Show Me Your Stats!-Chapter 90

Dalrok Logia slowly swept his gaze over the sea of believers packed into the worship hall, then let out a soft, benevolent chuckle as he addressed Aterra.

“My deepest apologies for interrupting the service with such sudden notice. But as an old man with little time left in this life, I felt an impatient desire to offer my prayers directly at this sacred temple. ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) I acted rashly.”

“N-not at all, Senior Elder. It is... truly an honor to receive your presence...”

Aterra responded in a low, composed voice, carefully holding back the grinding of his teeth. Between Logia’s high rank and the overwhelming excitement of the crowd, there was little he could do. The Senior Elder, well-versed in the art of charming and disarming others, gave Aterra a warm pat on the shoulder—like a grandfather might do to a favored grandson. It was an intentional gesture, made in front of many, to make it impossible for Aterra to object.

Logia then turned back to the gathered crowd, his expression one of satisfaction. Even in Sobletz, such a grand display of ceremonial opulence was rare. The eyes of Solar’s believers, filled with awe and reverence, stared up at the Senior Elder as if he were a god himself.

“Beloved children of Morunka. This old man is none other than Dalrok Logia, currently holding the humble position of Senior Elder at the main temple in Sobletz. As the younger brother of His Holiness the Pope, I have spent decades at his side, serving our god.”

With that, Logia subtly boasted of his station. “Main temple,” “Senior Elder,” “Younger brother of the Pope.” These three phrases landed with immense impact on the ears of the Solar citizens.

“To think that I have finally set foot on this sacred land where our god dwells... it fills me with nothing but emotion. Truly, if I were to be welcomed into Morunka’s embrace tomorrow, I would leave this world with no regrets.”

And then, with a voice full of heartfelt reverence, he began to praise Solar’s land and its people.

“I have long heard of the faithful believers of Solar—even in Sobletz, stories abound. But to see it with my own eyes! Look at this hall, brimming with worshippers. Look beyond—those who still gather, even from outside! Oh, how beautiful, how moving this sight is. You have exceeded all I have heard. Truly devout! Our god must be so pleased.”

As the old man’s eyes welled with tears and his voice cracked, the citizens of Solar—who had been quietly shrinking in the face of the extravagant Sobletz procession—straightened up with pride. Their eyes glistened; some even openly wept in emotion.

Ayra, watching from beside him, couldn’t help but silently whistle. Damn, she thought. He’s got a silver tongue slicker than butter. In just over a minute, Logia had won over the entire worship hall.

“And if I have the honor of standing before you all today, it is thanks entirely to the noble lord of Solar.”

The Pope’s brother, the Senior Elder himself, bowed politely to someone.

Every head in the hall turned to Ayra.

This was the first time many had seen their lord in person. He was a young man dressed in pristine ceremonial white, layered with a long robe, a sheer white veil drawn over his face down to the bridge of his nose. He held three red flowers in delicate, unmarred hands. Though much of his face was hidden, his sharp jawline and graceful lips, visible beneath the veil, gave away his striking features.

“The lord? But wasn’t he that shady mage...?”

“I heard he was a heretic?”

“Hasn’t the Solar family always opposed the temple?”

The crowd murmured in confusion. This was the same young lord who had never shown his face and had been the center of countless rumors. But the image before them clashed sharply with those preconceptions. Logia, catching the unrest in their eyes, smiled kindly at Ayra—deliberately deepening their confusion.

“This individual is a remarkable mage, my savior, and a devout follower of Morunka. He is well-versed in doctrine and lives a life of piety. In fact, with the approval of His Holiness the Pope himself, he has been granted the title of Holy Teacher by the main temple.”

Holy Teacher—the word sounded grand, though it was, in truth, an honorary position with little authority. Sobletz, like many temples, awarded such titles based on influence or generous donations. And the title of Holy Teacher was the highest of them.

This was the price Ayra had demanded on the day she saved Logia’s life.

She could have asked for a fortune in gold and wiped out a portion of her debt—but instead, Ayra had requested something that wouldn’t burden Logia yet would serve her immensely: public endorsement by the temple.

The drop in her approval rating hadn’t been due to public safety alone. The deeper issue was the longstanding resentment between the Solar family and the temple. Ayra’s father had directly clashed with the clergy, and the devout people of Solar had never forgiven that.

If this wasn’t resolved, it would become a major obstacle to Ayra’s governance. Rather than confronting the citizens directly, she decided to use their blind devotion against them.

A beautiful appearance. A title recognized by the Pope and his brother. A divine endorsement. The Senior Elder’s extravagant procession. These were more than enough to rewrite the people’s image of Ayra.

The heir of a heretical family, revealed to be a faithful believer honored by the main temple? That was a twist they never saw coming.

And sure enough—

Ding!

[Territory Notification: Approval Rating +1%! Current: 16%]

[Territory Notification: Approval Rating +2%! Current: 18%]

Three percent in one speech.

If this pace continued, she might complete her quest with ease. Ayra cheered inwardly.

That’s when Aterra, who had said nothing until now, finally stepped forward.

“...It brings me great joy to welcome the noble Senior Elder of the main temple.”

Aterra spoke with feigned politeness, though his eyes burned with quiet rage. His every fiber screamed a desire to prevent Ayra from gaining favor.

“Especially now that we’ve learned the lord is a Holy Teacher, might I humbly request that he deliver today’s sermon in my place—for the faithful believers here today? Perhaps on Zamrabia 9:3: Thus was Zamrabia stoned by the crowd, and the crimson field set aflame...”

Ayra’s smile deepened. There it is. Aterra clearly knew full well that Ayra, a mage raised far from religious life, wouldn’t know anything about scripture.

Logia’s face briefly darkened—he understood exactly what Aterra was doing. If Ayra failed here, it wouldn’t just tarnish her—it would make Logia look like a fool for endorsing her.

Of course, Ayra had no idea what that passage from Zamrabia was about.

But Ayra had Pebble—and there were plenty of people here who knew Zamrabia 9:3 by heart.

“...Since the High Priest requests it, I will gladly...”

She trailed off deliberately, then nodded in acceptance. Aterra bowed his head in response, respectfully silent—but Ayra’s Favorability window blared noisily.

[Aterra te Act’s Favorability -3! Current: -41]

[Aterra te Act’s Favorability -4! Current: -45]

And yet—strangely—

[Aterra te Act’s Favorability +3! Current: -42]

[Aterra te Act’s Favorability -4! Current: -46]

Wait, what? Did his favorability go up just now...?

Before Ayra could make sense of that, she began to recite.

“Zamrabia 9:3—‘Thus was Zamrabia stoned by the crowd, and the crimson field set aflame. Black ash rose to cover the sky. As his blood stained the snowy mountains, the god grew wrathful and shook the earth for nine days...’”

Her voice rang clearly through the worship hall. Without hesitation, she recited the full passage—detailing Zamrabia’s trials, his devout death, and the divine retribution that followed. She even tacked on a flawless interpretation of the teachings, so seamless that not even Aterra could find fault.

Even Logia, who had granted Ayra the honorary title out of gratitude, looked genuinely startled.

And then—

Ding!

[Territory Notification: Approval Rating +1%! Current: 19%]

[Territory Notification: Approval Rating +2%! Current: 21%]

[Dalrok Logia’s Favorability +2! Current: 90]

[Aterra te Act’s Favorability +3! Current: -43]

[Aterra te Act’s Favorability -4! Current: -47]

Still going down. Yep, that was more like it.

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Aterra took a long breath, then spoke in an eerily calm tone.

“Thank you, Lord Ayra. That was a most edifying sermon.”

Logia too turned to Ayra, his face filled with genuine admiration. Then he slowly turned toward Aterra, his eyes sharp.

And in a quiet voice, he delivered the finishing blow.

“...Now, unless I’m mistaken, isn’t the High Priest of Solar supposed to be Aterra la Theon? You’re far too young to hold such a title. What was your name again? And what exactly... is your role?”

Aterra’s face blanched. He could no longer maintain his composure.

Ayra, who had been waiting for this moment, let her lips curl into a quiet, satisfied smirk.

All this time—through the chaos, the plummeting approval, the attacks on her position—she had kept sharpening the blade aimed at this insufferable priest.

And the key to it all had been a question she’d asked herself long ago:

“Why didn’t Aterra, as High Priest, know about the quarry permits issued by the main temple?”

That answer, she had pieced together through conversations with Jinas... and her letters with Dalrok Logia.