He was surrounded by clerics who had long opposed her. Even from a distance it was clear from their solemn expressions that they had come well prepared for this evening.

Tilda gently released Calles’ hand and stepped forward, making her way alone to the highest platform in the Great Hall.

As the host of the evening’s festivities, it was her duty to give the opening address.

Breaking the silence, Tilda spoke.

“Today is the sacred day when the Goddess bestowed the divine flame upon the world.”

The crowd, once murmuring and restless, fell silent. All eyes turned to her.

“Originally, His Holiness the Pope – my maternal grandfather – was to have presided over today’s celebration of the Holy Flame, but as you all know, he is currently away, so I am here in his stead.”

Whether her grandfather despised her or eventually chose to replace her, for now she was still the legitimate successor.

And there was no one who could deny that.

“May the blessings of the Goddess continue to watch over this realm.”

She concluded, marking the formal beginning of the evening’s festivities. As she reached for the ceremonial chalice on the platform – ready to raise it and begin the celebration in earnest -a voice interrupted her.

“Excuse me. I have something to say.”

It was Glenn Godleaux.

“Before we begin this sacred celebration permitted by the Goddess herself, I would like to take this opportunity to expose the rot festering within the Grand Temple – and to speak to all those gathered here tonight.”

‘Rot…?’

The crowd’s gaze tightened, all eyes on Glenn and the bold interruption he had made.

“The Papal See is the most honourable and important position in the Empire, and today Lady Tilda stands here in place of His Holiness.”

He paused for effect and the priests supporting him subtly closed ranks around him, like a silent wall of pressure.

“But we must ask ourselves – does Lady Tilda really have the right to represent His Holiness?”

Calles stood with his arms crossed, watching Glenn Godleaux ‘s instigation with a look of amusement on his face. He looked like he was enjoying a foreign bullfight.

‘It always ends with the bull being killed anyway.’

But Calles was the only one who remained calm. The other priests who did not share Glenn’s views looked uneasy, but none dared to intervene.

It was Glenn Godleaux, after all, who was ruining the joyful and festive atmosphere of the celebration. He was notorious for holding grudges and drawing strict lines between allies and enemies.

Getting on his bad side now could make a cleric’s life miserable. Nevertheless, someone finally stepped forward.

It was Ross Port.

One of the other High Priests, Ross had seen enough. Unable to watch Glenn ruin the party any further, he finally intervened.

“Lord Glenn, do you really think this is the right occasion to raise such a matter?”

“It is because everyone is gathered here that it needs to be addressed. Lord Ross, do you really think it is right to allow an unworthy leader to preside over this sacred celebration – the Holy Flame Day, a day of thanksgiving to the Goddess?”

In an instant, the atmosphere in the hall froze. Even the Emperor and members of the Imperial Family hesitated, unsure of the wisdom of intervening.

The question of the papal seat was a delicate one. In fact, it was the imperial family who were most concerned about the question of the next pope.

For the pope had the power to appoint the next emperor. The moment when everyone else held their breath in confusion, Tilda alone remained calm.

“If I, the designated successor of His Holiness the Pope, am unfit to take his place, then I wonder – who do you think is fit?”

Glenn Godleaux frowned at her answer, clearly displeased.

“Lady Tilda is indeed His Holiness’ only heir and blood relative. She possesses an exemplary grasp of theology and doctrine worthy of the admiration of all priests. However, as everyone here is well aware, her reputation is tainted by too many blemishes.”

“…”

“She was responsible for the death of Lady Celestia, once a papal heir herself. And most recently, society was in an uproar over the late Duke Mumbles Belmont. A man who pretended to be a gentleman, but who abused his poor wife behind closed doors – what a scoundrel! And yet Lady Tilda, as his daughter, remains untouched by the consequences. Can we really say that doesn’t matter?”

His supporters nodded in agreement.

Many in the crowd, quietly harbouring similar suspicions, relaxed their guard and began to give Glenn their full attention.

“Besides, Lady Tilda has no trace of divine power. There has never been a pope in history without it! Doesn’t that prove that the Goddess herself does not recognise her as the rightful heir?”

There have indeed been a few priests without divine power, but none of the current high clergy lacked it.

Some had even wondered where Tilda’s once abundant divine power had gone – but she had never told anyone.

But she had never told anyone what had really happened to her. It was a story as beautiful – and as cruel – as something out of a fairy tale. And too absurd to believe.

“Several of us within the Grand Temple, myself included, have written an official statement declaring that we no longer recognise Lady Tilda as the rightful successor.”

At his signal, one of the priests standing beside him stepped forward and unrolled a scroll.

Sure enough, the names of numerous priests were listed — beginning with Glenn himself — all voicing their opposition to Tilda’s succession.

“Everyone whose name appears here has pledged to resign from the clergy if Lady Tilda does not step down from her position as successor.”

Tilda said nothing in response. She simply listened, calm and composed. Seeing this, Glenn thought to himself, ‘She’s trying to act unfazed, but her face must be burning right now. She had probably never imagined that someone would dare cause such a scene in front of the entire Empire.

Glenn Godleaux had held a grudge for a long time. Ever since Tilda started attending every Grand Temple meeting, his pride had been severely wounded.

As someone who took great pride in his theological knowledge and saw himself as a devoted servant of the Goddess, he simply couldn’t accept that Tilda had greater scholarly insight than him.

While Aklaire may have instructed Glenn to undermine Tilda’s position within the temple, Driven by spite, Glenn had gone even further, carefully planning this moment. Convincing the more naïve and ambitious priests had not been difficult.

Now that a formal statement has been made, even the person officially appointed as the Pope’s successor cannot simply ignore the matter.

‘How will you escape this thorny trap?’

Glenn Godleaux smirked inwardly.

Glancing around, he easily spotted Aklaire in the crowd, watching the chaos unfold. When their eyes met, she gave him a small, pleased smile, as if approving of his performance.

Then, unexpectedly, Tilda spoke.

“Do you know how many people take the exam every year in the hope of becoming a priest?”

It seemed like a sudden, unrelated question. But Glenn’s supporters, understanding the implication, flinched slightly.

“You’ve come so far, only to throw it all away so carelessly. Led astray by cunning whispers, mistaking them for pride and honor.”

“Cunning whispers? That’s outrageous! You’ve committed a serious offence by challenging the authority of the successor in such an official setting.”

Tilda’s cold, icy gaze locked onto him directly.

“If your claims are based on lies, the offence becomes even more serious.”

At the word ‘lies’, a wave of murmurs and tension spread through the room.

It was the first time Tilda had spoken out personally about the countless rumours surrounding her, and everyone in the hall could sense the significance of the moment.

“I’d like to know exactly which of my words you claim are lies!”

Glenn shouted, his voice filled with self-righteous fury.

“That your father was a monster who beat a helpless woman? Or that you caused the death of your own mother, Lady Celestia? There are witnesses — people who saw it with their own eyes! And yet you deny it?”

Tilda took a single step forward, closing the distance between them. She held his gaze, her expression calm and unwavering. For a brief moment, Glenn faltered, but he quickly masked it.

“Neither of those things are true. There was someone behind my mother’s death. And my father never laid a hand on Aklaire Belmont.”

“Someone behind her mother’s death…?”

“Could that be true?”

“If so, why had she remained silent all this time?”

A ripple of shocked whispers spread through the hall like wildfire, turning it into a marketplace of murmurs and speculation.

“Words alone mean nothing.”

Glen responded, trying to appear composed.

“If you knew those claims were false, why have you kept silent until now?”

But Tilda could clearly see the hairline crack forming across Glenn’s façade.

“Because there is a right time for everything.”

With that, Tilda discreetly signalled to Stella, who had been standing quietly to one side holding a rusted candlestick.

Understanding the cue, Stella stepped forward and handed the candlestick to Tilda.

Glenn’s eyes widened in shock the moment he recognised it.

“Th-That’s…”

“This, is a holy relic bestowed by the goddess to punish liars.”

Indeed, what Tilda had brought was one of the Goddess Vallinea’s sacred relics: the Candlestick of Truth.

It had been stored deep within the Papal Treasury.

During her time in the palace, Tilda had quietly sought it out.

Now, she withdrew the dagger hidden within its sh*ft.

“The Goddess granted this blade so that those who spread lies and incite others with falsehoods might be judged by the truth.”

The dagger was no ordinary blade. When used against a liar, it would spill blood without mercy.

However, when it touched someone who spoke the truth, the blade would pass through them harmlessly.

“I have brought this relic to clear my late father’s name and reveal that there was a sinister force behind my mother’s death. His spirit deserves to rest in peace.”

The priests who had supported Glenn swallowed hard.

Seeing Tilda, whom they had just condemned, stand so resolutely and having come this far, they began to realise that they might have been wrong.

“This is not the proper use of such a sacred relic! Did you even receive His Holiness’s permission?”