Chapter 154 — The Ceremony Venue
Earlier that day.
Philadelphia City Hall – Remembrance Day Ceremony
The venue was packed to the brim, camera flashes flickering like small bursts of lightning.
Two large American flags hung in the center of the hall, with ornamental olive branches—symbols of peace—decorating the front of the podium.
Parker Shelly, the first Black female mayor in over a century of Philadelphia's history, walked onto the stage in a deep navy suit.
"Today, we gather here to honor the warriors who fought for the freedom of this land…"
The ceremony officially began.
But in the wings, other people were scrambling.
---
Side Chamber – Backstage
"Bente! Finally found you!
Mr. Richie said we need to run Beethoven's Ninth again before going on stage!"
Zal gasped for breath as he rushed in.
Bente pointed toward the seating area and sighed.
"Why do we have to do all the work?
Those guys just sit there looking fancy."
Zal turned to look.
In the front rows sat several clergy members in immaculate black robes, their garments fitted with gold-embroidered stoles.
Compared to them, he and Bente looked like they had wandered in from a rural church.
"What's so strange about that? They're from St. Peter's Cathedral," Zal said.
"The old man in the very front—Mattheus Ortega—is the Archbishop.
He's served for over forty years."
"As the diocesan bishop, he's presided over three Vatican Grand Festivals.
Even within the entire Church, his status is top-tier."
"Sending him here shows how seriously the Church takes this event."
Bente nodded in awe… only to witness the venerable Archbishop discreetly scratch his backside.
"…Eh?"
Bente froze, the "dignified and noble" image in his heart collapsing instantly.
So even archbishops are still human… he thought silently.
But the old man suddenly turned his head—as if sensing Bente's stare.
Terrified, Bente ducked back behind the wall.
Zal, oblivious to Bente's internal meltdown, continued:
"And the woman next to him—if I'm right—that's Sister Bettice Mason."
"She entered a diocesan-level exorcism seminary while she was still an apprentice nun,
and just one month later became a Bronze Cross cleric.
They say her theological talent is exceptional."
Zal then leaned closer, lowering his voice:
"She's definitely stronger than Silas."
Bente nodded blankly, then glanced back at the quiet figure seated among the clergy.
By Church regulations, female clerics had to keep their heads fully covered under their hoods.
But even from the side, Bente could see the outline of her face.
Pale, radiant skin that seemed to glow like consecrated marble.
Long eyelashes like ink strokes shielding two emerald-like eyes.
She didn't need to say a single word;
just sitting there, her posture alone drew every gaze in the room.
At this moment, Bente wasn't the only one stealing glances—many male clerics kept turning their heads.
"What… what a beautiful lady…" Bente muttered under his breath.
The moment he realized what he said, he slapped his mouth shut.
Such thoughts definitely counted as "violating one's vows."
Thankfully, no one seemed to have heard.
"Sister Bettice might be heading to the Vatican this year," Zal whispered.
"Rumor says she's even one of the candidates for Holy Child."
Bente blinked. "How do you know so much?"
Zal shot him a sideways look.
"Once we graduate the seminary, we'll be assigned to parishes all over the country.
If you want a good placement, you need to know who needs what—and prepare in advance."
"Zal, you really do think ahead!
If you get into St. Peter's, I'll definitely celebrate for you!"
Zal immediately choked.
"Eh… I was just gathering info. I could never get into a place like that."
A brief silence fell between them.
"…Time for rehearsal. Let's go."
"R–right."
---
Audience Seats – Front Row
"Sister Bettice, is it just me, or does everyone keep staring at me?"
Archbishop Mattheus Ortega frowned and scratched his thigh again.
Before Bettice could respond, the blond priest beside them whispered:
"Archbishop, they're probably looking at Sister Bettice, not you…"
There was another sentence he swallowed:
And yes, scratching your backside during a formal ceremony IS rather inappropriate…
"That's a relief," Mattheus sighed.
"Sister Bettice, straighten your back just a bit more."
As he said that, the old man slouched even lower.
Bettice barely resisted the urge to scold him.
"Archbishop, please stop that!
And you, Father Roderick—this is a solemn event!"
Still, she adjusted her posture slightly.
"Apologies."
"Forgive me."
Feeling she might've spoken too harshly, Bettice quickly changed topics.
"Archbishop, I heard the memorial ceremony includes Mass wine this year.
Shall I fetch some for you later?"
Mattheus instantly straightened his spine.
"Bring plenty!
And don't let those Vatican geezers see you!"
Bettice could only shake her head helplessly at his greedy expression.
"Speaking of the Vatican," Father Roderick whispered,
"I heard the Holy Court itself sent an envoy this time—to personally grant exorcist corps qualifications."
Bettice's eyes narrowed.
The Court's Exorcist Corps was rumored to gather extraordinarily gifted individuals from all over the continent.
Entry into that group meant direct assignment to the Vatican itself.
Mysterious, highly autonomous, and feared throughout the Church—
They were the true "special division" of the clergy.
Bettice had come here precisely to secure a chance to take that selection exam.
"You'll definitely make it, Sister Bettice," Mattheus said earnestly.
A warmth spread quietly through her chest.
"Thank you, Archbishop."
"…Later I'll show you where the Mass wine is stored—remember to take only the high-year ones."
Bettice's eyebrow twitched.
Of course he wasn't being kind for no reason.
"Archbishop Mattheus, do you know the Court envoy?"
Since arriving, she had been searching for him.
"Jolan?
That fellow is also part of today's security.
He's probably crouching in some corner right now," Mattheus muttered while scratching his thigh yet again.
"A Holy Court envoy… doing security detail at a public memorial?" Roderick said in disbelief.
"These days, evil outbreaks have been more frequent," Bettice explained.
"The Church is being extra cautious."
"Just recently, there was an attack in the south.
If not for a powerful exorcist arriving in time, the whole town would've fallen."
"There was such an incident…?" Roderick murmured.
"With Jolan here, I doubt they'll need me," Mattheus thought to himself with relief.
---
City Hall – 3rd Floor, Surveillance Room
Staff bustled back and forth.
"Speech ends in one minute.
Ceremonial artillery team, take pre-positions…"
"Boy in Sector A dropped a toy—we can rule that area out…"
"Bishop Hans of Dei Church just entered backstage, claims he's checking on the choir children…"
Jolan listened to reports over the radio while scanning the monitors.
Just then, a young nun peeked through the doorway.
"You can come in," he said flatly.
Caroline blinked—only then realizing she was being addressed.
"With your detection abilities, Archbishop…
If someone here whispered bad things about you… you'd hear it all, wouldn't you?"
She pointed directly at the room full of staff.
The room fell silent for a second.
Then everyone resumed work—quietly but awkwardly.
Jolan covered his face.
"…How's the task I assigned you going?"