Salem turned around to face Thoma.
"You bastard, why have you changed so much?" Thoma asked. "You used to be so kind and caring. Why…?"
Salem spoke with a smile. "Hah, just what are you talking about? What change? I'm the same person I've always been."
"Salem!"
"Thoma!"
Pope Salem Gottschuranche smashed his fist down onto the desk once again while glaring at Thoma.
"There was once a time when I idolized you! Truly, I did. To the point that I worshipped you in place of our God! As a priest, I abandoned God and put my faith in you! The Hero who had slain the Demon Lord! The symbol of heroism! I felt it praiseworthy for a commoner to reach such heights through effort alone! Because of you, I believed that anyone could succeed with enough effort. That was why I worshipped you so! However…" Salem moved his trembling face right in front of Thoma's, close enough that Thoma could feel Salem's hot, rage-filled breath. "You tricked me."
"Tricked? Salem, I…!"
"For so long I believed that you were a commoner! A commoner who, against all odds, had succeeded in slaying the Demon Lord. Doesn't it sound like a story straight out of a fairy tale? I loved such tales! If a commoner could accomplish such feats, then why couldn't I? But…" Salem's body shuddered, "but… you weren't a king or a noble; neither a priest nor a commoner… The entire time, you were nothing more than a pathetic, runaway slave!"
Thoma stood in stunned silence.
"I finally understood why no kingdom would support you after our triumphant return. It wasn't that they couldn't but, rather, they wouldn't. The Hero sent to die returning alive? They must have felt it wasteful to support some slave pretending to be a Hero any more than they already had. Lower than even a commoner, a simple slave becoming strong enough to defeat the Demon Lord? If such a story were to spread, slaves and commoners alike might rise up! The hierarchy of our world would be thrown into disarray; everyone would hope for more than they deserve, thinking they too could live like a noble or king!"
Spittle flew from his mouth as he screamed. "Know your place! Act in a way that befits your station! If you're a slave then don't pretend to be anything more! The least you could have done was hide away for the rest of your miserable life… Instead, you shattered my faith by pretending to be a Hero! Sometime after our fight with the Demon Lord, I learned the truth that you had kept from me; I still remember how it sent shivers down my spine. A slave… a mere slave… I… We… had been tricked!"
Thoma grit his teeth in an attempt to soothe his raging emotions. Salem, on the other hand, was visibly overwhelmed. He shook his head and forcefully calmed his ragged breathing, trying to regain his composure.
"Haah," he huffed, "all those memories of listening and smiling to every word you said, the words of a meager slave… I didn't realize how humiliated that memory would make me feel…"
"Salem, you've said too much. You may be my former companion, but to insult me to this extent-"
"I feel sick thinking about it even now," Salem said, interrupting Thoma.
"Salem!" Thoma yelled, unable to contain his anger any longer.
"A mere slave dares to threaten the Pope-?!" Salem stopped himself from finishing what he had started to say. "… I apologize. I've overstepped my bounds. I'll come again some other time, Sir Hero." Knowing he could no longer control himself, he hurried to leave the office. "Ah, and one more thing before I go… The demons have finally brought forth this generation's 'Demon Lord'."
Thoma felt his stomach drop at the news.
"The battle against the Demon Lord will begin once again, which means…" Salem paused for emphasis, "the tax rate will rise from 40% to 60%. We plan to conscript enough soldiers to wipe out the demons once and for all, so we're going to need more funds for the troops' equipment. We all need to do our part and support the new Heroes to come." Salem opened the door, stopping to say one last thing. "… This is all for the sake of the world, Brother Thoma. I hope that you will step up and cooperate with the younger generation."
The Pope bowed deeply. Others might have been astonished to witness such a scene—the Pope himself in deference to a simple monk—but Thoma felt no respect in Salem's action. He knew Salem was not bowing out of sincerity. He was mocking him.
***
Salem glowered upon exiting the room.
"How dare he act so virtuous!"
Suddenly, he sensed a presence approaching him from behind.
"U-um…"
A nun with pale hair and red eyes was carrying a tray of tea. She shivered as he stared at her, which meant that she must have seen his outburst just now.
Realizing that he hadn't been controlling his expression, Salem quickly returned to wearing a pleasant smile.
"I apologize if I startled you, dear sister."
Ellie looked at him wordlessly, still somewhat frightened.
"… I leave Sir Hero in your care."
Salem patted Ellie's shoulder and walked past her, continuing down the hall.
Ellie hurriedly opened the door and entered the office. She saw Thoma leaning on his desk with his eyes closed while pinching his brow.
"Um… Sir Monk?"
Hearing Ellie, Thoma looked up.
"Are you okay…?" she asked, concerned.
Thoma smiled at her, but his smile looked weary.
***
Salem was watching as the abbey he had just left slowly grew smaller in the distance. Despite having been built a mere twenty years ago, the building looked as if it had weathered a century's worth of dilapidation. It was honestly surprising that the abbey hadn't collapsed already. Such a shabby and worn down building could hardly be considered a House of God.
"That's right. The place looks old enough to fall over at any moment. God might be angered if we worship him in that sad excuse for an abbey." Salem said, before looking toward the priests beside him. "How is the investigation going…?"
"As far as we've discerned, there is no evidence that Thoma has stolen any of the donations or tax money. Rather, there appears to have been multiple cases of other monks and nuns embezzling the abbey's funds."
The priests had managed to finish their investigation within the span of a few hours. This speed was due to the priests' position directly under the Pope, which they used to pressure and interrogate the monks and nuns under Thoma. Their lies were flimsy and they were all spineless. The priests simply had to raise their voices and watch as a monk or nun they were questioning cracked under the pressure, divulging all they knew. On top of being cowardly, they had noted that the monks and nuns of this abbey tended to be quite selfish. They turned on their fellow brothers and sisters all too easily in the hopes of avoiding punishment.
"It is truly regrettable. Since it seems that Sir Hero himself is innocent… even though he's a dirty, thieving slave? There is no greater hypocrite. He managed to go so far with the filthy blood of a slave…"
"There's more…"
Salem turned to the Holy Knight that spoke, intrigued.
"Thoma has been seeking a healer."
"A healer?" Salem asked.
"Yes, it seems that he recently sought out a pharmacist."
"Why…?" When Salem inquired further, the priests only shook their heads. They didn't have an answer.
Salem smiled at this small bit of information. His intuition told him this was more than a simple checkup.
"Well, there must be a reason. We can take our time figuring it out. Yes, bit by bit…"
Salem looked back toward the old abbey one last time, "we can crush him beneath our feet."
***