Chapter 5. Corruption (1) Part-1

Thoma was looking over the abbey's most recent financial records in his office.

"It's… not adding up."

Money was definitely missing. No matter how many times he re-checked, more than half of the donations were gone. The only conclusion he could come to was this being another case of embezzlement.

'Brother Faron again…?'

Thoma had his doubts. There wasn't any reason for Faron to repeat his crime.

"I have to look into this myself."

Thoma rose from his seat and quickly made his way to the chapel. Upon entering, he was greeted by an all too familiar scene. Everyone was gathered in a crowd around two shouting men.

"Didn't you steal it again?! I saw you!"

"What are you talking about? I did it…? Lies! I only said something because I saw you taking it! And now you're trying to turn the crime back on me!"

While the shouting match continued, Thoma heard two nuns near the door whispering back and forth.

"Was it Brother Faron again….?"

"Yes, I saw it myself."

"Oh my, how shameless!"

He sighed internally. It was obvious that something had just happened to the donations again.

'Could it be that Brother Faron stole from the donations again!'

Thoma pushed through the crowd and pulled the two bickering men apart.

"Please stop fighting, you two. What is it this time?"

The young monk immediately shouted. "Brother Faron stole money again! The donations!"

Hearing this Thoma let out a groan, but a flustered Faron shook his head in earnest denial.

"No, Brother Thoma! It was I who witnessed him! I watched that bastard take money out of the donation box, so I warned him quietly to return what he took! But instead, the bastard suddenly…!"

Thoma blinked in surprise. Sure, Faron's denial couldn't simply be taken at face value, but he did sound more sincere than last time. Rather than an act, it felt like he was actually the victim here. His voice may have sounded panicked, but he pleaded with sincerity and his gaze did not waver as it had before. To be absolutely certain Thoma looked into his soul and saw that it was blue. This was a soul free of deception. He was telling the truth.

Thoma couldn't hide his surprise.

'… It wasn't Brother Faron?'

"Then who…?"

He was starting to find this entire situation all too suspicious.

"Haha, yes. That's right!" the young monk exclaimed. "I must've been mistaken. Brother Faron wouldn't have committed the same crime twice."

The young monk's anger vanished in an instant and now he was suddenly contradicting himself, leaving Thoma thoroughly confused. His breathing was erratic, his lips were chapped, and sweat was starting to form on his forehead. The young monk had gone from confident to a nervous wreck in a matter of seconds.

Thoma finally looked at the young man's soul. It was dyed red.

"That's not true!" Faron shouted. "I watched the bastard touch the money and stopped him! This kid is putting on an act! Brother Thoma! Please… please believe me!"

Thoma heard his pleas and looked around at the crowd surrounding them. Most of the monks and nuns turned away from his gaze. They were afraid of meeting Thoma's eyes. Their unease was palpable, as they fidgeted around nervously.

The young monk drew closer to Thoma's side.

"Ha, I see. Yes, yes! I understand now. Tsk…! Brother Thoma, we should just overlook this incident."

"Eh?"

The young monk whispered in his ear. "Seeing as this is all Brother Faron's fault again… we should just pretend it didn't happen. It would be troublesome if the problem became larger than it already is."

'What… what is this man saying? He wants to overlook this incident? What crime had Brother Faron committed here…?'

All around him, the other monks and nuns began to chime in.

"Yes, Brother Faron is guilty this time as well."

"That must be it."

"I saw him as well. Brother Faron did it."

They were all lying. Thoma couldn't hide his dismay.

"Why are you all lying?"

Everyone froze in surprise at his question. Still, they couldn't look him in the eye.

"Let's stop here!" The young monk pleaded. "We're all tired of this. For this minor thing…!"

What were they tired of? What filled them with such discontent? Just what was so…

Thoma was struck with a sudden epiphany. "Why did all of you… steal the donations?" He mumbled the last part under his breath.

The perpetrator hadn't been Faron. Rather, everyone else here were the true thieves. Thoma was aware of this. They had colluded, lied, and ostracized an unfortunate fellow to commit this wrong.

'This is wrong! You all know this isn't right!'

Before the words could escape his lips, a nun burst through the door of the chapel.

"Brother Thoma!" "Pope S-salem… has arrived!"

***

Pope Salem Gottschuranche surveyed the office. He dragged his index finger across Thoma's dust-caked desk, frowning at the large amount of filth stuck to his finger. He wiped the grime off with a handkerchief and tossed it into the trash bin. Thoma, who was sitting on the other side of the desk, finally broke the silence.

"It has been a while, Your Holiness. What brings you to this backwater land…?"

Salem responded with a smile. "It's been a while, Sir Hero. You've aged quite a bit."

"The same could be said of you, Your Holiness."

Salem adjusted his posture several times, having trouble getting comfortable on the hard chair.

"Ah… In the past I would have considered this chair more comfortable than most. This is a bit awkward. It seems I've grown too accustomed to the luxuries that come with being the Pope; plush chairs are one such example.."

"Is that so?"

"Don't be so formal with me. Aren't you the Hero of the past? I am merely a humble priest."

Thoma scratched the back of his head. "I am just another man of the cloth as well, and Lord Salem is now His Holiness."

"Still, it will make me feel more comfortable if you ignore such formalities."

Thoma reluctantly nodded. "Yes, I shall… No. Ugh. Okay."

"It's awkward, isn't it." Salem asked with a chuckle.

"Well, you're not wrong. That's just how it is."

Thoma feigned a smile while Salem nodded in agreement.

"That is indeed how it is. The contrast is stark, after all. One was once a Hero, but became a common monk in some small, backwater abbey. The other was just another man of the cloth, but eventually rose to the top of the Church's hierarchy, ruling over the continent."

Thoma was feeling increasingly uncomfortable as Salem spoke. He remained silent as the Pope continued.

"Looking at it this way, it feels like there must be a God guiding us. No, there is one…" Salem smiled. "He has always been watching over us, bestowing upon his believers small miracles—though it appears as if only those He selects may reap the rewards. Not you, but someone like me."

Thoma frowned. "Salem, just what are you…"

"It's just the drivel of an aging man!" He exclaimed. "Why listen to it so seriously?"

Salem turned to look out the office window. He could see the children playing outside.

"How many children reside in this abbey?"

Thoma sighed with relief at the change of topic, and replied. "There are eight."

"Oh, that's quite a few," Salem mused. Are any of them above the age of thirteen…?"

Thoma forced himself to answer, despite knowing what was coming. "… There are three now."

"Then it's time for them to start paying taxes."

Thoma's face froze.

"This abbey's taxes are already four months behind. Other churches and abbeys pay right on time, the sole exception being your abbey. This makes things difficult. Very difficult, for me that is. If other priests noticed this, they might begin to suspect an unsavory relationship between you and I. As the Pope, I must treat all fairly. Normally, there'd be an investigation after a month or two of missed payments. I've been putting it off on purpose, but… I don't know if that's possible any longer."