Chapter 41
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: The Successor from the Mountain Pass
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#
The light from the moon shone upon the signet ring of the lifeless Gallua. Roberta felt a sense of irony as she looked at the seal engraved on the ring. The man the crest symbolized had loved his own kind more than anyone, yet the ring's owner had hunted humans.
Roberta checked the corpse's pockets. She thought there might be other evidence, but there was nothing special, only a blood-soaked handkerchief and a single dagger.
The half-human, half-elf Gallua had died because a blade had pierced and ravaged his heart. But for some reason, the corpse wore a smile. Even though there was no way it could have been painless.
“You said it was the Pantheon's karma.”
Roberta asked Ulrich, who stood beside her. When she had asked about the culprit's motive, he had answered that it was karma.
“Roberta, there are still many sects within the Ecumenical Church.”
“Many. The name Pantheon isn't for nothing.”
It was because the Ecumenical Church had begun as a collection of numerous sects.
The Ecumenical Church, commonly called the Pantheon, was born alongside the Third Empire, the Yokester Dynasty. When the Second Empire, the Isturia Dynasty, fell, several feudal lords rose, and Yokester was one of them.
Unlike the dynasties of the previous two empires, Yokester could not rise on its own. It was thanks to the Cormillius clan extending a hand to them that they wore the imperial crown. The clan, descended from the first emperor, became their patrons and secured the agreement of the feudal lords, thus establishing the Yokester Dynasty.
At that time, Cormillius stepped onto the forefront of history, and with the Third Empire at their back, they held the first council. They gathered all the sects of the human world, and that was the beginning of the Ecumenical Church.
“It would be one thing if they believed in and followed a single, sole god. But the number of gods is too great. Not everyone can believe in the same god. The Pantheon attempted to unify them, but it was never going to be easy.”
Before the Ecumenical Church, it was said that each temple had different scriptures, or even if they were the same, the interpretations varied greatly. Even today, after the Pantheon established a canon, disputes over heresy still erupted between sects.
“Surely, you don't mean this man belonged to the Pantheon?”
Ulrich shook his head.
“No. He was on the side that rejected the council.”
“You mean he was a heretic.”
“By your standards, yes.”
She looked at him, her gaze filled with the question of what he meant.
“Do you know why Cormillius didn't take the throne themselves?”
Ulrich asked why a clan enjoying such lofty power would bother to hand the throne over to Yokester.
“I heard that at the time, the influence of Cormillius was less than it is now.”
Because after a long period of chaos, the minions of evil gods roamed free, and many groups scorned divinity.
“Wrong. Even in those days, divinity was not ignored. Rather, because it was chaotic, people clung to it even more. Cormillius simply couldn't monopolize it.”
Couldn't monopolize it?
“That sounds like you're saying there were other clans.”
“You heard correctly. There were several clans descended from the same progenitor.”
Her eyes widened.
“What?”
As always, this too was a secret history she was hearing for the first time.
She had received a high level of education, even among priests. On the recommendation of Bishop Alonso of the Nua Grand Temple, she had once been part of a higher institution called the Congregation of Doctrine.
The Congregation of Doctrine was filled with texts that even priests could not easily access. Although it primarily preserved human-centric literature, these were records that could not be obtained outside for any price.
Even she, who had been a part of such a place, had never heard or seen any story about families other than Cormillius inheriting divinity and surviving until that time. She had learned that only Cormillius was the legitimate line.
“Think about it. The progenitor of Cormillius ruled the empire for over a thousand years. How many descendants do you think there were? Even if they weren't as obsessed with bloodlines as Cormillius, there were still descendants who remembered their progenitor.”
When Roberta fell silent, Ulrich pointed to the signet ring.
“As I recall, the seal on that ring is the crest of a certain clan. No one knows it now, but they were the representatives of the group that cast a vote of opposition at the council convened by Cormillius. They were declared heretics for it.”
A battle erupted between the legitimate lines that inherited divinity, and as history tells it, Cormillius was victorious, and the other clans met their end, Ulrich said.
“Separatists, restorationists, sometimes minions of evil gods—they were given various names. Those who rejected the council and held on to their own interpretations were left without even a record. Cormillius saw to that.”
“It's... hard to believe. Not that I doubt you, it's just... so far removed from what I've learned.”
“It can't be helped. Even after studying at the Congregation of Doctrine, there are bound to be many things you don't know. It's a truth one cannot know unless they have sacred blood or their faith is acknowledged to the level of an inquisitor.”
Roberta gave a weak smile.
“Don't blindly trust the knowledge you gained from the Pantheon. The Pantheon doesn't release all knowledge. And not all truth is there; in fact, more is missing than present.”
Suddenly, she recalled the words of Bishop Alonso. He had said the same thing. He had said that while she would gain a great variety of knowledge at the Congregation of Doctrine, it wasn't the whole truth.
Had Alonso heard the same words from Ulrich when he was appointed as the head priest of Dithmarschen? It was possible, she thought.
A moment later, she broke the silence.
“······What was the reason for opposing the council?”
“Recall the theme of the first council.”
After tracing back her memories for a moment, her eyes trembled.
‘Elevating the human Hestio to the status of a divine being.’
When Cormillius first held the council, there wasn't just one topic. There were all sorts of topics, such as distinguishing between canon, apocrypha, and pseudepigrapha; uniting all the sects into one; and electing a Pope. Among them, the most important was the elevation of Hestio's existence.
“How can a mere human place another human on a celestial throne? That was their reason for opposition.”
Naturally, their argument was not accepted. And the objectors did not accept the council's decision either. They believed the third era created by the Pantheon was a vain and false empire, and saw the Ecumenical Church itself as flawed.
“But why does that lead to what happened here today?”
“As much blood has flowed as time has passed. The cause no longer matters. Two children who were brothers long ago are simply trying to kill each other over one thing.”
Ulrich let out a short breath. Roberta could read the deep fatigue contained within it. His expression was unchanged, but she, who had been by his side all this time, could tell.
#
Ulrich's party continued to search the village. They tried to find survivors, but there was no one left alive in hiding. There were only signs of being hunted by monsters. The monsters controlled by Gallua had shown no mercy.
Until the morning sun rose, they gathered the bodies and performed cremations. There weren't enough hands to bury them one by one, and fortunately, cremation was the common funeral practice in Osnover.
Ulrich explained that in the past, burial was the usual custom, but due to the influence of the ice peninsula, the dead would sometimes rise. He added that as a result of the long civil war, cremation had become established.
Roberta knelt before the flames and made a hand sign. Chanting a prayer, she hoped the villagers' sins in life would be forgiven, and that they would be sent to heaven from the seat of judgment after death.
“Roberta.”
As she finished her prayer and stood up, Ulrich called to her. She turned her head. Fritz, who was behind her, also looked at him. The dwarf Toruhel and the village survivor were on the opposite side of the bonfire.
“Do you remember what you said to me when we first met?”
She had asked, *Who are you?* She had heard he was a three-hundred-year-old man, but he was a young man who looked her age, and he had even undergone the Infant Sacrament. She couldn't help but be suspicious.
“Since then, while you've been with me, you must have heard many names. Are there any names among them that particularly stand out?”
Laurent, Oscar, Selim, she said. Laurent had saved the great king of the Kabonihar Kingdom and revived a fallen nation, Oscar had made a certain dragon take an interest in humans, and Selim had turned a desert into a jungle.
“I've used so many names. Most of them left behind extremely ordinary traces compared to the names you just mentioned. Leaving such large footprints is a very rare thing.”
“Still, you've left behind many footprints that others could not leave even one of in a lifetime.”
Ulrich continued, as if it were only natural.
“Let's make an assumption. Suppose you have a handful of seeds in your pocket. And as you walk, you drop or plant a seed on the ground every so often. If you check the next day, would anything be different?”
She flinched at the word "seed," but realizing it was just a metaphor, she let out a dry laugh. He was comparing fate or encounters to seeds. *What a terrible metaphor,* she thought to herself.
“···There wouldn't be.”
“And after a month?”
“A sprout would have appeared and grown a bit.”
“After a year, no, after a few years?”
“By then, wouldn't it have borne fruit a few times?”
“To me, names are like that.”
Roberta quietly met his gaze.
“Now, let's let an immense amount of time pass. Say you planted a seed in a land you were passing through without much thought, and then returned to that spot after millennia. What do you think would have become of it?”
“If you were lucky, it might have become a jungle.”
*Like Kuiania*, she added.
“If you were lucky, yes. Most are not like that. They just sprout, become a single tree, and firmly take root. But among them, there are cases where they become a forest. Like the names you mentioned a moment ago.”
Ulrich said he had often seen such cases. Because he had lived for a long time. An ordinary human cannot see the sight of a desert becoming a jungle. They turn to dust before a forest can even form.
“But seeing an old connection, which I compared to a seed, flourish to the point where you could call it a forest, isn't always a good thing. When they remember me, that connection exerts a very powerful force.”
Roberta understood what he was trying to say.
“Like Count Meyer?”
“Yes, Willem is a fitting example.”
Three hundred years ago, he had simply taken in children captured as slaves, along with Hilde Dithmarschen, as his adopted sons. Among these children was a boy named Hohenlohe.
He had not the slightest intention of making Hohenlohe's descendants serve him for generations. However, Hohenlohe, of his own accord, made his descendants serve Ulrich, and the current Count Meyer, Willem, was carrying on his will.
“It's not just the Meyers for me. I often witness the results of connections that others will never see in their lifetime. And each connection is not separate; they grow as if one forest extends to meet another. Just as Cormillius tempted Willem, they influence one another.”
Roberta understood what he was trying to say.
“I am here, and I do not change. But the way people see me and what they want from me are becoming something I cannot accept.”
How had she thought of him at their first meeting? She had considered him a liar or an impostor. And after a little time had passed, she had felt he was a strange person.
But Ulrich was Laurent, he was Oscar, he was Selim. As she learned of these names one by one, the way she saw him naturally changed, and it couldn't help but change.
His talk of forests meeting forests, of the influence between Cormillius and Willem, was about this change in perspective and expectations toward him.
No matter what he called himself, people would not care. Hadn't the Pantheon offered him the imperial crown, even though he refused it?
“Sometimes, I feel the weight of the past.”
It was just as he said. Because the past had piled up, he had become too great a person. So much so that the gap between how he saw himself and how others saw him could not be bridged.
Watching the scene of Gallua's signet ring melting in the flames, Roberta offered a short prayer in her heart.