And so, the banquet got underway.
All manner of alcoholic beverages had been prepared — whether you wanted them on the rocks, with water, or neat, there was more than enough ice to go around, so anything went.
Sake was out of the question, of course, but we'd managed to put together a fairly generous selection of drinks regardless.
The Holy Knights were enjoying it thoroughly.
In my drunken optimism, I'd hoped the talk of a "Tempest Martial Tournament" might just disappear, but no such luck.
That subject was going to be pursued in earnest.
So then, the following day.
A meeting was held to settle the future relationship between the Monster Nation and the Holy Church.
In truth, the damage on our side could have been enormous. We couldn't afford a soft approach.
However, the Blood Shadow Berserkers — the actual perpetrators — had been dealt a fitting punishment, and that incident appeared to stem from their own initiative rather than the Holy Church's.
There was the matter of administrative responsibility, of course, so we couldn't say it had nothing to do with them.
We could also have demanded some form of compensation for this Holy Knight subjugation campaign, but their territory was too far away — gaining an exclave would be pointless.
Besides, this wasn't the sort of matter that money could resolve.
Frankly speaking, what I truly wanted was not financial compensation but a good relationship with them. That was the honest truth.
With those thoughts in mind, the meeting commenced.
The participants on the Monster Nation's side were myself,
On the Holy Church's side, the participants were Hinata and five squad leaders.
First, we wanted to align our mutual understanding of the situation. Compensation and such could come after.
To that end, before the meeting, each side had prepared a bullet-point summary of their perspective on the situation and the events leading up to it, which were exchanged at the start.
Going through those documents, we'd verify the flow of events together.
If there were any discrepancies in understanding, it would be best to correct them early — that was my thinking.
Let me trace the sequence of events.
From our perspective, it went without saying that everything began with the Farmus Kingdom's invasion.
Throughout, our stance had remained consistent — we simply adjusted our response based on the other side's actions.
That was our position.
From the Holy Church's perspective, Hinata pointed out that the problem predated even Farmus's request.
In other words, recognizing the existence of the Monster Nation ran counter to the Church's teachings. This was a critical matter that could undermine the faith of their believers.
If left unaddressed, it would drive believers away and weaken the Holy Church's power.
That was precisely why the Monster Nation needed to be destroyed.
And for that, they needed a just cause and a pretext — or so Hinata explained.
They had exploited Farmus Kingdom's desire to protect its own interests and advance its greed to launch an assault on the Monster Nation.
Acknowledging this would be tantamount to declaring full responsibility on their part, yet...
I'd expected them to try to muddy the waters, so their candor came as a surprise.
"Heh heh heh... There's no use denying it. We were defeated. If we don't acknowledge what must be acknowledged, we cannot move forward.
Besides...
I had believed that the Holy Church was the only entity capable of protecting the people.
That doctrine was everything — those who placed their faith in the Church would be saved, and all others could be cast aside.
Given the limits of our ability to save people, saving only the faithful was true justice.
That was what I believed. But...
It seems I was wrong.
All we needed to do was extend a hand to those striving to save themselves.
My way of thinking — our way of thinking — that we should only help those we *could* save was, in a sense, arrogant.
If that's the case, then it doesn't matter whether one believes in the doctrine or not. If someone is in need, we should help them.
Doing what we can within the range of our own eyes — that, I believe, is what we are capable of."
She said this with a refreshing, almost relieved expression, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
Hinata smiled gently.
For Hinata, "we can only save those who believe in the doctrine" carried the opposite meaning from what it appeared.
"We can only save those who believe in the doctrine" — that was the reality.
She lacked the power to save everyone. If she wished to help people equally, it was an impossible dream.
And so, she had prioritized those who believed in and followed God's teachings.
Rationally cutting herself off, coldly discarding everyone else.
She had deceived her own heart, telling herself she was right, and lived this way until now.
In the end, since the number of people she could save was limited, she simply needed to draw a line somewhere.
Saving everyone was impossible, after all.
The line Hinata had drawn was whether or not someone believed in the doctrine.
And that was precisely why she had feared the decline of believers and the rise of non-believers.
Because it meant fewer people she could save.
Her thinking was so rigid it was hard not to crack a joke about it.
Still, I could understand, to a degree. It was the same in my original world.
Those who worshipped a single God tended to be quite inflexible.
A mere difference in interpretation of doctrine was enough to treat someone as an enemy. That alone made religion look dubious, yet they never bothered to reflect on their own actions.
If only they could be more flexible — if they could understand and empathize with the other side's position — I imagine a great deal of conflict would be eliminated.
Well, of course, that was just the surface reason for the fighting. The real motivation was the pursuit of power and profit — that much was obvious.
In the end, devout believers were made to weep so that a select few could profit.
What should you do to avoid being the one who weeps? It was actually a pretty simple answer.
The key was to think for yourself.
Don't just follow what others tell you — simply thinking with your own head went a long way toward saving yourself.
Most people were shrewd enough that they were more likely to be in the position of using others than being used.
It was simply a matter of not blindly trusting anyone.
On that point, Hinata had been too earnest.
Going forward, I'd recommend she live a little more freely.
Thanks to Hinata's straightforward admission of fault, the meeting proceeded smoothly.
The Holy Knight squad leaders had no objections, either.
They trusted Hinata, it seemed. No one raised objections or complaints about her statements.
We had finished confirming each other's situations and the events that led to the conflict, and the Holy Church had acknowledged its fault.
Now, then — the question of compensation...
"I'm sorry, but there's something I need to say regarding that matter," Hinata interjected.
According to her, the upper organization of the Holy Church — the Holy Papal State of Lubelius — had no involvement whatsoever in the recent conflict.
Well, "upper organization" was a bit of a simplification. It was somewhat complicated, but the person at the pinnacle of that nation — the Pope, or rather the Pontiff — also served as the head of the Holy Church.
However, the actual leaders of the Western Holy Church were Cardinal Nicolaus and Holy Knight Commander Hinata.
She stated that neither the rampaging incident nor the subjugation campaign itself involved their homeland.
Therefore, the Holy Papal State of Lubelius's involvement was limited to Hinata alone.
Even if compensation became an issue, once Hinata was removed from the equation, the matter would end there.
The reason it was complicated was that Hinata simultaneously held the position of Chief Imperial Knight — the Pope's personal guard.
Incidentally, the Imperial Knights and the Holy Knights were separate organizations.
The Imperial Knights existed solely to protect the Pope and never left his side.
Only Hinata, as their Chief, was permitted independent action, and she was authorized to oversee the training of Holy Knights — who protected the Pope on a broader strategic level — and the development of the Holy Church.
It was precisely because of this dual role that one could not entirely dismiss the Holy Papal State of Lubelius's responsibility.
However, all accountability ultimately fell on Hinata.
Furthermore, just to be safe, Hinata had submitted a resignation from her position as Chief Imperial Knight.
This was not just for the current incident — her teachers had instructed her to make herself expendable at any time, so to speak.
Those teachers of hers were known as the "Seven Luminaries."
They sounded dubious as all get-out, but they were said to be first-rate sages who had even trained a Hero in the past.
They had arranged things with meticulous foresight, ensuring that Hinata could be cut loose if needed. So pursuing the Holy Papal State of Lubelius for responsibility would be impossible.
In any case, the Western Holy Church had to be considered separately.
This time, we would have to settle for holding only the Western Holy Church accountable.
So, how should compensation be handled?
As I had mentioned earlier, financial settlement was not what we were after.
What we wanted was a declaration from the Western Holy Church — acknowledging our existence and pledging non-hostility.
When I said this, a Holy Knight named Arnaud voiced his support.
"On our end, that's no problem at all. If we truly believed you were evil, we wouldn't be in this world anymore."
However, another Holy Knight — Leonard, the Deputy Commander of the Holy Knights — furrowed his brow in disagreement.
"But there is still the issue of how we handle the doctrine. Depending on how that's done, the Holy Church itself could..."
This was the same dilemma that haunted Hinata.
In the worst case, the dissolution of the Holy Church itself might become necessary.
What mattered most was protecting the people. Even if the Holy Church ceased to exist, she would continue to protect the people.
Unlike Hinata, who had made that clean break, Leonard could not ignore the responsibility he bore toward the Church's believers and the existing organization.
If the Holy Church collapsed, the Holy Knights would likely scatter as well.
To Leonard, who was muddled in deep thought, Arnaud offered: "Then why not just announce that the residents of this nation aren't 'evil beings'?
I mean, the Goblin Tribe and the Orc Tribe have become so human-like it's almost unbelievable...
The Lizardman Tribe are classified as demi-humans to begin with.
And the Dragonewts — that goes without saying.
As for the Oni people, they're not low-class monsters — they're at the level of local deities.
In short, if we simply announce that demi-humans are not 'evil beings' as defined by the doctrine?"
Monsters they may be, but they didn't fall under the category of "evil beings" as the doctrine defined.
If they fully acknowledged them as demi-humans and treated them the same as Dwarves and others, wouldn't that earn a certain degree of understanding?
That was what Arnaud proposed.
It struck me as the most reasonable compromise.
We adopted that proposal and went over all the finer details at length.
And so, a provisional settlement was reached.
A plan had been devised for the Western Holy Church to officially recognize us, and as compensation, regular exchanges with the Holy Knights were agreed upon.
And above all — as compensation for this incident — we received a complete set of their damaged equipment.
In return, we gifted them replicated substitute swords. The performance wouldn't differ much, though I'd tailored them to match Hinata's fighting style, so they were rapiers.
We'd also received Hinata's broken sword and had arrangements made to analyze the Spiritual Armament as well. A small price to pay, all things considered.
But analyzing the Sacred Spirit Armament — that was huge.
The Holy Knights apparently carried degraded versions of Spiritual Armaments, and we could analyze those too while we were at it.
Since our attribute was the magic attribute — a subspecies of the dark attribute — we couldn't use them as-is, but I was confident we could modify them.
They were said to be military equipment on a national-secret level, but once analyzed, they'd be ours. This was compensation, after all — surely no one would object.
With this, our nation's armaments would become even more refined.
And just as we'd wrapped things up and settled accounts, we transitioned into casual conversation — where I obtained some incredible intelligence.
Or rather, it may have been common knowledge, but I was hearing it for the first time.
The information concerned the Great Holy-Demon War — also known as the Holy-Demon Great War — a massive conflict said to occur once every five hundred years.
The conversation had been prompted by me explaining my future plans.
The initial trigger was this: "Honestly — between the tempura, and the white rice, and the sashimi...
Rimuru, I no longer have any doubts that you're from my homeland.
You've so blatantly recreated the food of our original world that I'm less surprised than I am exasperated.
If what you say is true — and I'm sure it is — you've built a world to your exact specifications in just two years.
Until I saw it with my own eyes, I never could have believed it!"
That was Hinata, saying this with a mix of amazement and resignation.
To which I replied: "Ah, I'm nowhere near done yet.
Logistics are still slow, and communication is laughable.
Magic helps with living comfort and food preservation, to some extent.
The worst part is culture. There's far too little entertainment.
Well, that will take time to take root, but I'll develop it eventually, you'll see!
My immediate goal is road construction. Right now, I'm actively building safe and secure trade routes.
After that comes communication. I gave up on radio and the like because I didn't have the knowledge.
But listen —
If I run Magisteel wire through the space used for Shadow Movement and connect each city, even someone without much magical power will be able to make calls.
Impressive, right? It's going to be incredibly convenient!"
I boasted proudly.
In fact, I was already planning to build a network not just between the major cities, but connecting villages as well.
The long-distance communication orbs that Vester had developed allowed face-to-face conversations, but they were far too expensive. Covering every village with those was simply not feasible.
With Magisteel wire, though, if you stretched it thin through processing, you could lay it quite easily.
If you had someone who could enter the space of Shadow Movement do the installation, there were no obstacles, so it could be set up without much effort.
All that remained was developing the receiver units.
Having lived in an information society, I couldn't help but prioritize the speed at which information traveled.
Hearing this, Hinata said with a look of exasperation: "Hey now... Well, whatever. But if you overdo it, you'll attract an attack from the Angels."
Angels? What was she talking about?
Noticing my confusion, Hinata explained: "What, you didn't know? Once every five hundred years, the Sky Gate opens and Angels invade.
In principle, they don't attack humans, but cities that have grown too prosperous are destroyed.
Research has shown that Angels despise civilization.
The only nation that has escaped this attack is the Dwarven Kingdom.
That's because their entrance is limited to two points, and with dragons nesting in the mountains, large-scale attacks don't work.
That's how they've managed to defend themselves.
Other nations have kept their civilizations at a certain plateau for exactly that reason.
The exception is the Ingracia Kingdom.
That's also why the Council is based there — so they can conduct research and development to minimize the damage.
In Ingracia, the capital is rebuilt once every five hundred years.
This is done with the agreement of all nations, and the residents understand.
Last time, they hadn't overdeveloped too much, so the destruction wasn't that severe.
The nations support each other and conduct various types of research there.
Only the most useful and easily concealed technologies are utilized by each nation's king.
If research results spread too widely among the populace, it would invite an Angel attack.
The system ensures that only carefully selected, non-problematic innovations trickle down to the common folk.
Well, the Angels' purpose is the extermination of monsters.
So in practice, the nations turn a blind eye to some extent — that's the reality of it."
She explained this all to me as if it were something everyone already knew.
What the —? Angels? I'd never heard any of this...
"Hey, did you know about this?"
I asked Rigurd and the others — not directing the question at anyone in particular — and none of them knew either.
Some had heard about Angels attacking, but only in the context of the war between Angels and monsters.
They'd heard there was a great war every five hundred years, but had assumed it was Demon Lords fighting each other, or fighting humans.
Come to think of it, if they were fighting humans, the prolonged cease-fires wouldn't make sense. I hadn't thought deeply about it, but now that it was pointed out, it made sense.
Angels attacking once every five hundred years, though...
They didn't interfere with humans, but despised civilization? What was that supposed to mean — they wanted to, or feared, hindering human progress?
I couldn't make sense of it.
"So? Are the nations just going to leave it be? There's no talk of defeating the Angels?"
The answer to that was obvious.
They didn't want to pick a fight with an enemy even more troublesome than the Demon race!
Truly — as if the Demon race wasn't enough of a headache, the last thing they wanted was another enemy.
Apparently, as long as civilization didn't advance too far, the Angels left humans alone. But at what level did they become a target for annihilation?
They especially seemed to despise signs of otherworlders. Was gunpowder the problem?
Each Angel was said to be equivalent to a B+ rank, and they came in an army of roughly one million.
On top of that, there were squad leader-class and commander-class Angels, attacking in organized formation.
Apparently, there were even general-class Angels, though their combat capabilities were unknown.
Several Demon Lords had been killed by them, so they were apparently quite formidable.
Being of the holy attribute, the Western Holy Church advocated non-engagement.
If you didn't provoke them, they were harmless — or they might even destroy monsters for you, so naturally that made sense.
Though they didn't seem to believe the Angels were allies of humanity either, and even Hinata and the others didn't know the full picture.
After all, none of them had ever seen an Angel in the flesh — they could only speak from hearsay and records.
Additionally, one of the reasons the Holy Church regarded monsters as enemies was the existence of the Demon race.
Among monsters, those who organized and actively opposed humanity were called the Demon race. Among the Demon Lords, some were clearly hostile toward humans.
In fact, with Clayman gone, among the current Eight Star Demon Lords, there were none who were overtly hostile to humans.
"Wait — Clayman is dead?!" Hinata and the others were shocked.
"Yeah, he's dead. I killed him."
Reaching for a potato chip — a snack made by slicing potatoes, frying them in oil, and seasoning with salt — I answered in a carefree tone.
They were easy to make and perfect as a snack.
More importantly, I wanted to keep talking about the Angels! I looked at Hinata and the others, and they wore complicated expressions — equal parts exasperation and resignation.
That trash wasn't worth worrying about, if you asked me.
But when I heard the full story, it turned out Clayman had been making all sorts of shadowy moves, and they'd never been able to pin anything on him.
However, he'd been openly hostile toward humans, and had it not been for the restraining influence of the other Demon Lords, war would have broken out long ago.
That jogged my memory.
"Oh, right — Clayman's master was some Demon Lord called Kazalim.
And apparently there's a connection to Yuuki, so you might want to be careful."
I passed this information along to the Holy Knights, who weren't yet aware of the situation.
"Huh?! The commander of the Free Guild!? You're saying he might be Kazalim?"
"But we can't openly confront him... If we're not careful, it could trigger a war between the Holy Church and the Free Guild."
"But if Kazalim is alive and was the one pulling Clayman's strings...
Then the mastermind of the Demon race would be Kazalim.
Even if we can't say for certain that the commander is him, if the possibility is high, we need to keep watch."
They exchanged these grave words.
Yet despite their serious expressions, their hands kept reaching for the fried potatoes.
These guys were way too comfortable...
Even Hinata reached out and took a small bite.
"This is... I mean, is this really okay? Can we really be this casual about everything?" someone seemed to be muttering under their breath, but I figured that was none of my concern.
"R-right. Well, it's just speculation, so be careful, okay?
Honestly, I'm planning to go pick up the otherworlder children soon, and I don't want to tip anyone off."
"I have my own thoughts on that matter.
Would you mind if we looked into it on our end as well?"
"Hm? Oh, sure. Just be careful, yeah? The Free Guild are pros at information gathering, after all."
Hinata must have had her own ideas.
Perhaps something had clicked for her, and it might be worth letting her handle it.
With that thought, I gave my assent.
Without concrete evidence, there was no taking action.
Everything hinged on information gathering for this one.
Hinata seemed to understand this fully — we met eyes and exchanged a nod.
And so, going forward, we settled the terms of a friendly relationship with the Western Holy Church and spent a productive time together.
We'd also obtained some unexpected intelligence, so it would be wise to look into it on our end as well.
Hinata and the others stayed in the city for two or three days before departing.
A few remained behind so that we could reach each other in case of emergency. But it was clear that they weren't here to spy on us.
There was no longer any hostility between us, and it seemed we could maintain a friendly relationship going forward.
If possible, I wanted to keep things this way.
And with that, the series of conflicts with the Western Holy Church reached a provisional conclusion.