Turns Out Everyone Has a Plan (4)

Getting a newspaper was, today of all days, genuinely difficult.

No—had they sold out everywhere he went?

I understand it. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Still.

There was surely not one person in the kingdom who would fail to buy a paper. The articles had struck the people of the South dead center in their appetite for sensation, and the contents were the sort that left you no choice but to pay.

He was no different. He was not reading to chase a thrill, but he was one of the parties who knew the inside of this whole affair. He had to look, didn't he?

A cutting of the tail this bold—no, one that overturned everything…

"—No. The right phrase here is cutting off the head."

Paper snapped. Lee Han read from the headlines of the morning inquest through the Grand Temple affair that claimed every page after, and something that was not quite admiration escaped him anyway. Thoroughness on this scale forced the feeling out of you.

It was an unprecedented disaster, for which even "the kingdom turned upside down overnight" fell short. For some while the whole of the South would be loud with nothing else, and there would not be a peaceful day in it.

…And yet a flower will bloom even in the filthiest mud. Even as the entire nation cursed the temple, it did not spare its sympathy, or its respect, for a certain hero.

Cardinal Michael. An old priest past ninety this year, and still vigorous. He was the man who had sat longest as a cardinal of the temple, and he was known as the head of the moderates.

That same man was now enjoying a fascination no different from overnight stardom, for the extreme act of purifying every leader of the hardliners and every apostate who had followed them. Cutting off their heads and mounting them on stakes was already a performance barbaric and cruel enough on its own, and he had gone further, burning the headless bodies in a spectacle that was frankly grotesque.

Even so.

So all of this counts as reasonable.

It sounded like a joke, but the temple faction known as the hardliners had truly piled up a great many sins. Even the commoners who insisted that anything the temple did was right had been famous for pulling a face at them—the sort of face that said, ah, this is a bit much—because of how extreme their acts were.

A closer look at the present affair had revealed that a great many of the things this hardline power had done were nasty and filthy, and among them was even the slave trade, which the Military God had forbidden long ago. Astonishingly, then, there was not one person among the dead who had died wronged. More than several hundred of them had each committed crimes more than sufficient for a death sentence, and this fellow Michael had drawn his sword, in the name of justice, upon corrupt priests run amok. That was the truth of the purification as the world had been given it, and the people's frenzy for Michael was understandable enough.

And on top of that…

Provocative copy, turned out by a handful of papers. The articles lifted Galahad even as they bared their hostility toward the royal house. It was a classic bit of wedge-driving.

"Did this paper hire nothing but bastards who figure they'll be dead by tomorrow?"

It was exactly the sort of thing to rake the royal mood raw, and a hollow laugh came out of Lee Han before he could stop it. If his sister the princess saw this, she would probably—

"—You are looking at something filthy."

Riiip!

…Yes. She did look entirely capable of tearing it apart without a moment's hesitation. Lee Han only blinked at the outrage of the silver-haired crown princess, who had appeared out of nowhere, stolen his paper, and ripped it to shreds. And papers had been so hard to come by today…

"…I was still reading that."

"Why soil your eyes on trash like this? Throw it away. Every line of it is packed with false agitation."

"Hmm."

Lee Han scratched his cheek. Her tone was sharper than usual, and her eyes overflowed with cold. She was in a truly foul mood.

"What's the occasion? Coming in person to a shabby place like this?"

Looking to be in a bad mood was one thing. That a person as precious as the crown princess was here at all was another, and he put the question to her bluntly. What, had she come all this way because there was something worth seeing? For heaven's sake.

"Hmph. Your tongue is insolent. When I have come to you, the proper thing is to weep for joy."

"Ah. Yes, yes."

"…Impudent wretch."

Crack!

Isis's fan came down to spit fire. Unfortunately, what gave way was not his head.

It seemed to be her wrist.

"Your wrist is coming apart. You sure that's all right?"

"Hm. This duplicate I use for stealth still needs a little more refining."

"…You really do have every damn thing."

Fortunately, it did not seem to be her real body that had come. Even so, he let out a small breath of admiration.

Look at her long enough, and this sister of mine has a ridiculous range of tricks.

"The temple—those vermin used a thoroughly verminous trick. Worse than maggots, the lot of them—!"

"Ahem."

Isis was a woman who cursed prettily even when she cursed. That she had used the word vermin three times in a row was enough for him to know, in his bones, that her mood had gone past bad and into the worst.

"And yet I cannot deny that the means, however extreme, were certain. The Saint plan, did you call it? They were not satisfied with shoving onto the hardliners every sordid trick they had played to make that absurd plan real. The temple itself has handed down a punishment this severe, so there is no way left even to scold them. And is that all? By giving the credit to Galahad, they have strung the thinnest thread of fellowship between Galahad and the temple. Galahad itself will find it nothing but offensive, but what will the people who watch think? They will nurse the hope that Galahad, too, has come to believe in the temple at last. Kill a mere few hundred pests and reap an effect like this. It is nothing if not a profitable trade."

"Y-you're not even treating them as people?"

"A separate inquiry found that among the crimes committed by priests of the hardliners were the murder of believers, fraud, kidnapping, and the torture of the faithful. What would you call such people?"

"…Spell-peddlers?"

"…What sort of creature, exactly, is a mage to you."

Lee Han understood why Isis refused to treat the dead as people. They were clearly not worth the courtesy—worse than gnolls. No. Lower than beasts.

"If anyone among them can be called wronged, it would be the Pope-King and the cardinal who died. They led the hardliners, yes, but they were nothing more than petty crooks who embezzled money…"

"Th-that's still a crime, isn't it?"

"Under the law of the kingdom, a petty crook of that grade merits nothing but forty years of penal labor."

Lee Han had nothing to say.

…Maybe dying had been a luxury for them.

The whole time he listened, he felt dazed. The temple bastards had plainly done something mad, and yet he could not curse it outright. The men they had used for the cutting of the tail really had been garbage that could not even be recycled.

"What is more absurd is that the moderates are clean, most of them. Cardinal Michael did take money under the table in the name of patronage, but that much is hardly more than a charming little fault. There is nothing to seize on. Hah!"

"…Wow."

He knew it was a slip, but the marvel came out anyway. What were these people?

Why are they this thorough?

More thorough, it seemed to him, than any of the great powers he had faced so far. The knight orders. The sultan. The Magic Tower.

"Still. They bagged the Holy Knight order this time, and the important priests are finished. That's a lot of strength lost, isn't it?"

"Hah. That is so. But with this affair they have taken into their hands a vast gain, greater than the strength they lost. Perhaps they have obtained a power stronger than what they lost."

"…?"

"Trust."

"??"

"They have proved to the world that they are a clean institution. By beheading those who were their own brothers and sisters, and by culling even Holy Knights… the temple has proved it. That they know how to examine themselves."

"Is that such a big deal?"

"Indeed. It is a great one. The people may be disappointed now in the temple's apostasy, but give it a little time and disappointment will turn to admiration, and after that to reverence. They showed the resolve to behead a Holy Knight, a cardinal, or the Pope-King himself, so long as it was for the Light of Radiance. And therefore…"

Such trust would soon become the faith of the people.

"…So they got a massive gain you can't buy with money?"

"One you could not gain though you poured out a mountain of gold."

Trust soon becomes money, and honor, and a halo. And the things to be had from a gain like that? They could not be measured. There would, quite literally, be no end.

"What they lost this time? I would wager it. A year? No. Give them even half a year, and they will restore everything and have some left over."

"Mm."

"The momentum of a temple rising again can no longer be broken. Reach to break it, and you will earn the fury of the entire South."

"…Sister?"

Lee Han said nothing. He stared straight through her.

Now that I look… this sister of mine…

He had wondered why she would go so far as to use an avatar just to come to this shabby house.

"…You were that upset? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Enough to come all the way here?"

She had come because the anger would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠not cool. Because if she did not pour it out to someone, she could not bear it.

"If it's that kind of thing, go tell your family. Why come to me?"

"Where in the royal house would I find family?"

"What about the butler?"

"That man has no emotion called empathy."

"What am I, some grove people whisper their secrets into…"

"?"

"There's a thing like that. Somewhere that listens to secrets for you."

"Heh. I see. There was no one but you."

…No one else to hear her anger.

Crack. The fan in her hand shattered. It was a rare thing. No matter what happened, she only ever grew angry quietly. This was the first time he had seen her fume so openly.

"You're that furious?"

"Indeed, I am furious. The plan to drive the temple to the wall ended in nothing. If there is any comfort, it is that I was not the only one struck. Galahad and Lionel were struck as well. Heh…"

"…Your character is awful, too."

Even as he answered, Lee Han was impressed. That the strategies and plans of the three mightiest powers in the South had been overturned so emptily was a shocking thing.

Everyone has a plan. The world's business just doesn't go that neatly.

Until now he had seen the temple as nothing but a pack of madmen, but this affair made it plain. The temple had a strategist. And not just any strategist. A genuine one, good enough to screw all three of them at once.

However—

"—It seems this humble old man is to be raised as the next Pope-King."

Early the next morning, Lee Han learned that there was one more person who had been made to choke it down.

"Elder?"

Raphael, the only elder he truly acknowledged, let the lament out in a worn voice, and Lee Han had no time to comfort him.

"The temple will also mean to convey its thanks to you, Brother. Gratitude, they will say, for catching the apostates. An Indulgence may well be granted."

"…An Indulgence? That's definitely…"

"A precious thing, given to only twenty people even in the history of the kingdom. Those who receive it are sometimes raised by the temple as heroes."

"!?"

"The moment you receive the Indulgence, Brother, you step onto the stage. You take the eyes of the whole world upon yourself."

Lee Han was silent.

"…And that, Brother, is something you would never wish for."

"…Damn it."

Lee Han usually swallowed his curses in front of his elders, but he could not swallow this one, and it came out on reflex. And he understood. The strategist whose face he did not know seemed skilled at intrigue as well…

So I've been playing on a board someone else already built?

They meant to use even him like a piece on a chessboard.

"Ha, damn it all!"

Lee Han burst out laughing more than he got angry, at a humiliation like being knocked out before he ever climbed into the ring. He felt it all over again. Not every problem in the world could be solved with fists. There was a reason people said the pen was stronger than sword or gun.