The Holy City of Lance.
The entire Grand Hall of Light had fallen into an indescribable solemnity and silence, the atmosphere frozen as though time itself had stopped. Regardless of whether they had participated in the operation to capture the artificial planet, every member of the College of Cardinals had bowed their noble heads, bracing themselves for the wrath of His Holiness the Pope.
This operation had been an utter failure — doomed from the very start, rendering His Holiness's gamble meaningless. Someone would have to bear responsibility.
Compared to the legendary mages of the Magic Parliament, the Church's Holy Spirit Priests and Sacred Knights were far less transcendent. Their own standing and the authority they wielded placed limits on how far their power could grow. The higher one's position, the greater one's authority, and the closer one drew to the Lord — the faster one's power would increase. This was an essential dependency, which meant that any punishment inflicted would be far more than a mere symbolic gesture.
Moreover, before they had grasped the secrets of faith, every previous Pope had possessed one final "divine tool" at their disposal: excommunication. A Holy Spirit Priest struck by excommunication would be severed entirely from Heavenly Mountain, forced to rely solely on their own "Heart of Faith" with no means of replenishment. Before long, they would degenerate into a legend in name only — holding the rank but lacking any real power.
Legendary mages, on the other hand, derived their standing entirely from their own strength. Even losing their seat on the Supreme Council would change nothing of consequence. Their dependence on the Magic Parliament lay in resource allocation and the environment for arcane and magical research — so they were naturally far more transcendent, and any punishment would not cripple them to the core.
This was one of the reasons why factions within the Parliament remained so deeply entrenched and internal conflicts proved impossible to eliminate — the transcendent status of the legendary mages was both a blessing and a curse.
Among the members of the College of Cardinals, no one was more anxious than Philip. He had personally orchestrated this entire plan.
The deafening explosion of the artificial planet detonating was like the mocking, malicious laughter of the Magic Parliament, and it echoed endlessly in Philip's mind, refusing to let him go.
Even as a newly appointed Holy Spirit Priest — a young man with the potential and hope of becoming a saint, and an unwavering loyalist to the Pope — he still had to think carefully about how to bear His Holiness's wrath and how to minimize the damage as much as possible.
Though after Pope
Compared to those mighty figures who had to secretly and painstakingly collect emotional energy and spread the faith, those who belonged to the Church of Truth were infinitely better off. Every day, they could openly siphon faith power in proportion from the dioceses under their control, without needing to do anything more. If they were punished by being reassigned to a remote, backwater diocese, it would be a devastating loss indeed!
Pope Benedict III sat with the sacred crown atop his graying head, the platinum scepter in his hand, his pale eyes gazing with cold detachment at the members of the College of Cardinals. For a full five minutes, he did not utter a single word.
His quasi-divine pressure had not been released, yet that invisible force rendered the entire hall as still as frozen time, silencing every cardinal so that none dared speak.
Then, softly, he sighed. "This matter has nothing to do with you. It is not your fault. The plan was, in truth, nearly perfect — we successfully drew away the Grand Archanist and pinned him down. The blame lies entirely with those wicked mages, who proved far too cunning. To think they would have set such a bizarre self-destruct device on the artificial planet."
His measured tone and the way he framed the outcome caused the frozen atmosphere to thaw at once. Inside, Philip let out a long, deep breath, suffused with genuine gratitude. His Holiness was truly magnanimous and far-sighted — he understood the way things stood.
"Your Holiness, then what do we do now? Should we plan a similar operation?" Philip deliberately asked the question to which he already knew the answer, hoping to shift the focus of the discussion and move past the failure of the past.
Benedict III seemed entirely unaware of his little ploy. In a voice neither high nor low, he replied, "Until we understand the workings of that self-destruct device, no similar plan has any chance of success."
"Your Holiness speaks truly," said Estila, the Wind Angel, with a trace of lingering fear. "The magical effect was neutralized, yet it still detonated — and with such devastating force. It truly cannot be taken lightly. If we do not determine the cause, next time someone might even perish." Had the detonation's power at that moment approached the level of the Eternal Blazing Sun, they would all likely be finished already — since an artificial planet that was not a legendary artifact had been capable of an atomic-fission-level explosion, there was even a minuscule possibility that the Eternal Blazing Sun itself could be triggered the same way.
Mormos nodded as well. "Unless the Eye of God descends and we use divine arts like the Hourglass of God to control the situation, I can see no alternative to a forced capture. But a forced capture would take far too long and could escalate into an all-out war."
The Eye of God, Alvin — one of the Six Seraphim — was one of only two beings within the Church of Truth capable of using time-stop-class divine arts. The other, naturally, was Pope Viken.
This power over "time and space" appeared to be a gift from the
"We could use a more indirect, more covert approach." Philip turned to Benedict III. "Your Holiness, the quasi-divine method you have been secretly distributing must have already shaken the resolve of certain high-ranking mages, hasn't it? We could work through them—"
He left the sentence unfinished, but every member of the College of Cardinals understood what he meant. It was no different from what they had done before — using spies to steal secrets and carry out assassinations.
At the original emergency council, Benedict III had "told" them the full history of the Church of Truth, describing Tarnos, the Sun King, as the Holy Son sent down to the mortal world by the supreme God of Truth — a Holy Son who was one with the God of Truth and the Pope in a divine trinity, who had sought to destroy the wicked Magic Empire and redeem all of humanity. He described Tarnos's research into the mysteries of the gods as a process of awakening suppressed memories under the guidance of the God of Truth. And he described Tarnos's final failed experiment — his fusion with Heavenly Mountain and the complete loss of all autonomous consciousness — as a deliberate sacrifice made to save the world: to open the Chamber of Immortality, awaken the hearts of humanity, and then return to the God of Truth.
Such a "story" could only leave the cardinals half-believing, half-doubting. But Viken's aim had never been to fabricate a convincing tale. It was to make them understand that the God of Truth was indeed a true deity who possessed the ultimate power — one who had merely fallen into slumber. This could be verified by the vast, overwhelming power of Heavenly Mountain that they had sensed. Combined with Viken's voluntary revelation of the quasi-divine method and the secrets of faith, they naturally "believed without reservation."
As for Viken's covert distribution of the quasi-divine method, he had not kept it from them either. They had no objection. After all, they themselves controlled vast territories of faith and had no need to compete with anyone. They could simply watch others battle over it and, by lending support to different factions, make the struggle all the more vicious — which only served their own interests. After all, if anyone tried to unite against them, there was a Pope on this side capable of performing a God-descending Rite.
Pope Benedict III shook his head. "When I gave them the quasi-divine method, I attached no conditions. Nor will they do anything that runs counter to their own interests on our behalf. In truth, I would prefer it this way. The moment they approach success will be the moment the fragrant flowers bloom in full. Things will become truly interesting, and we will reap a far greater harvest. That is why I do not want the artificial planet affair to expose their 'efforts' prematurely."
"So we just give up?" Philip said, somewhat disappointed.
Benedict III smiled. "If they take the initiative to reveal what they know and seek an exchange, then that is another matter entirely. I know the 'Death Herald' is desperate to obtain a certain amount of faith power, and he has hidden himself very well. Even if exposed, he has scapegoats. Besides, I still need to see one person — perhaps I can obtain the secret of the artificial planet directly from him."
With that, he said nothing more and declared the College of Cardinals meeting adjourned.
Mormos, Maria, Carty, Estila, and the others were brimming with questions, curious about who exactly the "Death Herald" was and whom His Holiness wished to see last. But they had no choice but to suppress every thought and leave the Grand Hall of Light in quiet silence.
(To be continued)