Wandering

Flip the board. Whether it's three seats or five, seize every single one you can get your hands on.

It was certainly a tempting offer. If the Goddess of the Rusty Shield had heard it, wouldn't she have shed tears of deep emotion?

But there was one very important problem with the oracle delivered by the God of the Fox Rain.

'...Just how?'

Had the other orders simply chosen not to increase their seats because they didn't want to?

No. They simply couldn't, because there was no way to do it.

So how could the Rusty Shield Order suddenly snatch up several seats?

And today was already the second day of voting. Including today, only four days remained until the deadline.

Elbridge asked,

"God of the Fox Rain. Please tell me the method."

Then Marcus answered in the god's stead.

"Figure it out yourself."

When Elbridge's expression turned subtle, Marcus waved his hands dismissively.

"I just relayed the oracle exactly as the God of the Fox Rain gave it to me. The oracle is over."

"...Understood. Thank you. Both to the God of the Fox Rain and to you, Marcus."

Elbridge crossed his arms and fell into thought.

'So far, the God of the Fox Rain has never spoken empty words. There must be some method...'

The problem was that an ordinary person could not possess as broad a perspective as the God of the Fox Rain.

When Elbridge sank deep into contemplation, Marcus rose from his seat.

"I'll leave the things I brought from the central region here. As for the items that are awkward to dispose of or divide, I'll leave them with Rombel, so talk to him later... See you around."

"Understood. Safe travels."

After seeing Marcus off, Elbridge continued pacing around the temple, lost in thought.

It was still early, before Matilda had even arrived for work, so no one was there to disturb his thinking.

'Let's start from the beginning.'

Currently, three main forces were moving to claim the remaining seats.

The combat orders.

The non-combat orders.

And the White Hands.

'Negotiating with the combat orders...'

Didn't seem like a very good idea. Hadn't the God of the Fox Rain explicitly stated that the back-alley combat orders would try to keep the Rusty Shield Order in check?

'Still, it's worth hearing them out.'

Having made up his mind, Elbridge headed straight for the Temple of the Bloodied Spear.

Felix was not at the Temple of the Bloodied Spear. But the priest recognized Elbridge immediately.

"Sir Elbridge, isn't it? What brings you here?"

"May I meet with the High Holy Knight?"

"Please wait a moment."

The priest scurried off and returned shortly.

"Sir Elbridge. This way, please."

Elbridge followed the priest to the back of the temple.

The High Holy Knight must have been training since dawn; he greeted Elbridge while wiping sweat with a towel.

"If it isn't Sir Elbridge. What brings you to see me?"

During the recent Grand Tournament, Elbridge had faced five Holy Knights of the Bloodied Spear Order alone before forfeiting. It hadn't been intentional, but it had essentially insulted the Bloodied Spear Order.

Fortunately, both then and now, the High Holy Knight didn't seem particularly bothered by the incident.

"Felix told me yesterday. The combat orders are planning to negotiate with the non-combat orders."

"That's correct. The combat orders must secure as many seats as possible by any means necessary. If the Rusty Shield Order joins us, it would be a great help."

A far more polite and forceful invitation than expected.

'He's more serious about this than I thought.'

Elbridge tried to view the current situation through the eyes of the Bloodied Spear Order's High Holy Knight.

The High Holy Knight knew nothing about what had happened in the mountain city of Varkuntol. To him, the Rusty Shield Order was nothing more than a tiny order with a single Holy Knight and roughly three hundred believers.

Even if all the back-alley orders combined their seats, they would only have seven or eight at most.

Yet the difference between an order with seats and one without was as vast as heaven and earth.

There was no reason for them to pay any attention to a Rusty Shield Order with only three hundred believers.

Nevertheless, the Bloodied Spear Order was actively trying to draw Elbridge into the negotiations.

Because they needed three hundred believers?

No. What they wanted was Elbridge alone.

"High Holy Knight. I have a question."

"Go ahead."

"If the negotiations with the non-combat orders succeed and you gain the support of the White Hands, how do you plan to distribute the votes?"

"We plan to actively gather opinions from each order and present a fair standard. Since there isn't much time left, the sooner we finish the negotiations, the more time we'll have to reach a consensus."

Elbridge nodded.

"I see. Understood."

"Any other questions?"

"Not at the moment."

"Come see me anytime something comes to mind. The sooner you decide, the better."

As Elbridge left the Temple of the Bloodied Spear, he thought,

'Actively gather opinions and present a fair standard...'

On the surface, it sounded like a principled, harmless answer.

If this had been the usual Elbridge, he wouldn't have questioned it at all.

But right now, he had just spoken with the God of the Fox Rain.

'How would the God of the Fox Rain have interpreted those words?'

A "fair standard" usually meant a uniform one, and "actively gathering opinions" implied that the voices of the minority would not be considered.

In other words, there was a high chance that the interests of a small order like the Rusty Shield would barely be reflected in the standard presented after negotiations.

'That's the natural flow of things. It would be better to eliminate complaints from all the other orders than to artificially twist the standard just to satisfy our order.'

As he thought that far, another suspicious point emerged.

'...By the way, they still haven't decided on the distribution standard?'

Only four days remained until voting ended, and Elbridge had only returned yesterday.

It was far more likely that the "fair standard" had already been decided and they simply weren't telling him, rather than it not being set yet.

'Is there a reason they wouldn't tell me the standard?'

There was.

If the "fair standard" they had established was unfavorable to the Rusty Shield Order, it would be advantageous not to reveal it to Elbridge right now.

Viewing the current situation from the angle the God of the Fox Rain had provided, possibilities that had been invisible before now came into view.

Perhaps because he had thought so desperately for the first time in a long while, his head began to throb.

'Did the God of the Fox Rain already know all of this?'

Almost certainly.

Elbridge inwardly marveled.

'As expected, those eight seats weren't given for free.'

At that moment, an oracle reached his ears.

Elbridge pondered for a moment what he should say, then offered a prayer.

"If I have my goddess's encouragement, I feel like every problem will be solved."

"..."

Though he had received his goddess's encouragement, Elbridge somehow felt strange.

Leaving the negotiations to the combat orders and hoping for some scraps was not the best option.

Now only one path remained for Elbridge: to move independently without mixing in with the combat orders.

'Should I go find a representative of the White Hands?'

No. That was an impossible choice. He had heard that the White Hands were people who followed nothing but money.

What they wanted was money, and nothing else.

But Elbridge and the Rusty Shield Order could not offer the enormous sum needed to move six or seven seats.

In other words, negotiation itself was impossible.

'Wait. If we scrape together every last bit of the order's assets, we might barely manage to secure two seats...'

But the God of the Fox Rain would not have given an oracle expecting such an outcome.

Elbridge set that method aside as a last resort.

'I should go to the non-combat orders and ask them to support me instead of the other combat orders.'

Among the non-combat orders with branches in Soleneon, two stood out in scale.

The Golden Platter Order with sixty-one seats, and the Olive Tree Order with thirty-seven.

'It would be better to visit the Golden Platter Order first, since we have at least some connection.'

Elbridge descended the hill and arrived at the Temple of the Golden Platter.

Unlike the temples in the back alleys, the Temple of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Golden Platter was bustling with believers. The temple itself was easily twenty times larger than the Rusty Shield Order's.

Elbridge spoke to the first priest he encountered.

"Excuse me, Priest."

"Yes? Who are you?"

"I am Elbridge, High Holy Knight and Archbishop of the Rusty Shield Order. Would it be possible to meet with the Archbishop?"

"The Archbishop is in the south."

Since the Golden Platter Order wielded influence across the entire continent, there was no reason for an Archbishop to be stationed in the east.

"Then who is the highest-ranking person in the eastern diocese?"

"Auxiliary Bishop Heinz is in charge of the east."

"Could I meet with Auxiliary Bishop Heinz?"

"That might be difficult. He's an extremely busy man."

"I beg you. Please just pass on my message."

The priest spoke with a troubled expression.

"Then... could you wait a little?"

"Of course."

The priest slipped away.

But Elbridge could already guess the outcome.

This was clearly going to be rejected. In fact, it probably wouldn't even reach the Auxiliary Bishop.

'Isn't there anyone who might help?'

While Elbridge was looking around, a plump middle-aged man suddenly raised his hand high.

"Hey there, isn't that Sir Elbridge?"

"Hmm..."

The face looked familiar, but he couldn't quite remember where he had seen it.

As Elbridge hesitated, the man grinned and pointed at his own eyes. Only then did Elbridge realize who he was.

It was Rob, the Holy Knight instructor whose eyes had been gouged out by a crow-type demonic beast.

"...Sir Rob."

"Haha! I thought I should at least come thank you once my eyes healed, but by the time they did, you were no longer at the temple."

Apparently having completely forgotten the slightly awkward atmosphere from back then, Rob's tone was extremely friendly. Which was, of course, good for Elbridge.

"I left to take care of some business and only returned yesterday."

"Good. I'll stop by the Rusty Shield Order soon to make a donation. So, what brings you here?"

"I came hoping I might be able to meet with the Auxiliary Bishop."

"Wait here a moment. I'll go ask right away..."

There was confidence in Rob's voice. It seemed he held a fairly high position within the order.

Sure enough, Rob reappeared in no time and beckoned to Elbridge.

"Come this way."

Rob guided Elbridge to the Auxiliary Bishop's office and simply cracked the door open for him.

Elbridge bowed deeply to Rob and entered the Auxiliary Bishop's office.

Inside, there was a desk piled high with papers, and beyond it sat a gaunt old man.

'So this is the head of the Golden Platter Order's eastern diocese...'

High-ranking clergy usually had wrinkles at the corners of their eyes.

But Auxiliary Bishop Heinz had more wrinkles between his brows than at the corners of his eyes.

Even though Elbridge had entered, Auxiliary Bishop Heinz did not look at him.

Still staring at the stack of papers on his desk, he said,

"You're from the Rusty Shield Order?"

"Yes."

"I heard the knight who saved Rob performed brilliantly at the Grand Tournament... There are many things I'd like to discuss, but unfortunately it's year-end and I have no time. May I hear your business first?"

It was unclear whether he was even listening properly.

But beating around the bush in front of a busy man seemed like a bad idea, so Elbridge spoke directly.

"Auxiliary Bishop. I heard you are preparing to negotiate with the combat orders over the remaining seats."

Auxiliary Bishop Heinz slightly furrowed his brow.

"Negotiate? No. Those fellows basically just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gave us a half-hearted ultimatum. Since you've come to see me separately... it seems you have no intention of mixing in with them?"

"That's correct."

Auxiliary ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Bishop Heinz was a man who moved conversations along at an astonishing pace.

In his youth, he might have been a merchant rather than a priest.

Auxiliary Bishop Heinz dipped his quill deeply into the ink and continued writing as he spoke.

"So. Do you think the Golden Platter Order has any reason to negotiate with you instead of them?"

"There is only one thing I can put forward. My ability."

"I heard that at the last Grand Tournament you single-handedly defeated five Holy Knights from the Bloodied Spear Order. But what about twenty? Or a hundred? There is a limit to how many people one man can replace. Which means we have no reason to choose you over the other combat orders."

At first listen, it sounded like a cold rejection.

But Elbridge realized that Auxiliary ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Bishop Heinz was actually paying close attention to his answer.

"No. There is a reason."

"Let's hear it."

"I can become their leader."

"That's just your wishful thinking."

"I'm the only Holy Knight in Soleneon who has sealed a demon, aren't I?"

The hand of Auxiliary Bishop Heinz, which had been dancing across the paper, stopped.

And for the first time, Heinz raised his head and looked directly at Elbridge.

"Sealed? Not fought, but sealed?"

"Yes. Sealed."

"...I swear by the God of the Golden Platter, if any other answer had come back, I would have told you to leave without wasting any more of my time."

Auxiliary Bishop Heinz placed his quill back in the inkwell and gestured toward the chair across from his desk.

"Have a seat. Let's talk for a bit."