Chapter 28
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: The Witch's Sacrament
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The matter was finally settled by early afternoon. Oksana Narces, the lord's second wife and a sorceress, had passed away in the dead of night, but the repercussions of her actions lingered.
Oksana had tried to turn the lord's daughter, Marika, into a young horse to be slaughtered, and in the process, several people had knowingly colluded with her. They had chosen the outwardly young and beloved second wife over the sickly Marika.
Of course, there had been resistance. Such was the case with Marika's attendants, who had vanished along with her. Lord Mathias had believed his daughter's disappearance to be a simple case of running away, so he paid little mind when her attendants vanished as well. He had assumed they had followed his wayward daughter to look after her. In reality, Oksana had killed them all.
When the full story came to light, Mathias was speechless. The incident had occurred while he was away for only a few days, yet he had failed to notice a thing. If Oksana had disposed of Marika immediately, like the other attendants, the truth would have never been revealed.
Why had she bothered to change Marika's form? Had she not thought to offer her as a tribute in a ritual, she would never have been caught.
“Perhaps… it was because Marika’s mother was an ascetic.”
Mathias revealed that Oksana had been rivals in love with his former wife. Because of this, Oksana had been unable to be with Mathias while his first wife was alive; they only came together after her death.
Roberta chided the lord for being so complacent. He might have hoped that affection would solidify their relationship, but look at the result.
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As they left Kir Castle, Fritz saw Marika, who had come out with the lord to see them off. The sixteen-year-old boy, it seemed, couldn't help but keep looking at the girl his age. The girl didn't seem to mind the attention, a faint smile gracing her pale face.
Ulrich watched the young pair for a moment before nodding to the lord. Mathias, clearly exhausted from a sleepless night, forced a smile and bowed deeply.
Leaving the farewells behind them, the three rode off on their horses.
Their next destination was Witten, the central city of County Meyer.
“……”
After riding for some time, once Kir Castle was no longer in sight, Fritz glanced at Roberta. Fritz was riding abreast of Ulrich, but she had fallen slightly behind.
She wasn't keeping her distance intentionally. Her head was slightly bowed, her gaze unfocused. She seemed lost in thought.
“You seem to have much on your mind, Roberta.”
Ulrich spoke without taking his eyes off the road ahead.
“Hm? Ah, yes… It’s hard not to. Even when I try to stop thinking about it.”
“It’s about the Council, isn’t it?”
She trailed off after answering, “Yes.”
The Council—in simple terms, a religious conference.
It is a gathering of ordained individuals to discuss a certain topic. However, a Council’s decisions are officially incorporated into doctrine, giving them extraordinary weight.
As far as Roberta knew, few Councils had been held since the Pantheon’s establishment, but each one had sent massive ripples through the world.
Elevating Hestio to the status of a divine being, compiling the scriptures, defining the first heresy—all were topics addressed by a Council.
Therefore, the very fact that a Council was being convened was a momentous event. It was absurd that she hadn't heard the news. But this time, the Council had been called by the Emperor, and its subject was a change in the right to elect the Pope.
“There once existed absolute beings we call gods, and the role of a priest is to connect their legacy to humanity. The highest of all priests is the Pope, and now they mean to change the standards by which he is chosen.”
An unbelievable turn of events, she muttered to herself.
Conflicts between secular rulers and the Pope had been frequent in the past. This was because the Pantheon had undermined its own authority through a series of blunders. The monarchs, as if they had been waiting for the chance, committed all sorts of outrages, from interfering with the appointment of clergy to plundering the temples’ assets.
Still, these could be considered mere aberrations. Excessive aberrations, perhaps, but at least the Emperor had stood with the Pantheon, declaring he would not tolerate any infringement upon divine authority.
But now, his position had changed—all without her knowledge.
“The inevitable has come to pass.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Think about it. What is the root of all these problems?”
It’s that the right to elect the Pope has been monopolized by a single family.
“Including the nomination of candidates.”
“Yes… Only those from the Cormillius family can become candidates for Pope, and after discussions within the family, one of the candidates is chosen.”
“In other words, the Ecumenical Church itself is practically the private organization of a single family.”
Roberta fell silent.
“When one family alone holds the highest authority in the world, who wouldn't be jealous? They’ve enjoyed this power for over a thousand years. In fact, it’s almost impressive that the complaints are only boiling over now.”
“……”
“And consider what they’ve done. They’ve replaced more than ten emperors for not suiting their tastes, raised the tithe to a fifth, and even sold indulgences. Yet no one dared to rebuke the Cormillius family. At most, they only criticized the Pantheon.”
How could that be?
Though creators undeniably exist, and priests serve them, a priest is still just a priest.
Their role is to connect gods and humans, not to act in the gods’ stead.
People are not fools. Not many will tolerate anything simply because it is done in the name of a god.
But as Ulrich said, the Cormillius family committed unforgivable acts and was forgiven for them. Until very recently.
“Tell me, Roberta. Why is that?”
“…Because the founder of the Cormillius family was the Emperor.”
She answered after a moment of hesitation.
“Correct. Because they believe they are the legitimate line of Hestio.”
The Emperor, meaning the first Emperor.
He was the man who, immediately after Hestio’s departure, founded the first human empire and ushered in the age of humanity.
According to the scriptures, he held the divinity of Hestio within him. There has been much debate over the phrase ‘held the divinity within him,’ but it is generally interpreted to mean he was Hestio’s biological child.
After all, despite being human, he reigned for over a thousand years.
If his blood wasn't mixed with that of other races, if he was purely human, what other reason could there be but the blood of Hestio flowing through his veins?
And if such a being is your ancestor?
It meant you inherited the blood of a god in a world created by gods.
That was the source of the power the Cormillius family enjoyed.
Who would dare criticize a clan that inherited the blood of a god?
“There was a time when beings called ‘gods’ watched over the earth from the heavens. And there was a human who lived in those heavens, whom his own kind revere as a god.”
“……”
“Now, some of his descendants claim to carry the purest line of their ancestor’s blood. If that were true, who would dare oppose them? If anyone were to refute it, only Hestio could.”
“However,” Ulrich added, continuing.
“Just how much time has passed?”
Roberta knew what he was going to say without hearing it.
The first empire was a history from more than five thousand years ago. The celestial gods left in an age so distant it can scarcely be measured, and they have not returned since. The same was true of Hestio. Only the minions of evil gods have repeatedly brought crisis.
“Do you believe the blood of such a distant ancestor could remain to this day? Could even a single drop still be flowing? Tell me your thoughts. Am I wrong?”
“I…”
She couldn’t bring herself to say that it didn’t remain.
Nor could she answer that it did. She was a priest. A priest's duty was to serve the celestial beings, not to blindly follow their descendants—or so she believed.
That was why she had earned a rather poor reputation as a common priest at Nua Cathedral, and why she had been criticized, told she would never have become a priest without Bishop Alonso’s protection.
Among all the priests she had met, Bishop Alonso was the only one who denied the sacred blood flowing in the veins of the Cormillius family.
After a long silence, she spoke again.
“…Many people believe that it remains.”
“That’s not your own thought. Yes, everyone thinks so.”
Ulrich continued with a light laugh.
“Because they have tried to avoid mixing their blood with anyone outside their own kin.”
He was ahead of her and didn’t even look back, but she felt his gaze upon her and lowered her head. It was an unsettling truth.
It was tolerated only because of the sacred name of Hestio. The fact that a clan was continuing its line through marriage between relatives was impossible to look upon favorably.
“Some revere the Cormillius family’s obstinacy, calling it a sacrifice to protect the divinity of the father who brought fire to humanity. Do you truly think so? Are their actions truly righteous?”
Once again, Roberta avoided answering.
“I do not. Hestio’s blood is nothing. There is no power that manifests only through that blood. One shouldn’t obsess over such trivial things. The celestial father and mother have departed, and in a world where only fragments of the order they established remain, humanity must find the will to stand on its own.”
She gasped. In front of a priest, there could be no greater blasphemy than this, save for cursing the gods themselves. Yet after her gasp, she had no particular reaction. She was merely surprised—no, even her surprise felt like an act, her heart remaining calm.
“Have you ever seen a true Cormillius?”
“I have seen His Holiness the Pope.”
“Marcello… that child is not pure by Cormillius standards. The ones who can bear that name and appear in public are nothing more than clowns meant to hide their true nature. You shouldn’t think of the Cormillius family based on him.”
She had heard this story before.
Bishop Alonso had told her.
“Even within the Cormillius family, those who have truly inherited Hestio’s blood cannot be met so easily. They are hidden away, as if they were some kind of treasure.”
That was the day Alonso had returned after being summoned to the Pantheon. He had been appointed bishop and said he had been granted an audience with a legitimate heir of the Cormillius line.
Back then, Roberta had asked what the one who inherited the sacred blood was like. In response, Alonso had simply smiled.
The memory was not clear, but for some reason, the smile in her recollection was a bitter one.
“Have you seen them, my lord?”
She asked Ulrich, snapping out of her reverie.
“Yes. Far too many times.”
The question of ‘how’ did not arise. It was Pope Marcello who had sent the common priest Roberta to Ulrich, the Lord of Dithmarschen, and he was a Cormillius.
The question was about his relationship with the Cormillius family. Who was this man, Ulrich, that he had seen those whom even Bishop Alonso had only seen once? And how many times must one see them to describe it as ‘many’?
She did not suspect him of lying or exaggerating. Reason still tempted her, whispering that there was not enough proof, but when had reason ever been right?
Roberta waited silently for Ulrich to continue.
And she could feel the weariness in his voice.
“Richard must have seen them too. He is my adopted son, after all. The Cormillius family wouldn't have left him alone.”
Though I don’t know about the Emperor, he muttered to himself.
“And you, too, will see them one day.”
She knew the reason without asking. The relationship between the Cormillius family and Ulrich was, even at a glance, profound. Just as they had done with Alonso, they would surely summon her one day.
As a human being, even before being a priest, meeting a legitimate heir of the great father was like a lifelong dream. But this time, too, she was calm.
The heart that would have once fluttered with excitement was now still.
She parted her dry lips and urged her horse forward, pulling up alongside Ulrich.