Damn, I recarneted As A Judge in Fantasy World

In the first place, aren't miracles, revelations, and prophecies the main specialties of priests?

Why on earth would he come to me looking for something like that?

Although I was speechless, I decided to listen to the story anyway. The church might be dealing with a problem too big to solve on its own.

"I am always grateful to the Aramid Order. They helped me imprison the half-demon, and they are always kind to the people."

Of course, I was a little disappointed when the plague broke out. They knew the nobles were trying to monopolize the clergy, but they ignored it.

Of course, it wasn't that I didn't understand. If they just appeared indifferent, the church could benefit enormously by sucking up donations from the nobles.

Anyway, that's all in the past. I didn't really hold it against them.

"That's too much praise. We are simply following Aramid's wishes."

"But what kind of prophecy is this all of a sudden? Is there anything unpleasant going on internally…?"

"There are some minor issues, but they aren't serious enough to cause the church to tilt. I, as a bishop, can guarantee that."

The Aramid Cult was the largest religious group in the Empire, but it wasn't enough to establish a papacy. Even when the imperial power weakened, the political scene was too intense for religion to interfere.

Anyway, the leader of the Aramid Order was only the Archbishop. The one who came to me was the second-in-command, Bishop Braulio.

Although a fairly influential person visited, I couldn't just accept his request.

"Now, I want to hear your real purpose."

"I heard the story of how you resolved the territorial dispute in Mesqueta Mountain."

"Where?"

"You know, Valdei, the border of the Countship of Justino."

At the time, I didn't think much of it, but everything the two counts told me was nonsense.

Isn't this place called by a different name?

'They lied about their nomination just to get a favorable verdict?'

Now that I think about it, they were both really narrow-minded people.

"Ah! It was a territorial dispute."

"Yes, you predicted a catastrophe just by taking a quick look."

"Oh my."

I ended up hitting my forehead.

Didn't I clearly explain that I used the land classification method I learned from Adam?

Of course, there's no such thing, but it seems like the rumor is spreading in a strange way again. Everyone was talking about me being a saint or a god, and now they're even saying I can prophesize?

I was terrified of what would come next. I shook my head vigorously and made sure to emphasize, "I never made any prophecies. I just looked at the ground carefully and noticed the danger early."

"But if you could stop by the church once and say something nice…"

"You haven't told me your real purpose yet."

I cut off Bishop Braulio's words. I couldn't afford to listen to this nonsense any longer. There's already a mountain of pending trials.

After a while, the mouth that had been hesitating finally opened.

"I heard that, thanks to Your Highness the Duke's selection, the number of people living in poverty has decreased."

"I can't say that people are eating well and living well. It's just that fewer people are starving to death."

"No one has solved the problem of poverty. No matter how hard the church tried, it was useless."

That goes without saying.

For the lower classes to improve their standard of living, society itself must change.

The gap between rich and poor in medieval England was so dire that it cannot even be compared to that of modern world. It was the same in the Empire of Enfer, a dark fantasy world.

No, it might have been much worse.

There are monsters here. Even going to the mountains to dig up grass roots and eat them meant risking one's life.

'But why is this person talking so much?'

Usually, if someone's meaning isn't clear, it means they have an inner feeling that's difficult to express.

I looked straight at the person who was just rambling nonsense.

"So what anyway?"

"The church is having a hard time these days. It's because believers are superstitious."

"Huh? Superstitious?"

"Haven't you been hearing it a lot lately? People are saying that His Highness the Duke is a saint or a god."

"Ah, that…"

It's not like I started the rumor; how could I stop people from talking?

Moreover, I gave a clear explanation. They just didn't listen.

"Ah! Of course, I do not mean to blame Your Highness. The late Duke and Duchess were believers of Aramid, so I asked if you would visit by chance."

I frowned at Bishop Braulio's words. The church did a lot of good things in its own way.

Of course, they used divine powers in exchange for money, but they also did free volunteer work often. So, I had a pretty good image of them.

'Something feels a bit off…'

If I were to interpret the statement just now roughly, it went something like this: Life has gotten better recently, but why aren't donations coming in? It's all because of this weird superstition that you're a saint or a god.

So, solve it myself by visiting the church and proving that I'm a believer.

Of course, I looked at it from a rather twisted perspective, but this was almost exactly what I thought.

They just spoke politely and indirectly.

Their true intentions wouldn't be much different from my interpretation.

I said, looking at the priests with a cold gaze, "Get out."

Bishop Braulio's face stiffened for a brief moment, but he quickly regained his composure. His lips tightened, but he didn't challenge my words. Instead, he slowly stood up from his chair, giving a slight bow as a gesture of respect.

"Your Highness, I apologize if I've offended you. I only wished to speak on behalf of the faithful."

I stayed silent, watching him. His demeanor had shifted; he was no longer the insistent clergyman trying to negotiate his way through the conversation. Now, he was cautious, almost calculating. The veil of religious humility had slipped for a second, and what I saw beneath it was ambition.

"As I said before, I understand your dedication to Aramid's teachings, but perhaps the Duke's presence at a service would calm the people. Superstitions grow stronger in the absence of guidance."

I remained quiet, keeping my eyes on him. He wanted something more than just a public appearance, but he wasn't going to reveal it here. Not in my presence, not with so much at stake. If the church really was struggling with donations, I had little doubt that they were grasping at straws to maintain their influence.

"Your Highness," Braulio continued, voice softer now, "I must remind you that the church has been a steadfast ally to your family for generations. The faithful have looked to the Duke's household for leadership, and in these uncertain times, a show of unity would bring much-needed comfort to the people."

He was playing the loyalty card now, appealing to tradition and obligation. I didn't care.

"I'm not interested in parading around to soothe the people's unfounded beliefs," I said flatly. "If they're superstitious, then perhaps you should ask yourself why your sermons aren't working."

Braulio blinked at my response, and for the first time, he looked genuinely taken aback.

I could tell he didn't expect such bluntness. Perhaps he assumed he could manipulate me through the weight of religious influence, but I wasn't about to be swayed by vague insinuations of divine duty.

"The church should focus on its own matters, Bishop Braulio. If donations are low, find another way to fill your coffers. I will not serve as a tool for your manipulation of the masses."

There was a flicker of something in Braulio's eyes. Anger? Resentment? He suppressed it well, but I could feel it lingering just beneath the surface. Still, he kept his voice calm.

"As you wish, Your Highness. We will continue to do our part, as always."

He gave another bow, this one far deeper than the first, before turning and making his way out of the room. The sound of his footsteps echoed in the silence after he left, and I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples.

The church was growing desperate, and that meant they'd soon start pulling more tricks to secure their power. If they couldn't squeeze the nobles for donations, they'd turn to the people. But using me as their pawn? That wouldn't happen.

The real question was: How far would they go?

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