Multi-Species, Multi-Faith - 7
Thanks to the silence of the conservative faction, led by the Ministry of Doctrine and Faith, the agenda concerning the World Tree and Constantina was wrapped up with remarkable speed. I had said with my own mouth that I was busy and needed to get back soon, but I never expected it to end this quickly. I had figured it would take at least a week.
"We shall dispatch an official delegation to celebrate the revival of the World Tree to the Non-Human Protection Zone under the Kpelleofen Empire, and the diocese within the Non-Human Protection Zone shall determine its continued existence or gradual withdrawal through agreement with the local non-human races."
At the Pope's words, the cardinals either applauded or silently nodded. With the outcome already decided, their will to follow it—even if it did not sit well with them—was plain to see.
"Furthermore, we redesignate the World Tree as a divine beast of the Dawn Church, and we recognize the existence of Constantina, who bestowed the World Tree upon the continent, as a deity of the continent. This decision is hereby declared to have been made by the unanimous consent of the College of Cardinals."
A monumental declaration: the Dawn Church, which had proclaimed monotheism, officially acknowledging the existence of another god.
In the midst of that historic moment, the Pope brought the gavel down three times with a serene expression.
"We shall now move on to the next item on the agenda."
But the Ecumenical Council was only just beginning. Even the historic World Tree agenda was merely one among the countless matters the Council had to address.
How many years is this going to take?
As far as I remembered, Dawn Church Ecumenical Councils lasted at least several months, and at longest several years.
Of course, they did not hold council every single day of the three hundred sixty-five. It was more like a seasonal menu—allocated to a fixed period each year. If the Church's entire leadership were truly tied up in council year-round, the Church would collapse.
Though it was precisely because of that limitation that councils dragged on for years.
I'll just ignore it and live my life.
Watching the Council look ready to turn into a non-human mire all over again, I quietly closed my eyes.
I was not a cardinal, and I was certainly not a devout believer. I was merely a single witness invited for the World Tree agenda. And now that the World Tree agenda had passed successfully, there was nothing more for me to concern myself with.
If I buried it deep in the back of my mind, someday I would hear the news that the Council had ended—
"The agenda concerning the Eternal Blue Sky, the indigenous culture of the northern nomads."
?
What.
In this unfamiliar place I had just heard a familiar name. Why was that name coming up here?
Is this even allowed?
I found myself scanning the atmosphere unbidden. The sheer audacity of bringing up the Eternal Blue Sky right after recognizing Constantina as an independent deity. Even I, a mere spectator, felt my head spin; the shock the cardinals must be feeling had to be considerable.
No—it should have been considerable.
"The Eternal Blue Sky... that was the being called the Primordial God, was it not?"
"As I recall, it was a case of sky worship developing into a faith. I heard wolf worship was also mixed in, though it is rather hazy."
Yet the cardinals' reaction was calmer than expected. There was murmuring, but it was not rejection or dismay at the agenda itself—it was simply the sharing of information about the deity known as the Eternal Blue Sky.
Strange. No matter how far beneath Constantina the Eternal Blue Sky stood, a god was still a god. They were in a position of having to recognize a new deity, and they were this composed?
Have they achieved enlightenment?
The thought crossed my mind in spite of myself. Having already recognized Constantina as a god, perhaps they had entered a state of pure enjoyment where one heresy or two or three made no difference. If that was not it, nothing made sense.
"It is a consideration for the Empire."
"Hm?"
While I was lost in my own serious fretting, Tanian whispered softly.
"The reason the Empire reigns as an empire is the Mandate of Heaven—that is, the favor and protection of God. Yet we have just recognized a new deity called Constantina, have we not? That creates room for the Mandate of Heaven to be interpreted in multiple directions."
Ah.
Only then did it click.
Right. The Empire is an empire thanks to the Mandate of Heaven. If a god other than Enen is officially recognized, a new Mandate could arise. In the extreme, if some mad monarch converted to a heresy and declared, "I too am an emperor who has received the Mandate of Heaven!" the Dawn Church would have no retort.
Of course, national power is also a component of the Mandate, so the Empire would not actually be shaken by heresy. The problem was that even a sliver of room had been left.
...It'll be fine, right?
For a moment I saw a future in which the Emperor tore me a new one, but I forced myself to settle my heart.
The Emperor knew I had gone as a witness to prove the World Tree's revival. I could not lie in front of the Pope and the cardinals, so he would understand how things had flowed this way. I had only spoken the truth, after all.
Even if I had shoved the World Tree agenda at the cardinals while they were fighting over other matters, the part about being busy and needing to return quickly had been genuine too. Honestly, the Emperor would not want me lingering in the Holy Kingdom for months or years either.
"But if the Eternal Blue Sky also becomes a god, it will benefit the Empire."
"The Empire?"
"Yes. Because the Emperor has styled himself a friend of the non-human races, it is difficult to handle Constantina, the god of the elves, unilaterally. But the Eternal Blue Sky is the god of the nomads who submitted to the Empire. As a deity recognized by the Dawn Church, it can be utilized for the stability of the imperial system."
And with Tanian's perfect logic, my anxiety vanished completely.
"I see."
Truly sound reasoning. I had not left room for the Mandate of Heaven to waver. On the contrary, I had brought back an element that would make the Empire even more solid and give the nomads reason to remain loyal.
Thinking of it that way was simply more comfortable.
The first day of the Ecumenical Council came to a close.
At the same time, my role as a Council witness ended, and I was a free man. Whatever remained, the cardinals would handle on their own.
"Since we've come all the way to a foreign country, let's do some sightseeing starting tomorrow."
So I proposed, drawing Trixie into my arms by the waist. We had come thinking of it as something of a honeymoon, after all. Returning the moment my witness duties ended would be far less appealing than wandering about a bit.
Enestiye was the holy land of the Dawn Church and the center of continental religious affairs—a city where diverse people and cultures coexisted. Being a city of religious character, glamorous, carefree tourism would be difficult, but the distinctive atmosphere was more than enough to enjoy.
Moreover, with the first Ecumenical Council in centuries underway, far more people than usual had flocked here, driven by the desire to share in that historic moment. As a result, quite a few street stalls had opened as well.
"Sightseeing?"
Yet an unexpected reaction came back. Anyone could hear the note of difficulty in her voice.
"Why? Are you tired, maybe?"
"It is not that, but should we not return to the Empire at once?"
And with the words that followed, I understood Trixie's reaction. She was asking whether we ought to report swiftly to the Emperor and discuss countermeasures before the results of this Council gradually spread among the ruling classes of every nation.
A perfectly understandable response. Constantina's recognition was confirmed, and the Eternal Blue Sky was on the verge of recognition as well. It was an affair that would shake the continent's very values; the swiftest possible response was indeed necessary.
"It's fine. I already told him."
But the response was the Emperor's job, not mine. Sending messages from the scene in real time was more than enough. Honestly, what could the Minister of the Inspectorate Ministry even do about a religious problem by returning home? Put the churches spread throughout the Empire under inspection?
Decisively, that bastard the Emperor had not even told me when to return when he sent me off. Out of conscience I had no intention of planting myself here for weeks, but returning after a single day was even less appealing.
"So let's rest properly for a few days and then go. When else are we going to get to sightsee in a foreign country like this?"
At that, Trixie's ears slowly began to rise toward the sky.
As expected—Trixie had wanted to play as well.
Great rights bring great duties.
Thus an emperor more noble and exalted than any other must also perform duties heavier and more merciless than any other.
This is driving me mad.
Even so, I had never expected such a vicious duty to be piled upon me. Why did these things have to erupt during my reign?
Official recognition, is it.
In the end a dry laugh escaped me. During the Religious War, Constantina had cooperated willingly with Enen, and the Dawn Church had not oppressed the community of Constantina's faith. On the contrary, they had shown a measure of respect, calling her the one who had bestowed the World Tree upon the continent; unofficially and by custom she had been treated as "equivalent to a god."
But now they meant to go beyond that level and grant her recognition as an independent divinity. The monotheistic system that had endured from the Dawn Church's victory until the present—over several centuries—had been shaken.
And not only Constantina; the recognition of the Eternal Blue Sky was said to be on the verge of confirmation as well. Now this continent had not one god, but three.
The sun, the greenery, and the sky.
I disliked myself for thinking, even in the midst of it, that it made a rather plausible combination.
It is not bad.
Continuing to let out dry laughs, I reached a conclusion.
Once this fact became known, the continent would certainly be thrown into turmoil. The churches spread across every region would be agitated, the faithful would mill about in confusion, and the nobles would begin their games of reading the room.
Yet surprisingly, it was not truly a bad situation. Had it ended with Constantina's recognition alone, it would have been a headache. But with the Eternal Blue Sky recognized as well, calamity had turned to fortune.
The Eternal Blue Sky is part of the Empire.
The North had become imperial territory, and the influential tribal chiefs had become nobles. The Empire had declared that it would respect the culture of the North, and the Emperor had become the Khan of the nomads. That meant there was no problem even if the Emperor claimed suzerainty over the Eternal Blue Sky Faith of the nomads.
By contrast, the non-human races who were Constantina's followers were, nominally, not imperial subjects but the Emperor's friends—an ambiguous status—but fortunately the Empire and the non-human races were on friendly terms. Even the foolish rulers before His Retired Majesty had maintained passable relations with them, so as long as the Empire did not make unreasonable demands first, the non-human races would not raise a fuss over this matter.
No—beyond remaining quiet, the likelihood that they would be cooperative toward the Empire was extremely high. The Empire had long been friendly with the Dawn Church, and now it had seized control of the Eternal Blue Sky Faith. Of the three recognized gods, two belonged to the pro-imperial camp. In that situation, if Constantina's faith alone maintained neutrality, it would stand isolated.
It is not... bad, but...
I let out a sigh without meaning to. It was good, yet the problem was that I myself would have to make all of it a reality.
Madness. For a report like this to come up on the very first day of the Council. I dreaded to imagine what kind of hell would unfold once the Ecumenical Council was fully concluded.
In a small prayer room deep within St. Togra Cathedral, I remained alone and offered prayer to our Lord.
I had no regrets about the choice to recognize the heresies. If one truly wished for the good of the Lord and the Church, this was the right path. To suppress and turn away from a god who had reappeared in such glorious fashion, to deny the existence of that which exists—that would not be good for the Church's future either. Just as we had done, others might also turn away from and deny our Lord.
Yes, this was right. If any other path were chosen, blood and tears would once more flow across the land as in the days of the Religious War, and screams and lamentations would fill the heavens.
Yes. That was how it would have been. It surely would have been.
...
"Lord, forgive not this sinner."
I confessed my heart toward the Lord. No matter how right this was, do not forgive me.
Do not forgive that a mere servant degraded the name of the one and only Lord, that I myself dismantled the glory our predecessors had built.
All the karmic burden must be mine to bear. The good and wise cardinals who followed my obstinacy bear no sin.
I prayed that this sincerity would reach the Lord. I prayed until the sun set, until darkness covered the sky, until the dawn broke once more.
"...Lord."
And when I raised my head and opened my eyes, the Lord's cross was shining.
I know your will.
Together with a voice too awe-inspiring for a mere creature to hear.