''Where is your staff?'' Your voice doesn’t waver; perhaps it’s a good thing you haven’t visited the Mamono village yet. ''Delegating and helping to administer the city is one thing, but there’s also the vital duty of elevating community leaders and maintainers of shrines. All I’ve seen here are acolytes my age.''
Three pairs of eyes bring silent judgment upon him.

''Eichenwald was founded five years ago,'' Belmont begins, speaking with a downcast head. ''The first major expansion of the entire Allied Kingdoms since our near annihilation 200 years ago. This city... is our way to show our great realms are truly growing. This is prestige that truly matters.'' He speaks with increasing confidence, regaining the strength to look into your eyes. Where are your folks, priest? It’s probably better not to press that for now.

''Yet nobody cares anymore.'' The only thing that lets Belmont control his anger is the fact that you aren’t taunting him. ''I’ve spent my entire life on the road, Belmont, and after the initial excitement of the founding and the establishment of the Shrine Tree, Eichenwald became a simple city like any other. This prestige likely matters to the nobility, but people like us, those who walk among the common folk?'' You shake your head. ''Right now, everyone is worried about the Demon Lord’s potential alliance with the queen of Kreszenz.''
The silence in his office makes your mouth dry, but you continue.

''Right now, an entire community is not only left to rot but it’s also being abused by newcomers. If you can help me help you, Sir Belmont, then I’d be more than willing to keep an open mind about Olin’s tragedy instead of forcing our baron’s hand with a tribunal.''
After nearly a full minute of silence, you walk away from the bishop’s desk to look at your friends. Has he completely shut down?

''Help me help you, huh?'' As he says this, the man opens a lower drawer to extract a set of keys. ''Fine, allow me to show you a worrying fact about our new, normal city.''
Belmont leads your group out of his office and back into the corridor to open the closest heavy door. It opens into a wide space occupied by tables and a small kitchen. A handful of acolytes are idling about and immediately try to look busy when the bishop appears. Still, he ignores them and leads you toward a cage-like door that opens into the basement; a faint golden-white luminescence from below indicates alchemical lamps lighting the path.

After walking down a dozen stairs, a gateway with two open metal doors reveals a wide basement full of foundational pillars but also a very worrying sight.
Around thirty beds are aligned, most of them occupied by motionless people of a wide range of ages, sexes, and builds, thankfully no children. Six nuns inspecting the patients all look at your intrusion with shock or displeasure; the sharp smell of medicines aggressively assaults your nostrils, and Seyraphal erupts into a coughing fit.