The Fanatic Blind to Heresy - 3
The Dawn Church had not always been the continent's mainstream religion, nor had Enen always been the one true god. When the Dawn Church first took shape, the continent was a chaotic Warring States era of rampaging deities. In Enen's early days as the one true god, therefore, he had been nothing more than an ordinary sun god.
Whether the words "ordinary" and "sun god" could even coexist was debatable, but before the title of one true god, even a sun god was just "whatever." The god worshiped by the Twilight Cult had been an earth god back then, or so they said.
Perhaps that era still left its mark: the Dawn Church preferred cremation—burning bodies to send them skyward—while the Twilight Cult favored burial, interring the dead intact in the earth. Of course, none of that was what truly mattered.
"Our Lord looks down from the heavens upon all things upon the earth."
"So that's what it meant."
The sun god (who dwelled in the sky) was the natural arch-nemesis of the earth god (who could never escape the sun). Heretics empowered by some two-bit earth god? They could never slip past Enen's gaze.
And once he had thrashed every other god and cult into religious submission, Enen's power grew even more overwhelming. He could instantly see through any heretic who carried the power of a god other than himself.
Pile on top of that the extreme counter-affinity against the earth god? No matter how stealthily the Twilight Cult moved, it meant nothing to Tanian. What good was invisibility when someone dumped bright red paint all over you so that you stuck out whether anyone wanted to see you or not?
"Of course, I am not the omnipotent Lord Himself, but merely one temporarily granted a fragment of His power. The range of the tracking holy spell is narrow, and its duration short."
I nodded lightly; that was only natural. If Tanian's tracking had covered the entire continent for twenty-four hours straight, the Twilight Cult would already have gone to join the earth god they so adored.
Still, for a cult that lived by stealth alone, a being who nullified their only advantage must have been intensely irritating. Narrow range? Short duration? So what—if they unluckily got caught, it was total annihilation.
No wonder there were more assassination attempts on the Saint than on the Pope.
They must have decided to eliminate the extreme counter first. I'd wondered why they were so obsessed with the Saint—now I understood.
Idiots.
I understood, yet I still couldn't comprehend them. If things had gotten that tangled, they should have just converted. What glory did they think they would enjoy by clinging to the Twilight Cult?
As I felt once again the peculiar dignity of fanatics and stroked my chin, Tanian's triumphant expression caught my eye. Yes—with an ability like that, intercepting them alongside Tanian was clearly the right call. Since we already knew who they were targeting, range wouldn't be a problem.
"I'll review it positively."
"...That sounds ominous."
At my answer, Tanian's face turned dubious. "I'll review it positively" meant I had no authority in the matter whatsoever...
But what else could I do? I wasn't the highest authority on this. If I simply accepted Tanian's proposal here, the Minister of Foreign Affairs would drag me off by the hair. Who in their right mind took an assassination target to the front lines?
Honestly, it was a little frightening. How the hell was I supposed to gather two ministers and say something like, "If we send the assassination target close to the assassins, we can catch them easily!"?
I'm going crazy.
Still, when a subordinate showed the courage to step forward himself to prevent civilian casualties, even if I dreaded the scolding, as his superior I at least had to pass the word along.
I managed to screw up the courage to bring it up somehow.
"Audit Department Chief. No matter how hard the work is, isn't it better than having your head cut off?"
"I knew well that the Audit Department Chief wanted to retire, but I never imagined he had no attachment left to life itself either."
And the reaction was enthusiastic. Fuck—rather than a short curse, they were giving me the long version of "Sir, are you insane?"
The awkward smile of the Minister of Foreign Affairs and the indifferent successive blows from the Minister of Special Affairs left me reeling, but it was within the expected range of pushback.
"The effect is certain."
"That I acknowledge. That's why you're still sitting there."
Meaning if I'd brought some half-baked alternative with no real effect, they would have flipped the table on the spot. This was a positive signal. Even with a key foreign dignitary's safety on the line, not overturning the board immediately meant Tanian's tracking holy spell sounded rather attractive.
The problem was that I had no more cards to play. A little more shaking and they might reluctantly agree—but I had nothing left to shake with.
Still, clinging to a sliver of hope, I threw out whatever arguments might work even a little.
"If we miss even one of the Twilight Cult, chaos will break out in the Imperial Capital. Can't we prevent that?"
"As long as Her Grace the Magic Lord steps in, that won't happen."
Didn't work.
"Wouldn't it be nice to do the next Saint a favor and build up some debt?"
"Hmm, the gaze of the Holy Kingdom's College of Cardinals bothers me more than a debt from the next Saint."
This didn't work either.
"If we intercept them ourselves, the terrain near the Imperial Capital will be drastically altered. Might His Majesty the Emperor not be displeased?"
"Hmm."
"That is true."
Oh—this one landed.
I'd been ready to give up if this didn't work either, but luckily the third argument weighed on both ministers' minds. For civil servants, after all, the Emperor's anger right in front of them was more concerning than expressions of regret from some distant foreign country.
Interception was better than combat breaking out inside the Imperial Capital, certainly—but combat occurring within visual range of the capital was still a fairly serious problem.
And if they caused bombardments visible to civilians and terrain changes everyone could feel, essentially advertising "There was a fight here"? That would also displease the Emperor. They were only putting up with it because it was better than the capital being breached.
"...If the Audit Department Chief wants it this much, wouldn't it be alright?"
The Minister of Foreign Affairs, who had been hard at work thinking, carefully opened his mouth. Between the protests that would fly from the Holy Kingdom upon hearing the next Saint had gone to the front lines, and the scolding from the Emperor for making a spectacular mess near the capital, he seemed to have chosen the former.
And in the process, he emphasized that I wanted it, naturally shifting the responsibility onto me. It was true, but it was so natural I could cry.
"Audit Department Chief."
"Yes."
"I trust that the Audit Department Chief and Mukgwangdae will be sufficient."
The Minister of Special Affairs eventually nodded as well. Conditional approval—as long as I stuck thoroughly by Tanian's side, it was fine for him to leave the capital.
"Of course, Your Excellency."
I accepted quickly, since that was my intention anyway. Was I crazy enough to leave unattended a key dignitary who could get a perforated line drawn across my neck if so much as a finger was cut?
At my answer, the Minister of Special Affairs let out a small sigh, and the Minister of Foreign Affairs wiped his sweat with a handkerchief, looking conflicted. No matter how much more frightening the Emperor's anger was, foreign protests were still a nuisance.
Even at the moment of final approval, they must have been wondering if this was right. I understood. It was merely choosing the lesser evil between the worst and the second-worst. I felt just as conflicted.
Doing something I don't usually do all of a sudden.
Normally it would be enough just to stick by Luise's side and smile. I'd brought her along thinking that was the plan, so what more could I hope for?
"I'm not great enough to prevent soldiers from sacrificing themselves, but shouldn't we at least prevent civilian casualties?"
But when he acted just like Oliver, I couldn't ignore it.
Religious people, I swear.
Having lived in a world with more non-believers than devout ones, it was hard to understand.
Well, it was fine. This level of difference in beliefs was perfectly understandable.
"Have the Audit Department Chief convey it to the Magic Lord."
Damn it.
This dumping of work I really couldn't understand.
In the end, I went to see the Magic Lord again after only a few hours.
"Little one? What's the matter?"
At the second visit, the Magic Lord perked her ears and tilted her head. She probably didn't expect the fellow who'd left after talking business to come back with more business.
"Well, Your Grace."
And after hearing my explanation, the Magic Lord looked as though she had received a cultural shock. She seemed unable to process this novel interception method of placing the assassination target at the very front lines.
"...These days you handle things in unique ways."
The Magic Lord, who had kept her mouth shut, spoke in a drained voice. Drained—but the difference was so minute you wouldn't notice without listening carefully.
She was probably thinking that maybe she, having reached one hundred and twenty years of age, simply didn't understand the trends these days. For the Magic Lord who already fretted over her age, it was a situation that naturally made her depressed.
But it was a misunderstanding. This wasn't a current trend, and it shouldn't become a future trend either. Injecting weird common sense into a long-lived race was troublesome.
"It's because of special circumstances. There won't be another occasion like this, so please don't worry."
"I see."
Her voice regained its strength, but her drooping ears showed no sign of returning to their place. Had the shock been greater than I thought?
"Ah, Your Grace. I've been gratefully drinking the potions you gave me last time."
Leaving after upsetting a duke's mood was a recipe for future trouble. She might harbor a grudge over today's matter and take revenge in some strange way.
So to change the subject, I brought up the potions and offered thanks, and only then did her ears return to their original position. Yes—this was the answer. For elders, a thank-you for eating what they gave you well was the best.
"Does it suit your body well?"
"Yes. I feel the effects every day."
"Then that's a relief."
Seeing her nod in satisfaction put my mind at ease. I could go home now without any issues.
"If you run short, come to the Magic Tower."
"Ah, are you selling them?"
I'd been worried that since she wasn't actually selling them, I'd just get a taste and that would be the end of it—good that it worked out.
"I'll just give them to you, so you only need to bring your body."
Oh.
The grace of Mother Magic Lord was broader and deeper than I had thought.