Chapter 76
Chapter 76
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 75
Chapter Title: God's Will
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The bishops who stepped up to the podium were all famous faces, without exception.
Starting from Saintess Lucia Saint, who served the Goddess Yustia of Justice.
Then the Goddess Hertia of Hearths and Fire, the God Bellas of Festivals and Joy, the Goddess Demeter of Abundance and Earth, the God Raizer of Lightning and Clouds, and so on.
Bishops serving countless renowned gods were all seated, glaring at me as if they despised me.
To them, I must have been no different from a criminal who deserved the gallows right then and there.
Sharp gazes weren't coming only from the bishops, either.
The citizens were in such a frenzy that if you loosened the reins even a little, they would grab torches and scream to burn me alive.
Amid all that, the saintess approached me calmly and offered a handshake.
It was a scene that suddenly reminded me of our final goodbye at the restaurant a few days ago.
"Long time no see."
When I whispered in the exact same tone as back then, Lucia asked me with an expressionless face.
"Did you... know?"
"......"
Shouts of outrage erupted from the crowd, claiming the saintess's hand was being defiled, so I let go without a word.
One of the grand mage's disciples, serving as the moderator, cleared his throat and took the microphone.
It was a tool that amplified the user's voice using mana.
"Well then. Before we begin the debate, allow me to explain the topic."
The debate topic was whether they could accept me, a necromancer.
As expected, thunderous boos and cries to execute me immediately burst out already.
"But from now on, for a smooth debate, the grand mage will cast a Silence spell over the debate hall."
From the VIP seats, the grand mage rose abruptly, unfurling his brilliant magic.
The audience was opening their mouths to shout, but forced into silence, they had no choice but to quiet down on their own.
Now the debate hall had finally fallen silent.
The first to speak was the bishop serving Goddess Hertia, his face wrinkled like crumpled paper.
He tapped the microphone with his finger and opened his mouth.
"I am Meckdoren Pirenche, servant of Goddess Hertia. Everyone, I believe this debate itself is unnecessary from the start."
Applause poured from one corner at his intense and resolute statement. Of course, only the gestures were visible, with no sound.
"How do you think the Griffin Kingdom, with its long history and traditions, has survived until now?"
Meckdoren's eyes, which I had assumed belonged to an old man past his prime, still burned with passion.
He wasn't a bishop of the Hearth Goddess Hertia for nothing.
"We've come this far because there were no black mages. Because we've blocked those freaks at the source—the ones who raise corpses, drink human blood, and exploit souls that should go to the gods."
"......"
"Griffin Kingdom is called barren land to black mages. They fear even stepping foot on our soil."
Thud.
From the outset, Meckdoren slammed his fist on the desk to crush the momentum.
"That's why Griffin has been safe and thrived unscathed until now. If we accept this man calling himself a necromancer, other black mages will surely start sniffing around our sacred Griffin soil!"
It wouldn't end with just accepting me; other black mages would gradually enter Griffin too.
He wasn't wrong.
'Tsk, this isn't a debate hall anymore—it's a hearing.'
Starting off emotionally intense had naturally turned it into a stage criticizing me.
It seemed like a scheme prepared by their side, and the audience cheered endlessly, agreeing with Meckdoren.
When my turn came, I picked up the microphone.
"I agree to some extent that we've come this far because there were no black mages."
In truth, most black mages were such bizarre people that calling them freaks wasn't off-base.
But even poison weeds can become medicine.
The bloated Griffin was now ready to use the poison weed of black mages as a herb.
"But there's no guarantee it will stay that way. Are you aware of the bizarre phenomena occurring in the kingdom right now?"
Some bishops jerked their heads away as if stung. But Saintess Lucia alone paid close attention to my words.
She was, after all, fighting on the front lines of those bizarre phenomena.
"In East Solla, ten villagers died simultaneously on the same day at the same time."
A massive mana screen displayed gruesome photos of the incident.
If only I had a PPT like in my previous life, but in this world, displaying images was the best they could do.
"This is a torso found in western Fernan. The limbs were discovered separately in the kingdom's east, west, south, and north."
A murder case that seemed geographically impossible. Notably, investigations showed different times of death despite it being one person's body.
"Just recently in Griffin, a woman was tormented by a dead boy who kept following her while begging. The bishops would know, right?"
At my words, the bishops cleared their throats and pretended not to hear.
"An incident ignored by bishops without holy power—I resolved it."
It was the case from a few days ago where the woman had gone to the church first, but they couldn't solve it, so she risked her life visiting the palace.
"As such, the Griffin Kingdom is rife with unsolved mysteries of unknown cause. What I've mentioned is just the tip of the iceberg."
As the horrific photos kept scrolling, the citizens' mouths gradually shut, and parents covered their children's eyes.
"We can't guarantee that things will continue smoothly as before. Neighboring countries like the Clock Republic and the German Kingdom are already trending toward using black mages for military purposes."
One key point: Griffin Kingdom was the only one overly suppressing black mages.
"If we remain ignorant, we'll end up obsolete."
As soon as I finished, the bishop serving God Bellas grabbed the microphone.
"Absurd!"
The debate, resembling a hearing, had just begun.
We traded blows like a back-and-forth skirmish, repeatedly grabbing the mic for verbal sparring.
"Look at this! The atrocities from black mages using corpses and draining blood. And this is just the beginning! The barbaric acts of black mages are countless—I couldn't show them all today!"
When the bishops dragged up what black mages had done to them and attacked me.
"Don't generalize hastily. Not all black mages are like that. For example, Coltman in the German Kingdom is a black mage admired by all for his virtuous conduct."
I countered that not all black mages were the same.
"Have you already forgotten the horrors left by Heralhazard 200 years ago? We must never forget that day's history! The moment we forget the past of this land we stand on, our identity crumbles!"
200 years ago.
When they brought up the incident that led to the kingdom's harsher crackdown on black mages.
"Even then, Griffin discriminated heavily against black mages. If there had been more knowledge about them, the kingdom's army wouldn't have provided corpses through misguided tactics."
I countered with the context of that era.
"We must not forget history. Truly wise words. But simply remembering leads only to regret. To avoid repeating our ancestors' bloodshed, we must learn, realize, and advance. Because we fear black magic, we must study it closely."
My throat stung.
My eyes went to the water bottle, but it wasn't my turn to drink yet.
"The goddess with the most believers in Griffin Kingdom is Yustia of Justice. All the dead go into her embrace. You black mages ultimately deny her outright."
When they invoked religious doctrine.
"Enough. We're discussing whether Griffin needs black mages. The goddess's will is grave, but this nation's supreme commander is not Yustia—it's His Highness Orpheus Luden Griffin. Don't forget that."
I countered invoking royal authority.
We kept trading punches. The flow seemed in my favor, but what mattered was the citizens' gazes.
No matter how I continued the dialogue or refuted logically, their scornful stares didn't fade.
Knowing that, the bishops criticized me even more fiercely, spittle flying, no matter how forced.
If we called this debate a small-scale battle, we were winning streak after streak.
But in this venue twisted into a debate-hearing hybrid, it was obvious the church side would win.
Not everyone believes in gods.
Naturally, among the audience, some didn't believe.
But no one liked black mages.
That huge gap couldn't be bridged, no matter how hard we tried.
The more we spoke, the deeper the resentment toward black mages in Griffin Kingdom sank in.
Then, Saintess Lucia, who had kept silent until now, slowly stood and took the microphone.
The bishops crossed their arms, smugly watching her as if urging a final blow.
Lucia met my eyes.
Having never expected to meet in such a place, she now composed herself and spoke calmly.
"I understand your point. Excessive prejudice against black mages has led the kingdom to hate without listening."
"......"
"Moreover, we need change. I truly agree. I alone can't handle the bizarre phenomena across the kingdom."
But then she added.
"Even so, can the citizens truly trust you? Even if His Majesty endorses you, the deep-seated prejudice within us can't be broken."
It could be seen as irreverent, but only possible because she was the saintess said to be chosen by God.
"Necromancer. One who soothes wandering souls, I've heard. Even if needed, more people will reject your touch. Out of fear over what you might do to their dead family, lover, or friend."
"......"
"No matter what you say, in Griffin Kingdom, you are not trustworthy."
Some bishops glanced toward the VIP seats—toward King Orpheus.
Even if he rebuked them for judging rashly, they had nothing to say.
Yet the king still calmly overlooked the hall.
"You say you can't trust me."
I nodded in agreement. Truthfully, I never expected this debate to win their trust.
I just needed the stage.
I moistened my throat with the water bottle on the table. The slowly seeping wine oddly twisted my insides.
I grabbed the mic and stepped forward.
Facing the saintess staring straight at me, I carefully asked.
"How did you become the saintess?"
"......Goddess Yustia named me, and I gained the ability to use holy power as proof."
She gave me a strange look, as if my question was out of nowhere.
I nodded satisfied with her answer.
"Exactly. Lucia, who merely worked at a convent, one day suddenly received God's choice, gained holy power, and became the saintess."
The audience rippled like waves.
Without the silence, there would have been quite the uproar before I could continue.
"She showed no special abilities. No remarkable achievements. Griffin citizens didn't even know her."
"......"
"Simply chosen by God—that alone makes people revere you as saintess, praise you, and shower you with unwavering faith and acclaim."
"How dare you mock God's choice!"
"Filthy demon, watch your tongue!"
"Finally showing your true colors!"
The bishops behind the saintess, seeing an opportunity, flushed red and spat as they shouted.
They were determined not to miss my alleged blasphemy against God.
"What... do you mean?"
But Saintess Lucia alone met my eyes clearly.
This was the limit.
My stomach boiled, and rejection surged through my body.
I slowly raised my hand.
Brilliant white light poured from my hand.
Purest, immaculate white.
The white that comforted and loved people, seen as proof of God.
The divine mercy usable by only one person on the continent.
"Holy... power...?"
Lucia's trembling voice, belonging to its rightful owner, carried vividly through the mic across the entire hall.
Bishops stunned in confusion, the saintess staring in disbelief, citizens frozen in shock without reaction.
And my lips curling into a grin.
Religion is unshakable faith.
In the modern world, science and religion often clash, but they run on different tracks.
Science explores and changes.
Religion remains steadfast and unyielding.
Science discards the old when faced with new reality.
Religion fits new situations into existing faith frameworks.
The gospel is truth.
They cannot deny the holy power bestowed by God.
That's why I never felt burdened coming to this stage, not for a moment.
Citizens can't accept me?
Of course.
So what?
Interpreting my existence, granting faith, explaining—it wasn't my job.
It was theirs—the ones sitting bloated, claiming to follow God's word.
"I am Deus Verdi, younger brother of the Northsweden Border Count, and among black mages, a necromancer who walks with souls."
A simple self-introduction that would make any Griffin citizen tremble.
"And."
I added one line they could never look away from.
"I am the one chosen by God."
It was so amusing that laughter bubbled up.
I gave you a problem.
I don't know the answer, but piecing it together is your job.
What is God's will?