A flicker of surprise passed through his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by solemnity.

"Father, please allow me to make the introductions." Count Raymond stepped aside, his tone filled with clear respect. "This is the Governor of the Northern Monte Territory, the esteemed Thunder Sword, Lord Melfield, along with his wife, Lady Aurora, and Miss Eleanor, the daughter of Duke Temeris. His Lordship heard of the guidance and help you’ve provided in my territory and specifically wished to meet you."

Upon hearing this, Father Anderson’s expression immediately grew more solemn.

He took two steps forward and bowed to Murphy. "May the tranquility of Oriane be with you, esteemed Lord Melfield. Your arrival brings great honor to this humble place."

He then bowed to Aurora and Eleanor, his bearing impeccably proper.

"Father Anderson." Murphy gave a slight nod in return. His calm gaze swept over the priest’s faded robe and serene face, finally settling on his gentle yet undeniably weary gray-blue eyes. "The Count just mentioned that some of the reform efforts within his territory have benefited from your guidance. Particularly your interpretation of the Path of protection and justice in the Holy Scripture of Truth."

Father Anderson lowered his head humbly. "You flatter me, My Lord. The Count already possesses a benevolent heart. I am merely fulfilling my duty as a member of the Clergy by sharing my crude understanding of the Holy Scripture and lending what little strength I have as he performs his acts of charity. All glory belongs to Oriane, and to the Count’s own kindness and courage."

"That mother and child from earlier," Murphy’s gaze shifted toward the room, where the coughing had grown fainter. "How are they?"

When it came to specifics, Father Anderson explained, "The child has a high fever from a cold. We’ve given him some herbal soup, and he just needs to rest. As for Lady Ada... she is suffering mainly from overwhelming grief, coupled with prolonged hunger and anxiety. She is utterly exhausted, in both body and spirit."

"I’ve had a maidservant see to them so they can rest and have some light food. According to the rules established by the Count, once they’ve recovered a bit, we’ll record their details and disburse money and provisions from the mutual aid fund."

He paused, his voice lowering with compassion. "Such suffering is not uncommon in the countryside. A single illness, a single accident, is enough to plunge a family into the abyss. The Count’s fund, while unable to save everyone, at least gives them a glimmer of light—a way to survive. It is a good deed, in line with the teachings of the Holy Scripture."

Listening from the side, a look of mingled emotion—gratitude and relief—appeared on Count Raymond’s face. He was clearly very moved by the priest’s words and support.

Murphy didn’t delve deeper into the topic. Led by Father Anderson, the group went inside to take a seat.

This was a room slightly larger than the one next door.

The furnishings were extremely simple: an old desk, a few shelves filled with books and scrolls, a small prayer kneeler, and several chairs. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

The walls were plain white stone, with almost no decoration save for a small window letting in light.

However, Murphy’s gaze was immediately drawn to the single portrait hanging on the wall above the desk.

It was a half-length portrait. While the artist’s technique was not master-class, the painting was meticulously detailed.

The figure in the painting wore a simple white robe, a shoulder cape, and a small cap. His face was gaunt, his eyes deep and serene, even carrying a trace of compassion.

He was not looking directly out of the painting; his gaze was turned slightly to one side, as if he were contemplating something invisible or listening to a distant voice.

There was no signature beneath the portrait, only a simple date.

Murphy gazed at the portrait for a moment before slowly wheeling himself closer. "And who is this?"

Father Anderson followed Murphy’s gaze to the portrait, and an exceedingly complex expression flickered across his face—a mixture of reverence, remembrance, and anguish.

He remained silent for several seconds before answering in an exceptionally deep voice:

"A guide who influenced me profoundly."

Count Raymond had noticed the painting as well. He had obviously seen it before, but under Murphy’s intense gaze, he too seemed to sense an unusual atmosphere, and confusion flickered in his eyes.

Without turning, his eyes still on the portrait, Murphy said, "The core principles behind the Count’s experiments... they don’t simply come from a broad interpretation of the Holy Scripture. They originate with the person this portrait depicts, don’t they?"

Father Anderson nodded firmly, without a hint of hesitation. "As expected of the Thunder Sword, famed throughout the Continent. You saw it on your very first visit."

Count Raymond stared at the priest in surprise, his eyes darting to the portrait. He had asked similar questions in the past, but the priest had never given him such an answer.

Murphy turned to Father Anderson. "The ideals upheld by the man in the painting... does he believe that wealth built on the suffering of the majority is a blasphemy against God’s will? Does he advocate that the Church and the Lords have a responsibility to ’correct’ this injustice, even if it means shaking the foundations of the current order?"

Father Anderson nodded. "You are correct, Lord Melfield. You see with perfect clarity. This portrait... and the person it represents are truly the source of all my convictions, and the first beacon on the Path the Count now follows."

He paused, as if gathering the courage to say the name, his gray-blue eyes fixed on Murphy:

"The person in the painting is the former Pope, Fuer II of the Holy Throne."

"Fuer II..." Murphy repeated in a low voice.

Count Raymond, however, sucked in a sharp breath, his face instantly turning deathly pale.

The Pope!

And Fuer II, of all people...

Father Anderson ignored the Count’s shock. His gaze seemed to pass through the wall in front of him, looking back into the past. "When I was young, I studied at the Vatican Academy. At that time, Fuer II of the Holy Throne was still only Cardinal Julian."