"Well then, please take your belongings and have a pleasant journey ahead. Finally, Laterano welcomes your return at any time."
Jeanne stared blankly at the Sankta processing her departure papers. She couldn't help but ask herself: Did I not sleep well last night? Am I seeing things? Or perhaps she hadn't actually woken up yet? Should she find a spinning top to check if this was the real world?
"Is there a problem? Why are you so silent, looking at me with that expression?"
Seeing Jeanne's speechless state, the civil servant handling the paperwork was naturally very confused, asking her with a puzzled look.
What do you think?!
Jeanne looked at the white-bearded old man in front of her—who currently wore the expression of a simple security guard at the gate—and the words remained stuck in her throat.
But that wasn't the point! The point was: Why are you here, old man? Did they find out you embezzled funds to rebuild your office?
"Wait a moment... I need a second to process this. I won't even mention the other stuff, but Your Holiness, why are you here processing exit permits?"
That's right. The "security guard" in front of Jeanne was none other than the Pope. Unless he had a twin brother and had failed to mention it, there was simply no other possibility.
Hearing her question, the Pope didn't look embarrassed at all, which effectively ruled out the possibility that he had been demoted.
"I'm just here to see you off! Besides, the staff member working here this morning 'happened' to have some business and took a half-day off, so I figured I'd drop by and give you a send-off."
No matter how Jeanne heard it, that "happened to take leave" staff member sounded suspicious. It was such a convenient coincidence that it rivaled the frequency of physical education teachers "falling ill" back in her old world.
And this "dropping by" was a bit of a stretch—the location was quite far from his usual haunts. And if you're going to come, fine, but why are you wearing a staff uniform?
She looked at the poor garment. Three of the buttons were in a state where they couldn't be fastened at all, wrapping his figure so tightly he looked more like a ball than a Pope. Jeanne even wondered if the fabric could hold. Given its current tension, he probably didn't even dare to take a deep breath.
The Pope followed Jeanne's gaze to his own attire. Indeed, he looked like someone who had discovered he'd gained weight but refused to believe it, struggling into a uniform several sizes too small. Even the Pope, seeing his own bizarre silhouette, scratched his cheek and thought for a moment before saying to Jeanne:
"It might be a bit small... but this was the largest uniform I could find here. I just wanted to see if the current uniforms were comfortable."
Facing his own strange appearance, the Pope quickly tried to find an explanation to make things slightly less awkward.
As for Jeanne? She just smiled. At this point, a smile was the only expression she knew how to wear. After a short silence, she finally spoke to the old man:
"While clothing is a matter of personal preference, I'd suggest you change into something a bit looser. Such a tight outfit isn't good for your health..."
Heaven help me, she didn't even know how to phrase it!
The Pope's antics had truly exceeded Jeanne's ability to offer counsel. Would any sane old man wear a uniform that small? No matter how you looked at it, the answer was no.
"Can we stop mentioning that? I just wanted to give you a surprise! I originally planned to hold a grand farewell ceremony, but knowing you prefer to keep a low profile, I came here alone."
The Pope tried to stand up and move a bit, only to find himself tightly bound by the fabric. He gave a slight shrug of effort, and with a sharp "Rrip!", the poor uniform turned into strips of cloth clinging to his body.
Fortunately, he was wearing other clothes underneath, or it would have been beyond embarrassing.
"Pfft..."
Jeanne nearly burst out laughing. Luckily, she covered her mouth in time to prevent the atmosphere from sliding into even more awkward territory. The conversation paused for a moment while Jeanne struggled to regain her composure and stop the sound of giggling.
After a moment, a normalized Jeanne asked the old man:
"You traveled all this way... is there something you're worried about?"
Jeanne knew in her heart that part of the reason he came was indeed to see her off before she left Laterano. However, she also believed it wasn't that simple. This old man had another reason!
She had seen it. The moment he first laid eyes on her, a flicker of deep concern had flashed in the depths of his eyes. It wasn't just the simple worry an old gentleman feels when a friend leaves; there was something deeper.
When the Pope heard Jeanne's question, his expression became solemn. He stroked his beard and said:
"It's true. I'm still uneasy about that horn you're carrying, so I decided to personally see you out of the city and check the situation."
As he spoke, his eyes fixed seriously on the small golden horn hanging around Jeanne's neck. To be honest, he really didn't want her to take it away from Laterano. It wasn't because of its power; Laterano, which valued peace above all, had never entertained the thought of using it. Destroying the land held no value for the people of Laterano; in fact, it would only burden them with immense guilt.
What truly worried him was that once other powers learned of its existence, they would undoubtedly try to seize it from Jeanne—or even seize Jeanne herself! From current intelligence, there were indeed certain Sarkaz tribes who knew the secrets of this object.
Given the current climate and the ambitions of the Sarkaz, the Pope wouldn't believe for a second that they lacked interest in this item.
"You are aware that a certain Sarkaz tribe once held it for a time. I suspect they might have placed some kind of curse upon it."
He maintained a cautious attitude toward those ancient Sarkaz curses. Although he wasn't sure if that specific tribe still existed today, he believed such beings wouldn't disappear from history so easily. He just didn't know their current state.
Hearing the Pope's concerns, Jeanne nodded in silent agreement. His reasoning made sense. Even though she didn't quite believe those people had the power to do anything to the artifact, it was always better to be cautious. It wasn't about whether a threat definitely existed, but the possibility that it might.
"In that case, I'll try walking out of Laterano now. I suspect that even if there is a curse on it, the city of Laterano might be suppressing it."
With that, Jeanne grasped the golden horn in her hand and began walking toward the city limits. She couldn't be sure what kind of curse it might be, and since she didn't understand ancient sorcery at all, she figured holding it directly was safer.
With her unique constitution, no matter how strange or dangerous a curse was, the moment it triggered, her physical contact with it would likely nullify it.
The Pope watched with a grave expression as Jeanne stepped beyond the boundaries of Laterano, his eyes never leaving her hand.
Once Jeanne was outside the city, there was no strange reaction. She assumed it was simply because she was still too close to the city for anything to trigger. Even after she walked a hundred meters away, the object remained dormant. Jeanne let go of it and stared at the horn for a long time.
In the next moment, she drew her sword and nicked her right thumb. Crimson blood began to flow from the wound. She intended to test it with her own blood—if a curse was simply hidden too deeply, smearing her blood on the horn would surely force it out or erase it.
The Pope was startled when he saw Jeanne cut her finger. But what surprised him even more was that as the blood touched it, the horn actually began to react!