"Have your people confirm whether she really is Maria!"
Hodgson gave the order.
If that nun really was Maria, then was the Lord's son—the Anointed One, the Messiah—still alive too?
History recorded that the Son of God had been nailed to the Cross for the sins of all humanity and ascended to Heaven forty days later. But history also recorded that Maria had died.
At the thought of the Son of God, his breathing grew heavy.
It felt a little blasphemous to think it, but... the Son of God would be better off in Heaven.
If the Son of God really existed, given his standing in the hearts of the people of the West, the Papal State's prestige would return to what it had been in the Middle Ages. It would once again stand above every nation.
Hodgson might be doing everything he could to cozy up to Saint John XII, even looking for a chance to kiss his boots, but that was on the basis of independence and equality.
His attitude toward the Papal State was like that of a small country relying on a great power politically, not becoming its puppet outright.
"Yes," McDonald replied.
"Until our intelligence agents give us reliable information, we won't get involved in the war between supernatural forces," Hodgson decided.
"As for Pope Saint John XII..." He paused, then said, "Share our intelligence with him, and tell him we're willing to give him substantial assistance."
They had to make that pledge. What they actually did afterward was their own business.
If I drag my feet and slow things down a little, won't the time pass easily enough?
"Ellis, come with me."
Hodgson took Ellis into a small office, shut the door, and asked, "Ellis, how are things going on your end? Have you