The Relics Were Priced Like Shop Goods

The reliquary made the cathedral's argument visible in glass, dust, and labels. This was supposed to be a place of devotion: a corridor of holy objects, memories, offerings, and sacred fragments preserved because they meant something. Instead, the party found devotional things arranged and priced like merchandise. The ruin had not erased the old business model. It had preserved it. Jonah found another Paulus Levius journal. The writing described planted relics and jealous boons, miracles staged and rationed so worshippers could be moved toward the next payment. Faith had been turned into access. Wonder had been turned into inventory. Even holiness had been made to compete with itself. Ash found the hidden exception. Climbing up toward a concealed prayer station, he discovered the Glass Saint Shiv, a relic tucked away from the main display economy. It felt less like a clean reward than another piece of the cathedral's contradiction: a sacred object hidden inside a place where sacredness had been priced until it rotted. The party had crossed from confession into collection. Paulus Levius had sold shame in one room. Here, he had sold miracles.