Chapter 9: Hard Work Pays Off
With a loud crash, the glassware on the desk tumbled to the ground, shattering into crystal-clear fragments. Several thick books were also swept aside by the owner’s forceful motion. The usually rosy cheeks turned ashen, and the old man’s silver hair seemed to stand slightly on end due to his emotional state, appearing somewhat disheveled.
Mardan had opened its ports! What did that mean?! Even a fool could see what those people in the southern part of theMing Sea Sea had been up to. Philip had already been in a bad mood, and he was surprised to find that ever since he exiled that wastrel to the Caucasus, a series of misfortunes had followed.
Those old fools in the kingdom’s center actually regarded such a good-for-nothing as a treasure, thinking they could use him to oppose them. He hadn’t paid much attention to this matter at first, but everything changed after that guy did something astonishing—accepting over a hundred thousand refugees. The kingdom took this very seriously and kept putting pressure on him. Although he managed to withstand the pressure and strictly sealed off the supply routes to the Caucasus, his measures seemed to have no effect. He had expected a food and financial crisis in the Caucasus within two or three months at most, but so far, there were no signs of it.
Now everything was clear—it was that old scoundrel Gott who was behind this. Though he didn’t know what promise that guy had made to make Gott change his stance, it was obvious that Gott’s group no longer had any control over them. The news of Mardan opening its ports spread throughout the Homer region and neighboring coastal areas in just a few days. For the Caucasus, the blockade of Bruce Fortress became worthless, and the trading status of Cyprus and Odessa would now be challenged by Mardan. The various consequences were countless, leaving Philip feeling extremely frustrated.
“Father, I’ve long advised you not to be too merciful. If you hesitate when you should act, chaos will ensue. Now that things have come to this, even if we try to deal with him, it will likely be difficult.” The girl standing beside him played indifferently with a silk fan in her hand. It was a handicraft from the southern elf race, said to originate from a lost civilization. Exquisitely crafted, it was too precious for ordinary people to even ask about, yet it was popular among nobles and wealthy merchants as a symbol of status.
Glancing at his daughter, whose temperament was now nothing like that of when she was young, Philip felt an inexplicable sense of irritation and disgust. Perhaps sending her to the Caucasus had been a mistake, and listening to his daughter’s advice had been his greatest error. If it weren’t for her, why would he risk losing an excellent treasurer and alienating himself from the Lethar family? Although Ramla showed no unusual reaction for now, Philip knew that once a grievance arose, it would be extremely difficult to resolve.
Everything was going wrong—that’s how Philip felt. Aside from the troublesome Caucasus issue, the kingdom’s actions were also suspicious. The orcs hadn’t made any major moves this year, yet the kingdom continued to expand its standing army. The Blue Dove Legion had officially received orders to be formed, and the process was underway in an orderly manner. Of course, the pretext was the threat posed by the orcs, but given the kingdom’s strained finances and the fact that the Iron Cross Legion had already stationed itself in the western fortresses, continuing to expand the standing army raised doubts.
Faced with increasingly tense relations with the kingdom’s central government, Philip naturally wondered if they intended to enforce the Utrecht Edict. The edict had been in place for several years, but aside from beingbarely implemented among some small lords around the kingdom’s direct territories, it was practically meaningless in both the north and the south. Philip wasn’t sure whether the central government was truly determined to resolve the issue even at the cost of force or was merely trying to intimidate. He hoped it was the latter. Although he had secret agreements with several major lords, he still didn’t want to see that scenario unfold. After all, the Kingdom of Nicomedia had a history of hundreds of years, with deep-rooted traditions and a strong sense of royal legitimacy. Openly defying them would carry great risks.
But was the kingdom allocating funds to the military despite its financial difficulties just to intimidate? Upon reflection, Philip grew uneasy again. At least things hadn’t worsened to that point yet, and there was still hope. As long as the Blue Dove Legion wasn’t fully formed, the kingdom wouldn’t take any further action, leaving many opportunities for negotiation.
There was more to worry about. That fool of Poninsky was becoming increasingly unpopular in Leon, with slave revolts and escapes becoming more frequent and larger in scale. It was said that large numbers of half-orc slaves had fled into the Caucasus through the Votka Mountains, yet so far, there had been no reports of any escaped slaves being captured there. This made Philip even more concerned about the situation in Leon. Complaints against Poninsky had not only been submitted to Homer but also to the Kingdom’s Privy Court, which had received a large amount of related information. If it weren’t for Poninsky’s fairly consistent tributes over the years, Philip would have handed him over to the Privy Court long ago. Losing a count’s title wasn’t a big deal; having a more obedient lord in his place would be just as good. Should he consider this suggestion?
Seeing that her father seemed not to hear her words and was instead gazing out the window, the girl grew annoyed. But she knew her father was indeed in a bad mood at the moment. It would be unwise to provoke him further at such a time. She could only stand quietly aside, waiting for him to emerge from his thoughts.
“Tracy, when exactly do you plan to arrange your marriage to Prince Hoffman?”
Even the girl didn’t expect her father to suddenly bring up a topic unrelated to what she had just said. She became panicked, as if struck by fear. Had her father discovered something wrong?
Struggling to calm herself, she gracefully raised her hand to push aside a strand of hair covering her face. Her rosy lips curved slightly, forming a beautiful line. “Father, am I that old already? Why are you so eager for me to get married? Hoffman isn’t much older either. Right now, the kingdom is facing invasions from the northern orcs, and the king and queen don’t have much time to deal with such matters. I think we should wait until the situation stabilizes before discussing this.”
“Hmph, Tracy, keep an eye on Hoffman. We’ve invested a lot in him. If everything goes wrong, it will be a joke for the kingdom! No woman in the kingdom’s history has ever had her marriage annulled. I don’t want that to happen to our family!” A cold gaze swept over the girl’s cheeks, turning her rosy face pale.
Her mouth felt a bit bitter. Tracy didn’t know how to answer her father’s question for a moment. It seemed her father had heard some rumors; perhaps he wasn’t aware of the whole situation. If he found out that her relationship with Hoffman had progressed to this extent, who knew what he would think?
“Father, rest assured. Hoffman will come to Cyprus in a while, and I’ll remind him,” Tracy said, her heart trembling, though her expression returned to normal shortly after. How important she was in Hoffman’s eyes—only heaven knew. But at this moment, she dared not say anything. She could only take things one step at a time.
A skeptical look swept over his daughter’s face, but nothing unusual could be seen. Philip grunted heavily and said nothing more. Tracy was an important pawn for him in his dealings with the royal family. Hoffman, as one of the top heirs, not only had a strong claim to the throne but also came from a powerful maternal family. If they married, it wasn’t impossible for him to ascend to the throne. Yet Hoffman wasn’t easy to deal with either. Although Tracy was beautiful, relying on that alone to attract him might work for fun, but securing a marriage agreement would be difficult. He had put in a lot of effort to arrange this marriage. If it was called off, he would lose both his daughter and his influence, and it would also cause irreparable damage to the Philip family’s reputation.
Another awkward silence filled the room. Philip continued to ponder these troubles, while Tracy tried to bring the conversation back to Komer. But in her urgency, she couldn’t speak right away. Her father’s suspicion didn’t seem to fade, so she needed to wait for the right moment.
“Tracy, you should take the time to visit the Caucasus for me and see what’s going on there. The news coming from there these days is hard to believe. How could Komer become so successful in just half a year? The once remote and desolate Caucasus is now in the spotlight. Was Komer pretending to be weak all along, or was he hiding his true abilities? I’m confused.” Letting out a long sigh, Duke Philip said thoughtfully, “Perhaps I really misjudged things back then, leading to this situation.”
The girl was shocked and looked up in surprise. “Father, what do you plan to do? Is it too late to turn back now?”
With a gloomy expression, Philip remained motionless. “Turn back? Sometimes, even if you want to, it’s impossible. From the moment he was banished from Cyprus, there might not have been a way back. But now he’s not in a position to control the situation. I just want to see exactly what skills this guy has that allow him to bring life to this dead end region of the Caucasus. And I heard he can move in and out of Damansk Fortress freely—does that mean the prophecy of the ‘natural desolate land’ over the past century doesn’t apply to him?”
The envoy from the Great Secret Sect once again put Komer in a dilemma. From Reby’s words, Komer already knew something about the origins of this sect—a branch of the Dark Holy Church that had managed to grow so far in the south. It seemed the doctrines of the Dark Holy Church weren’t as unacceptable as he had thought. From what the other party said, it was clear they saw the Caucasus as a fertile ground for spreading their faith. It seemed likely that the Light Church would also extend its influence here in the near future, which posed a significant challenge for Komer.
Through the window, Komer’s gaze swept over the lush green lands. Early summer in the Caucasus had arrived quietly. Half a year had passed in the blink of an eye, and Komer realized he had been in the Caucasus for quite some time without even realizing it. All the trials and hardships over those six months had transformed him from a seemingly clueless vagabond into who he was today. Sometimes he found it hard to believe, but he had indeed made it through.
It seemed the Light Church intended to outlast him. Those two Rema knights never stopped tracking and monitoring him. However, due to his status, they couldn’t take more aggressive actions against him. Fortunately, he had already adapted to their tactics. Perhaps one day, without them, he would even feel uncomfortable. After he outright rejected their demand to ban foreign religions from preaching here, they settled for asking him to suppress the Great Secret Sect—a request that was hard to refuse.
Although the entire Kingdom of Nicosia maintained a tolerant attitude toward various religious sects, it seemed to have no tolerance for those claiming to follow dark evil gods. Though there were no explicit legal provisions, the kingdom’s history over nearly a century indicated that no dark sect dared to openly preach or spread its beliefs within its borders. However, practitioners of dark magic seemed to appear in some areas of the kingdom without strict restrictions. It was this semi-open atmosphere that made the Kingdom of Nicosia the most tolerant in terms of religious freedom on the Land of Azure. Of course, the flourishing of various sects in this land was based on compliance with the kingdom’s laws and non-interference in its internal affairs.
With a deep sigh, Komer felt as though he was being pushed step by step down this path—should he choose the path of a lord or that of a dark mage? He was momentarily unable to decide. Rebrí and his companions finally arrived with a friend skilled in mechanical engineering, and they seemed very excited, seemingly ready to make a big impact at Damorlensk Castle. The Rema knights also noticed these people and appeared around the castle from time to time. If not for their knightly oaths, they might have already entered the castle to meet Rebrí’s friends.
The emerging signs of sectarian strife in the territory also made Komer realize the difficulties of being a ruler. The dominance of the Light Church certainly did not align with Komer’s intentions, but allowing dark sects to appear openly would also cause a great uproar. The best approach was to let certain sects, which were neither part of the Light Church nor violated the kingdom’s prohibitions, take root in the Caucasus. This way, they could preempt the Light Church’s ambitions and lay the foundation for healthy competition among sects in the future. As for dark sects, despite his inner support for them, he could only proceed cautiously. Ugru, located at the heart of the territory, was definitely unsuitable, but Matdan or Bahomon might be good choices.
The temple of Artemis, the goddess of hunting, believed in by some mortals and most orcs, was soon established first by a minor sect in Ugru. This marked the first appearance of religious forces in the Caucasus. Komer knew such things would come sooner or later, and rather than passively restrict them, it was better to take active control—this was Komer’s attitude toward these matters whose advantages and disadvantages were difficult to determine for his rule. Soon after, temples dedicated to the nature goddess Minto, built by elves who worshipped her, were also completed. Some fanatical orcs chose Mars, the god of war. Although his temple was not large, most of his followers came from Komer’s lord’s guard, who believed that worshiping Mars would grant them more blessings in battles to protect their lord’s safety and interests. Komer could foresee that before long, sects from all over the continent would establish themselves here, including the Church of Light.
In the Marco Periclean Cathedral, sunlight filtered through the colorful stained glass on the dome, creating a rainbow of light in the air that shone directly on the altar. The ever-changing columns of light swirling deep in the hall appeared somewhat mystical. The Periclean Cathedral followed the requirements of the famous Council of Trent of the Church of Light, built in a Latin cross basilica style. The windows around it were all enclosed, serving as places for important figures to atone and confess, while the central nave became a sacred space for ordinary believers. Smoke curled around the altar, candlelight flickered, and the God of Light, nailed in the center of the cross, had his arms outstretched in a embracing pose. His muscular chest appeared especially magnificent under the light and shadow, and his proud and unrestrained head was raised high, exuding an air of dominance that made one fully aware of this deity’s supreme status. The seven-string harp slanted behind him seemed to play heavenly music to enlighten the world, evoking thoughts of one’s own sins and gratitude to the gods.
Another glowing aura rising was not from the sunlight in the sky but emanated from the thin old man sitting in the large chair beside the altar. The shifting light and shadow complemented those on the altar, making it hard for ordinary people to believe they came from a single person. Perhaps in their eyes, only the supreme gods could produce such unpredictable phenomena. This was the messenger of the God of Light, the bishop of the Periclean Cathedral and archbishop of the entire diocese, Fremst.
As the light and shadow gradually faded, only those who approached could clearly see the face of the person sitting in the chair.
“Archbishop, Lord Kent, the head of the Rema Knights, requests an audience.”
“Oh, ask him in.” The thin old man seated in the large chair slowly opened his eyes. The world was so peaceful, yet there were still countless mundane matters to deal with. Wasn’t this a desecration and insult to one’s faith? Fremst didn’t know whether this was right or wrong; perhaps only when he reached heaven would he understand the path he had been pursuing—eternal life through the flames of the lotus. With a clear mind, such an odd thought suddenly arose in his heart.
Kent’s serious expression told Fremst that this would be another unpleasant conversation. Only when faced with tough problems would the fearless leader of the Rema Knights show such an expression, which displeased Fremst greatly. His rare good mood might end here, but if he didn’t take on this responsibility, who else could?
“Kent greets the Archbishop!” Following strict knightly etiquette, Kent stepped forward confidently, placing a hand over his heart in a respectful bow.
“Mr. Kent, please sit here.” A faint smile was etched deeply into Kent’s peaceful heart like a seal. Its ethereal purity added another layer to Kent’s already strong admiration. Facing this archbishop who might become the next pope, Kent could only feel respect.
A gentleman can be deceived in a clever way. Fremst extended the spiritual cleansing he had just completed to Kent, immediately seeing results. Satisfied, Fremst asked, “Mr. Kent, are there any new discoveries?”
“Archbishop, there indeed are some new things to report. Knights Green and Jep continued their surveillance mission in the Caucasus region of the Kingdom of Nicosia and discovered many suspicious individuals there. They suspect some of them to be dark mages. Their latest report says that Knight Jep had a confrontation with a member of the Secret Cult, but unfortunately, the other party escaped.”
“Have those two knights made any progress in monitoring our target?” After a moment of thought, the calm light in the thin old man’s eyes shone clearly.
“I’m sorry, but so far there have been no discoveries. Due to the target’s special identity, Green and the others can’t use other methods and can only persist in surveillance and investigation. However, the opponent is very cunning and cautious, rarely giving Green and Jep any opportunities to get closer to them.” Shaking his head, Kent didn’t hide anything from the archbishop.
“What exactly caused those including dark practitioners to gather in the Caucasus? Could it be people hidden among the residents of the Principality of Melun or the city-state of Main?” Freust wanted to understand this question.
“No, they must have come from elsewhere. It is said they went to Fort Damorlensk on the invitation of that lord to explore. Most of them arrived in the Caucasus as adventurers. Based on the analysis of the two knights’ investigations, they believe a considerable number of these people have more or less dark inclinations. Therefore, they suspect the target is also practicing dark magic and think special measures can be taken to deal with him.” Captain Kent finally expressed his opinion. He wasn’t willing to have his two trusted subordinates carry out this task endlessly. In his view, if it could be confirmed that the person was indeed the target, it would be sufficient to order the two knights to capture him and bring him to Marko. Although this man was considered a local lord in the Caucasus, Kent believed his two subordinates had the ability to complete the task without alerting others.
Shaking his head slightly, Freust’s gaunt cheeks showed a cautious expression. “Kent, you underestimate this man too much. If we suspect that Melun likely died at his hands, do you still think he’s that easy to deal with? Moreover, he now has some unknown magicians with him.”
“What?!” Even after going through so much, Kent was shocked by these words from the archbishop and stood up, asking in a somewhat flustered manner, “Archbishop, are you saying Mage Melun died at his hands? But the church announced that he died from a backlash after failing to control his magic.”
“That was just a smokescreen for political reasons.” Freust noticed the obvious displeasure in the other man’s reaction to his words and smiled inwardly. It seemed Captain Kent still hadn’t accepted the fact that the church was involved in political affairs. But that was reality—unless the church could gain leverage in dealing with secular governments, it would find it difficult to spread its influence in the region.
“Actually, both Onia and I doubt that this matter is related to this Caucasian lord. We still haven’t found any evidence. Just like during that mission you carried out, this man is quite good at handling such situations. Another issue is that we can’t determine his motive for killing Malon, which is why we’ve been hesitant to make a decision.” An indescribably complex expression appeared on his rosy cheeks. “Sometimes I’m not even sure if my decision is correct. But now, this man’s status is extraordinary. Although he’s just a minor lord in a remote area, his position in the Kingdom of Nicomedia is quite special. We can’t be careless.”
Kent wasn’t quite sure what the archbishop meant by “special,” but he vaguely sensed it might be related to internal political power struggles in the Kingdom of Nicomedia. He didn’t want to get involved in matters that had nothing to do with him. “So, what does the archbishop mean…? By the way, my two subordinates also noticed that this lord seems not very interested in spreading the teachings. He adopts a more lenient missionary policy than in the Homer region, allowing many small sects to take advantage of this to expand there. However, no members of the Great Secret Sect have been found establishing a foothold there yet.”
“Hmm, this development is worth paying attention to. I’ll send a letter to Hesetins, the archbishop of the Nicomedia diocese, and Tullado, the bishop of the Homer region, asking them to keep an eye on the situation there. Our Church of Light has never been willing to lag behind in missionary work, especially not within the Kingdom of Nicomedia. But I still need to remind Captain Kent to ensure that knights Green and Jep complete the tasks assigned to them. Although we can’t take action now due to lack of evidence and the circumstances, if there’s conclusive proof that this lord is a true dark mage, especially a necromancer, then no matter who he is, we must act decisively. Of course, we need to inform me first before taking action so that we can coordinate. Besides, our action doesn’t necessarily have to result in his death. As long as he’s willing to turn to goodness, the doors of our Church of Light are always open to those who have strayed and seek redemption.”
Archbishop Frenst’s words were filled with justice and solemnity, touching the heart of Commander Kent like the sounds of evening drums and morning bells. Even Kent himself couldn’t understand why he was so easily moved at this moment. Perhaps it was the special environment and atmosphere here that made it easier for a knight devoted to the Light Church to merge with the God of Light. He naturally had no idea that the archbishop before him was once again using a spiritual cleansing ritual, supplemented by the voice of the Holy Spirit, to deepen the loyalty of this holy knight who was somewhat dissatisfied with the church’s involvement in secular power struggles.
With Kent’s departure, the main hall of the Periclean Cathedral fell back into serene quietness. Sitting in his chair, Frenst quietly savored this moment of peace. Life was like a game of chess—not every move could be controlled by one’s own hands. But as long as one could predict the trends and take control of the overall situation, that was sufficient. Perfection lay in imperfection; one had to make choices—only by giving up could one gain something. Not everyone understood this.
Delicate fingers, slender like a woman’s, tapped gently on the armrest of the chair. Only in such solitude could Frenst let go of everything. The gloom and worry on his face reappeared. None of this mattered now. From the WestBrahma Palace, less than five miles away from the Periclean Cathedral, the sound of bells could be heard—this was an honor reserved solely for the Pope. Only the Pope could use the sacred Golden Bells. Their deep tones might not seem extraordinary, but they could be heard from a distance of a hundred miles. Perhaps this was the ultimate pursuit of every archbishop.
Thinking of this, Frenst couldn’t help but laugh silently. Since when had he begun to analyze himself so deeply? Saints seemed to have become mere legends. A person without desires might find it difficult to survive even within the Light Church. Subconsciously, he licked his lower lip. His gaze swept over the rows of simple, dark wooden benches in the hall. Frenst stood up and slowly walked toward the entrance of the hall. Golden sunlight shone brightly on the square outside the cathedral. The buildings on either side of the square stood tall and imposing, creating a magnificent scene against the blue sky and the blazing sunlight. Water from the fountain in the center of the square sprang high into the air, sparkling. A few pigeons, startled, took to the air, contrasting with the solemn, ancient buildings—movement and stillness, light and shadow, harmony and unity all gathered in one place.
It seemed as though an unimaginable miracle had also occurred to the Pope’s body, allowing him to persevere to this point without falling. Frenster simply couldn’t believe it, but it was indeed the case. With all his ambitions, he could only swallow them back; everything still required waiting and patience. Those madmen in the tribunal seemed to have sensed something as well—Noyora was acting unusually active. Did he also want to join this struggle, or was he unwilling to let this position fall into his hands? At that moment, Qingming’s serene gaze became somewhat unfocused. The soft sound of the staff hitting the ground snapped the lost archbishop out of his daze. He cursed inwardly—how could he harbor such thoughts at a time like this? Had decades of struggle turned him timid in the end? If the soul was already tainted by worldly dust, there was no need to pretend to be holy; returning to its true nature might still be a good choice.