I’m an Immigration Officer!

“This pilgrimage is a lie.”

The calm voice echoed through the courtroom.
Erzena spoke, gazing at the people staring at her.
“We are a crusading army marching to the northern continent to finish the Holy War we failed to complete fifteen years ago.”

The truth was finally exposed.
“All the evidence submitted by the defense is true. The Church has been preparing for a long time to exterminate the Heretic Cult.”
She gestured toward the hundreds of documents scattered across the floor.

“From weapons and the Holy Knight Order, to even myself—we set out from the very beginning with war as our goal.”
“But what about the civilians in the Pilgrimage Delegation...?”
“They were a cover. We planned to dissolve them as soon as we reached the North anyway.”

Erzena laid bare everything she knew, without the slightest filter.
Once more, as if to engrave it into memory, she said:
“We are not a Pilgrimage Delegation. We are a military force with the sole purpose of war.”

A heavy silence fell in the wake of the bombshell.
War.
It was the one thing the Kingdom of Crossroads abhorred most fanatically.

Even the very first clause in the neutrality treaty declared:
[Passage across the border for war or use of force shall never be permitted.]
And yet, the Holy Church—the continent’s largest religious organization—had attempted exactly that.

“...”
“...”
No one spoke.
But in every mind, a single thought was screaming:
‘The Saintess has betrayed the Church.’

Everything Erzena said stood in direct contradiction to the Pope’s statements.
In other words, she was defying the Pope.
The realization that something so unthinkable was happening before their very eyes made Mohaim’s hands tremble.

The one who should have been the most composed, the most cold-blooded soldier, now wore an expression twisted with shock, confusion, and disbelief.
“S-Saintess... why...?”
The judge, barely regaining composure, finally managed to speak.

“Do you... do you swear... that not a single word of what you just said is false?”
“Yes.”
Erzena placed her hand on her chest as she answered.

“I swear before the Lord God.”
The Apostle of God swore on her deity.
Which meant that every word she had just spoken—was the truth.

Conversely, it meant that everything said thus far by the Pope’s side was perjury.
The Queen, realizing the implication, threw down her fan and shouted:
“Saintess!!! Do you understand what you’ve just—”

But before her voice could rise further, an even colder and more furious voice rang out from the scrying crystal.
— Erzena.
The Pope was glaring at her from beyond the crystal.

— What do you think you’re doing?
The benevolent old man was gone.
In his place was the face of an inquisitor—one who had purged countless lives.

— Are you saying that I and the Church have lied?
A final chance. A threat—retract your statement.
Erzena did not respond. Instead, she looked at the Pope—and beyond him, at everyone else.

Dozens of gazes fell upon her.
Compared to the audiences she had performed for on stage, it wasn’t much.
But the weight was incomparably heavier.

The hostile stares of those in power.
Those who had been friendly only moments ago—the prosecution led by the Pope—were now glaring at her.
Suddenly, an overwhelming pressure weighed down on her chest. The fear of not knowing what would come next.

It felt like walking on the edge of a blade. Her breath caught in her throat.
In that moment, Erzena realized who had endured this very same terror before her.
‘So this is... what the Chief Inspector must have felt.’

It was exactly what Nathan Kell had gone through right before he refused them entry at the border.
Only now could she understand just how much he had wrestled with that decision.
There had been an easier path.

All he had to do was close his eyes—and no problems would have followed.
But he hadn’t done that.
Instead, he had defied the Pope head-on and declared before all:

[I /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ refuse entry to the Crusading Army.]
Even though he must have known full well what the consequences would be.
‘I’m this terrified—and how did you endure it?’

She was utterly terrified. She wanted to run.
Even with her status as Saintess, the pressure of those stares was unbearable.
And yet, he had stood firm and made it all the way here.

With his life on the line. With no power of his own.
Why?
[There are no exceptions. Not even for the Apostle of God.]

Because he never compromised.
Regardless of God’s will, no matter who stood before him, the Chief Inspector upheld what he believed to be right.
Unlike her—who had lived in blind faith, seeing the world only in black and white.

She took a breath.
‘I want to be like you.’
Where did such courage come from?

She trembled.
Even just standing her ground now made her feel like she might collapse.
To defy the one closest to God—was absolutely terrifying.

But there was no turning back.
Erzena raised her head again.
She took a step forward.

Just like the Chief Inspector.
“I no longer wish to force our faith upon the world in the name of a grand cause.”
— ...This is God’s will, Erzena. Will you defy it?

“And what makes you so certain this is truly His will?”
Another step.
— It is God’s will! I am God’s will! This pilgrimage is a grand cause that must be fulfilled for the Church!

“It is your will, Your Holiness! Just like my predecessor—the former Saintess Tessa Rinogritsa—believed it was God's desire! That the Holy War was divine!”
Her voice rose, cracking with emotion.
“And yet God has warned us—twice! Who ignored those warnings and chased ambition? Who turned away from the suffering and poured everything into war!?”

Something she had never even dared to think in her entire life.
She challenged the Pope’s authority.
“This is not a grand cause—it is a sin! The Crusading Army must be stopped!”

Then she turned to Nathan.
“Innocent people must not die.”
She said it softly, from the depths of her soul.

A brief silence settled over the courtroom.
The judge glanced at the Pope, uncertain, and asked:
“W-Will the prosecution... rebut this statement?”

— I will. Of course I will.
The Pope reached into his sleeve.
And from beyond the scrying crystal, a blinding divine radiance poured out.

— All of you, behold. This holy power is granted only to those loved by the Lord God.
A force almost on par with Erzena’s former golden shimmer.
— More precisely, it is a power bestowed upon one chosen by God—one aligned with His will.

The Queen hastily clasped her hands and shut her eyes in prayer.
— But now, look. The Saintess has no divine power. And what does that tell us?
Until just moments ago, he had used her holy aura to justify his argument.

Now, he twisted its absence into a weapon.
— She has already been forsaken. God has abandoned her.
“...”

The most damning evidence of all.
— Would God truly support the words Erzena Seraff has just spoken?
This, at least, was one point that could not be refuted.

Within the Church, a person’s faith was measured by divine power.
How deeply one believed, how devoted one had been—that was all judged by the strength granted from God.
And now, Erzena had no divine power.

Which meant her words held no credibility at all.
— Do you know why He took your divine power from you?
The Pope spat the words out.

— It was all because of your lack of virtue. Because you were insufficient. Because you failed to believe harder. Because you failed to devote more!
Rebuke. Blame.
He laid all fault at her feet.

— Who would ever listen to the words of a forsaken Saintess?
A blade driven into the chest.
At those words, Erzena suddenly shouted:

“I don’t need divine power!”
The words burst out, even to her own shock.
And yet, she immediately understood why she’d said it.

From the moment her divine power disappeared, Erzena had truly become a powerless being.
The sensation of losing everything she’d enjoyed her entire life was absolutely horrifying.
And yet she’d come to understand something.

It was only when she became a mere piglet that the truth became clear.
‘There are people in this world who live by faith, even without divine power.’
There were those who strove to uphold what was right, even without belief.

She remembered that.
The people standing now on the side of the defense.
And she realized—they didn’t wear that kind of expression.

Not faces twisted with rage—but eyes burning with resolution.
Faces braced with determination, as if retreat was not an option, no matter how afraid they were.
“If being blinded by divine power means forsaking the true path the Church ought to walk... is that truly what the Lord desires?”

With the weight of those gazes on her back, she spoke.
“Was our faith ever meant to be a religion that branded those who disagreed as heretics and killed them in His name?”
It was more of a whisper—an accusation directed at herself.

The final words applied to her as well.
She would not forget her wrongs.
She remembered the days when she was consumed by fanaticism.

She recalled swinging her divine power on a whim, acting like a child.
Declaring anyone who opposed her a heretic and casting them out.
And because of that—she now did what must be done.

“If that is so... if Your Holiness continues to call your ambition God’s will...”
Erzena’s hand slowly reached for her necklace.
The necklace bearing the emblem of the Holy Church—something she had worn since her convent days.

‘The symbol of my faith. The proof of my belief.’
It had never once left her body in twenty years.
She gripped it in her hand.

This necklace was not merely an ornament.
It was everything she had built until now.
It was everything she was meant to build in the future.

It was what defined her.
A symbol worthy of the name Saintess—no, it was her very self.
“I, Erzena...”

She clutched the necklace even tighter.
And with that...
“...will no longer remain as the Saintess.”

She cast it aside.
— Thud.
The ornament dropped powerlessly to the floor.

Without even glancing at the faded golden jewel, she looked toward the sunlight pouring through the high window and said:
“And I will begin again—from the lowest place.”
Let her begin again.

Not as Erzena the Saintess, worshiped through fanaticism and arrogance—
—but as Erzena, a woman who truly loves God.
And for that, there was one last thing she had to do.

Erzena spoke with a trembling voice:
“I hereby dismiss myself from my position.”
To be born anew, she let everything go.

“S-She’s lost her mind...”
“Blasphemy...!!!”
Gasps of shock erupted throughout the courtroom.
A Saintess deposing herself.

How unholy. How ominous. How utterly sacrilegious.
The courtroom broke into murmurs at this unprecedented event.
Mohaim stood frozen, his face pale, barely able to remain on his feet.

— You wretched girl!!!! You think you can defy us and get away with it?!
At last, the Pope could no longer contain his fury. He slammed his hand on the desk and roared.
— Don’t delude yourself into thinking anyone will take in a woman abandoned by God! You arrogant girl!!!

But in that instant—
— FWOOSH.
A single ray of sunlight broke through the window and shone directly upon Erzena.

“Guh...!”
“Th-The light...!”
So blinding it made everyone wince.
Even the darkest corners of the courtroom were lit.

And that beam of light—it had color.
A brilliant, radiant hue.
“G-Golden...”
“Dear God.”

Everyone understood what it meant.
God had cast His light upon Erzena.
To the woman who had denied the Church, denied herself, denied divine power itself—He gave this sign.

Faced with this contradiction, everyone was struck silent.
“What... is this?”
Erzena, too, was no less bewildered.

‘What on earth is happening?’
A sudden blessing of light—something she had never experienced before.
Not even when she was first chosen as Saintess had the light shone this strongly.

Unable to endure the radiance, she bowed her head and looked down at her hand.
“...!”
And there, she saw it.

Golden shimmer surging in her palm.
She felt it.
A warmth like sunlight.

She turned her head slowly.
Divine power was swelling all around her.
Brighter than ever. More golden than ever.

“Ahh...”
Erzena knew.
Her divine power had not only returned—it had grown even greater.

And in that moment—
— CRACK!
One of the Holy Relics on the Pope’s wrist fractured.

— Th-The Bracelet of Faluba—!!
At the same time, the Pope’s divine power withered drastically.
He hurriedly turned the scrying crystal away—but it was too late. Everyone had already seen it.

Erzena, watching him, spoke softly:
“This is His will.”
The atmosphere shifted in an instant.

It had become undeniable.
Who it was that held God’s favor now.
Erzena’s golden eyes gleamed with a brilliance they had never held before.

And at that moment—
“Permission to speak.”
Nathan rose from his seat.

All eyes turned to him.
It was time to bring the curtain down.