Organ rental company in another world

On the church's dome, stained glass windows filter the afternoon sunlight into dappled halos, casting it onto the rosewood platform in the center of the main hall.

The Pope's body lay there quietly, his eyes covered with paper, his body covered with a snow-white linen cloth, and surrounded by white lilies picked from the church garden.

His hands were folded in front of his chest. His once full body now looked somewhat withered, and the white priest's robe looked empty on him, as if it were just a skeleton.

Yesterday, the Pope's body was emptied, and his internal organs were placed in several terracotta jars and placed in the crypt of the church, alongside the jars containing the organs of previous popes.

Dried rosemary, lavender, spices, and cotton soaked in a special medicinal solution were carefully stuffed inside. This solution not only served as a preservative but also slowly released a faint fragrance to mask the smell of death.

The choir stood on either side of the high platform, twenty young men and women dressed in white robes with golden holy symbols embroidered on the collars, their ethereal voices rising slowly in the church.

"...May the Holy Emperor's gaze be upon your soul, and may you find eternal rest in the Holy Land..."

King Saint Oran stood at the front, followed by Dante and his brown-robed messengers, then hundreds of believers in white robes and members of the public who had come to pay their respects. The church was large enough to accommodate them all, but to maintain solemnity, the entrance was still guarded by parishioners, who allowed only those who had been selected to enter.

Duke Angre stood in the line of nobles, his large body taut in his white robe, his expression a perfect blend of sorrow and piety.

His gaze would occasionally sweep over Dante's back, lingering for a moment before quickly shifting away, as if afraid of being caught by that gaze.

As the last note faded, the funeral drew to a close, and the pope's body would be displayed in the church for three days before being buried.

Saint Oran, accompanied by his guards, left first, followed by Dante: "Please wait, Your Majesty, I have something I wish to discuss with you."

"Your Majesty, let's move to the garden and talk more." Saint Oran gestured for the guards to move aside, and then Dante got into the king's carriage.

In the palace gardens, a gentle breeze carries the scent of roses as it rustles through the neatly trimmed bushes.

King Saint Oran and Dante walked side by side on the cobblestone path, with a few servants following at a distance, maintaining just the right distance.

In the very center of the garden stood a pavilion, its white stone pillars covered in vines. Tea and snacks were already laid out on the stone table inside. The two went in and sat down on the stone benches.

After the servant poured tea for the two men, Saint Oran waved him away.

"Your Majesty, this is a tea blend carefully prepared by the royal tea master using this year's newly harvested spring tea. Please enjoy," Saint Oran said, raising his hand to Dante.

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Dante picked up his teacup, took a small sip, and said, "It's a pity that the tea master wasn't a candidate for sainthood, otherwise I would have made an exception and brought him to the Holy Kingdom."

"His Holiness the Dharma King did not seek me out for tea, does he? Please speak freely."

"Your Majesty, I have heard something and would like to ask you about it."

"Please speak."

"About Belgreid." Dante raised his head, his sharp eyes fixed on Saint Oran. "I heard that a rebellion broke out in Belgreid recently, and even the Duke died. The instigators were a few dark mages."

After Dante finished speaking, he picked up his teacup and drank it all in one gulp. Then, while pouring tea, he looked at Saint Oran and waited for Saint Oran's reply.

"Yes, that's true, but the rebellion has been quelled. Louisa and Darian led reinforcements and wiped out the rebels. However, Melisandre's son has gone mad, and they're currently arguing fiercely over the successor."

"That's good, but I still don't quite understand why you felt comfortable sending Louisa there. Didn't she get infected with madness before because of those rebels? Or do you have a more convenient way to eliminate madness besides the purification ritual?"

Having said this much, Dante's imposing presence was quite evident. Although his tone was very humble, Saint Oran could already sense the anger between the lines.

The old man is already suspecting that we are colluding with the black magician.

Seeing that Saint Oran was also using tea to buy himself time to think, Dante's gaze turned hostile.

boom!

Saint Oran finished his tea, smashed the empty cup on the table, and his eyes revealed undisguised anger.

"You knew too? You knew Luisa was poisoned by madness? If so, why did you turn a deaf ear when we came down to you to break the curse on Luisa!"

Dante was speechless at these words. Seeing Saint Oran's bleeding right hand, he could only reply while treating him, "I'm so sorry, I was unwell at the time and couldn't come."

"Hmph, you just didn't want to come, didn't you? You'd love for Louisa to die."

"Your Majesty! We absolutely did not mean that!"

Seeing that the situation was gradually stabilizing, Saint Oran decided not to make things difficult for him any further.

He knew that the Theocracy had always regarded Louisa as a thorn in its side, because once this old Dante died, the Theocracy would have no deterrent power over the Kingdom of Eton.

"Your Majesty, I apologize for my words today, but I am quite certain that dark magicians have infiltrated the kingdom. Please handle this matter seriously." Dante rose and bowed slightly to Saint Oran.

"I understand, take care." Saint Oran breathed a sigh of relief, finally managing to get away with it.

That night, the council chamber of the palace was brightly lit.

Saint Oran sat at the head of the long table, with Duke Angre sitting opposite him, his obese body filling the chair, holding a glass of red wine and sipping it slowly.

"Dante has already realized that we are colluding with the dark sorcerers," Saint Oran said bluntly.

"Your Majesty, rest assured," Angre said with his usual smile, "that thing is almost ready."

"I don't want to hear 'it's almost over,' give me a definite answer: how much longer will it take?"

Angre thought for a moment, then held up three fingers. "Three days at most."

"Three days..." Saint Oran pondered for a moment, "Are you sure it can handle Dante?"

"I'm not sure. Although they assured me that there would be no problem, Dante hasn't made a move in a long time, and nobody knows how powerful that old monster really is."

"But this has nothing to do with Your Majesty. You just need to do as usual. I will direct all the plans. Even if they fail, it will be my responsibility alone."

Saint Oran nodded and waved his hand, indicating that he could leave.

Angre turned and left the council chamber, his obese figure disappearing into the shadows of the corridor. Farai silently emerged from the darkness and followed behind him.

"Fara," Angre said as he walked, "go back and tell those guys to speed things up. We only have three days. In three days, I'll lead Dante there."

"Yes, sir."