The Inauguration (2)
Cornell doubted his own faith in that instant. Thirteen years ago, when he had offered his prayers, he had been certain he received a divine revelation that the One God had returned. The children born at that time were Ellara and Rowan. He had watched one of them closely, believing that one must be the divine being. When Ellara chose Rowan as her betrothed, he had seen it as the will of God. He had even twisted doctrine to persuade the elders!
Yet now the boy was acting like a child. To an old man’s eyes, Rowan’s behavior looked exactly like that of a stubborn, spoiled brat who knew nothing of the world. Cornell clutched at his sanity. Had he really thought he could reason with the boy just because Rowan was clever? He continued in a calm voice.
In other words, hand over every coin and every scrap of food to the cult. Only then would they receive a “ticket” to heaven. It was the classic scam of every cult.
Rowan realized Cornell was trying to persuade him and thought, So I have to negotiate after all?
He gestured to Ellara. “Give me the Divine Seal.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
“Just give it.”
“Umm…”
Ellara carefully placed the Divine Seal in Rowan’s hand. He spun it like a top on the desk and said,
Negotiation was all about momentum. The seal spun on the desk before slowly coming to a stop. Grind. It was Rowan’s way of saying that the one holding the final decision was ultimately “us.”
“If you approve the return-gift plan, I’ll live like a puppet of the cult from now on. How about it? Isn’t that what the elders want?”
“……Heh heh.”
While Cornell and Rowan’s minds whirred, Ellara could only glance back and forth between their faces. Eventually Cornell tried to negotiate as well.
“What kind of return gifts do you wish to give? Let’s hear it.”
“Honestly, I’d like to hand over ninety percent of the food stores, but…”
“What?!”
“Fifty percent.”
“Cult Leader! No matter how young you are, do you not understand how enormous fifty percent of our wealth is?”
Rowan knew exactly how much it was. The moment he had gained the office, he had pulled out the cult’s account books and read them cover to cover. Fifty percent of the main branch’s assets was enough money and food to buy an entire average count’s territory outright. The first rule of negotiation was to start with an absurd number.
“Then thirty percent.”
“Impossible.”
“Twenty percent.”
“Impossible.”
“……Ten percent.”
“You… do as you please!”
Success. Cornell had been thrown off by the use of percentages rather than concrete figures. If Rowan had started at ten percent, it would have been rejected immediately. But after hearing ninety percent first, ten percent sounded relatively small. From Cornell’s perspective, he probably thought he had haggled the cult leader’s stubbornness down to a bargain of just ten percent.
“Thank you, Cornell.”
“This… hm, I feel like something went wrong…”
And so, the newly written inauguration plan received the stamp of the Divine Seal.
Thump.
“Well done, Ellara.”
“I’ll tell you my wish later. Heehee.”
“Ugh. You were serious?”
“Of course I was!”
He had given away ten percent of the cult’s assets on the very day he took office. If he did the “giving” nine more times, the cult would go bankrupt. He just needed to find the right excuses. The Second Coming Festival? Ellara’s birthday? Rowan knew of five major events a year. If he could keep opening the cult’s storehouses under plausible pretexts, the organization would be reduced to beggars in just two years.
A chuckle escaped him. “Heh heh.”
Seeing Rowan laugh, Ellara tilted her head. “Rowan, why are you laughing like that? Are you that happy?”
“Yeah. I think becoming cult leader was a good choice. This is way too fun and thrilling.”
“When you smile like that, you look just like Father when he was young.”
“Huh? What kind of nonsense…”
“Whenever the local lords brought tribute, he would smile exactly like that. If your appearance is similar, the believers won’t feel any sense of alienation. Rowan… you really do have the qualities of a cult leader.”
“……”
Did position shape the person? The look in Ellara’s eyes had changed from the way she once looked at the commoner Rowan. Was it just his imagination, or was there a faint trace of reverence in her gaze?
On the day of the inauguration, perhaps thanks to the news that had been spread across the entire kingdom, the entrance to the main temple was packed with people. The advertisement that began with “The Wessel Cult opens its storehouses” read:
Whether noble or commoner, come and receive return gifts of food and drink at the inauguration. You need not be a member of the cult, nor do you need faith. This is simply to celebrate the birth of the new Cult Leader…
A thirteen-year-old cult leader had opened the storehouses for the sake of the people. The news struck the populace like a fresh shock.
“No way. There’s never been a cult leader like this before.”
“Right. The cult leaders were always just greedy old men… Maybe the Wessel Cult isn’t actually a cult?”
“……Is this a dream?”
“No, this is heaven!”
Amid the buzzing chatter, Rowan was being revered as pure and holy. Ellara, seemingly nervous at the massive crowd filling the hall, clung tightly to Rowan’s arm.
“Rowan. I’m so nervous.”
“What’s there to be nervous about?”
“This is the first time I’ve ever been the center of so much attention…”
“Just enjoy it. Wave your hand. Smile brightly.”
“Uhh… Aren’t you nervous?”
“Nope. I feel great.”
The reason a smile never left Rowan’s lips was simple. Although he had promised only ten percent of the food, far more people than expected were pouring in. They kept coming without pause.
More. Come even more. There’s no way we can turn away this many people. We’ll have to hand out the return gifts. The food stores are emptying faster and faster!
The food warehouse Rowan had glanced at earlier was now in chaos.
“Not enough! Bring out more!”
“We’ve already exceeded the budget!”
“That was Elder Cornell’s miscalculation! The new Cult Leader ordered that every guest must leave with both hands full!”
“Take out plenty of food!”
More than ten percent of the food was already being handed out. The elders looked troubled; nearly twenty percent of the stores had already been emptied.
Heh heh. The plan is progressing faster than I thought.
To the guests chanting his name, Rowan flashed a bright smile.
““Rowan! Rowan!””
“Eat as much as you want! We also offer takeout! Don’t leave anything behind!”
Seeing the first genuine smile Rowan had shown since arriving in this world, Ellara couldn’t help but laugh too.
“What’s with you? You look like you’re having the time of your life.”
“Yeah. It’s thrilling.”
“Then I’m happy too.”
And so, the inauguration ceremony—which had only produced losses—came to an end.
One month later.
People who had attended the inauguration began joining the cult. Not just a few, but dozens, hundreds, and through word of mouth, thousands!
“What the fuck.”
The reason was that public opinion across the kingdom had formed around the idea that a Wessel Cult that knew how to give was the true One God. Most religions around the kingdom were either mobilized for war, degenerate, or demanded excessive donations. A religion that distributed money and food? In Rowan’s previous life, he had seen churches that became poor through charity and service, but it was rare to see a wealthy church actually spending its money. In this world where the very concept of “charity” barely existed, such an act was unprecedented.
As the cult’s influence grew, the way people treated Rowan changed as well. The elders’ titles shifted from “Rowan” to “Cult Leader,” then from “Cult Leader” to “Cult Leader-nim.”
“Cult Leader-nim. Here is the new believers’ registry. You must determine who among them are heretics.”
“……There are way too many.”
“That is your duty, Cult Leader-nim. You must finish it by today. The believers have grown used to the Cult Leader’s swift handling of affairs, so their patience has greatly decreased. Heh heh.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind. Then… may the glory of Wessel be with you…”
The treatment had become strangely formal. Stacks of believer registries and proposals piled high. The Wessel Cult, which had previously held four hundred internal believers and nine hundred external ones for a total of thirteen hundred, had just gained three thousand new members. In the single month since the new cult leader’s inauguration, the cult had achieved a revival unprecedented in its history.
……
Ellara slammed the Divine Seal down so hard it looked like it might break.
Bang! Bang! ……Bang.
“Rowan. I’m so tired. Want me to give you the seal?”
“No.”
“My arm hurts…”
The two of them had just finished processing a hundred new believer admission forms and were taking a breather. Then came Rowan’s task of judging heretics.
“……They all look like heretics. We should just kick them all out.”
“You can’t.”
“Ugh, damn it!”
“This is a sacred place. No swearing!”
“……Sorry.”
After two more hours of desk work, Rowan collapsed onto the spot. Only then did Ellara, who had been waiting quietly because he had asked her not to speak while he worked, come running over.
“Darling, you’re amazing. How did you come up with that idea? At this rate, won’t our Wessel Cult become the state religion of the kingdom?”
The current number of Wessel believers was around four thousand. In terms of population, that was enough to be recognized as an official religious order and receive the rank of baron from the king. To become the state religion of the Arcadia Kingdom, however, at least thirty percent of the citizens had to believe. With the kingdom’s population at eight hundred thousand, they were still far short.
Rowan stopped thinking and answered curtly.
“……Drop the ‘darling.’ It’s gross.”
“What? We’re husband and wife. It feels weird to call you Cult Leader-nim…”
“Isn’t ‘darling’ even weirder at our age?”
Ellara puffed out her cheeks. “Why are you talking like that? So prickly.”
“Ah, sorry. There are… just too many believers in the cult. I’m tired.”
“But it turned out the way you wanted, didn’t it? Wasn’t this all for the sake of the cult’s revival?”
What Rowan had wanted was for the cult’s storehouses to run dry. Instead, thanks to the donations from the surging number of new believers, the cult’s wealth had actually multiplied. The newcomers were eager to offer donations in hopes of going to heaven.
……The result is terrible.
In the end, after giving away twenty percent, the cult had gained forty percent. Rowan pressed a hand to his forehead.
“I swear I’ll never give anything away again…”
But that vow had already come too late. The believers were now competing with one another to offer tribute.