Jeanne sat in the armchair, recounting her harrowing journey through Iberia to Pope Yvangelista.
She detailed the ubiquitous terror of the Seaborn and the abyssal Terrorfish creeping into every corner of the coast, the terrified Iberian populace trapped in perpetual panic, the administrative collapse of regional cities, the Inquisitors fighting an uphill battle to keep order, and the malicious cultists of the Deep Sea Church manipulating the shadows.
That was the grim reality of modern Iberia. More than once along her path, Jeanne had marvelled at how the nation managed to survive at all. Its leaders and people were clearly pushing themselves past their absolute limits merely to keep their country afloat and ensure their citizens lived to see another day.
"To think the situation has deteriorated to such a grave degree..." Pope Yvangelista murmured. He set down his fork, leaving the cake on his plate untouched. A heavy, somber shadow settled over his features as he weighed the sheer scale of the Iberian crisis. "It seems Carmen was being far too reserved when he described Iberia's circumstances as 'difficult.'"
"The root of the problem is that the coastal residents no longer trust the Inquisition," Jeanne explained. "They lean heavily toward the Deep Sea Church instead—those cultists have twisted Laterano scripture, using food distributions and material relief after every gathering to sway the needy. To starving families, those handouts are more than enough to flip their allegiance!"
That was the key vulnerability Jeanne had uncovered. In numerous settlements, the Deep Sea Church had essentially usurped the local government, covertly running the towns from behind the curtain. The cult was no longer a fringe threat; it was deeply rooted in the nation's bedrock.
Even though Jeanne had managed to obliterate a major stronghold of the Deep Sea Church during her travels, it barely dented their influence. They had a second stronghold, a third, and dozens more hidden across the coastline. Striking one outpost was a mere temporary setback for fanatical cultists.
"A truly thorny dilemma..." Pope Yvangelista agreed, nodding slowly. "I will raise this point during the grand council and press for a unified solution. Yet resolving it through sheer force is nearly impossible. Sending armies will not cure this infection. We in Laterano know all too well how terrifying a misdirected faith can become once it takes root."
Even within the pristine walls of the Holy City, fanatic cults were not entirely unheard of. No matter how idyllic Laterano's environment was, individuals driven to extremes by personal misfortune still existed.
Laterano maintained specialized departments to handle heresy, and the Notarial Restructure Institute—where Executive Executors like 'Executor' served—frequently investigated and purged extremist cult cells. They understood far too well how terrifying fanatics could be when they became utterly immune to reason or force.
So what happened when an entire nation's underbelly was infested with such fanatics? What if those cultists donned a facade of benevolence to steal the hearts of a starving populace?
You couldn't fix that with mass arrests or executions. From a pragmatic standpoint, it seemed like an unwinnable battle—a situation so dire that giving up felt like the only merciful option.
"I have an idea," Jeanne offered, breaking the heavy silence. "It might be a bit unrefined, but perhaps it's worth considering?"
Pope Yvangelista looked up, his interest piqued. Perhaps due to his advancing years, his mind wasn't as nimble as it once was, and he had yet to construct a viable path forward. Any fresh perspective from Jeanne was welcome, no matter how unpolished.
"Even though the Deep Sea Church has infiltrated the coastal regions and deep inland, there is one critical detail working in our favor," Jeanne reasoned. "Their entire doctrine is built upon a distorted version of Laterano faith. That means we hold the foundational key to dismantle their teachings."
That was the opening Jeanne had spotted. The people of Iberia were overwhelmingly devoted to Laterano scripture, with many bordering on fanaticism. The Deep Sea Church had simply exploited that devotion, twisting sacred texts to cultivate their own toxic soil.
"What if we dispatched a mission of Sankta preachers into Iberia?" Jeanne continued. "If our priests step forward to correct those twisted doctrines, the cult will lose its ideological grip over the people. Of course, addressing the local famine and economic ruin is equally vital—people need real food on their plates, not just sermons."
It was a broad concept: send the Sankta—who held the ultimate authority on interpreting the Law—directly onto the frontlines of the ideological war, using their unique standing to unmask the cult's heresy.
Naturally, the plan had plenty of rough edges. Would the Iberian crown ever grant permission for such a large-scale foreign religious presence? How would they guarantee the physical safety of those traveling preachers? These were complex variables Jeanne hadn't fully mapped out.
She couldn't solve a geopolitical crisis on her own, but Laterano was filled with brilliant minds. Working together, they could refine her raw concept into a concrete, effective strategy.
"That is a brilliant proposition!" Pope Yvangelista's eyes lit up as he grasped the potential. "If Iberia agrees to grant us entry and guarantees the safety of our missionaries, this could work!"
The old man stroked his beard, a wry grin spreading across his face. "And if they lack the personnel to protect our priests, Laterano can supply the manpower. We have plenty of Apostolic Knights idling about with nothing better to do. Sending them out as 'missionaries' sounds like an exceptional idea."
Jeanne blinked, keeping her mouth shut while offering a silent nod. Inwardly, she was floored by the Pope's sheer audacity.
Sending Apostolic Knights as missionaries?
That was an insane leap of logic. Outsiders would think Laterano was sending clergy to spread the gospel, completely unaware that these 'priests' were heavily armed warriors ready to deliver direct, explosive divine judgment.
Yet when she thought about it more deeply, it made perfect sense. Who said a missionary couldn't carry heavy firepower? They could preach peace and salvation on regular days, and whenever they encountered irredeemable cultists, they could send them straight to the afterlife so the Almighty could reason with them personally.
"Still, executing a plan like this requires careful maneuvering..." Pope Yvangelista cautioned, his tone turning reflective once more. "First and foremost, we must secure Iberia's consent. Even if their state is teetering on the brink of ruin, they remain a sovereign nation. Pride is a difficult thing for rulers to set aside."
He spread his hands helplessly. Laterano had no interest in overstepping its boundaries or forcing its will upon another sovereign state.
"Well, that's for you brilliant leaders to figure out," Jeanne said with a playful wink, making it clear that policy negotiations were way beyond her pay grade.
"Indeed, leaving these headache-inducing affairs to us old folks is how it should be," Pope Yvangelista chuckled softly, looking at her with fatherly warmth. "The whole point of our lifelong struggles is to ensure young people like you can enjoy your youth without carrying the weight of the world."
The conversation shifted to lighter topics, with the two sharing stories and reminiscing over past events.
The Pope mentioned that Victoria was currently in total disarray over the grand council invitation. The noble houses were locked in bitter disputes because no single duke could claim the right to represent the nation. Every faction craved the prestige of standing as the voice of Victoria, yet none would allow a rival duke to seize that honor.
To claim that seat meant declaring to all of Terra that one represented the supreme authority of Victoria. For such a monumental prize, the Grand Dukes were practically at each other's throats.
Under normal circumstances, Victoria would have simply declined the invitation to save face. However, once word broke that both Yan and Ursus had agreed to attend, the Victorian nobility realized that boycotting the summit was out of the question.
As a result, their parliament remained paralyzed by endless bickering. Pope Yvangelista even joked that the start date of the entire global summit depended entirely on when the Victorians finished arguing among themselves.
Throughout their chat, the Pope steered the topic toward lighter matters, sensing that Jeanne was carrying a heavy burden. The journey through Iberia had clearly exposed her to terrible truths—things so grim she needed time to process them before deciding how much to reveal.
When it came time to depart, Jeanne finally produced a confidential item, placing it gently into the old man's hands.
Observing the grave, solemn shift in Pope Yvangelista's expression as he received it, Jeanne offered a quiet farewell and stepped out of the office.