Sacred Honeymoon - 2
The scenery of Enestiye turned out better than I'd expected. I'd been bracing myself for the strict, solemn, deadly-serious atmosphere of a city that had maxed out its religious specialization, but then I remembered—Rome and the Vatican back in the world before my transmigration had been packed with tourists too. No need to worry after all.
This is what sightseeing is for.
Even a total layman with zero architectural knowledge couldn't help but admire the cathedrals. There were memorial sites steeped in the legends of saints and renowned priests, multicultural quarters born from the faithful who had settled here from every corner of the continent—the whole city felt like one vast museum.
On top of that, the public safety, cleanliness, and prices were so perfect they might as well have been blessings from Enen Himself. Being the heart of the Dawn Church, any real problem here would trash the Church's entire image. You could feel how hard they gritted their teeth and kept the place under control.
A tourist city without tourist prices.
My chest swelled of its own accord. A tourist destination without gouging little bastards who fleece the visitors? That was like a barracks without hazing, or a journalist who only told the truth—something that only existed in fantasy.
As expected of a holy land. They really were different. They had taken a dream-like illusion and made it real.
"Shall we head over there next?"
Arm in arm with Trixie as we wandered, I pointed toward a tower that radiated an extravagant presence even from a distance.
Honestly, it had been bothering me ever since we entered the Holy Kingdom. Stuck out on the city outskirts, it still towered higher than anything else in Enestiye—even higher than St. Togra Cathedral, the very heart of the capital.
In a way the thing was almost blasphemous, and that only made it more interesting. How had such an impious tower ever been allowed to rise in Enestiye?
"Yes. I rather want to see Enestiye from high above as well."
Trixie nodded readily, clearly pleased with the suggestion.
For a mage like her it was only natural. Even I, an ordinary person, found the tower intriguing—how much more so a mage whose entire life was research and exploration? If I hadn't spoken up, she probably would have suggested it first.
"Even in the Imperial Capital the only building that tall is the Magic Tower."
"When you put it that way it's even stranger. A Magic Tower of the Holy Kingdom?"
At Trixie's murmur I looked up at the tower again.
Calling that thing a Magic Tower felt wrong. Holy Tower might be more accurate.
The moment I showed the Pope's silver plaque, the administrator at the entrance launched into a respectful explanation.
"This tower was raised immediately after the Religious War by holy knights and priests who had survived the fiercest battlefields, joined by faithful who gathered of their own free will. They fought for the Lord's glory and true faith, yet they built it as atonement—for the blood they shed as clergy, and for the comrades they could not save."
The more I listened, the more solemn I felt. Even the name Holy Tower fell short of describing it.
"They raised it, they say, with the desire to reach the comrades who had already ascended to heaven, and with the yearning to draw even a little closer to the Lord's mercy. Depending on interpretation it could have been condemned as blasphemy, but the Holy Father of that era granted his permission, and so the tower stands today."
"How fortunate."
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
And it really was fortunate. The builders had pure intentions and the Pope had looked on them kindly; otherwise someone could easily have read this as a Tower of Babel. A Tower of Babel erected by war veterans in the very heart of the Church? The Pope could have dropped a full excommunication beam and no one would have blinked.
"As Your Excellency says, it is fortunate indeed. Thanks to that Holy Father's merciful decision, this tower—Enestiye's pride—exists today."
The administrator gave a small laugh and gazed up at the tower with warm eyes, as if taking pride in being responsible for it.
And it was a tower worth taking pride in. You could see it as a monument to the Dawn Church's victory in the Religious War, as a vow that the Church would never again stain its hands with blood, or as a tomb for the martyrs who had fallen.
"Today each floor houses research chambers for priests. There they study theology and chart the proper course the Church must take. Some of our retired seniors even run bookshops and cafés, so I hope you enjoy your visit."
Strange. I had just received a tourist briefing, yet suddenly I no longer wanted to go inside. Anyone who could smile and tour the place after hearing that explanation would have to be heartless—
"Karl, shall we head to the top first?"
"Let's."
On second thought, I had gotten too sentimental.
When you visit a tourist spot, the right thing is to see and experience it yourself. After the administrator had gone to all that trouble explaining, that was the least we could do.
Looking down upon everything from the highest place. For ordinary people it would be the sort of moment that fills the chest and sets the heart racing—but not for me.
More precisely, I could no longer feel that way. I had already spent nearly a hundred years as master of the towering Magic Tower, gazing down every day upon the Imperial Capital, the most prosperous city on the continent. Looking down on another city now was merely novel; it no longer made my heart pound.
Even so, the reason I climbed this Holy Tower was simple. A view shared with Karl would remain unforgettable for a lifetime. Even for someone as steeped in boredom as I, it would be a powerful stimulus.
Of course the view from the Magic Tower's summit would look much the same, but a vista from your workplace and a vista from a tourist destination simply feel different.
"Hm?"
While we gazed out over Enestiye, Karl tilted his head.
"What is it?"
"That down there—that's St. Togra Cathedral, right?"
I followed his pointing finger and, yes, there was St. Togra Cathedral.
"Huh?"
I tilted my head the same way he had.
Why… is it glowing?
The cathedral was shining.
Yet the light felt… wrong somehow. Different from the cross that had shone at Mar's wedding, different from the light we had seen when the World Tree was revived.
The entire cathedral wasn't glowing, either. Light leaked irregularly through the windows set into the building.
"Don't tell me they're fighting?"
Karl muttered the question in complete seriousness, and I couldn't help laughing.
The cardinals had argued fiercely yesterday, but surely they wouldn't start exchanging holy arts in the middle of an Ecumenical Council. That would be like mages hurling spells at each other the moment a debate got heated…
Are they actually fighting?
A faint memory surfaced and my laughter died.
Mages would resort to magic the moment things turned sour; there was no law saying priests were any different.
"Let's go back down."
"Ah—yes."
In the end I abandoned the thought and fled.
Noble affairs for nobles, priestly affairs for priests.
It is never wise for the secular world to take too deep an interest in the Church's business.
There had been a small disturbance, but the Holy Tower tour itself was fascinating. As the tallest building in Enestiye its interior was vast, and that vast space was filled without a single wasted inch.
Especially the priests' research chambers the administrator had mentioned—they were overwhelming in number. Walking through an unfamiliar building, I caught the familiar scent of the Magic Tower.
Peeking would be rude.
I quickly brushed aside the sudden urge.
The silver plaque Karl carried marked its bearer as a personage on par with the Pope. In other words, even research chambers where the Church's future was debated, Karl had every right to enter.
But having the right and actually exercising it were two different matters. Causing mutual awkwardness out of private curiosity would be uncomfortable.
"I see not every clergyman is the solemn type."
"Whatever the profession, we're all just people."
And just then something far more interesting than any research chamber caught our eye.
The One-Sided Life Advice Café of an Old Man Whose Final Rank Was Archbishop
A sign that made the mind reel just from reading it—and at the same time sent an inexplicable surge of curiosity shooting up—had entered our field of vision.
"Some of our retired seniors even run bookshops and cafés, so I hope you enjoy your visit."
I felt a little resentful toward the administrator. He shouldn't have simply said there were cafés; he should have specified that this kind of café existed. We had almost missed such an eccentric place.
"…Shall we go in?"
"Yes."
At Karl's slightly dazed voice I nodded as if under a spell myself.
A merchant's first job is to snag the customer's aggro.
It felt a little rude to call someone who had risen all the way to archbishop and then honorably retired a mere merchant, but the man had chosen of his own free will to open this bizarre café. I trusted he would understand.
In that sense, the former archbishop was an outstanding aggro specialist. A tourist faithful enough to travel all the way to the Holy Kingdom—and up this Holy Tower—sees a sign like that? Instant wallet open, demanding every scrap of life advice available. An archbishop's counsel is simply irresistible.
"Hah… well now."
Yet the moment we walked in as if entranced, the former archbishop's face clouded with difficulty.
"I was certain I put 'an old man's advice' on the sign…"
As he dragged out the end of his sentence I instinctively guessed the rest. He had never expected a guest older than himself to walk in seeking advice.
Naturally I didn't bother saying that alou—
"Handing out advice to five people is a bit much, don't you think? Have some consideration for an old man's stamina."
?
"Pardon?"
The words were so hard to parse that the question popped out of me on its own. Advice to five people—what on earth did that mean? Did he only accept a fixed number of customers per day?
Seeing our blank incomprehension, the archbishop let out a short snort of laughter and shook his head.
"Five walked in, but only two are visible."
At that, Trixie—who had been blinking in a daze—hurriedly approached the archbishop.
"Just now—what you said just now—could you explain it in more detail?"
And she said it while already pulling out a whole handful of silver coins.
"Put those away. I have no intention of accepting silver."
"Th-then gold coins…"
"I meant copper would be more than enough."
The spectacle of a customer trying to overpay and an owner trying to undercharge was oddly impressive.
No—more importantly, what exactly did she think she was buying that she was throwing money first? Even the coolest of deals didn't usually go this smoothly.