I’m an Immigration Officer!

3,129 people.
The number doesn’t really hit you on paper. It just seems like a lot, nothing more.

Not enough to call it a massive crowd, but still too many to consider it small.
But once you actually see it with your own eyes, you can’t help but feel overwhelmed by the sheer mass of people.
Just like how Saint Erjena feels as she stands on the platform, staring at the sea of faces below her.

...
The southern plains of the continent were originally a desolate stretch of land, so empty it felt almost eerie.
Just grass, dirt, and the occasional exhausted bird flapping by.

But once the banner with the rose-patterned cross was planted into the ground and the pilgrimage decided to set up camp here, the empty plain instantly filled with people.
Now, with the morning dew glistening on the grass, Saint Erjena stood silently, facing 6,258 eyes all fixed on her.
Even the slight elevation of the platform allowed her to see the entire crowd, packed so densely that they completely covered the plains.

— Fwoooosh…
Breathing felt difficult.
A person can feel suffocated just by ten pairs of eyes staring at them.
But three thousand?

Her heart pounded so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of her chest. Her mouth went dry.
Not a single person said a word.
Despite the massive crowd, the oppressive silence felt almost surreal.

But Erjena didn’t flinch. She didn’t waver.
She slowly scanned the crowd that was staring at her.
Children and the elderly. Men and women. Humans and elves. Wolfkin and other races. Horses and carriages, and even crows circling above her.

For quite some time, Erjena looked at each and every one of them.
And for that same amount of time, the pilgrims looked back at her in silence.
Despite their long journey, not a single one of them seemed tired.
If anything, they stared at her with a desperate hope, with a hunger in their eyes, as if they were aching for something only she could give.
Finally, Erjena glanced back at the musicians behind her.
Then, she gripped the long, thin staff before her with both hands.

— Fuuuu…
With a deep exhale, a puff of white mist escaped her lips.
Along with that breath, she expelled every last drop of fear and tension from her body.
— Inhale…

This time, she leaned her head all the way back, taking in a deep, freezing breath until her lungs were completely filled with the crisp morning air.
And then—
— HELLO EVERYONE!!!!!!!!!!! GOOD MORNINGGGGGG!!!!!!

Her clear, amplified voice, infused with divine power, blasted across the plains, echoing all the way to the horizon.
The crowd responded with a deafening roar.
— GOOOOD MORNING!!!
— ERJENA! SAINT ERJENA!!!
— She looked at me! The Saint looked at me!
— No, no! She was looking at the horizon! At the future and the Lord beyond it!

Voices grew louder, people started babbling incoherently in their excitement.
Some were so overwhelmed they even fainted.
Erjena let the crowd revel in their hysteria for a moment before raising her voice again, louder this time:

— ARE YOU ALL READY TO PRAISE OUR FATHER IN HEAVEN?!?!?!?
— YEEEESSSSS!!!
— IS THAT HOW LOUD YOU’RE GONNA PRAISE HIM?! DO YOU THINK HE CAN HEAR YOU?! I WANT YOU TO SCREAM SO LOUD THE WHOLE WORLD CAN HEAR YOU!!!
— AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!
The earth-shaking roar of the crowd echoed into the sky.
The freezing morning air grew thick with the heat of thousands of bodies screaming in unison.

At that very moment, the sun rose over the horizon, casting a blinding halo behind Erjena.
— THE SUN HAS RISEN! THE LORD HAS HEARD US!
— THE LORD HAS BLESSED THE SAINT!
Erjena didn’t let the moment slip by.

Her sky-blue hair glowed under the morning light as holy power radiated from her body.
— WE’RE STARTING WITH HYMN #174, “KILL THE UNBELIEVERS”! YOU ALL KNOW THE WORDS, RIGHT?! LET’S GO!!! EVERYONE, DANCEEEEE!!!
The orchestra erupted with a screeching melody, loud enough to burst eardrums.

All 3,129 people, without a single exception, plunged headfirst into a frenzy.
This is why they call her the Saint of Rock Spirit.
Since her proclamation as a Saint, the Holy Church had entered a golden age of revival.

 
****
The chaotic spectacle finally ended after 22 songs, with the crowd’s voices completely hoarse.

Originally, they were supposed to perform just five songs, but Saint Erjena, high on the crowd’s energy, ended up doing 17 encores.
As a result, the captain of the Holy Knights, Moahim, spent an additional hour and a half enduring the auditory assault with earplugs shoved deep into his ears.
— Flap.

— Ugh, I’m dead. Moahim, it’s over. — Erjena staggered into the tent, barely able to walk straight.
— Excellent job, Your Holi… Oh.
The moment Moahim turned to look at her, he froze in place.

Her appearance was… disastrous.
On her forehead, large letters spelled out, “Heaven for Believers, Hell for Unbelievers.”
On both cheeks, she had drawn bright red crosses.
She looked like a crazed cultist, not a Saint.

And in her right hand, she clutched a guitar that was now nothing more than a few splintered pieces of wood hanging by a string.
— Uh… What happened?
— Huh? What do you mean? — Erjena tilted her head, genuinely confused.
Moahim took a deep breath.

— You broke another instrument, I see.
He decided not to mention her face. She didn’t even seem to realize there was a problem.
— Oh, yeah. The believers were just so into it that I guess I got a little carried away.

That was the sixth instrument she’d destroyed during her performances.
Judging by the state of her clothes, she must have been screaming and thrashing around like a madwoman.
Her once-white robe was soaked with sweat, now clinging to her body like a second skin, nearly see-through.
Her sky-blue hair was plastered to her forehead, neck, and shoulders in damp, clinging strands.

— You really have some morning energy, Your Holiness. Anyway… how about we wipe off that, uh, makeup first?
Moahim snapped his fingers, and a maid who had been waiting in the corner rushed forward with a towel to wipe down Erjena’s face and body.
Moahim, meanwhile, walked over to the table and spread out the map, turning his back to the Saint as she disappeared behind a partition to change clothes.

— We’re approaching the border of the Kingdom of Crossroads, Your Holiness. We’ll be there in two days.
— Oh, already? That was faster than I thought. I expected it to take another four or five days.
— Thanks to the holy power you’ve been pouring onto the pilgrims every morning, they’re practically brimming with energy.
“Thanks to you, I’m not even that hungry,” Moahim added, picking up a piece of bread from the table and taking a bite.
At that, Erjena poked her head through the gap in the partition and narrowed her eyes.

“Ah! You didn’t listen to my singing again, did you? You can’t do that. Moahim, you’re at the age where you need to start taking care of your health.”
“Your Holiness, your music just isn’t to my taste. I apologize. I prefer quieter songs.”
Despite his words, Moahim couldn’t deny that the aching in his knees, which had plagued him for fifteen years after being struck by the Evil God Cult’s spear, had completely vanished.
‘It was a wound that even priests and healers couldn’t fix.’

For years, no amount of prayers or healing magic could get rid of the throbbing pain and the limp that came with it. But now, it was as if the injury had never existed.
He felt as energized as he had in his youth.
And it wasn’t just him.

The original 726 pilgrims who had started the journey were mostly sick or [N O V E L I G H T] injured.
But now, they had transformed into the most vigorous and energetic members of the group, the first to jump and dance like maniacs during the morning performances.
A miracle.
Or perhaps just the power of faith.

Moahim glanced toward the partition behind which Erjena was changing.
‘This is an absurd miracle.’
Saint Erjena’s holy power was in a league of its own.

“Hmph. Hmph-hmph~.”
The abstract power that no one could ever truly see was now swirling around her like a shimmering aura, visible even to the naked eye.
She didn’t need to pray.
She didn’t need to meditate in solitude.
She didn’t need to carve holy scriptures into her flesh or battle the corrupted.

All she had to do was sing.
Loudly. Wildly. With just a hint of madness.
And that alone granted her more power than an archbishop could ever hope to amass after a lifetime of asceticism.
‘Of course… the only problem is that her music genre is nothing like the traditional choir hymns.’

Moahim had served two Saints before her, but he had never seen anyone as lively, half-crazed, and blessed with such overwhelming divine power as Erjena.
Which was precisely why her role in this northern pilgrimage — or rather, the northern expedition — was so significant.
“Faithful religious activities are wonderful, Your Holiness, but please don’t forget why we’re heading north,” Moahim reminded her.

Now dressed in slightly more subdued clothing, Erjena plopped herself down in a chair.
Fortunately, the words on her forehead had been wiped away.
“Oh, I know, I know. We’re going to the north to get that amazing wine, right? What was it again? Frost Dragon Wine?”
“Your Holiness.”
“Oh, come on! I was just joking! It’s about purging the remnants of the Evil God Cult and cleansing the corrupted idols. I haven’t forgotten.”
Despite her playful grin, Erjena’s finger absentmindedly drew a cross on the ground.
Moahim’s gaze followed her finger to where a single blade of grass sprouted from the dirt she had touched.

If she had so much power that she could share it with 3,000 followers and still have enough to make plants grow at her fingertips, then she was a walking weapon against the Evil God Cult.
‘The intel is solid. The remnants of the Evil God Cult are hiding in the northern empire.’
This was a golden opportunity to fulfill the Holy Church’s long-standing goal.

If they could just cross the northern border, they could unite with their northern brethren and wipe out the Evil God Cult once and for all.
But to do so, they first had to pass through a critical checkpoint.
“Everything has gone smoothly so far, but the immigration officers in the Kingdom of Crossroads concern me,” Moahim said.
“Huh? Immigration officers? Why?”
“The Kingdom of Crossroads abhors war and conflict. They despise religious disputes even more. If they learn of our true intentions, they might refuse us entry.”

The purging of the Evil God Cult.
It was not a mission that could be carried out peacefully.
There would undoubtedly be resistance, and countless attempts to harm the Saint. In other words, a violent clash was inevitable.

The northern brothers and sisters were already stockpiling weapons and military supplies, preparing for a final assault.
If the immigration officers caught wind of this, they might also deduce the true purpose of the pilgrimage.
“So, Your Holiness, when they ask, just say that you’re visiting the north to bless the holy sites and encourage the faithful.”
“Haha. Are you asking me to lie, Moahim? What if the Lord gets angry at me?”
“Of course not. On the surface, you really are visiting to bless the faithful. I’m merely suggesting that you don’t need to reveal all our cards.”
“Hmmm. If even the Holy Knight Captain says that, it must be serious.”

Erjena straightened in her seat, her expression shifting to something colder, sharper.
“You’re saying that they could reject the sacred mission of eradicating evil under the guise of ‘maintaining peace’?”
“They’re afraid of being accused of enabling a war.”
“Even if it’s a war against heretics?”
“To them, it’s all the same.”
The playful light in Erjena’s eyes vanished.

“All the same.”
She repeated Moahim’s words, her tone devoid of her usual mirth.
“They know who we are. They know that I am the will of the Lord incarnate. And yet, they would dare to stand in my way?”

Her gaze fell to the map on the table, directly on the small, insignificant Kingdom of Crossroads.
A nation smaller than most kingdoms and empires.
Nestled between the Uralkaras Mountains, its location was a stroke of luck.

She understood.
Situated at the most vital crossroads of the continent, the kingdom had been the target of countless invasions and manipulations.
Even the simple act of opening their borders could be perceived as aiding an invading force.
And siding with one faction meant turning the others into enemies.

It was a harsh reality born from a history of constant conflict and backstabbing.
She understood.
But that didn’t mean she had to accept it.

“What a heretical way of thinking…”
They were different.
They weren’t here to seize territory or claim trade routes out of greed.

The Holy Knights had drawn their swords for a purpose far more noble and sacred than the desires of unbelievers.
To purge evil.
To eradicate the heretics known as the Evil God Cult and restore the glory of the true Creator, the Almighty Lord.

They were the chosen ones, carrying out a divine mission that all of the Lord’s creations were meant to follow.
And they dared to deny that mission under the flimsy excuse of “maintaining peace”?
Erjena’s fingers clenched the corner of the table, the wood creaking under the pressure.

“I don’t like it.”
With just those three words, a surge of holy power rippled through the tent.