The Holy Fraud - Chapter 3

“When you say miracle, what kind do you mean exactly?” I asked in a calm tone.

It was instinct. I knew in my gut—this moment depended on confidence.

I couldn’t panic. If I gave way now, it was over.

So I had to bluff my way through and overwhelm Leonard.

“Even this conversation we’re having could be considered a miracle, could it not?”

Then, unexpectedly, a surprisingly plausible line popped out of my mouth.

Leonard stared at me in silence.

That gaze sent a chill down my spine, but determined not to back down, I continued even more confidently.

“That we are breathing here together, that we can look at each other, that we can speak and pray together… if all of that is guided by divine providence, then isn’t that itself a miracle?”

As I tilted my head slightly and spoke slowly, the bishop and several priests looked deeply moved.

Oh, not bad.

But Leonard’s gaze was unyielding, like that of a judge holding my fate in his hands, allowing not the slightest deceit.

He slowly opened his mouth.

“A very impressive speech. However…”

He paused briefly before continuing coldly, “The people living on this land need something to affirm their faith. Something that can silence the doubters—a tangible proof of belief.”

At his words, the bishop furrowed his brow but then turned toward me and said with conviction, “The Saintess is the one chosen by God. The Lord will surely aid her!”

—How utterly absurd!

The voice burst out as if it had been waiting. I screamed internally.

Ah, seriously, not helpful at all!

But I couldn’t say ‘I can’t.’

Everyone in the temple already supported me fully.

Even if I failed to perform a miracle, they seemed ready to glorify it as sacred silence.

Of course, the inquisitor wouldn’t be so easily fooled.

‘I have to come up with something. If this keeps up, I’m going to get exposed… What on earth can I show them?’

Then, an idea suddenly popped into my head.

Even if I couldn’t actually perform a grand miracle, what if I could cleverly manipulate the firm belief of the followers?

There were already so many people treating me as the Saintess. With the right psychological tricks, couldn’t I make just about anything seem like a miracle?

***

The next morning, a large crowd of followers gathered in the temple sanctuary.

The priests, dressed in predetermined robes, entered in order, followed by the monks carrying candles as they headed toward the altar.

After the bishop finished a brief reading from scripture, the choir of priests began their hymn.

Throughout the entire ceremony, I was too busy racking my brain for what kind of trick to pull.

And then came the final part—the Saintess’s prayer. My turn.

I calmed my pounding heart and stepped onto the altar.

All eyes turned to me.

How did I, an ordinary office worker, end up in the middle of this grand religious gathering?

All I wanted was to enjoy a sweet, easy life!

But now was not the time to wallow in self-pity.

The inquisitor sat near the front of the altar, glaring at me intently. Around him, priests stood in rows, and the bishop appeared to be explaining something to him.

‘Everyone’s watching me. One small word, one tiny gesture, could change everything now.’

I took a deep breath and put on a Saintess-like smile. Under the gaze of countless believers, I slowly joined my hands.

“O God…”

Of course, I had no real knowledge of this world’s language or rituals, but I tried to mimic the form I’d roughly picked up from the bishop and priests over the past few days.

Just then, the priest seated at the organ began to play a soft melody, and colored light poured in through the stained glass windows.

“O Callisto, who brings light to this world and embraces our hearts…”

Goodness.

Was I someone capable of speaking in such a sacred voice?

I had practiced a little the night before, but it came out sounding far more sincere than I expected, which surprised even me.

The believers, noticing nothing amiss, bowed their heads in reverence.

Only the inquisitor Leonard continued to watch me sharply.

For a moment, my mind went blank, but I quickly composed myself.

I had to seize this chance and stage a fake miracle.

“Grant me strength. Guide the hearts of those who doubt so they may find peace.”

The words I uttered sounded lofty, but in truth, they carried the desperate plea, ‘Please don’t let me get caught!’

—How do you intend to overcome this situation?

The god scoffed at the situation, as if he had been waiting for this moment.

But then, it happened.

The flame of the golden candlestick on the altar suddenly flickered.

That sight triggered a memory—of how I had once persuaded my manager and executive director with some outrageous logic back at work.

Back when I had to report budget overruns, I had thought hard about how to soften the blow, and shamelessly raised my head and said, “What we’re doing now is purchasing the future under the name of investment.”

Rather than confronting them with numbers, I chose to steer the mood with vague, emotional words.

If I replaced ‘figures’ with ‘vision’ and ‘mistakes’ with ‘destiny,’ for some reason, the higher-ups would nod.

Yes, it’s the same now.

I just need to use this emotional atmosphere to my advantage.

I raised my hand and slowly traced the air.

Some of the believers exclaimed, “Ooh!”

Then I turned slightly toward the large divine emblem behind me.

As if communicating with God, I extended my arm high.

My body moved so naturally it amazed even me.

And a few seconds later, I turned around solemnly and quietly declared:

“God has told us this—our faith itself is the miracle.”

Leonard’s eyes gleamed.

He probably wanted to argue!

He must’ve thought the situation was preposterous!

But the momentum was already mine.

The believers were already caught up in a wave of emotion.

To further stir the fervor, I slightly raised my voice.

“If we hold onto our devotion to Callisto more passionately, that alone will become light to shine upon the world! That is the miracle of Callisto!”

“Ooooooh…!”

I heard some of the believers sobbing. Interpretations that the Saintess had explained the miracle of God were already flooding in.

Leonard furrowed his brow and tried to speak, but the bishop beside him cut him off first.

“That is the Saintess! How sacred her teachings are! Are her words not those that shatter old conventions?”

The bishop was remarkable in a different way. Even I knew my words were nonsense, yet he had become my ardent supporter, sparing no praise.

And given the bishop’s high status here, the believers only grew more certain from his reaction.

Leonard’s lips twitched faintly.

He surely knew that my words were not a concrete miracle, but merely an abstract declaration.

Yet with the believers already moved, even he couldn’t easily object.

Had I just cleared the first hurdle? I glanced around cautiously.

—What an astonishing tongue. You truly have the talent of a swindler.

The sarcastic voice chimed in.

‘Could you stay quiet for once?’

—But really, how long do you think this feeble trick will last?

The god continued to mock and sneer in my mind.

But just for today, I decided to ignore him.

Because I had made it through!

If I continued dressing up my words like this, portraying invisible miracles as “real” ones, I just might survive in this world.

Of course, the inquisitor wouldn’t stop doubting me, but my goal was to make it impossible for him to openly refute me.

‘Alright, I’ll keep doing this and enjoy a comfortable Saintess life!’

I lightly held the hem of my white Saintess robe and reverently knelt on the ground.

Then I closed my eyes and finished the prayer in a soft voice.

“O Callisto, bestow your warm light upon all who have gathered here.”

The sanctuary fell silent for a moment.

The believers closed their eyes and prayed with solemn expressions, and a few priests wiped tears from their eyes.

Unintentionally, I had created a truly sacred and majestic atmosphere.