Most of the residents of Fuyuki City have a limited impression of the Shinto district, focusing primarily on the newly built Shinto Station, the bustling comrcial streets nearby, and the modern civic center—modern and trendy, just like the na Shinto suggests.
Only a few of the older generations know that before its developnt, Shinto followed a more traditional path, not much different in style from the neighboring district of Miyama Town, although it was much more run-down. After all, Miyama was a wealthy area, while Shinto was more of a mixed bag of people.
Fuyuki City is a small, unremarkable city (on the surface—though it teems with hidden monsters), and its annual governnt budget isn't very large. This is one of the reasons why the developnt of Shinto has been ongoing for over ten years without fully completing its transformation.
There are still many old streets left on the outskirts of the city.
There's a long, slightly sloped road, and a lookout point with a view of the sea, much like those often depicted in ani or novels.
The higher up the slope you go, the fewer buildings there are. On the hillside, there's even a European-style cetery. Fuyuki City is an international city, ho to many foreigners, and many of them are buried here after passing away.
Even higher than the cetery, there are the silhouettes of a few buildings. Though they aren't very tall or luxurious, they have a certain imposing presence, a special kind of pressure that makes one want to kneel in reverence.
If it were any other building, this feeling might seem excessive, but here, it feels perfectly appropriate.
Because this building is a gathering place of faith—the House of God on the hilltop, the Fuyuki Church.
The largest room in the church is the grand and solemn chapel. From the extensive rows of long pews, it's clear that there were once a great number of believers who ca here to worship.
However, that was a long ti ago. The elderly priest who used to manage the church was an outstanding man. Whether in theological studies or in guiding lost souls, he was exceptional. During his ti, not only did the number of believers grow, but even many local people with Buddhist or Shinto beliefs would occasionally visit the church to chat with the old priest. But everything changed ten years ago when the old priest passed away in an accident.
Perhaps due to its location in Japan, personnel transfers were slow. It was a long ti after the old priest's funeral before a new priest took over.
The unique culture of Japan ans that most people here are not devout believers. They are more like casual worshippers, offering prayers to gods when they encounter them, and lighting incense when they visit temples, but without any strong inner faith. As long as sothing is appealing, it's fine, but once that's gone, they quickly forget. The new priest was quite ordinary—though he was diligent in his work, he didn't have any standout qualities.
This is the typical setup for a church in a small place like Fuyuki. A priest of the old priest's caliber, who could manage an entire diocese, was wasted here. But that's just human nature—once you're used to the good tis, it's hard to go back to the hard tis. As a result, the church's popularity gradually waned.
At the beginning of this year, the priest, who had served for eight years, was also transferred away, further compounding the church's troubles. The building, which had aged over the years, coupled with a lack of careful maintenance, had cast a shadow over this once sacred place of worship. While the exterior still looked fine, many of the interior facilities were gradually falling into disrepair.
If things continued this way, in a little while, this place might beco the subject of a new urban legend—a haunted church. After all, stories of the divine and the demonic have always been popular topics.
Perhaps God didn't want to see such a scene. Just as the church was on the verge of ruin, new mbers arrived—four all at once.
But unlike the previous two priests, these four were a bit odd.
First of all, they were all won.
Secondly, they were all very young—the oldest was barely in her twenties.
And finally, their behavior toward the church was peculiar.
Their first act upon arriving wasn't cleaning or repairing the damaged building. Instead, they imdiately dove into the basent to install sothing strange, then turned the church upside down, almost dismantling it in the process.
After all of this, several days passed before they finally began cleaning and repairing. But even then, only two of them were working. One was lying lazily on a pew in the chapel, while the other stood motionless in the basent.
The girl who seed to be in charge, who had been hamring and nailing wood in the room, couldn't stand it anymore. She put down her hamr and spoke, exasperated, to the woman lying before her—a woman who was taller than most grown n and radiated laziness.
"Caren is one thing, but can't you at least get up and help? A little bit of activity shouldn't be too much for the mighty Knight of the Shield."
"So annoying. I'm not a priest or a nun. Why should I be doing this?"
The woman, called the Knight of the Shield, raised an eyebrow and grumbled with a sullen expression.
"And why does Caren get a pass? Favoritism isn't fair, Ciel. Just because I'm not part of your Burial Agency, doesn't an I should be treated differently."
Ciel, dressed in a black nun's habit, sighed.
"Because this is her father's—this heretic's—forr ho. She must be... I don't want to upset her any further."
"Who would've thought that the Burial Agency had a soft side."
The tall woman in a black jacket propped herself up, genuinely surprised as she looked at the nun before her.
"You guys don't seem anything like the rumors—cold-blooded killers, madn who walk the fine line between divinity and heresy."
"To be honest, most of the rumors are true. The Director and the higher-ups are even more extre than the stories suggest. I, Caren, and Father Dawn are a bit better, but not by much."
Ciel sighed again.
"But you, Ries, are quite different from your reputation. Everyone says you're the most devout of the devout, a model knight, the epito of discipline and competence."
"That's all exaggerated nonsense from Cardinal. The fact that so many people believe it is a headache. Back in the Vatican, dealing with them every day made want to punch them in the face."
As she spoke, Riesbyfe threw a punch into the air, as if aiming at her imaginary admirers.
"..."
Ciel sighed for the third ti. The people who admire you are idiots, but what does that make you reveal so much to people you barely know?
However, Ciel wasn't as foolish as Riesbyfe. She kept her thoughts to herself and didn't say a word.
Riesbyfe continued her complaints: "So, when I heard you guys were going after that heretic, I imdiately applied to join you. At least you aren't a bunch of idiots."
"You don't seem like a Holy Knight. You're nothing like Miss Fiore."
Ciel shook her head in resignation as she cast her gaze toward the last person in the chapel—the woman who was both the most fitting and the least fitting for the sacred space.
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