Chapter 307: Isaac(1)
Chapter 307: Isaac(1)
The venue was plunged into a long silence by the tactical nuclear bomb I had dropped right from the start. I savored that silence, a small smile playing on my lips.
Since Cecile had cast a voice amplification spell on me, there wasn't a single person who hadn't heard it.
Everyone now knew that I was Xenon, the author of the Xenon Chronicle. It wasn't surprising that the air remained still, devoid of any immediate reaction.
It was simply too hard to believe at face value. Unlike during the trial, there had been no build-up; I had just come out and said it.
Confusion likely outweighed shock at this point. Even with Count Kamar’s testimony, I stood in stark contrast to the image of Xenon they had cultivated in their minds.
Prejudices are a powerful thing. The world had constructed countless images of Xenon, but most of them converged on the idea of a 'Sage.'
Naturally, a Sage is envisioned as an old man, possessing more knowledge and experience than anyone else. Certainly not a fresh-faced youth like me.
As time passed, various theories like 'regressor' or 'prophet' had circulated, but the image of the Sage had never truly faded.
"…Is it true? That man is Xenon?"
"Maybe he's just a representative? No?"
"He has red hair and golden eyes, but… Baron Maishal is the same."
"He's so young?"
The reactions were exactly as I had anticipated. The people on the first floor—the commoners—seemed willing to roll with it, but the nobles on the second floor were a different story.
They were genuinely doubting whether I was Xenon. It would be stranger if they didn't.
This was exactly why I had asked Kate for help. As the murmuring grew louder, I maintained my smile and spoke.
"I understand it might be difficult for all of you to believe my words. I truly do. That is why I have asked a special guest to assist me. Cardinal Kate?"
At my call, Kate, who had been hiding behind the stage curtain, slowly revealed herself. The murmuring vanished instantly upon her appearance.
Her mere presence radiated a divine aura, and her radiant beauty seemed to illuminate the room.
With every eye fixed on her, Kate walked gracefully to my side and gave a polite nod.
Then, she turned toward the audience, clasped her hands gently, and began her work.
"Light."
Unlike other clerics, her incantation was incredibly simple. But because it was Kate, and not just any priest, even that single word carried immense power.
Flash!
As if to prove it, a golden halo of light erupted with her command. It was Kate’s unique, brilliant divine power—the same I had seen in the waiting room.
While the divinity of an ordinary cleric is white, those with exceptionally deep faith, like Kate, possess a light that nears a golden hue.
I had heard that it was extremely difficult even for a Cardinal to emit a golden light as dazzling as hers. In terms of pure divine power, she possessed strength rivaling the Pope.
While the audience and I watched in silence, Kate, having gathered her divine power, took her next step.
"Blessings upon this place!"
She spread her arms wide, dispersing the golden light she had carefully gathered. The venue was already well-lit, but as the golden mist spread, it felt as though the world itself had brightened.
No, it actually had become brighter. The light she scattered permeated every corner of the building, including the ceiling.
It glowed beautifully, like fireflies resting gently on grass or a Christmas tree shimmering with various colors.
This was the Sanctuary Declaration—a feat possible for only a handful of high-ranking clerics, and only those with the most steadfast faith.
It was a magnificent sight. I couldn't help but think how quintessentially 'fantasy' this moment was; it was a scene that would remain vivid in my memory forever.
"It is finished."
"Ah… is it over?"
"Yes."
If Kate hadn't spoken to me, I might have forgotten I was even standing on a stage. I offered her my thanks and turned back to the crowd.
The people were just like me, staring in awe at the golden light clinging to every corner of the hall.
Even setting aside its power, the phenomenon itself was as beautiful as a work of art, making their reaction only natural.
"What Cardinal Kate just did is simple. She has temporarily granted this building the same properties as a temple."
"This place is like a temple now?"
"Is that even possible?"
"If it's Cardinal Kate, perhaps…"
Reactions were split here as well. Some, including the nobles, were struck with awe, while the majority, including the commoners, simply accepted it with a 'so that's how it is.'
It could be seen as a difference in education, but it was more likely a difference in interest. Even I didn't fully grasp how difficult this was; I just thought it was impressive.
At any rate, with the Sanctuary Declaration complete, I scanned the crowd as they began to murmur once more.
I made sure to speak with a voice full of conviction to command their attention.
"Therefore, I declare this: from this moment on, I shall not tell a single lie. Should I speak a falsehood, God Himself shall strike me down. With this, will you believe my words?"
"…"
Perhaps because they had just witnessed something that defied common sense, no one dared to speak up.
Silence was as good as an affirmation. Moreover, since Cardinal Kate herself had declared this a sanctuary, they had no choice but to believe.
Now that the groundwork was perfectly laid, I looked around at the eyes gathered on me.
I saw some familiar, welcoming faces, and a few not-so-welcoming ones. But most were strangers.
From now on, I would reveal the identity I had kept hidden to all of them. I took a long breath, feeling an inexplicable fluttering in my chest.
If a simple public announcement made me this nervous, I wondered how performers suppressed this tension. I felt a newfound respect for the artists who took the stage.
I guess this is the end of that.
The benefits of hiding my identity had been countless. It had kept me safe from unknown threats, including Demon Worshippers.
Those benefits ended today. As Cecile had said in her speech, a bird is not born to die inside a cage.
The future might be full of talk and trouble, but as long as I knew what was coming and could prepare, it wouldn't be a problem.
I scanned the audience once more and spoke clearly, my voice steady and powerful.
"Many of you must be confused. Wasn't Xenon supposed to be an elderly Sage? Or perhaps a regressor from the future, or a prophet? Wouldn't he be closer to a man of the cloth?"
Indeed, among the many theories, 'Sage' had the highest percentage, followed by 'cleric.'
Unless one's faith was deep enough to receive direct aid from God, receiving prophecies was considered impossible. That was the most basic common sense in this world.
However, defying everyone's expectations, I had appeared as a perfectly ordinary noble. My father's track record was anything but ordinary, but let's set that aside for now.
"None of that is true. I am not a Sage, nor am I a man from the future or a prophet. The work known as the Xenon Chronicle came solely from my own head. Please keep that in mind. I am not as grand a person as you might think."
This wasn't humility; I truly wasn't that special. Aside from the fact that I possessed vivid memories of my past life, that is.
If I mentioned that, they would undoubtedly believe I was blessed by God, so I kept it to myself. I figured the gods would overlook this omission for the sake of preventing chaos.
Then how would I explain the 'Why Is This Real' incidents that had cropped up so far? I was about to do just that.
First was the pollution of the World Tree's roots, which was essentially the starting point of the 'Why Is This Real' phenomenon. As soon as I thought of that incident, I turned my head.
Arwen was sitting gracefully in the direction I looked. As soon as our eyes met, she flinched, then gave a shy smile and lowered her head.
I had always thought Arwen was cute, but today that feeling was even stronger.
There was no trace of her dignity as a Queen; there was only a bashful young girl.
"You might wonder, 'Then how did you know about the pollution of the World Tree's roots and the Demon Worshippers?' In truth, these are facts that can be deduced to some extent if you delve just a little deeper into history and mythology. The devils once pushed this world to the brink of destruction, but they were driven out thanks to the World Tree gifted to us by the Goddess Hirt. In other words, from a devil's perspective, the World Tree is the divine treasure they must destroy first. Of course, when I investigated it myself, it turned out to be the lingering aftereffects of the Demon War spreading like ink, but would the devils have just left it alone?"
"…"
"Not at all. And as for the Demon Worshippers… I believe our own complacency and judgment, dulled by peace, played a bigger role than history. The Demon War is a myth, but it is also 'history' that actually happened. History that has happened once will surely find us again. And yet, we had forgotten that."
The World Tree aside, the existence of Demon Worshippers was something that could have been noticed with just a bit of vigilance. It was only that the cunning of the Demon Worshippers, spanning centuries, had covered it all up.
As seen in the case of the fallen Cardinal, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that Demon Worshippers already dominated the entire underworld.
Now that Cardinal Bark was dead and the Savior had declared a Holy War, they were being steadily rooted out, but the reality was that there was still a long way to go.
"Other occurrences are similar, but some parts truly were just coincidences. Like the fusion magic, which was a forbidden spell of the elves, or the Helium hunter organization, the Reapers, and so on. To be honest… I don't have much to say about those. They simply came out of my head."
For some of the 'Why Is This Real' moments, I couldn't even fabricate a lie, so I had to dismiss them as mere coincidences. Still, perhaps because of the Sanctuary Declaration, the audience seemed inclined to believe me.
Honestly, if I hadn't declared a sanctuary, most wouldn't have believed it. Each of those incidents was significant enough to shake the foundations of a nation; who would believe they were just coincidences?
"The same goes for the Demon Tribe. I have only heard about what kind of people the Demons are; I have never met them in person. Because of that, I had no prejudices, which allowed me to write a story like Sacran's. Above all, if the Demons were truly devils, they would have drawn their swords long ago. However, despite being persecuted by everyone, the Demons endured and strove to see the light. I truly admired that aspect, which is why I wrote that story. There is no other reason. Those who strive to seize the light are beautiful by their very existence and will."
I didn't forget to praise the Demon Tribe. At my words, Cecile clasped her hands tightly and looked at me with an ecstatic expression.
It was a bit of an overwhelming gaze, but since she was happy, I figured it was fine. Besides, the Demon Tribe truly was that kind of race, so it wasn't a lie.
"Then many of you will wonder: what was the reason for writing the Xenon Chronicle? What was the purpose behind such a work?"
"…"
"I will tell you now. The Xenon Chronicle was, first and foremost, a work I started as a hobby. I had no intention of spreading a specific ideology or theory, nor did I seek fame. I simply started writing with the hope that everyone here would enjoy it."
As everyone likely knew, the Xenon Chronicle had started as a mere hobby.
It had become something of an obligation to survive the passionate physical advances of my lovers, but its essence hadn't changed.
Of course, as the first work I wrote after reincarnating into this world, it held deep meaning. When I finally finished it, I would likely feel a mix of bittersweetness and relief.
"So, I hope you all continue to read the Xenon Chronicle with a joyful heart. While it is quite startling when incidents from the Xenon Chronicle happen in reality, I hope you won't be afraid because of that. I want nothing more than for all of you to be happy."
This was the truth, without a single lie. Every time a new volume of the Xenon Chronicle was released, people looked forward to what kind of incident would break out rather than the story itself.
As an author, it was an ambiguous situation where I didn't know whether to be happy or not, but it was uncomfortable nonetheless. Attention was being drawn to strange places rather than the work itself.
It was certainly good that the world had been saved from crisis thanks to the Xenon Chronicle. But being treated like a Holy Scripture was a burden for me.
Above all, seeing how it could even bring about things that hadn't existed, like Cecile's demonization, even I had become afraid.
"Some of you might hear this and think, 'If you're so afraid, why don't you just stop writing?' If the current situation is such a burden, why not just put down the pen?"
I had actually had those thoughts before. It wouldn't have been bad to focus on history and become a scholar instead of a writer.
But I had tossed that thought into the trash soon after. Why?
"Everyone. I like writing."
Because I am a wordsmith who loves to write.
"I like showing my writing to you, and I like it when you read my writing."
Because I want many people to see the stories from my imagination.
This writer's instinct, which I'd had in my past life, hadn't changed even after reincarnation.
"It's fine if you call my writing a book of prophecy or a Holy Scripture. What I want is simple. For you to truly enjoy reading my stories. For a common culture to emerge, regardless of age, gender, race, or status. To write something that everyone can enjoy, as we saw at the exhibition."
"…"
"That alone is enough for me. I don't need fame, ideology, power, or wealth. Just the reactions you show me are enough to keep me full."
The reason I hadn't put down my pen despite the burden. It was because so many people, including those here today, read my work.
For their sake, I would never put down my pen. Even if someone threatened me to stop, I would not yield; even if my hands were cut off, I would use my mouth or my feet.
Whether my firm yet humble resolve had been conveyed, no one raised an objection. They must have realized that I truly had no ulterior motives.
I scanned the space filled with golden light and gave a bright smile. Now, only one thing remained.
"Let me introduce myself once more. My name is Isaac Ducard Maishal."
My name is Isaac Ducard Maishal.
"In this world."
In this fantasy world.
"I write about things that could happen here."
I write fantasy novels.
"I am Xenon, the author of the Xenon Chronicle."
I am an ordinary writer.
"I will continue to write my best."