24 Never Forget

Inside the frigid Tribunal, two Cardinals stood in silent confrontation.

Though it was not raining outside, the atmosphere between them was far from amicable.

"You need not look at me with such eyes; I have done nothing wrong."

Bishop Rusty-Nail stepped slowly from the shadows, the rivets piercing his skin clinking softly against each other with every move, creating a rhythmic, unsettling sound.

"The seal has been disturbed. His Eminence the Archbishop is personally overseeing the situation, and we have been ordered to identify the corrupted monks. That is something we both understand clearly."

"He is an outsider, and his suspicion is the greatest. I did not seize him outright, and merely probing him in secret was already a measure of restraint made for your sake."

Although Herbert was largely unaware of it, his status in the eyes of the monastery’s high command was quite unique.

He was the second son of the Duke of Silver-Wing.

Throughout the history of the monastery, there had been monks of noble birth, but most were either destitute nobles with nowhere else to turn or minor aristocrats forcibly sent there for reformation after violating the code.

Herbert was the only noble in nearly two hundred years to voluntarily apply to join the Monastery of Mists.

Moreover, he was the powerful heir to a prominent kingdom noble!

As for whether he truly committed the sin of "desecrating the princess," everyone knew the truth; no one truly treated him as a criminal.

Not to mention the Oath of Purity he swore later, which served as powerful proof of his innocence.

He was innocent.

Yet, regardless of Herbert’s purity, he remained a special existence, making it difficult to treat him exactly like everyone else.

Was he truly framed? Or did he harbor other motives?

The Kingdom of Frost-Crystal had for years sought to extend its reach into the Monastery of Mists, and the attempt to groom a bishop with royal backing was nothing new.

The monastery’s leadership was well aware of the royal family’s petty schemes, but they did not intervene, tacitly allowing these minor maneuvers to continue.

Monks were supposed to be detached from worldly concerns, dedicating their remaining lives to order and fighting for justice.

However, they were not entirely cut off from the world. Unable to be fully self-sufficient, the monks still required support from others.

While the monastery held the gods in reverence and accepted their blessings, they were not servants of the gods.

The Monastery of Mists was not a religious church; it did not specifically worship any single deity, nor would it engage in war for the sake of the gods. They fought only for the justice and order of the world.

Even religious churches required donations from followers to sustain their operations, and a monastery without such devotees was even more reliant on support.

The monastery accepted generous donations from nobles and, when necessary, dispatched its knights to help them resolve minor issues.

Of course, these were matters that did not involve their core principles.

Things such as suppressing bandits ravaging a territory, hunting monsters that endangered the populace, or garrisoning the border between human lands and monster territories.

The monastery did not wish for the kingdom’s reach to extend too far; maintaining the status quo was sufficient.

That was why, after becoming a Paladin, Herbert was promptly tossed into the prison for alien races to serve as a warden.

The position appeared significant—responsible for guarding important alien prisoners—but it offered little contact with other monks, making it impossible for him to build influence or connections.

It was a promotion in name but a demotion in reality; though it seemed prestigious, it held no real power, effectively curbing certain possibilities.

Yet, when the monastery’s leadership made this decision, none of them imagined that this position was exactly what Herbert desired.

Surrounded by alien beauties, he couldn't have been happier.

"But he is no longer an outsider."

Bishop Thorn gave a soft snort, his voice low. "From the moment he swore his oath before the gods and received their blessing, he became a member of the monastery."

Bishop Rusty-Nail stared at him with dead, fish-like eyes after Bishop Thorn finished speaking. After a long silence, he said slowly:

"...You clearly agreed with my actions before. Do not make it look as if I am deliberately targeting him now."

"Hmph! I care not for that."

Bishop Thorn’s expression remained unchanged. He waved his hand, his smooth, bald head gleaming, and said in a low voice: "Now that you have probed him, is there any further issue?"

Bishop Rusty-Nail did not answer, merely narrowing his eyes at his rogue-like colleague.

A long time passed before he sighed, somewhat powerlessly.

"His spirit is exceptionally resilient. He was barely influenced by me. Beyond the Blessing of Purity, he must possess some magical artifact that protects the soul—one of at least legendary grade."

"Hm?"

Bishop Thorn’s expression shifted slightly. He frowned and asked: "Then everything he said earlier was a lie?"

Was it all just a disguise?

Had he been deceived by him?

That shouldn't be!

He had been the Chief Inquisitor for so many years; how could he fail to distinguish truth from lies?

"No, you were not deceived. Everything he said was the truth buried in the depths of his heart."

"And that was merely a fraction; a much larger part has yet to be triggered."

Bishop Rusty-Nail recalled the sense of resentment and fury he had felt, and sighed with a touch of emotion.

"As a young man who was wronged, he desperately needs a battle to prove himself, to use the honor of victory to sustain his spirit..."

He paused, shaking his head. "His subconscious even hopes for a glorious sacrifice to wash away his grievances."

Once these words were spoken, both Cardinals fell silent.

Sacrifice.

To clear one's name through death.

Everyone fears death; even among Paladins, not everyone possesses the conviction to sacrifice themselves.

No further explanation was needed for them to sense the immense pressure Herbert carried on his soul.

Though he showed not a trace of it on the surface, he had not forgotten the events of the past for a single day, burying them deep within his heart.

"Did you find out who is persecuting him?"

"I did, but I will not tell you. This is not a matter we should meddle in."

"...Hah, I understand." Bishop Thorn snorted coldly, curling his lip in disdain. "It seems he is a big shot who carries some weight in the kingdom."

Bishop Rusty-Nail shook his head, offering no further explanation, and instead said: "Now, we can confirm that Herbert is indeed innocent. He is not a corrupted soul and can be trusted."

"Just as the Archbishop said, he is an excellent seed. I will recruit him into the Knight Order when it expands next."

"Indeed, he is an excellent... hm?"

Bishop Thorn froze for a moment, then flew into a rage, pointing at his unscrupulous colleague. "You want to poach him!? Absolutely not! Don't you forget, he belongs to my Tribunal!"

*Damn old man, what are you trying to do!!?*

"Hah."

Bishop Rusty-Nail sneered, ignoring the Bishop’s fury entirely, and turned to walk away without looking back.

As he walked, he whispered faintly:

"And you, for heaven's sake, do not forget."

"Herbert is a Paladin."

"A punisher monk like you... could never teach him. Hah!"