The Religion of the North (1)
The inquisitors immediately spun around toward the direction the arrow had come from and bellowed.
“How dare you fire an arrow at a priest! Do you not fear divine retribution!”
At the same time, they proudly declared their status as priests. Usually, when people heard the words "priest" or "god," most would instinctively bow their heads.
‘They said the security in the North had stabilized, but were those all empty rumors? To think bandit gangs are swarming even on a road like this.’
Rather than mourning the life of their comrade, who had died with an arrow embedded in his forehead, the inquisitors were more concerned with clicking their tongues at the state of Northern security. It was a display devoid of any camaraderie, but that was how fanatics were. One could not play the role of a man-hunting inquisitor while possessing the human sentimentality to grieve over the deaths of others.
“The beast is even talking.”
Colorful heads of hair appeared from beyond the snow-covered bushes. It was the Northern Army.
“What did you say?”
The inquisitors were flustered. They had declared they were priests, yet these men were calling them beasts and radiating killing intent toward them.
Clang—!
Clang!
Realizing the soldiers' movements were not those of ordinary men, the priests immediately drew their swords. They had already tossed aside the bows they used for hunting "mongrels." At close range, bows were not very useful.
‘They got this close, and we didn’t even notice.’
The joy they had felt at the prospect of a long-awaited hunt, hearing that mongrels were flocking to the North, vanished in an instant. Though the wind was biting, cold sweat trickled down their backs.
“I will say this again. We are inquisitors of the Sun Church. Sheathe your swords and show respect!”
“Sun Church, inquisitors—we don’t know anything about that religious stuff. That arrow in the man’s leg, you’re the ones who shot it, right?”
“We were merely judging a heretic!”
“They confessed.”
“Wha—?”
Click, click.
Whoosh—!
“D-dodge!”
“Ugh!”
Seven soldiers loaded their crossbows in an instant and fired at the priests. It happened in a flash, without any warning. The priests, who had barely managed to twist their bodies to avoid fatal wounds, turned pale. They did not fear death, but they could not understand this situation at all.
Click, click.
Whoosh—!
“Damn it!”
Before they even had time to think, the crossbows spat out another volley of bolts. These were the crossbows Felix had personally improved, suggesting that even women and children with little strength should be able to use them; they were proving incredibly useful the moment they were deployed in real combat.
Hummmmm—.
Only then realizing that the situation could not be resolved with words, the inquisitors raised their divine power. A golden radiance shimmered around them, and soon, a translucent barrier formed. As the divine power manifested, arrogance returned to the priests' eyes.
“To fire arrows after knowing we are priests in the middle of purging a heretic—should we take this to mean that all of you are in league with this mongrel?”
At the priests' words, the man with the injured leg, who had been holding his breath, screamed as if spitting blood.
“Run! Run away quickly!”
Hummmmm—!
The witch, who had been chased by them for a long time, knew. She knew how despairing that golden radiance was. Ordinary people associated the power of a god with something benevolent and warm. But why is a god a god? Is it not because humans cannot understand them? Divine power cannot be distinguished by human standards of good and evil. What remains is only something overwhelming that humans dare not resist. The moment a priest designates someone as a heretic, divine power becomes sheer terror.
Hummmmm—!
Regardless, the golden, translucent power that had been protecting the priests' bodies began to coalesce into the shape of a massive sword. It looked holy, yet at the same time, it evoked an instinctive fear.
“Run, quickly! Hurry—!”
The witch screamed again at the soldiers who were about to get caught up in this while trying to save her, but the soldiers only wore strangely crooked expressions. She wondered if they didn't know about divine power, but at the same time, it seemed as if they were holding their ground while knowing exactly what it was. Feeling that something was off, the witch quickly turned her head toward the priests.
‘…Huh?’
And then she saw it.
‘Why are they struggling so much?’
The two inquisitors manifesting the divine power were trembling like aspen leaves. It was as if maintaining the god’s power was too much for them.
…Maintaining the god’s power is too much?
‘Why?’
The witch was plunged into confusion at the sight of the priests malfunctioning—something she had never even imagined in her dreams. A priest’s power was not something that grew gradually through lifelong training after realizing a talent, like a mage or a knight. Once one devoted oneself to a god and had their faith recognized, one could possess immense power overnight. In other words, the essence of divine power was faith in the god. It was power lent by the god in exchange for that faith. That was divine power.
Divine power weakening?
She had never heard of such a thing. Since a god’s power is infinite, how could it weaken?
“It’s the same as last time.”
“I guess the rumor that the Sun’s power weakens in the North is true.”
“It is winter, after all.”
“It’s nice when the short days are actually helpful like this.”
The soldiers' muttered conversation, occurring at just the right time, gave the witch a realization.
‘Is that it…!’
A god’s power may be infinite, but perhaps it is not distributed evenly.
“How dare you ignore the power of the Sun!”
It seemed the soldiers' conversation was not heard by the witch alone. The priests, who had barely managed to float the massive golden sword in the air, bit their lips and waved their trembling arms through the air. Simultaneously, the holy sword flew in a straight line toward the soldiers.
“No—!”
No matter how much the Sun’s power had weakened, it was still the power of a god. The witch, forgetting her injured leg, tried to run toward the soldiers but tumbled roughly. Just as she was about to despair, thinking it was all over,
BOOM—!
A roar that struck the eardrums echoed out. The snow that had been piled thick on every tree scattered from the roar and vibration, creating a scene so intense it felt as if a blizzard were blowing.
“Phew, almost died there.”
“That was close. Hehe.”
As the snow settled, what the witch saw were the soldiers brushing themselves off with casual banter, and a knight standing in front of them holding a massive longsword.
“Sorry I’m late. I found another group on the way and had to deal with them. Check the wounded. And—.”
The knight, who had commanded the soldiers with ease, turned his gaze toward the inquisitors. Their jaws had dropped so low they looked like people who had forgotten how to close their mouths.
“Is this your first time seeing it? A knight who can shatter divine power?”
One of the soldiers, who was particularly good at running his mouth, jeered at the priests. He looked just like a child bragging, ‘You don’t have one of these at your house, do you?’ Of course, the importance was vastly different, given that this was not a toy but a knight with skill beyond measure.
***
“Sir Vian is certainly superior. You said he’s already caught fifteen inquisitors?”
“He added three today, so it’s eighteen.”
Jamie corrected the number. Aiden, who had just shaken off a cold and returned to his office, felt a hum of excitement at the pleasant news.
“Whew—.”
Aiden whistled at the number.
“The Sun Church is going to have a serious labor shortage.”
He chuckled to himself, muttering, ‘That’s what you get for having such a rotten heart. Who goes around hunting people and acting all high and mighty?’
Watching her superior, Kalisa couldn't tell if she was dreaming or awake.
“Kalisa.”
“Y-yes!”
“Pull yourself together. I want to conduct some research on this.”
Aiden, his face suddenly devoid of any playfulness, began issuing work orders. He changed his expression so quickly that he was always a difficult boss for his subordinates.
“What is it you are referring to?”
“The reason why the Sun Church’s divine power is particularly weak in the North. I’m wondering if something other than climatic conditions is at play.”
“Among our brethren, there is one who has studied divine power. I will entrust it to them. But, to conduct the research accurately…”
“You can take a few of the ones we caught and use them.”
“Thank you.”
“But no personal revenge.”
“…I will keep that in mind.”
Some of the inquisitors who had set foot in the North following the witches had died on the spot, but a large number were currently sitting quietly in the underground prison. They were scheduled to pay for their crimes according to the laws of the North.
“Any word from their church yet?”
“No. There has been no particular contact yet.”
Roland shrugged and added,
“They’re probably losing their minds right now trying to figure out if we did this alone or if we have a backer.”
“Are we ready to counter?”
“Of course. Witch hunts were illegal under Imperial law to begin with, so if it comes down to a legal interpretation, it’s a fight we cannot lose.”
“But does life ever go according to the law?”
“You mean the Magic Tower?”
“Exactly.”
The Sun Church itself was not scary. There was no need to fear a religion that wasn't even a major one and whose influence diminished drastically on this land. There were no believers of the Sun Church in the North to begin with.
‘If you had just done some charity work and proselytized in neglected lands instead of only going to places where there’s money, this wouldn’t have happened.’
Religion should be, you know, religious if you want to be treated like a religion. The only problem was the Magic Tower, which had been in cahoots with the Sun Church and condoned the witch hunts. They were entities with both power and money.
“The Magic Tower won’t step forward right away either.”
Fortunately, the timing was good.
“The struggle for the throne between the princes is intensifying, so the Magic Tower is likely holding meeting after meeting trying to decide which side to back. From their perspective, even if the witches are annoying, it’s not an issue that takes priority, so they won’t force the issue and go against Imperial law during such a sensitive time.”
“Good.”
The princes' fight in the capital was proving so helpful to the North.
“Let’s send a letter to the First Prince. Tell him we’ve recruited the witches. So, Kalisa, you’ll need to prepare so the First Prince will be salivating, right?”
“I am in the process of gathering the training methods of my brothers and sisters. Everyone is cooperating diligently, so you should be able to see a draft soon.”
Aiden believed in the witches' potential. If mages expressed all sorts of powerful forces externally, witches were, if one had to categorize them, specialized in the mental realm. And politicians were always obsessed with quiet, covert mental-type powers rather than physical ones. They were currently limited because things hadn't been systematized yet, but that was a problem time would solve. As we always did, we would find a way.
“…Administrator.”
Everything was falling into place and he was in high spirits, but Kalisa spoke in a low, eerie voice. Why did she have to set such a mood when everything was going so well?
“Do you not fear God, Administrator?”
It was then that Aiden realized, through Kalisa’s eyes, why the witches had been so helpless.
‘Tsk, tsk.’
The witches' power also came from their god, the Goddess Argenta. It meant that while the god they believed in was different, the witches were also those who felt the god’s authority with their entire being. Perhaps that was why they couldn't shake the fear of the priests of the Goddess Aurea, who possessed power greater than their own.
However, Aiden was a man who had been distant from religion in his past life and his current one.
“When there were countless Northerners dying of starvation, I wonder what those great gods were doing. I’m not afraid of the wrath of a narrow-minded god who ignores even those who pray desperately with tears of blood.”
There is only one thing I fear.
That this land will return to the barren wasteland it once was. So, Kalisa,
“Instead of fearing someone else’s god who hasn't shown me a shred of mercy, it would be much better for your insomnia to think about improving and distributing farming methods.”