Chapter 210

The wandering lambs are ignorant.

They’re also impulsive, simple, and emotional.

A blind man can’t see even an inch ahead.

To the deaf, a hundred or a thousand words might as well not exist.

If the warrior hadn’t defeated the Golden Beast, the Demon King…

The first thing to disappear in this world would have been faith.

Crisis and despair, indiscriminate oppression and unhappiness may bolster faith, but…

…even that was thought to be controllable by none other than the Golden Beast itself.

Thus…

Even after the Demon King’s defeat, the majority of religions across the continent fell into ruin.

In that sense, Irene’s Doctrine stood firm.

Their warrior ultimately vanquished the Demon King, their Holy Maiden saved the world…

Their believers and their nation were the first to unite and consolidate…

And they expanded their influence from there.

This was due to their meticulous methods of conversion.

The ancient and long-transmitted faith and teachings…

Even the ways of conversion and enlightenment were passed down specifically and in detail.

If only they could bring those scattered individuals one by one to participate in worship…

Everything would resolve.

Sacred hymns.

Sacred music.

Capturing the auditory senses with strange yet archaic attire that ensnares the visual.

Gracious words.

Merciful words.

Thankful words.

Content woven from profound phrases so ancient that renowned poets, playwrights, and writers would instinctively bow their heads, delivered through meticulously trained followers via readings and sermons, relentlessly pouring onto believers and potential converts.

But that’s not all.

The hymns and prayers at the start and end, the confession of faith…

It encompasses each individual, defining them simultaneously as a group, a collective, a crowd, tying them together as a community.

The atmosphere created thereby acts as an inescapable snare for spineless individuals, reed-like in their instability.

But is that all?

Worship doesn’t merely repeat faith and doctrine.

Sometimes it encourages and influences local social events.

The direction pursued by the preacher affects the flow and color of the worship.

Dignity, legitimate authority, qualification.

And the place where all this takes place.

All this creates proper authority, granting legitimacy to every action.

For example, an emperor’s speech to his people and a priest’s during worship differ only in scale.

On another note, a mere bandit gang boosting morale before their underlings isn’t entirely different either.

The fundamentals are the same.

Will you be the one wielding power?

Or the one being wielded?

Will you give orders?

Or receive them?

‘Inviting them into the world I’ve built.’

Not according to their personal thoughts or ideals…

…but immersing them in my thoughts, plans, dreams, perhaps hopes and entertainment.

That is…

…the duty of a leader, which I learned from His Majesty the Emperor.

‘Therefore, leaders must never be blind or foolish,’ he said.

A snake’s head can never become its tail.

Nor can the tail ever become the head.

In that sense, this speech has been carefully planned on multiple levels.

The queen laid the groundwork, and based on that, I’ve drawn out every ounce of authority I can muster.

Even if the content is somewhat lacking, it doesn’t matter.

Before dignity and authority, clumsy and naive things are often overestimated.

One by one.

All of it.

“…”

It started from the palm of my hand.

“There was supposed to be some big event, but all we got was chaos, right? Nothing really happened, did it?”

The sun is setting.

The square has turned into a festival, food and drinks are being exchanged.

Though an ascetic race, they too enjoy drinking and revelry.

From there, I brought back traditions they’ve forgotten or lost.

The harmonious performance of several types of flutes and string instruments.

Then selecting a few with exceptionally powerful voices to sing lyrics and whistle to stir excitement.

Finally, broadcasting the music widely using spirit magic.

Rewriting the songs, music, and melodies of their distant ancestors to fit the sensibilities of this era, I let them flow.

The dozens of joint concerts lasting over an hour must have been quite an unusual experience for the onlookers.

…For Irene’s Doctrine, it’d be a common sight in grand cathedrals during Sunday worship.

Within Irene’s Doctrine, there are several factions, but the reformists emphasize simplifying mass for versatility, accessibility, and convenience, focusing more on the rituals of worship.

While it might feel odd for heretics… it’s smoother for unbelievers.

…However, I had no intention of mimicking the rituals of the church here.

I merely needed the effects they could provide.

“If nothing major happens, that’s fortunate. If it does, it’ll be irreversible, won’t it?”

“That… is true.”

“And since it’s not over yet, don’t be disappointed.”

“…When you say it like that, it feels even more ominous.”

Night falls.

The sun disappeared long ago.

Even the horizon and its edges show only faint red glimmers.

Blink a few times, and the sky will soon turn blue.

Then darker, darker still.

Endlessly dark.

And countless stars unseen by the naked eye will once again reveal their presence.

“But God of the Sacred Tree ascending… that’s quite shocking, isn’t it?”

“…”

Carriel shrugged.

“So, does that mean the empty seat will now be filled by our descendants?”

“Obviously.”

How could we not fill it?

Leave it vacant or fill it with something new?

It’s up to you to handle it.

“…”

It won’t be easy immediately.

Even though I’ve polished and softened the words, fundamentally, telling them that all blessings and favors received from the World Tree have vanished is just me sugarcoating and distorting the truth.

However, funerals are ceremonies for the living anyway; whether it affects the dead or not, we don’t know.

That’s how worldly matters go.

That’s why we work so hard to uncover truths and facts.

“You mentioned when you were nineteen… how much time is left?”

“Hmm.”

“Don’t you know your own age?”

“I’m not curious.”

Age is just a number.

Unless reaching a certain age brings absolute transformation or change, it’s ultimately just that—a number.

“Looking at you like this, you seem pretty twisted.”

“Flattering words.”

“…It’s not a compliment.”

As I chatted with her, the sun finally set completely.

“Oddly enough, there weren’t many who showed resentment about the announcement of your engagement to His Majesty.”

“The High Elves didn’t seem to mind either?”

“Let’s pass over that side since they’re always full of complaints.”

Even Lady Remira herself was a High Elf.

“It’s well-known among us that you’ve gotten along well with our kind.”

“If it’s good, then it’s good.”

Building friendships and fostering camaraderie…

All necessary actions.

We’re already reaping the benefits now.

The reason there’s little resentment toward me is because over a long period, I’ve steadily stacked up behaviors and actions that earned their favor and goodwill.

There’s no shortcut for this.

You have to stack it up bit by bit, like storing grain in a warehouse.

Of course, you need to manage the warehouse well.

If rats eat away or the contents lose flavor, crying later won’t help.

In that sense, I’ve naturally cultivated close friendships with the extremely few members of other races staying in Ardisus.

Bonds between outsiders naturally form, but if they don’t, I’d force them to.

“Still, that light… it was really surprising.”

“…”

“Because you can use such abilities, you’re called the bloodline of Radiance, right?”

With a small cough and chuckle, I responded inwardly.

It’s really not much.

Though the music was artificially induced, I had no choice but to mobilize it.

This cannot be artificial.

‘After all, it was just a trivial sleight of hand.’

Yet, it’s a technique not everyone can pull off.

It’s something I developed further while traveling abroad, originally shown to me casually by Mother.

Even simple displays sometimes get mistaken for divine miracles or wonders, benefiting me greatly.

It’s not just simple lighting, glow, or magical illumination.

It differs from what’s commonly known as divine power or divine magic.

And it’s distinct from white magic as well.

This is purely for show.

And that light thoroughly mimics and replicates the sacred light emitted by the holy ones.

Precisely the radiance seen when Mother prayed or used divine power…

Or the glow revealed when Father drew his sacred sword.

Anyway, just by showing this, plenty will misunderstand in a favorable way, thinking I deserve the title of a descendant of Radiance.

“In three days of festivities, and then spreading the news across the continent… within less than a hundred days, the whole continent will know this fact. Just a rough estimate.”

“Surprisingly, you seem to know such things?”

“…Being near His Majesty, how could I not?”

My position remains near the top of the many high steps leading into the upper temple.

Sitting there to catch my breath is quite pleasant.

High Elves throwing disapproving looks at sitting directly on the ground? Too bad.

“Well, let’s go then.”

“…Where to?”

“Toward the World Tree.”

“To pray?”

“…Somewhat similar.”

To do that, first…

“…Do I have to come down here? It’s bothersome.”

“Just descend carefully with a respectful heart.”

“Can I just jump down dramatically?”

“…That’s impossible.”

Really?

I wanted to leap down safely from a height, but alas.

====

“The level of danger is different now. He must be killed without fail.”

Near the forest, not in the cave, Kailan calmly nodded at the shadowy man cloaked in black whose eyes were bleak and whose words were deliberately spoken.

“But if your queen marries into the Empire of Radiance, unification of East and West might not be mere talk.”

“So what? Do you think I’ll change my mind? Are you worried about that?”

“I can’t guarantee otherwise.”

The atmosphere is tense.

No killing intent is felt, yet the aura is razor-sharp.

A finely honed blade, a weapon… its mere existence inspires fear.

“If that were the case, you would have already been buried by the forest without us lifting a finger.”

“That’s why we remain silent.”

“Then stop talking unnecessarily. It looks dirty.”

It’s complicated.

And it’s probably not just Kailan’s personal anguish.

Comrades and allies who shared opinions, even the queen and the councilors, the senators, and even priests, have lost the will to act against the situation.

If Kailan himself had leaked his connection to remnants of the demon race… he wouldn’t have remained unscathed either.

‘But this is an opportunity.’

Even if the human child is assassinated, the responsibility the elves must bear will be vastly heavier than before.

Once the engagement ceremony takes place, there will be no turning back.

At that point, the human child will effectively become…

“Our burden grows heavier.”

“…So will you retreat now?”

“No way.”

Both are beyond the point of no return.

Would an obtuse legion commander withdraw here?

Kailan can use this to overcome the crisis and achieve success.

The moment he stepped into this place, it became irreversible.

Even if Bargo and himself somehow escape alone…

…his subordinates who struggled to follow will meet a meaningless death.

“…”

Therefore, Bargo had no choice but to cling to Kailan.

Moreover,

Kailan could be exposed by his comrades at any time.

But if the situation drastically changes, an opportunity will arise.

“The heir of Radiance will reside in the queen’s palace starting today.”

“Not yet.”

“…Fortunately, he headed toward the Sacred Tree’s sanctuary.”

“Understood.”

Once the assassination is confirmed, they must simultaneously expose the betrayal of the queen and the senators all at once.

Strictly speaking, assassination and exposure should not be linked.

But if these two happen coincidentally and properly align…

Thereafter, only chaos and confusion will prevail.

‘If that happens…’

…even His Excellency, unwilling as he may be, will have no choice but to rise up.

And that chaos will naturally fall into His Excellency’s hands to resolve.

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