[Snippet] Making the Church Competent Through the Power of Faith!(Gacha): Chapter 12

Griselda walked through the halls of the Burial Agency.

It was rather nostalgic; despite only having been positioned here for so little, it felt like a decade already.

It was almost like her first time marching through the decrepit bunker towards the upstart Cardinal’s office to lay down the law.

Or, whatever it is, the other cardinals were expecting of her. 

Now, though, things were different.

Quite literally in the way everything looked.

The place had been cleaned up to the point where there weren’t spider webs at every corner and layers of dust that looked almost alive in the right light.

Yes, everything was different now. Cleaned, organized, immaculate.

Except for the fresh blood that painted the walls. 

She would have been more concerned if it hadn't apparently been done systematically. She was no magician, but she could recognize spiritual and magical symbols and sigils when she saw them.

When she left for a few days after returning from her mission, this wasn't what she expected to return to.

But then again, at this point, she only blamed herself for expecting normalcy here.

She quickly made her way to the Cardinal’s office, seeing the man sitting at his desk.

He looked up, surprised to see her. “Sister, you’ve returned alright. I thought you wouldn’t be back until Monday.”

“It is Monday.” Griselda said dryly.

There was a moment of silence as Lucian processed that information. “Oh.”

“I couldn’t help but notice the blood on the walls, Cardinal.” Griselda stated.

“Yes.”

"...and?"

“I was expanding the building’s defenses, making sure it was all warded. Don’t worry, it was my own blood, Sister.” Lucian spoke casually.

“Cardinal.” Griselda paused as she said his name, needing a second to find the right words. “It being your blood makes it a matter worth worrying about.”

“I had Asia heal me; it’s fine.” Lucian waved it off. “It was good training for her.”

Griselda frowned slightly, about to rebuke him, but then she noticed the dark rings under his eyes. “Cardinal, when was the last time you slept?”

Lucian, who had just looked back down at his documents, had his eyes bounce back up again. “That depends.”

“...depends on what?” She dared to ask.

“What day did you leave again?” He asked without a blank expression.

Griselda let out a long sigh. “Where is Father Anderson?”

“On a mission.”

“By himself?”

Lucian nodded. “I sent him on a string of missions. He is now armed with a few new…techniques, so he was happy to test his new toys.”

“So you sent him out on training.” Griselda nodded.

“Ah, that would have been a good way to convince him. Why didn’t it think of that? Lucian muttered. 

Griselda’s lips thinned. “Lucian, why exactly did you send Father Anderson out on a series of missions?”

Lucian raised his elbows up onto the desk, tapping his fingers together in front of his face. “Money.”

Griselda had to resist the urge to sigh again.

Ironically, church organizations were very survival of the fittest when it came to support from high up.

There wasn’t a ‘reward’ outright for completing missions. There was a convenient payout that the Church gave for a job well done once Father Anderson would come flying back home.

But the Church only supported and gave financial assistance to organizations under its umbrella that showed results.

If you continued to do a good job, you continued to get the support you needed.

If you started to flounder and fall apart, well, the Church would start to pull its funding. If you continued to fail, then the Church was more than willing to abandon you.

It made no difference to the higher-ups because what remained of the organization would be cannibalized by other organizations or maybe a new upstart.

At the end of the day, nothing changed in a negative way for the Church.

Though, on the other side, the Church isn’t unreasonable either. They won’t abandon you at the drop of a hat; you will get multiple chances, and you can even ask for support.

The Church does want the organizations under its umbrella to succeed, after all.

Just as well, as a new organization, the Burial Agency does get some manner of breathing room to organize properly and get on its feet before it starts getting put under a microscope.

Normally, that is.

While they were allowed a small means of leeway, the way that Lucian all but jumped to the highest levels of the Church left his peers angry or annoyed, so he was getting more attention and scrutiny than normal.

There was a trade-off in everything.

As such a new organization, if they showed a bit of results immediately, Lucian could request some proper funding and most likely get accepted.

Thus, Father Anderson was going out and doing missions as quickly as possible.

Look at how good we’re doing with just a few members; give us money, please.

Griselda, for her credit, decided not to think about the implications. “I sent my report in on our latest mission. I was called in front of the usual faces.”

Lucian’s focus was immediately taken by her. “Is that so?”

“They were unhappy that you are still ignoring their summons.” Griselda iterated.

“Was his Holiness present?”

“He was not.”

Lucian nodded. “Then we don’t need to care for now.”

The Pope didn’t attend every weekly meeting by the cardinals, or whatever the time frame was. The issue arrived when the Pope was present because that meant that he was annoyed enough to attend, and that’s when Lucian had to be careful.

“You said you were going to spend time with your daughter as well?” Lucian changed the topic because he didn’t care about the other Cardinals at the moment.

He would put off caring until they found out what he did and threw a tantrum.

Griselda smiled. “I spent the weekend with Xenovia. She was between missions as well, so it was a nice break between everything.”

He remembered that she said she was going on leave to spend time with her daughter after she reported back to the church.

Lucian realized that he seemed to have worked right through the weekend and forgot what day it was.

As if being reminded of the time, it seemingly all came weighing down on him all at once, and he felt very tired.

“I would ask if you had a pleasant weekend as well, but I believe I know the answer to that.” She said dryly, staring at him.

“I’ve been busy.”

“With?” she asked curiously.

“Painting, finger painting actually.”

She rolled her eyes at his joke. “I hope you don’t expect to leave the walls dripping with blood forever.”

Lucian waved it off again. “Once it sets after a couple more days, we can wipe it down and paint over it. It’ll leave enough of a mark underneath that the wards will still work fine.”

She hummed, silently accepting that answer for now.

“How bad is our budget issue, Cardinal?” Griselda finally asked.

“With the amount I had saved up prior to the formation of the agency, we would have been fine through the year if nothing happened.” He tapped his fingers on the desk. “Now though…we'll be lucky to make it through four months.”

“Where, exactly, did the budget go?”

“The new suborganization. It requires substantial resources to get off the ground.” He didn’t hide it.

“Yes, your Assembly of the Eighth Sacrament." Griselda said the words, but they carried a very obvious undercurrent of dissatisfaction.

She was aware of what it was now.

He hadn’t left her in the dark, but he basically just gave her the report when she left so she would have time to process it while on leave.

It was clear to Lucian that she had a great many things to say about it, but she wasn’t voicing them.

“You barely established this burial agency, and then you went and established a second organization while this one is still in its infancy. Do you think it’s a wise decision to stretch yourself so thin?” Despite her clear hang-ups, her concerns were more directed towards him.

"No," Lucian said very explicitly. “But sometimes the world doesn’t ask if you’re ready before its weight bears down on you.”

Griselda had a great many questions.

She had a great many concerns.

But she didn’t say them.

Maybe if it were before the last mission, she would have spoken freely about what was on her mind. But now, she felt like something had changed in him and found herself trusting his judgment and decision.

“What do you need from me?” She asked.

“I have several assignments; if you could take some off my hands, that would be great.” He opened a drawer on his desk, pulling out a stack of papers.

“You do know I recognize the seal from the Ordo Custodum Fidei on the papers, right?” Griselda stared at him.

“Is that what that is?” Lucian played dumb.

He most certainly didn’t steal this mission assignment from another fellow organization!

Griselda sighed, grabbing at the stack of papers, and she shifted through them. “I see three I can take all together in the same region and finish in a week.”

“I am grateful," Lucian smiled.

That seemed to earn a huff from her. 

“Before you leave—" Lucian searched his desk drawers before finding what he was looking for, another stack of documents. "How…good is your sword, Sister? It’s quality.”

“My sword?” She was surprised by the abrupt question. “If you want to know its quality..." It took her a moment to think of a way to explain it. “It’s perhaps a level or two above those Bayonets that Father Anderson seemed keen on using.”

“It’s not a holy sword then?”

“Not in the way you’re probably thinking. Every few years, the Church does a gathering, a ritual if you will. After a few days of sermons and prayers, someone—usually His Holiness—will ask for a blessing from Heaven. And they will receive Heaven’s favor across a large pile of metals. The Church will then take the metal and forge it into weapons. Not quite Holy Weapons, per se. More like Blessed Weapons, a couple steps below traditional Holy Weapons.”

Lucian understood the gist of it.

He knew that most holy weapons the church had were temperamental and wouldn’t just let anyone wield them, even someone like Griselda.

Her daughter was a clear example.

The girl was naive, foolish, young, and brash. Yet, one of the Church’s most powerful Holy Swords chose the girl.

Father Anderson’s Bayonets were also Blessed Weapons, but the quality difference was evident.

One blessed by Heaven, even in a large group; the other blessed by humans through mediums like holy water and prayers.

Lucian pushed the papers he just took out over to her. “Update your weapon before you go.”

Griselda grabbed the papers, looking over them as her eyebrows slowly raised. It wasn’t new to her; she heard exactly what these papers described back in Romania.

They were documents that gave detailed instructions on how to perform the ritual to create an ash lock.

Her lips slowly curled up.

She stood up, reaching over the desk. Lucian blinked in surprise as her thumb pressed against his face and moved a few stray strands of hair out of his eyes. “Cardinal?”

“Yes?”

“While I very much like a man who works hard, please do take care of your health.” She gently rubbed his cheek before pulling away.

She simply flashed him a warm smile before grabbing the papers and leaving.

Lucian tilted his head as he noticed she was swaying her hips much more than usual as she left.

He sat there silently until he felt something metaphysically buzzing at him.

He reached into his desk drawer and retrieved his not-so-normal bible, flipping it open.

The cardinal paused when he got to the flower that was still preserved within the pages. He took it out once, looking at it before carefully placing it back inside.

Despite having been plucked days ago, receiving no sunlight or water, it showed no signs of wilting.

[New Quest Created]

[The Assembly of the Eighth Sacrament has been created, but its purpose remains unfulfilled. As a representative and creator of the Eighth Sacrament, the burden falls upon you. Seek out and retrieve lost holy relics.

[Quest Objective: Retrieve One Sacred Gear not in the possession of Heaven or the Church]

[0/1]

[Reward: Spiritual Extraction Device (Bleach)]

[Note: This is a continuous quest. Further instances of quest completion will be rewarded in Faith.]

Lucian slowly closed the Bible, letting out a long sigh.

“That is very much grasping at straws. What, because Soul Society counts as Heaven?” Lucian let out a groan. “Forget it, I don’t care anymore.”

Did he have the right to complain about the source of the ‘rewards’?

At this point, he didn’t care anymore.

Though, first things first, he needed to create his own Ash Lock.

Unfortunately, it was a difficult ritual to complete. Not in a technical sense, but for the fact that it was tiring. One person could usually only do it once a month if they were good. Someone who doesn’t have the mental fortitude may only be able to do it once a year.

The second downside—if it could be called that—is that the number of ash locks one person could use was limited. It differed from person to person, but a conceptual weapon this strong was draining on one’s spirit to maintain.

Third, if it were still being countered, they weren’t just made for free. The ritual did require certain materials. And while the material components weren’t egregiously expensive, they still cost a not-small amount of money.

There was a reason the budget suddenly decreased so much with just the advent of the Eighth Sacrament right out the gate. At the very least, he wanted every member armed with an Ash Lock, which cost a pretty penny, so he had to shift a lot of their monetary resources over that way to cover the costs.

At this point in time, Lucian couldn’t rationalize the expenditure for himself beyond just the creation of one.

Since he already had a fairly powerful Holy Sword, that means he could do something other than a weapon.

Armor was a good idea, and his mind immediately went to Gauntlets.

They could be used as a weapon but also used defensively. It was a good choice for someone who used a sword, especially since your arms were one of your most vulnerable parts when sword fighting.

However, there was a bigger – perhaps more fatal weakness of his right at this moment in time. 

His maneuverability.

He wasn’t slow, but he wasn’t fast.

It was a realization that was consolidated from his Paladin training memories and the experiences of his in the last mission.

Luckily, he now had an opportunity to rectify that weakness.

He looked through the stack of missions, finding one that suited his current skill set.

“No rest for the wicked.” He said to himself as he flicked the lights off to his office on the way out.

@***@

A/N

Lucian goes into overdrive work mode, basically. They have an extremely small time frame to get some things set up before shit hits the fan on the political spectrum.