The Inauguration (1)
The morning of the Cult Leader candidate was incredibly busy. He was in the middle of learning the daily duties of the position from Great Elder Cornelius.
‘…And I’ve already been warned about dozens of things.’
Rowan was also being dragged around by the nuns, and the reason was simple.
“Rowan, you’ve grown. Five feet four inches.”
“Ugh, a man should be at least six feet…”
“He still has plenty of time to grow. Some people keep growing even after becoming adults. Don’t worry about it right now.”
“Yes…”
While Rowan looked disappointed, snip snip, Sister Anna was steadily recording his measurements. One foot was a unit based on the foot size of the Empire’s founding emperor—roughly twenty-nine centimeters. Rowan struggled to convert it to centimeters, even using his fingers for help. The result for his height came out to—
“About 162 centimeters. Damn units, they’re so complicated…”
“Hm? What’s damn?”
“Ah, nothing. I never thought I’d live to wear silk clothes one day.”
The reason for taking measurements was to tailor the ceremonial vestments the Cult Leader would wear. The leader was required to dress in noble attire made of silk, wool, and linen.
‘…Maybe being the Cult Leader isn’t so bad?’
Rowan had briefly entertained the thought before violently shaking his head. What good were fancy clothes if he ended up dead?
Feeling gloomy, Rowan suddenly wanted comfort from Anna.
“Anna, can I have a hu—”
Perhaps he missed her chest that much. As Rowan tried to burrow deeper into her embrace, she gently pushed him away with her arm.
“Hm? What’s wrong?”
“You can’t. From now on, Rowan, physical contact with any other woman is strictly forbidden.”
“…Why?”
“Because you are Lady Ellara’s man.”
For the first time in his possessed life—and including his previous one—Rowan felt like the sky was collapsing. It was worse than the time he’d gone broke trading stocks.
“Where is that even a rule?”
“It’s a doctrine of the Order. Even Oberon remained faithful to his wife while she was alive.”
Soon after, Rowan wore the expression of someone who had lost the entire world.
And once again, he made a firm resolution.
‘…I’m definitely going to destroy this stupid cult.’
Rowan continued his Cult Leader training. There was no time to waste, so the lessons progressed rapidly. He was told the advanced course had to be completed within a few days, and he followed Cornelius around everywhere.
“The Cult Leader must rise at five in the morning.”
“…Excuse me?”
“You must attend the dawn prayer. Since it takes time to reach the main temple, you will need to prepare diligently.”
Rowan thought to himself, ‘I’m screwed. The regular believers get to wake up at nine…’
There were more reasons.
“On weekdays, once the morning service ends, you should head straight to the office to handle the Order’s administrative duties.”
“Cornelius, when do I get breaks?”
“You rest after you finish work.”
“…And when is that?”
“After the late-night service.”
“……”
The prayer he already found difficult to endure once a day had now doubled, and he was expected to handle paperwork in between.
“Cornelius! Can’t I just go out on missionary work?”
“Missionary work?! Rowan! You are still five years too early for that!”
“……”
The position of Cult Leader wasn’t all perks. The few things he actually liked were that his range of activity had expanded, he could freely enter the library and archives to secure plenty of reading material, and that—excluding the elders—all the cult members bowed their heads before him.
“Rowan, from now on you must also be extremely careful with your conduct. If you were to be jilted or anything of the sort…”
“Would I die?”
“Ahem! Make sure you behave so that such a thing never happens!”
Since he could now access the Order’s secrets, betrayal would indeed mean death.
‘This damn pseudo-cult, just collapse already!’
And the greatest power of the Cult Leader was that he possessed the Divine Seal, the final approval stamp for all official documents. Within the Order, it functioned like the Emperor’s royal seal. Finances, religious law, people’s tribunals, disposal of assets, deification plans—nearly everything moved according to the approval of this seal. In other words, the seal itself was the ultimate authority.
Rowan reached out. The moment his hand closed around the Divine Seal resting on the desk—
Whoosh.
Ellara snatched it away.
“Hm?”
“The stamp is mine.”
“What? I’m the Cult Leader, aren’t I?”
“Only those of Lumiere blood may use the Divine Seal.”
“Then you be the Cult Leader.”
“Women can’t. Discuss all approvals with me. I’ll stamp them myself.”
In other words, Rowan was a puppet leader. He had never wanted the position in the first place, but being treated like a marionette was still extremely unpleasant.
The one thing Rowan had fully obtained was the Cult Leader’s office, which he used to frequent in order to judge heretics. It was a familiar place. But now, instead of crouching in the corner to use his ability, he could sit at the wide desk.
After confirming the location of the Divine Seal, Cornelius spoke.
“Cult Leader. Both of you must be informed regarding the agenda. I will explain, so please only stamp where I instruct you. Most matters will be brought forward as formal proposals. Since the proposals have already been decided by the Council of Elders, all you need to do is stamp them. Lady Ellara, you understand?”
“……”
“Yes, Cornelius.”
‘Cornelius, in the end he’s dismissing Ellara because she’s young too. So he just wants her to play the role of a scarecrow?’
Rowan recalled something he had studied in the history books of his homeland. Was this like Heungseon Daewongun and King Gojong? Or perhaps the relationship between Dangun and Suyang Daegun?
Remembering the tragic outcome of those stories, Rowan pressed a hand to his forehead.
A nation that forgets its history has no future.
There was no way a mere 226-year-old kingdom like Arcadia could understand the profound five-hundred-year history of the Joseon Dynasty.
After giving Rowan several points to keep in mind as Cult Leader, Cornelius bowed respectfully.
“Please read through them, and let me know if you have any questions.”
“Got it.”
Cornelius assumed that Rowan wouldn’t understand most of the documents. After all, no matter what title he held, the boy was outwardly only thirteen years old. That was why he believed he needed to guide the young leader even more carefully. For now, he could still be considered a loyal subject.
For now.
‘Everyone starts out like that. But once they taste power once or twice, they’ll want to seize it for themselves.’
Rustle.
The only sound in the office was the quiet turning of pages as Rowan read through the documents. Ellara stared at him with open curiosity.
“Hey. Do you actually understand what you’re reading? Just hurry up and let me stamp them.”
“Hmm. This is harder than I thought. So the Cult Leader doesn’t just give sermons?”
“Did you think he just played around? You have no idea how busy Dad was. Idiot.”
Those who wish to become king must endure the weight of the crown?
Perhaps Oberon’s bold speeches during Sunday services and his rhythmic movements to the hymns had been his own way of relieving stress from the overwhelming workload.
‘Though after his wife died, he changed course to womanizing.’
Then Rowan noticed a document that stood out among the approval papers.
「Document Concerning the Inauguration of the Third Cult Leader, Rowan」
Since a new Cult Leader had been born, it was only natural to announce it to the believers—and the plan went even further, intending to inform the entire kingdom.
“Inauguration ceremony… tribute goods… target amount 200 million gold…? Cornelius. What does this mean? Collecting money?”
Cornelius tilted his head.
“It is only proper for the Cult Leader’s inauguration to be celebrated by the believers and the people. The previous two inaugurations did the same, so you may simply stamp it.”
“No, twenty million gold to the king? Two million gold to each lord? And believers must offer fifty thousand gold or equivalent food as tribute? This is just extortion, isn’t it?”
The Wessel Cult was already perceived as a pseudo-religion. The previous two tribute requests might have somehow been overlooked, but sending another notice like this would create a very negative image among the king and the lords. Before the protagonist’s party even arrived, they might be wiped out first by the royal army.
Even if they somehow met the tribute quota, it would only fill the cult’s belly. No matter the outcome, the situation was disadvantageous for Rowan.
What Rowan wanted was for the pseudo-cult to collapse on its own.
‘…This agenda is rejected.’
Rowan whispered to Ellara.
“Ellara. Let’s not do this.”
“Hm? Why?”
“It’s outright robbery. The king will be furious.”
“Hmm, but I wanted to receive gifts.”
“I’ll give you gifts!”
“The only things you can give are bread and milk.”
That was true. Rowan, who was still in the middle of the handover, had no money. He couldn’t even possess any. In a panic, he blurted out whatever came to mind.
“I-I’ll grant you one wish.”
“Hmm…”
Ellara seemed to ponder for a moment before hiding the seal inside her sleeve. To Cornelius, it probably looked like a child simply hiding the stamp.
“Lady Ellara? What are you doing?”
“I’m not going to stamp it.”
“What are you—!”
Rowan stepped in front of Ellara.
“Good job, Ellara.”
The method Rowan had hastily come up with to ruin the cult without provoking hostility from the kingdom. He laid out his reasoning to Cornelius.
“Why should we receive tribute for an inauguration? I don’t like it. It feels like something a thug would do.”
“Cult Leader! This is not simple tribute. It is a form of bribe to ensure the missionary teams do not harm the villages and only focus on proselytizing, as well as a token of maintaining friendly relations…”
Rowan cut Cornelius off.
“I want to give gifts to the people who come to my inauguration instead.”
“Pardon?!”
“Or we can just cancel the inauguration.”
“Cult Leader. The proposal has already been decided by the Council…”
“That was decided arbitrarily by the elders. I want to give return gifts to everyone who travels a long way to attend. Isn’t that only natural?”
Faced with Rowan’s resolute gaze, Cornelius was at a loss for words. The young Cult Leader was attempting to shatter the very system of the Order that was handled through Council consensus.