Tithes and offerings.
These two terms were familiar—ones I had seen plenty of times before.
Tithes were the portion of income—one-tenth, to be exact—that the followers of the Goddess Church were required to offer to the Church.
Offerings, on the other hand, were essentially a form of extortion collected by the Church during services.
There were offerings for births, safe deliveries, Sundays, harvest thanksgiving, birthdays—you name it.
They attached some absurd reason to demand money from their believers.
In Ulranor Kingdom, I’d recently reformed the system to curb such exploitation, but it was clear that the Holy Nation still clung to its old ways.
It wasn’t unusual for a cathedral to collect such funds; the issue lay in the words that followed.
“External assets?”
As far as I knew, this term referred to resources or wealth secured from outside the organization, not something owned or generated by it directly.
The Church wasn’t supposed to own anything beyond its religious facilities and self-sustaining farms. If it did, it was outright corruption.
Curious, I picked up the document from the desk.
The pages were filled with graphs and tables written in the Holy Nation’s language.
There were figures, calculations, and notes scrawled everywhere.
Despite my limited proficiency in the language, I managed to make out a few details:
100 pounds of gold bars (approximately 45 kilograms), 230 pounds of silver bars, and a thousand acres of high-quality coniferous forest.
Other terms like “mansion” and “aged fine wine” also caught my eye.
I didn’t know the full context, but every single entry on the list clearly held significant value.
“…Officer.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Take the gag off that bastard. Then make him kneel in front of me.”
My soldiers obeyed without hesitation, grabbing the cardinal by his arms and forcing him to his knees on the floor.
“You… who the hell are you people? What’s your purpose in coming here and rifling through my papers?”
“That’s none of your business. Just answer my questions, and things won’t get bloody. Cooperate, and we’ll leave quietly.”
Grabbing the cardinal by the chin, I tilted his head up to meet my gaze.
I waved the document labeled “External Assets List” in front of his face, and his eyes trembled uncontrollably.
“What’s this? Assets purchased and managed by the Church, perhaps?”
“…”
“Come on, no need to hold back. Just answer the question. It’s not like telling me will cause you any harm.”
He didn’t respond.
His silence was defiant, as though he were determined not to give me the answer I wanted, no matter what.
Maybe he thought this was some display of resolve, but it only worked against him.
His stubbornness confirmed that this document hid something important.
If he truly wanted to protect this secret, he should’ve tried to spin a convincing lie.
Not that I’d have fallen for it—judging by his acting skills, it would’ve been easy to see through.
“Well, if you refuse to talk, I have no choice.”
I gestured for the soldiers to step aside and grabbed the cardinal’s left arm with one hand.
With a swift motion, I tore through the loose priestly robes covering it, clenched my other hand into a fist, and brought it down.
—CRACK!
“AAARGH!! M-my arm!!”
Using a combination of magic and well-trained strength, it wasn’t difficult to break someone’s bone in a single strike.
Especially when the person was a civilian with no military experience.
If a trained soldier like me could snap necks with a single lariat, shattering an arm was child’s play.
But I didn’t stop there.
Interrogation 101: it’s not the initial pain that breaks someone; it’s the continuous agony and fear that follow.
As the cardinal writhed in panic from the shock of his broken arm, I “kindly” gave him a thorough massage. Of course, it was the punching-and-beating kind of massage.
“So, have you decided to tell me everything now?”
“Argh! K-kghhh! I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything, just spare me!”
The cardinal clutched my arm with his good hand, pleading desperately.
Having just experienced my revolutionary bone-pulverizing interrogation method, he had become significantly more cooperative.
He promised to answer every question I had, his voice trembling and his tone suddenly polite.
What a shame.
If he’d endured just a little longer, I was planning to twist his legs into a pretzel next.
“Explain this properly. What exactly is written here?”
“Haa… What’s written there are my personal assets. I’ve been setting them aside for retirement, for my old age.”
“Retirement, huh? That’s quite a large amount for a retirement fund. And why are these assets, purchased with donations and tithes, listed as your personal property?”
The cardinal had the audacity to blatantly label the source of the funds in the title and still call it his private stash.
Was he not even trying to hide his blatant disregard for the separation of personal and public matters?
The cardinal let out a deep sigh before replying.
“Well, of course, it’s embezzled money. I skimmed off a portion of the funds that were supposed to go to the higher-ups and used it for myself.”
“…You’re very bold to admit your corruption so openly, aren’t you?”
“Isn’t it something everyone does? Be it the Holy Nation or any other country on the continent, it’s all the same.”
He spoke with surprising confidence, even as he cradled his broken arm.
To him, he was just another ordinary corrupt figure in a system teeming with them.
“I don’t know where you’re from, but this is the norm in the Goddess Church. Without this kind of ‘resourcefulness,’ there’s no way to get ahead—or even survive, for that matter. Do you have any idea how pitiful our official salaries are?”
“…I’ve heard about it,” I admitted.
When overhauling our own kingdom’s religious institutions, I’d learned about similar systems.
Under the Church’s internal regulations, clergy were only provided with the bare minimum required to maintain their basic living needs and uphold their dignity.
Forget fine wine or mansions—even acquiring a small garden plot would be a stretch under such conditions.
“When clergy step down from their positions, they’re left with no means to sustain themselves. So everyone ends up creating a little stash or two on the side.
When you’re a junior, you might siphon off a few coins here and there. But when you climb as high as I have, you start hoarding wealth by the mountain.”
“Does it not cross your mind that what you’re doing might shame the Goddess you serve?”
“Shame doesn’t put food on the table, does it? Do you know how much money it takes to rise to this level?
If you don’t want to go bankrupt, you toss aside morality and focus on earning as much as you can.”
He continued to elaborate, speaking casually about the rampant bribery, position-buying, and kickbacks required to stay afloat in the Church hierarchy.
It was a system where corruption wasn’t just an option—it was a necessity for survival.
The cardinal’s place at the top of this corrupt food chain allowed him to accumulate this much wealth.
“Disgusting. At this point, you’re not clergy—you’re just a glorified pyramid scheme.”
“Pyramid scheme…? I’m not sure what that is, but I won’t deny your point. Even I know this isn’t the behavior befitting someone who serves the divine.”
The cardinal shrugged with his one good shoulder.
“But if you think I’m bad, the Holy See is far worse. It’s a den of pigs—indulgence is their way of life, funded by tributes and offerings collected from across the continent.”
“Be specific.”
“Hmm… well, they line every hallway with gold-plated statues, lay out the finest carpets, and use silk vestments as if they’re disposable. Wear them once and toss them out.”
“…What the hell? They’ve completely lost it.”
Silk was one of the most expensive textiles out there, and they were treating it like a disposable napkin?
How easy it must be for them to burn through wealth without understanding its value.
Religious organizations with unchecked power are always hopeless.
They need to be dismantled and restructured under state control to prevent this kind of madness.
In fact, when I returned, I resolved to push for a new law requiring the Church to submit detailed financial reports, including a breakdown of how much they collect in offerings every month.
“Wait… hold on.”
Midway through cursing internally, a brilliant idea struck me.
“Hey. If you’ve compiled an asset list like this for yourself, then surely the Holy See has something similar, right?”
“I can’t say for sure, but… probably? They own far too much to keep track of without documentation.”
“Perfect. Then the next target is the Holy See itself.”
I would find the evidence of corruption and decadence within the Goddess Church and the Holy See, then expose it publicly in the kingdom.
I would prove, once and for all, just how rotten and corrupt these so-called servants of the divine had become.
Such an act would show the world that these people had no right to meddle in other nations’ politics or preach about justice and morality.
Alternatively, I could use the information as leverage—a weapon to keep the Holy Nation in check.
Even if I didn’t reveal it to the world, just letting them know I held damning evidence could serve as a powerful diplomatic tool.
“Thanks for the valuable info. Go get that arm healed later with magic or holy arts. Don’t worry, it’s not life-threatening.”
“No need for thanks, just finish your business and leave…”
He was grumbling, and for a moment, I considered smacking him upside the head—but I decided to let it slide.
There was no point in tormenting a “cooperative” source who had just handed over such crucial information.
Thus, the decision to head for the capital was made on the spot.
The next day, we packed up our stall and turned our horses north.
Traveling along the main roads, stopping occasionally to rest and resupply, the journey took roughly two weeks.
It wasn’t too surprising, given that the Holy Nation was a smaller, mid-tier country compared to ours.
“So that’s the Holy See?”
“Looks more like a fortress, doesn’t it?”
“That’s because it is a fortress. They built it during the days when they were treated like heretics, to fend off attackers. Then they repurposed it later.”
The headquarters of the Goddess Church, which I was seeing for the first time in my life, was surprisingly unimpressive.
The buildings, aside from those at the uppermost levels, were so old and utilitarian that you might mistake the place for an outdated castle.
Apparently, the defensive capabilities of the fortress were still intact, with an armory and gunpowder storehouse on-site.
Well, no matter its origins, it looks easy enough to infiltrate. That’s good for us.
“Same plan as before. Some of you stay behind to sell, the rest prepare for the mission. Eat, rest, and relieve yourselves ahead of time. This is going to be another long night.”
“Yes, sir!”
After spending half a day sleeping to recharge, we rose in the dead of night.
It was the hour when all the streetlights were out, and not a soul could be seen wandering the streets.
It didn’t take long to slip through the capital’s quiet streets, bypass the even stricter security around the Holy See, and make our way inside.
—Crash!
Breaking a window, we entered.
“Wow… I’d heard stories, but this place really is ridiculously extravagant. Split into two groups—half of you go left, the rest follow me to the right.”
“Should we start by finding the archives?”
“There might be a separate room for documents. Search thoroughly. A facility like this could have split them into different sections.”
Even amidst whispered instructions, we couldn’t help but be awed by the sheer opulence of the place.
Everything was gilded and pristine, making it clear this was no ordinary building.
We moved cautiously, careful not to make a sound and risk waking anyone.
The first floor didn’t yield much—stables, a communal prayer hall, and what appeared to be barracks for the guards.
So we decided to check the second floor.
And that’s when I saw it.
“…What the…?”
“Eek! Y-you saw me?”
It was a bizarre sight: a woman with her backside wedged into the wall, struggling to free herself.
“Uh… could you… help me, please? Judging by your appearance, you don’t seem to be from the Holy Nation…”
She asked for help, but I couldn’t focus on anything she was saying.
Because in my mind, I could only think one thing.
Wow. Her chest is bigger than her head.