While this knight, cradling his helmet and kneeling on one knee, furiously demanded an all-out war over the desecration of God's domain by the Arcane Council, the other Cardinals in the Great Hall of Light traced crosses over their chests and cried out in unison: "We shall purify those wicked Archanists with Sacred Light and make them prostrate at the Lord's feet in repentance! How can God's domain be explored by mere mortals!"
Seeing the Pope—clutching a platinum scepter and wearing the Sacred Crown—standing with a face as dark as still water, utterly silent, the leader of the ascetic monks, Valenshir, stepped forward. Dressed in a plain linen tunic, he said: "Your Holiness, Knight Stone's plea represents all the devout faithful. Their fury stems from the desecration suffered by the Lord. Rest assured, the heretics in the north will not seize this opportunity to attack—unless they have already abandoned their faith and betrayed the Truth, in which case their very foundation would crumble. I would even argue that they, too, would rage and attack the Arcane Council."
Valenshir was barefoot, with short golden hair and a gaunt face dominated by unusually keen blue eyes.
Under Valenshir's lead, over a dozen Cardinals stationed in the Holy City, three great figures of the Tribunal, and the epic knights including Stone once again implored in unison: "Your Holiness, please issue the command to launch the Second Dawn War and conscript all forces to crusade against the Arcane Council—leaving only the nobles who guard the Dark Mountains."
Pope Benedict II raised the Staff of Radiance in his hand. His voice was aged, yet it seemed to contain the vastness of an entire world: "I am well satisfied with your devotion to the Lord, and I have felt the joy He has bestowed. But I must ask you—is your faith in the Lord truly so fragile? Are you truly worried that the Arcane Council might uncover the mysteries of the divine?"
"Mortals can never touch the domain of God! Have you forgotten the Lord's teachings?"
His crimson mantle billowed as though caught in a wind, and a vast, sacred aura of Radiance surged forth—omnipresent yet unknowable, unfathomable.
Confronted by the Pope's questioning, every Cardinal in the Great Hall of Light fell silent, deeply reflecting on the thoughts and emotional currents within their hearts. Beyond the anger born of the Lord's desecration and the reflexive response of their own faith, there was indeed a substantial undercurrent of fear—fear that the Arcane Council might, just as it had explored the world before, research its way to the mysteries of the divine. And so they wanted to stop it, wanted to smother that terrifying possibility in its cradle!
"If I say I am without sin, I deceive myself, and the Truth is obscured by ignorance. I confess my sins—the Lord is just, He is merciful, and He shall forgive me and cleanse me of all my iniquity." After a brief silence, the Cardinals began to confess one after another.
Benedict II listened to their confessions calmly before speaking: "The Arcane Council's explorations can never approach the domain of God, but their blasphemy remains unforgivable. Valenshir, Bahaura—select a portion of the ascetic monks and the Night Watch to go to the Holm Kingdom and assist Filibel in hunting down the Archanists and judging their crimes."
"Simultaneously, coordinate with some of the elves and druids within the Strump Forest to create the illusion that we are about to launch an attack, giving them an excuse to recall the druids cooperating with the Arcane Council."
"As you command, Your Holiness." Bahaura the "Adjudicator," one of the three great figures of the Tribunal, and Valenshir, leader of the ascetic monks, bowed in unison.
The other Cardinals felt both that the Pope's orders were appropriate and that a strange sensation had arisen within them—something that could have triggered an all-out war and shattered the fragile balance of the entire continent had instead been reduced to a mere incident of blasphemy.
"Just as well. Though we possess the greatest strength, we are restrained by the coalition. To rush into war without preparation might yield consequences we cannot bear. It is better to continue waiting for an opportunity when we are certain." The Cardinals' thoughts shifted as they traced crosses over their chests and withdrew from the Great Hall of Light.
Pope Benedict II lowered the raised scepter and returned to his study. A cardinal in red who had been waiting there asked: "Your Holiness, among the intelligence Cardinal Filibel sent over this time, besides the news of the Arcane Council and the druids jointly researching Divine Arts, there are also the latest developments regarding the Holm Crown Award and other matters."
"Archive and file that intelligence away for future reference. At present, the most pressing matter is dealing with this act of blasphemy." Benedict II waved his hand dismissively regarding the other "trivial matters."
This wasn't a purification decree that needed to be disseminated to every diocese and every branch of the Tribunal.
After the cardinal in red departed and the study door was closed, the Pope gazed with calm eyes at the oil paintings of successive Popes hanging on the wall.
Beneath each painting was inscribed the name of each Pope and the year of their birth through to the year they returned to the embrace of the God of Truth.
……
"Charles I, Holy Calendar Year 350–572."
"Alfonso, Holy Calendar Year 387–633."
"Charles II, Holy Calendar Year 408–686."
"Benedict I, Holy Calendar Year 474–745."
"Gregory II, Holy Calendar Year 548–796."
A faint smile crossed Benedict II's face, and he murmured to himself in his aged, tranquil voice: "How could mortals ever find the path to the mysteries of the divine?"
…………
Saturday morning, just as dawn was breaking.
In an estate near the small town of "Saliwa," Filibel was conducting an Arcane Magic experiment with solemn concentration. Although he had only visited twice this week and never stayed overnight, his ruthless and formidable methods—combined with the analyzed principles of Divine Arts construction—left those druids who were deliberately causing trouble with no excuses. They could only frantically falsify experimental data. But Filibel hadn't bothered to check on the experiments at all; all his energy was devoted to synthesizing an essential vital substance from non-living matter.
As the final alchemy circle flared with light, Filibel laid eyes on a crystalline product that appeared colorless at low temperatures.
He restrained his excitement and slowly raised the temperature, allowing it to dissolve quickly into a colorless liquid at a moderate heat. The Magic Circle detected a pungent odor.
Filion took a step back and released an identification spell. He soon obtained the result: it was a fatty acid he had been trying to synthesize—a vital substance widely believed to exist only within living organisms!
"No more excuses for clinging to the theory of vital force in living bodies." A glimmer of a smile forced its way onto Filibel's pale, grim face. "I wonder how many of those old fossils in the organization will be willing to admit it and accept it? Unless they redefine what constitutes a vital substance, they will have to change their understanding. This time, I'll be the one to overturn it—hopefully making it easier for other necromancers to accept."