function. Innocent types like you need to stay frogs in the well so that Quersa can continue. It's the same with the outside world."

Believers they passed bowed respectfully to Iscarang as they went. Cyrano thought deeply about Iscarang's words as he followed behind.

"You've heard that the mainland's been restless lately?"

"Yes. I've heard rumors that a civil war could break out soon."

Young novice priests learned about worldly affairs one day a week. They studied the empire's history, geography, and basic subjects for their age.

Cyrano liked it best when he got to hear stories about the outside world.

"Even at this very moment, countless flames of life are being snuffed out—without ever fulfilling their full span."

"Isn't that why we study the Lord's word, to comfort such wronged souls? Mainland clergy have a duty to save those in need."

"You're right. Now more than ever, the church must shine brightly, and the Lord's embrace must be warm. However..."

Iscarang stopped abruptly. His gaze at Cyrano was calm and serious.

"But what if, instead of fulfilling their duty, the clergy themselves lead the charge in oppressing the people?"

Cyrano's eyes widened. He couldn't answer at once and found himself recalling pilgrims who'd come from the mainland. All of them had pure and clear souls; there was no doubt they were true servants of the Lord.

"Are you implying the mainland order has become corrupt?"

"If only it were that mild. No, they are now heretics."

"High Priest! That, that's...?"

"What if the church incites the emperor to start a civil war? What do you think?"

"That–that's unthinkable—then what do we do?"

"That is what I am asking you."

They walked along the marble corridor.

Sensing an opportunity as there were fewer people around, Cyrano whispered quickly.

"So, you want me to go to the mainland and investigate?"

Iscarang shook his head with a faint smile.

"Close, but not quite. It's not as simple as just looking into the situation. If that's all it took, we'd send a diplomatic delegation, not just you alone."

"Haah, I still don't understand, High Priest. Please, explain clearly."

Sunlight streamed through gaps in the corridor wall, stretching long across the floor. Light and shadow alternated in regular intervals all the way to the end of the hall.

Standing in the bright spot of sunlight, iscarang spoke to Cyrano, who stood in the shade.

"The Lord said to reform evil and guide it into the light, but I disagree. Evil must only be governed by even greater evil."

"Wh-what do you mean by that...?"

"You will be entering the grand cathedral."

Cyrano swallowed dryly. He emptied his mind and took Iscarang's words literally. He felt a strange trembling. For the first time in his life, he understood what it was like for his own heart to beat.

From one side of the corridor, someone clapped, shattering the silence.

Both men turned their attention to the sound.

"Hohoho. When I look at you together, you really do look like father and son. Now I understand why such rumors spread."

A burly old man approached, smiling kindly.

"Y–Your Eminence!"

Cyrano hurriedly bowed at the waist. Iscarang, though less flamboyant, also offered a courteous salute.

The archbishop spread his hands and gently patted both men on the back.

"Did you know? In all of Quersa's history, only Iscarang and Cyrano have ever confessed in the booth that they wish priests could have women."

It was meant to lighten the mood, but Cyrano couldn't relax. Face to face with the archbishop, everything Iscarang had said so far struck home.

Sneaking glances at Iscarang and the archbishop, Cyrano cautiously spoke up.

"Your Eminence, how could someone as unworthy as I handle such a grave task...?"

"Why not? I believe in your abilities, Cyrano, more than anyone else."

Cyrano flared his nostrils. At his age, praise and recognition were things he desperately craved. He wanted to say so much, but the words only circled in his mouth.

"Cyrano. The whole nation lives in terror of war. In times like these, our Holy Church cannot deepen the confusion by creating further rifts."

The gentleness of the archbishop's tone held a hidden sting.

At last, Cyrano fully understood what Iscarang meant by exile from Quersa.

He was already a figure outside the protection of the Holy Church.

"Cyrano, Cyran, Ran... Yes, let's go with Ran."

The archbishop spoke thus, gently cupping Cyrano's hands in his own and closing his eyes.

His voice rang out quietly and solemnly.

"Lord, watch over this young son who steps onto the path of the temple. Grant him the composure to accept what cannot be changed, the courage to change what can be changed, and the wisdom to know the difference."

The day before shedding his novice status and becoming a full priest—

Cyrano became Apostle Ran.

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=
Looks like a good premise...
【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】