Chapter 583: He's a Complete Madman
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 583: He's a Complete Madman
The Cult of Abundance honored seven martyrs, passing their names down through the generations. Among those who currently bore these names was one of the Cult's Apostles, the woman responsible for overseeing the distribution of the wine, jam, and potions they produced.
Her name was Mull.
She had been named after a martyr who had starved to death after carving off the flesh of her own thighs to feed the hungry.
Mull stroked her plump belly.
It was a habit she had developed because her stomach felt bloated whenever she heard something she didn't like. That thick layer of belly fat did not suit the martyr's name at all; after all, the original Mull had died as nothing but skin and bones.
But did that matter? Not in the slightest. What mattered was carrying on the legacy. What did physical size have to do with it?
This was the phrase Mull habitually tossed around. Besides, whatever the previous martyr might think if she rose from the grave to see her, Mull considered herself a person of noble character.
And now, something had occurred to make this "noble" person furrow her brow deeply. Someone had dared to attack one of the Cult's monasteries.
"This guy is a total lunatic," Mull muttered.
It was her honest impression. To her, it was an act that could only be committed by someone who had completely lost their mind.
She sat in a reception room furnished with eight sturdy chairs and a long, wide dining table to match. It was a place where they could dine or hold meetings, but the only people in this vast space were Mull and three men dressed in priestly robes.
The three of them stood in a neat line to the left of the table, their hands clasped politely in front of them. The one at the front of the trio spoke to Mull. From his posture to his tone, he was exceedingly polite.
"Abbot Noah stated that they have found their own path, and that they will now leave the sect to study on their own."
By "sect," he referred to the individual factions within the group that worshipped the God of Abundance. While "cult" might have originally been a subordinate concept to "sect," in the modern era, it had come to refer to the collective body of all believers, whereas "sect" denoted the branches that split off based on different interpretations of the scriptures.
In other words, a sect meant they believed in slightly different things, but from a secular perspective, it was more accurate to view them as different political factions.
That was the reality. No matter how much they embellished it with flowery words, the fact remained that they banded together to hold onto their respective power. It was fair to say these divisions were spawned by greed rather than faith.
Of course, no one would point that out openly.
Mull snorted at the words of the bishop under her command. Was Mull only responsible for distributing the Cult's goods? Hardly.
The Cult of Abundance had three main sects: the traditionalists who wanted to preserve the old doctrines; the reformists who advocated for embracing new ideas; and the moderates who maintained a neutral stance.
Because of this, those who did not belong to any sect tended to be treated like useless chaff. Yet now, an obscure monk running a mere single monastery dared to declare that they would live independently?
Good grief, did they not know whose grace had fed them all this time?
"Cut off all support to that monastery. Tell them that if they change their mind, they should cut off the abbot's thigh meat and bring it to me."
They deserved at least that much punishment.
"Yes, I will do so."
But this wasn't the end of it. There was also the bastard who had openly picked a fight with the God of Abundance.
The Knight of the Iron Wall? The Order of Madness? Laughable, all of it. She would show them what happened when they dared to stand against the Cult. Did they have any idea what would happen if the Cult withdrew its support?
On the surface, it was Abbot Noah's rebellion, but in reality, it was Encrid who had caused this mess. Mull was furious at the fellow who had lunged forward without even reading the room.
Of course, if he were standing right in front of her, about to swing his sword, she might politely bow her head and beg for her life. But his sword could not reach her right now. And before he could ever stand before her, she could torment everything he held dear.
"Did you say they are the Border Guard? Cut off all trade with them and withdraw the Cult's personnel stationed there to protect them," Mull said, taking her hand off her belly.
Her irritation hadn't completely vanished, but this would make everyone realize their mistake. Mull immediately ordered the recall of all priests active in Naurilia to suppress the cultists.
This was practically handing the cultists an open invitation. Previously, those cultists had failed time and again when told to stir up trouble in Naurilian territory, but if the Cult pulled out, they would surely be able to cause a massive incident this time.
Let's see if they still refuse to admit their mistake after that, Mull thought.
Naturally, she did not forget to send a letter of protest, warning them that this matter would absolutely not be overlooked. She would force them to acknowledge their wrongdoing.
Knights? Even if they were called disasters, they only had two hands. But the hands of those who believed in God numbered in the hundreds, the thousands.
"They are doing something they will regret," Mull muttered.
They would soon be beating the ground in despair. They must have caused this mess in a fit of impulse. So, she would punish them a little and extract a suitable price later.
"I will write a letter to the King as well," Mull added as her thoughts flowed.
The King of Naurilia would also have to make many concessions to the Theocracy because of this incident.
All of this transpired while Encrid was on his way back to the Border Guard.
*
"I'm seriously going crazy. Absolutely crazy."
Encrid didn't offer any particular excuse for Krais's words. To be precise, it was because there was no need to.
If there was any silver lining, it was that the monastery had taken a firm stand. If Abbot Noah hadn't stepped forward to declare their intentions and state that they would go their own way, the Cult would have acted even more blatantly.
Actually, they were already being blatant enough. If the Cult were a person, they would be considered an incredibly shameless sort. Even so, their current actions were merely meant as a warning.
Why are you interfering in our business and getting in our way?
That was the extent of what they were saying. Considering the Cult's usual policies, this reaction could actually be considered quite gentle. If they had acted as they normally did, they would have led with their fists.
Well, that wasn't as easy as it sounded either.
The force here was the fastest-rising sun on the continent. It was a massive entity that shone like the sun, swallowing up all surrounding forces as it grew. At its center were Encrid and the Order of Madness.
Military might was the core of the Border Guard. Therefore, a clumsy show of force could easily backfire on the Cult. While there were still those who doubted, anyone with a brain or the ability to read the continental situation no longer questioned Encrid's strength.
However, they had absolutely no idea what his true intentions were—and the same went for Abnayor. How could anyone dare to directly disrupt a temple event?
He is completely out of his mind.
Had Azpen been dragged around by the Cult because they truly lacked power? Military strength? While their overall forces might have been inferior, they had more than enough power to eliminate the Cult's immediate influence. Azpen possessed at least that much strength.
Yet they hadn't done it. Why? Because of the disadvantages that came with ostracizing the Cult.
Trade alone would immediately take a massive hit.
Wine, soap, and jam were goods traditionally produced by the monasteries. Although private merchant guilds now produced some of them, the monasteries still handled the vast majority of the volume.
Sure, they might somehow scrape by in terms of trade since their own merchant guilds were highly active, but what about what came after? What about the countries that would turn their backs on them under pressure from the Theocracy?
From their immediate trading partners to the great nations of the South, everyone would be busy taking the Theocracy's side. They would all get in their way at every turn. It was as clear as day.
Wasn't this just like running into a ghoul in the dead of night and picking a fight? Ghouls had no reason; they were creatures that would attack blindly, regardless of whether their opponent was a human, a Frok, or a giant.
There is already a mountain of work to resolve right now. This is sheer foolishness.
Instead of helping to solve problems, he had brought even more trouble. The immediate problems? Abnayor knew the Apostles of Abundance who held sway over the continent, and he could guess what they would do.
Back when Azpen was in its prime, hadn't he thought countless times about what would happen if they purged all those corrupt bastards, priests and all?
Pressure through trade routes. Since countless people utilized the trade routes controlled by the Cult, that would only be the beginning.
One of the Cult's greatest strengths was the existence of their monasteries. Despite not being cities, they defended themselves against monsters and demonic beasts. Merchant guilds often used these monasteries as intermediate waystations.
Even if they could get past that, what next? Among the numerous problems, there was one that loomed largest.
They will withdraw the priest squads.
The priest squads that suppressed the rise of cultists obeyed the Cult's orders. This was true for both the Order of Justice Realization and the Heretic Extermination Priests. The Heretic Extermination Priests even included paladins belonging to the Cult.
These two priest squads crossed borders to hunt down and kill cultists. They were masters of tracking and killing, a force recognized across the continent for exterminating cultists. Even the cultists would tremble and shudder at the mere mention of these two squads.
Though their numbers were small, every single member of these squads viewed cultists as their mortal enemies, dedicating their entire lives to eradicating them.
If they withdrew?
There was a concept called the balance of power. It was because of these priest squads' activities that the cultists found it difficult to operate freely. While they couldn't completely eradicate the cults, the balance of power was maintained well enough to keep the cultists from running rampant.
This was one of the achievements the Cult had secured ever since the Cult of the Demon Realm Holy Land had pulled off the madness of summoning a salamander in the past.
Even when Naurilia looked like a ripe fruit in the eyes of neighboring countries, cultists had already been quite active within the kingdom. The reason that had been possible was likely because they had diverted the attention of the priest squads operating within the kingdom elsewhere.
Now, the Cult would do whatever it took to deliberately withdraw the priest squads from the kingdom, and the cultists would run wild like fish in water.
"She's the Saintess?"
"Hi, I'm Seiki."
When Krais asked, looking at the child Encrid had brought back, Seiki answered herself. For some reason, the Saintess had dark circles under her eyes, looked incredibly exhausted, and her legs seemed to be trembling. Yet, her voice remained bright.
And he brought the Saintess here on top of that?
Abnayor almost slapped his own forehead with a loud smack. Why on earth did he bring that child here? Rescuing the Saintess was a problem, and attacking the monastery was a problem, but he had gone ahead and brought the very child at the center of it all.
The Cult of Abundance's primary focus was their potion business. And he just casually walked away with their core resource?
A lunatic.
That nickname hadn't been given to him for nothing. Abnayor only now fully realized it. Yet, Abnayor felt an emotion quite different from sheer absurdity. This was true even though all of this was something that shouldn't have been done, was absurd, and could truly be called a foolish act.
Because emotions were sometimes things that could not be understood with the mind. Such was Abnayor's state of mind right now.
"Yeah. I need to get some new armor made. Something easy to move in. Find someone who's good at making that kind of stuff. Eitri said himself that he's a weapon specialist. Apparently, blacksmiths all have their own specialties? And since he says he doesn't want to be bothered with other things right now, look for someone else. You're making sure Eitri's forge doesn't lack anything, right?"
As Encrid rambled on nonchalantly, Krais immediately replied.
"Good grief, you're driving me crazy. What, do you expect me to scold that old man for not working? And is armor originally a single-use item? Captain, you have a habit of getting entirely new gear every single time you come back from a fight."
"Is that so?"
"And the Cult... sigh, what are you really planning to do about them? The letter demanding the return of the Saintess arrived even before you did, Captain."
"Ignore it."
"Ah, yes, of course."
"Is there a problem?"
A problem? There were plenty, as far as Abnayor was concerned. Yet Krais's response was spectacular. Contrary to his words, his attitude was calm and casual.
"Of course there are. I'm going to call a meeting, so could you actually stay in your seat this time?"
"Sure, let's do that."
Encrid nodded, and Krais let out another sigh. There was no sense of crisis or life-or-death solemnity in their exchange. Was it because the reality of the situation hadn't sunk in yet?
Hardly. Krais was a genius. He was someone whose intellect made even Abnayor shake his head in awe. There was no way a guy like him lacked a sense of reality. When it came to sensing danger, that big-eyed fellow Krais was several times sharper than Abnayor himself.
Was that why? He didn't know the reason. However, Abnayor felt a shiver run down his spine at the casual nature of their conversation. Goosebumps broke out, and the fine hairs on his skin stood on end.
The evils of the Cult? It was a fact. A fact known to anyone who knew anything. Priests who had rotted away while hiding behind God? In fact, it was rarer to find someone who didn't know of their existence.
Even a mere farmer would shudder the moment they heard talk of the Cult or heretics. Yet, no one stepped forward. Anyone could think about it. But acting on it was a different matter entirely. Because there was nothing to be gained by stepping forward.
Yet this man spoke as if all of this was only natural, a duty that had to be done. He stepped forward without a second thought and acted without hesitation.
Abnayor felt a thrilling sensation course through his entire body once more. If he had to put a name to this feeling, it was sheer, exhilarating satisfaction. Laughter burst from him involuntarily.
"Ha, hahaha!"
In the past, back when he was in Azpen, how desperately had he wanted to disrupt the Cult's events? To put it bluntly, there had been more than one occasion where he wanted to raise absolute hell. Yet even he had never imagined anything like this.
Abducting the Saintess and raiding a monastery.
He didn't know exactly what had transpired in the process, but seeing how Encrid didn't give a damn about the Cult made him laugh continuously. At the sound of his laughter, Encrid glanced at him and whispered something to Krais, but Abnayor couldn't hear it.
He could only understand why the word "hero" suited that man so perfectly. What was difficult and arduous for others was only natural to him. What others would only think about and stop, this man put into action.
And for everyone who followed him, such things had somehow become natural as well.
"Let's talk for a moment."
Krais approached Abnayor. Abnayor stopped laughing and nodded. Right now, he was more than willing to listen to whatever Krais had to say.