Simony

Will sat in his drawing room, speaking with Bishop Omar and Bishop Lang.

"To think, Bishop Lang—you baptized me over twenty years ago. And Bishop Omar, it's always a pleasure to see you," Will greeted them warmly.

"The pleasure is ours," Omar replied with a bow from his seat. "First, let me thank you for your generous donation to the Church."

"You protected my wife," Will said with sincere admiration. "How could I not repay the Church for helping my family?"

Bishop Lang leaned forward. "Then let me be direct: are you truly not attending the Council of Bishops? As Gaia's Champion, you have every right to be in that room."

"I appreciate that, Bishop Lang," Will said calmly, "but I believe the Council should be reserved for consecrated bishops. Besides, how could I be impartial? I'd vote for Bishop Omar."

"That's exactly why you should be there—so he can count on your vote!" Lang chastised.

"I've already submitted my vote to Cardinal vont Gaius," Will replied. "If there's a tie, my vote automatically goes to Bishop Omar."

"I am humbled by your support," Omar said, standing and bowing low.

"You've been a faithful steward to the Church," Bishop Lang added with conviction. "The entire kingdom knows of your devotion. Thanks to your generosity, thousands have joined the faith, and thousands more have received help. Bless you, Earl William vont Ballard."

"I'm merely a humble servant," Will replied, feigning religious piety. "Gaia has blessed me—why shouldn't I use those blessings to help others?"

"I knew it," Lang exclaimed, springing up and clapping with joy. "I knew when I baptized you that you were a true believer!"

"We'll take our leave now," said Bishop Omar. "Thank you again for your support." He bowed once more before both men exited the room.

As the door shut behind them, Michael entered.

"Your sister Rebecca is here to see you. Shall I invite her in?"

Will raised an eyebrow. "Rebecca? What does she want?"

"She didn't say. But she looks… depressed."

Will sighed. "Let her in."

Moments later, Rebecca burst into the room and wrapped herself around Will in a sudden, suffocating hug. She buried her head in the crook of his neck, squeezing herself against him as if trying to mold her body to his.

Will stiffened, arms hovering awkwardly in the air. He was stunned. Rebecca rarely showed this kind of raw emotion. He didn't return the hug.

She only held him tighter and began to cry.

"Cardinal Matheus vont Clermont is retiring," she whispered, trembling. "He's really stepping down."

Will knew that in the Churches of Aether, Gaia, and Pontus, cardinals could be chosen from champions, bishops, or apostles. Bishops managed churches. Apostles oversaw sacred relics. Champions fought for the Church. All three paths could lead to the cardinalate.

But then Rebecca said something that truly caught his attention.

"Some priests and bishops have been speaking out against you—and Elizabeth," she said quietly. "A small faction says the Church of Aether is losing prestige. And they blame you for it."

Will's expression hardened.

Rebecca continued, "They see the Churches of Aether and Gaia as competing spheres of influence. You and the king—opposing poles. So, as the Church of Gaia grows, the king's authority wanes. At least… that's how they see it."

Will scowled. What a pour rouse. They weren't concerned about the king's authority; they were worried about their own. Still, such views were counterproductive. Power wasn't a zero-sum game. It was a web of entanglements. Those who saw the world as winner-take-all were living in delusion.

"And now," Rebecca said tearfully, "the leading contender to replace Cardinal Matheus has vowed to denounce you for usury. He says your business practices are unethical. That banking and loans are immoral. He's accused you of criminal exploitation. He's even petitioned the king to strip you of your wealth and titles! He called you Fermion's number one criminal."

She clutched Will harder. "Will, I'm sorry. I rushed here as soon as I heard. If you want me to leave the Church, I will. Just say the word. I hate that I even had to tell you this—"

"No," Will interrupted gently. "I'm glad you told me. You're a wonderful sister. I'm lucky to have such a thoughtful older sister."

But inside, his heart boiled with fury.

'This man thinks he can steal what I built? He has no idea the ruin I'll bring upon him. Or his family name.'

Rebecca blinked. "Really?"

"Yes," Will said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Now that I know ahead of time, I can plan accordingly. You've done me a great favor."

Her demeanor instantly shifted. The sweet, angelic sister vanished. In her place, the mischievous yandere returned.

"Oh? Do I get a reward?" she asked hopefully, eyes gleaming.

Will's smile faltered. "W-What kind of reward?"

"A kiss," she said coyly.

'If she hadn't warned me, I'd erase her from existence,' Will thought grimly.

"Fine," he muttered, reaching out and kissing her hand.

"No. I want a kiss here," she said, pointing to her cheek.

"No," Will said flatly.

She had tricked him once before—he went for the cheek and ended up kissing her lips. He wouldn't fall for it again. But... he did need her cooperation for what came next.

"Fine," he sighed. "I'll kiss your cheek—but only if you run for bishop."

Rebecca blinked. "Bishop?"

"Yes. You run for bishop, and I'll give you your kiss," Will said, loathing himself for making the offer.

"Two kisses then," she bargained. "One for each cheek."

"Don't push your luck," Will said through gritted teeth.

"One now, one after I win," she said sweetly, knowing she had him.

"Fine," Will agreed. He gripped her face with both hands like a blacksmith holding iron, and kissed her on the cheek.

Only—for Elizabeth to walk in at that exact moment.

From her angle, it looked like Will was cradling Rebecca's face and kissing her on the lips.

"It's not what it looks like!" Will said quickly.

Elizabeth said nothing. She pointed at Rebecca, who wore the smug, flushed look of a cat that caught the canary.

'This indecent sister,' Will thought, resisting the urge to scream. Instead, he downed two glasses of whiskey.

"So," Elizabeth said at last, smirking, "have you finally decided on a harem?"

Only she knew how much Will detested his obsessive sister.

Elizabeth stepped forward, casually hugging Rebecca—subtly inserting herself between them to create a buffer—and turned to Will.

"Let's get to work," Will said, turning to Rebecca. "Time to chart your road to the cardinalate."

Will lay in bed awake. His heart betrayed his thoughts. He was a ruthless businessman on Earth, yet tonight's events felt sharp, like a blade picked against his heart. Yet, he felt there was no alternative. He would protect his wife and children from those who sought their downfall. 

Hearing the chime of the 1st bell, Will rose gently so as not to wake Elizabeth sleeping beside him. Grabbing his robe, he fastened the belt and crept downstairs to his office, trying not to wake the house staff.

As he opened the door to his office, Samuel was already sitting at his desk drinking a whiskey.

The room was dark, full of shadows. The sole light source was a candle lit next to Samuel. Will knew the candle was for his benefit, not Samuel's. As a master assassin, shadow and darkness were his home.

"I heard you from a mile away. You would've awakened the whole house if I hadn't already put them to sleep," Samuel whispered.

"…"

"Relax, it's a mild sleeping agent. They'll wake up from a deep sleep," Samuel explained.

"And Elizabeth and the children?" Will asked.

"Why ask? As your slave, I'm obligated to follow your commands."

Will stared at Samuel again, searching his eyes. His quiet friend had become freer after killing his parents' murder.

Seeing Will's uncertainty, Samuel swore, "I swear. But, if you don't believe me, you can always command me to tell the truth."

"Fine," Will said, dismissing his concern. "Remember, make it natural, and don't tell me the details." He added before casting [Gate] and opened a spatial door to Yorkshire inside the bishop's estate.

"Open the spatial door in an hour," Samuel said after entering.

The night air in Tirana was cold, like a wetted dagger. The night was dark, only illuminated by the stars. Samuel had picked tonight due to the moon's wane.

Samuel moved without sound, his black coat melting into the shadows of the stone alleyways. Even the city's dogs didn't bark when he passed. The bishop's estate was a two-story villa nestled at the front of the noble residence district where the larger and more prestigious residences were located.

Samuel scaled the outer wall like a shadow drifting uphill, slipped through the servant's corridor, and found the hallway where the bishop's quarters lay. The door wasn't locked. It never was in these parts—faith was their protection.

Fools.

Inside, the bishop snored gently, his corpulent frame buried under a lavish blanket of crimson silk. On the nightstand was a flask of Pontian brandy, a snuffbox, and an open scroll—no doubt some last-minute sermon on morality and piety.

Next to him in bed lay his mistress. Her small frame stood in stark contrast to his.

The irony made Samuel smile beneath his hood.

He knelt by the bed, examining the bishop's face. Sweaty. Bloated. Veins faintly pulsing in his temples. The man was ripe for death, even without Samuel's touch. But Will didn't believe in chance.

A gloved hand reached into his satchel, removing a tiny glass vial. He uncorked it slowly. No scent. No color. Odorless as rain in the void. Just a single drop into the mouth and—

He stopped.

On the floor beside the bed were stacks of gold coins and a ledger. Names scribbled in a rushed hand. Samuel flipped through them.

The pages detailed bribes, lascivious behaviors, and crimes of priests, adepts, bishops, and even Cardinal vont Clermont. This wasn't a holy man. He was a corrupt criminal.

He would have easily a cardinal election, had he not publicly gone after Will. Samuel laughed, "Ambition always blinds the arrogant."

Samuel pocketed the ledger for Will. The rest belonged to him. That was their arrangement. He could plunder the rest. And Samuel was certain the ledger would enable him to embark on more adventures like these.

Samuel poured the full vial into the bishop's mouth and felt the man's pulse on his wrist slowly come to a stop. The poison would call the bishop's heart to stop. Moreover, the poison would dissolve into the bloodstream. In a few hours, not even a light mage could discern it was poison. To most, it would appear that the man died naturally. Just as before, the officials would rule it a natural death.

With his work done. Samuel left the way he came.

The next morning, Tirana was buzzing with rumors.

The election for the Church of Aether Cardinal came to a halt. With the main contender's death, the church ordered a period of mourning. Meanwhile, the faction the bishop led dissolved into squabbling sub-groups. With no unifying figure, their influence crumbled.

During the period of mourning, Will put the ledger Samuel found to good use. Based on Will's past experiences, clergy, soldiers, and government officials were the easiest to bribe in that order. As an occupation, clergy received high prestige but low salaries.

A cleverly placed note here or there that detailed a bishop's crimes, sexual acts, or bribes was a great lubricate to begin negotiations for the Cardinalate.

One bishop dared to ask for 5,000 gold. Another asked for 10,00 gold. The average bribe cost Will roughly 2,500 gold.

Will didn't renegotiate; he knew simony didn't come cheap. He had Samuel secretly, despite the gold coins on their nightstand, with a letter detailing their responsibilities and warning them of failure.

After the mourning period ended, the Council of Bishops voted to elect a new bishop before electing a new Cardinal.

And then—unexpectedly—a new name emerged to replace the deceased bishop.

Apostle Rebecca vont Ballard.

As an apostle, she worked closely with the Church of Aether's sacred artifacts. She was well respected, and her records were impeccable.

Her nomination was immediate and effortless. Yet what puzzled many observers was the sheer fervor of support she received from across the kingdom.

On the day of her official nomination, Rebecca was ranked fourth in the odds charts. Her candidacy wasn't impossible—but no one expected a groundswell. Many viewed her as a symbol of divine favor—chaste and reverent, with a warm, approachable demeanor.

Apostles, after all, had one of the smoothest transitions into bishophood—just as bishops had the clearest paths to becoming cardinals. A bishop was a public figure, often backed by their regional lord. Their elections were just as political as they were spiritual.

But Rebecca had something most bishops didn't: her family name. And more importantly, her younger brother's money backing her.

The week before New Year's—just a fortnight before the World Economic Forum—the Churches of Aether and Gaia convened in Tirana to elect new cardinals.

For the Church of Gaia, the result was obvious. The outcome was sealed by the end of the first ballot.

The Church of Aether, on the other hand, was far more opaque.

That evening, Will, Elizabeth, his parents, and siblings were gathered around the dining table at his estate in Tirana. All except for James, who sat puffing his imperial pipe like a chimney, oblivious to the tension.

A knock sounded at the door. Moments later, Michael entered and handed Will a sealed note.

Will opened it, scanned the page, and read aloud:

"Bishop Omar was elected cardinal. The Church of Aether failed to elect a cardinal."

Exactly as planned.

If everything proceeded correctly, Rebecca and her preferred candidate would slowly gain traction, earning four votes per round—just enough to look legitimate, yet not suspiciously swift. Will wanted their support to appear organic.

Two more notes arrived over the next several days.

Both read the same:

No decision.

Then came the fourth letter.

Will read it silently. A small smile crept onto his face. He passed the note around the table.

Rebecca vont Ballard had been elected bishop. And Bishop Gregory vont Robinson—her candidate—had been elected cardinal.

The room erupted.

James and Helen, unaware of Will's behind-the-scenes maneuvering, hugged and wept. Their daughter—a bishop! It was a fairytale come true.

While the family celebrated, Mei quietly donated two million coppers to the Church of Aether, now that Rebecca was a bishop and an additional one million to the Church of Gaia.

Will poured himself a glass of brandy, leaned back in his chair, and watched the fire flicker. After all, a bought election was still an election. History would only remember Rebecca's rise to Bishop, not how it happened.