A Goddess's Dream
When Elbridge arrived at the temple, a plump, middle-aged woman greeted him warmly.
“High Priest, sir. You’ve returned?”
“It’s been a while. Have you been well?”
“Yes. Thanks to you.”
The woman’s name was Matilda. She was the freelance administrative priest Elbridge had hired before leaving Soleneon.
A freelance administrative priest was someone who handled the administrative affairs of minor religious orders in exchange for payment. Naturally, this profession had not existed two hundred years ago.
When there had been only Elbridge as a believer, there had been no need for freelance priests.
But the Rusty Shield Order now desperately needed one. Though their numbers were only in the hundreds, believers now lived in eastern Soleneon as well. They could not show those believers a temple empty of people and filled with nothing but dust.
Elbridge set down his luggage and asked.
“Matilda. Were there any particular incidents while I was away?”
“Well… Soleneon has been noisy with all sorts of problems, but nothing much happened to our order.”
“I see. Have many believers left in the meantime?”
Matilda answered without hesitation.
“After the last Grand Tournament we had a little over a thousand believers, right? Now it’s probably a bit less than that. Roughly… seven or eight hundred remaining, I’d say.”
Eight hundred?
Of course, this was a reaction Elbridge could not understand.
Is she in denial?
The Goddess, who could grasp the present situation more accurately than anyone, had no reason to be swayed by the words of a salaried worker like Matilda.
Though he could not be certain, the number of Rusty Shield Order believers actually living in Soleneon was probably closer to three hundred than eight hundred.
“Matilda. Isn’t it possible the true number is even lower?”
“It could be. But don’t worry too much. It’s not a problem that can be solved by fretting over it.”
“Hmm…”
“Is there some particular reason for your concern?”
“It’s because of the seats.”
When Elbridge answered without much thought, Matilda burst into reflexive laughter.
“Pfft.”
“…”
There was no malice in Matilda’s laugh. It had simply slipped out.
She quickly regained her composure and apologized.
“Ahem. I’m sorry.”
“…It’s all right.”
“High Priest. You know that ever since the Lord God examined the other dimensions and introduced the parliamentary system, the Heavenly Assembly has been fixed at exactly three hundred seats, yes?”
“Yes. I am aware.”
“Among the countless orders, only a tiny fraction have ever claimed even one seat. To be brutally honest, even if the Rusty Shield Order gathered ten times its current number of believers, it still could not secure a seat.”
Naturally, Matilda knew nothing of what had happened in the mountain city of Varkuntol.
Elbridge wondered what expression she would make if she learned he had absorbed more than half of the Iron Anvil Order’s forces.
Of course, he had no intention of telling her. The story would be long, and she would almost certainly disbelieve him. Though, he admitted, a small part of him did want to see her look of astonishment.
Matilda continued in a calm tone.
“I’ve heard the Chief Holy Knight and High Priest is an outstanding knight. And you are still young. I’m sure you can achieve many things. But some matters in this world simply require time. Expanding an order’s influence is the classic example.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“Instead of gazing at those brilliant heights and growing impatient, I believe now is the time to look squarely at the ordinary majority and calm your heart. The higher the expectation, the greater the disappointment.”
“I understand. By the way, you said Soleneon was in an uproar while I was gone. What exactly happened?”
“All sorts of things. Rumors about demonic beasts came almost daily, and then a demon actually appeared…”
At the word demon, Elbridge’s ears sharpened.
“A demon appeared?”
“Yes. You heard that everyone in Viscount Dickens’s territory vanished last spring, didn’t you? It turned out a demon was responsible. And recently a demon appeared in a village not far from Soleneon. The whole place was thrown into chaos. What is the world coming to…”
“Could you tell me a little more about that demon?”
“I don’t know the details myself. The atmosphere was so heavy it felt wrong to pry.”
“I see.”
Fortunately, Elbridge had a convenient neighbor to ask.
The Bloodied Spear Order right next door.
However, he did not need to visit them. Before he could finish organizing his luggage, someone entered the temple.
“Elbridge!”
When he turned, he saw Felix with his left arm wrapped in bandages.
“I heard a rumor you were back, and here you are.”
“It even became a rumor?”
“Of course it did. Where did you disappear to for so long, leaving the temple empty?”
“There was business in a rather distant place.”
Hmm.
The Goddess of the Rusty Shield was not particularly fond of Felix.
His earlier remark calling the Rusty Shield Order a “shipwreck” had left a deep wound in her heart.
Elbridge. If your Goddess has one dream, it is to surpass the Bloodied Spear Order’s seats even if only once.
However, in Elbridge’s opinion the chance of that dream coming true this year was low.
The Bloodied Spear Order already held two seats, after all.
Felix spoke to him.
“I happened to have something to tell you, so it’s fortunate you returned in time.”
“Something to tell me?”
“There is currently some friction between the hill orders and the lowland orders.”
In other words, a dispute between combat orders and non-combat orders.
“Elbridge. You know that demonic beast sightings have become frequent lately, yes?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks to that, trade between cities has grown difficult… Up to that point it was manageable. But at the end of last month a demon appeared east of Soleneon, and that became a serious problem.”
It seemed this was the same demon Matilda had mentioned.
The bandages wrapped around Felix’s left arm and shoulder were particularly noticeable. He had almost certainly fought the demon.
“What was the result?”
Felix silently shook his head. A vague answer.
Elbridge frowned and pressed him.
“Felix. If you’re going to bring it up, finish the story.”
“We were defeated.”
“More detail.”
“Its skin was pitch-black like the night sky, and it was as tall as the temple spire. Its limbs, wreathed in black flames, were several times thicker than a grown man’s torso. The moment I saw it, I knew we were finished.”
The description felt strangely familiar.
When he had faced the distorted beast in Varkuntol, the demon that had lent it power had looked exactly like this.
“We were utterly defeated in battle. Many died, and even more were injured. But we did gain something. We broke through the barrier the demon created and evacuated the villagers.”
“Hmm.”
In Elbridge’s eyes, that was actually a rather commendable result.
Even the holy knights of old had often been defeated by demons. In many cases defeat had been certain from the very start of battle.
The reason holy knights still entered such fights was simple: to rescue survivors.
The Bloodied Spear Order had been defeated, but they had fulfilled their role. Felix himself did not seem to realize it.
“…The problem was that roughly half of the people we rescued had a brand the size of two finger joints burned into their bodies.”
“A brand.”
“Every night the brand would burn a little further from top to bottom, and each time the victims suffered unbearable agony. The pain was so severe that even slapping them across the face wouldn’t bring them to their senses.”
“What happened when the brand finished burning?”
“They all died.”
Felix let out a deep sigh.
“If we had arrived even a little sooner, we might have found a way. We might have been able to request help from other orders and solve the problem somehow. But the Golden Platter Order made the timing too tight.”
“The Golden Platter Order?”
“Yes. Those bastards apparently wanted to handle the situation themselves, so they didn’t immediately inform the other orders that a demon had appeared. They gathered their own holy knights and wasted several days dithering.”
Elbridge recalled the Golden Platter Order’s holy knights.
The image of five of them struggling pathetically against a single crow beast was still vivid.
They must have improved since then, but no matter how he thought about it, they did not seem capable of fighting a demon with confidence.
Felix’s opinion matched his own.
“People who can’t even hunt demonic beasts properly have no business fighting a demon. After wasting all that time, they finally asked our order for help.”
Felix’s face had turned red with anger.
“…I know. The Golden Platter Order didn’t want to lose their vested interests. But when people’s lives are at stake, they shouldn’t act that way. We barely had any time to respond…”
“Hmm.”
“In the end, our Chief Holy Knight went to the Golden Platter Order and made a request. Leave the fighting to us combat orders, and have the White Backs support our side instead…”
The story had been understandable until the unfamiliar term appeared.
“What are White Backs?”
“You don’t know?”
When Elbridge nodded, Felix’s expression grew slightly uncomfortable.
“People who refuse to vote until the very last moment at the end of the year, then declare support for whichever order promises them the most money. That’s what we call White Backs.”
Elbridge could guess why they had earned that nickname.
The backs of the hands of those who had declared their faith to a particular god would bear that order’s emblem, gleaming brightly.
If they withheld their declaration while weighing conditions until the final night, their hands would remain pure white until the end.
“Are there many such people?”
“Quite a few. In Soleneon alone they could account for five or six seats. They even form groups and elect representatives to negotiate on their behalf.”
Disgust had crept into Felix’s voice.
It seemed that even in an era where faith had become a commercial enterprise, the White Backs were considered to have gone too far.
“What does it mean to ask for their support?”
“Wealthy orders like the Golden Platter Order or the Olive Tree Order pay the price, but the White Backs declare their support to us instead.”
In short, non-combat orders would buy their votes and pass them to the combat orders.
…Good heavens.
It was astonishing that such a transaction could even be conceived.
Yet at the same time it was a rather rational deal. What other method could so simply increase seats and strengthen the holy knights’ powers?
Of course, there was one prerequisite.
“Will the Golden Platter Order agree?”
“If they refuse to cooperate, we will have to be uncooperative as well. We’ll make it clear that they can only be protected if they accept our conditions.”
At those words, Elbridge felt an inexplicable sense of foreboding.
“…In what way?”
“Even if demons or demonic beasts appear, we will not help them. Whether they live or die…”
Elbridge felt a strong surge of revulsion.
Could such words as “live or die” really come from the mouth of a holy knight?
Felix noticed Elbridge’s expression and added an explanation.
“Not only our Bloodied Spear Order, but the Laurel Wreath Order and the Deer Antler Order have agreed as well. Oracles have come down to each order, and nearly every combat order has decided to act together.”
It meant the gods themselves had approved the response.
Elbridge grew confused.
“…I’m not sure that is the right course, Felix.”
“I know what you’re thinking. Painful news may reach us for a while. But this is the path that will reduce sacrifice in the long term. If we cannot quickly secure seats, far more people will have to suffer in the future.”
Felix looked at Elbridge with an expression utterly free of shame.
It was certainly a persuasive argument, and it seemed beneficial for the order’s future. Yet whether it was the right decision, Elbridge could not tell.
Felix extended his hand.
“We combat orders must obtain as much power as possible, as quickly as possible. For the sake of the people of this world.”
However, Elbridge could not take that hand.
“…I need to think about it a little longer, Felix.”
“All right. Let me know once you’ve made up your mind.”
That night, Elbridge tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
The next day, a welcome face visited the Rusty Shield temple. It was Marcus, who had come to distribute the gains obtained from the central region.
Marcus raised his right hand high and asked.
“Sir Elbridge. Why the long face?”
After a moment’s hesitation, Elbridge relayed what he had heard from Felix.
Marcus’s expression grew serious.
“Sir Elbridge. I’m not sure what’s right and wrong here, but I have one question.”
“What is it?”
“If the combat orders receive those votes, which order do the votes actually go to?”
“Well… they would probably divide them fairly.”
“Fairly, you say. According to what standard? We mercenaries don’t use such vague expressions.”
This was a problem Elbridge had not considered. What could possibly be a fair standard?
Or rather, was a fair division even possible?
At that moment, Marcus’s face suddenly stiffened.
He lowered his voice to a whisper.
“Sir Elbridge. The God of the Fox Rain has sent an oracle saying he wishes to speak with you.”
“The God of the Fox Rain?”
Why would a god from another order wish to speak with him?
Elbridge offered a brief prayer to the Goddess of the Rusty Shield.
“Goddess?”
But no answer came.
The Goddess of the Rusty Shield tended not to listen to prayers the morning after she had delivered a late-night oracle.
After a little more thought, Elbridge nodded.
“Please speak.”
“Er, I will simply relay the oracle as it was given.”
Marcus cleared his throat a couple of times, then spoke in a rather solemn voice.
Elbridge. Do you truly believe the combat orders will support the Rusty Shield Order?
They will not. Or at best they will offer the bare minimum.
They may understand with their heads that helping your order is the wise choice, but their hearts are different. People would rather see the world burn while they hold power than watch it flourish after they have lost it. And the world moves according to people’s hearts, not their heads.
But this matter is guided by the gods of each order, not ordinary people, you say?
Those who ascended to godhood were once human. What difference is there between gods and men? Stupid…
…My apologies. Look at your ditzy Goddess of the Rusty Shield. Out of the more than twenty seats she once held, how many does she have now?
If the gods had been willing to set aside their greed two hundred years ago, the Rusty Shield Order should have held at least forty or fifty seats at the time. Yet it stopped at merely twenty-two. That is proof that even the gods of the combat orders could not abandon their greed.
I saw your Goddess grow depressed yesterday. It seems keeping even two seats has become difficult. Am I wrong?
If I were you, I would not wait for the goodwill of the other combat orders.
Then what should I do?
I would flip the board here and now. Do not think you must stop at two seats. Seize more than that, even if you must resort to dirty tricks. Three seats, five seats…
Excessive greed will inevitably cause conflict. That has been true since two hundred years ago. And without cooperating with the other orders, we cannot win the war against the demons.
That was then. This is now.
What is different?
At that time there were holy knights comparable to you or Leonhardt. But there are none now. In the entire eastern region there is not a single holy knight who can replace you. For the time being, concentrating power in your hands is the most rational decision.
Right now you could turn every combat order into an enemy and it would not matter. Before long they will all kneel before you and beg for help.
Elbridge’s expression grew grave.
The oracle had been relayed to the end.