Wortenia Senki (LN) - Volume 23 - Chapter Ep

Epilogue

A man looked out from a window in a luxurious room within a certain mansion.

Not a cloud in the sky. It’s refreshing. I wish the world could be as clear as this night sky.

A pale, full moon sat high in the sky, surrounded by the bright light emitted by the sparkling stars. It was like a natural planetarium. Perhaps it was a museum of perfect harmony created by an absolute figure, like a god.

Either way, human hands couldn’t replicate that beauty. As a cardinal of the Church of Meneos, it was an example of the world their god had instructed them to build and something they strove for.

I wonder if the light of the heavens, where our God of Light Meneos sits, is as beautiful?

A world made of stars stretched out before him. But the man felt a pain which contradicted the surrounding beauty. It felt as if he saw how impossible his religion’s ideals were. The man involuntarily raised his hand toward the moon, almost pleading with his god. The glass window blocked the path of his hand, causing the man to smile wryly.

I’ve acted a bit rashly as a servant of Meneos.

Just as the sun was said to be an incarnation of the God of Light, in this world, the moon symbolized Vishmarela, the God of Darkness. The Church of Meneos taught that Vishmarela hated the world Meneos had created and was planning its destruction.

The usual story.

A religious order often created an evil version of their god, which they then confronted to demonstrate why their teachings were correct. Naturally, as a cardinal, the man had told that story many times to believers. However, if asked if he believed in it, the man would shake his head.

In reality, the man had a lot of authority within the Church of Meneos as a cardinal, overseeing a large congregation of believers. That did not mean he blindly believed in the church’s teachings.

Or rather, it would be more accurate to say he could no longer believe in it.

Ever since I learned about the existence of the other world...

A world different from the Earth he knew.

The world called Rearth had a form of knowledge recognized as science—something this world had no way of understanding. His life changed when he read a document from Rearth written about a subject of study known as astronomy.

What was his name again, Galileo? If I had as much courage as he, would I have been able to change something? 

Galileo Galilei was a target of the Inquisition and lost his position within the church. It was easy to scoff at it, regarding him as a fool unaware of the times. But his achievements had left their mark hundred years into the future, giving meaning to his sacrifices. Although the man yearned for it, he didn’t have the courage to walk the same path as Galileo.

Accounting for his position and the lives of so many people, his simplistic sense of justice held no meaning.

It’s almost time. I should get started.

The hand of a clock nearby on the wall was pointing to midnight. The man couldn’t be late because he was to meet his boss, the pope. He stepped into a magic circle in the center of the room, controlling his breathing as his chakras silently activated.

“O torrent of power flowing through this earth, guide my will to his domain.” Judging from his shortened chant, the man was a high-level user of verbal thaumaturgy, as expected of one in his role. The man’s will entered the current coursing through the earth as he teleported several thousand kilometers.

“Right on time... Punctual as ever, Cardinal Roland.”

Laughter echoed around the pope’s audience room in the holy city of Menestia. Cardinal Roland’s consciousness, which had taken form, knelt before the pope, swearing allegiance.

“Your Holiness, it is a pleasure to be in your presence and to hold an audience with you,” Cardinal Roland greeted his superior, in the manner customary when one had an audience with the pope.

Yet the pope waved his hand as if Cardinal Roland was a nuisance and interrupted him.

“That’s enough. Mirroring thaumaturgy is reliant on the position of the stars. There is no need to waste more time with empty formalities.”

Cardinal Roland nodded slightly and stood back up.

“I’m aware of the gist of the discussion. I have eyes and ears, after all. However, I would like to hear your opinion, Cardinal Roland, as someone responsible for the area.”

“Thank you, Your Holiness.”

The pope laughed and said, “So formal... I trust in your loyalty and ability, Cardinal Roland. Otherwise, I would not have made you travel to the opposite side of the continent.”

Transmitting information across the large continent was always an issue for politicians and had limitations. Plenty of countries used horses to deliver information. People often sent letters via birds and even used smoke signals.

Talented verbal thaumaturgists could use the ley lines throughout the earth to transmit their will and communicate over great distances. Although, it was not as useful as calling on the telephone or sending an email like in modern society. Using horses to send information wasn’t great for confidentiality since the person delivering the message changed often. If goods were transported from outside the country, they would have to pass through the guild for inspection.

Meanwhile, sending letters with birds always held the possibility of monsters attacking them. The method was functional for short distances but not reliable for long distances.

Smoke signals needed specific positions at specific intervals, making them ideal for domestic communication. All methods of communication took a lot of time, unlike phones and emails. If there was an issue with something, it was impossible to say, “Oh, please wait a moment.” That included making a call to their boss. One had to cross the extensive western continent to reach the holy city of Menestia from the Kingdom of Rhoadseria. It would take several months to report information without a high-level thaumaturgist capable of transmitting information over long distances.

That was assuming one didn’t end up stranded in a strange place. Highways being closed due to rain or monsters appearing meant one would have to make a detour, which was a very common occurrence on Earth. In addition to that, his next task concerned the Organization, a society working in secret in the western continent. Considering all this, it was easy to imagine why the pope trusted Cardinal Roland.

“I am deeply honored,” stated Cardinal Roland, bowing his head deeply.

“Well, as we are on limited time, let’s get on to the main topic. So, how is the man in question?”

“He is incredibly competent. The people summoned from Rearth who survive are all incredibly talented. But this man is a cut above the rest...”

“Hm... Well, that was to be expected...” agreed the pope, delighted. Most of the humans summoned from Rearth held an incredible amount of knowledge. Not much difference existed between those summoned from developing countries, and other more developed areas.

Even if the people from Rearth couldn’t read, having experienced civilization in a modern society meant that they knew the civilians of this world couldn’t compare. Conversely, it was difficult for those summoned from Rearth to survive here on Earth. Unless they had specifically learned some survival abilities, most of them couldn’t even start a fire. There were two ways people from Rearth would end up here.

First, they could be summoned as a war slave by a verbal thaumaturgist in some country somewhere. Second, sometimes Earth and Rearth were connected by a natural phenomenon, leading to the person from Rearth getting accidentally caught up in a hole in time and space.

No matter the situation, the chances of them surviving weren’t high. The person who summoned them would carve a magic symbol into them to ensure that they remained obedient and served them as a slave when they arrived. Men would be sent to the battlefield, whereas women would meet a worse fate based on their appearance and age. At any rate, the majority of them would have mental breakdowns or lose their lives.

Still, being transported through a hole in time and space wasn’t any better.

To begin with, the hole in time and space wasn’t always at ground level. Should one open up in the sky, one would fall straight to the ground and be flattened. Or if it opened somewhere over the ocean, unless there was land nearby or a passing ship, one would become food for the sea monsters.

The same applied if the hole opened underground.

Furthermore, those who came to Earth through those means didn’t have the automatic language translation perk. Earth wasn’t very welcoming to strangers they couldn’t communicate with. Unless they got incredibly lucky, they would either be sold as slaves or have all their possessions stolen and get killed. As a result, only those who could survive such a harsh introduction to the world could survive. It was only natural that people from Rearth were strong. The strong, wise, and lucky were the only ones who would survive. As far as Cardinal Roland knew, no other humans had adapted to this world as well as Ryoma Mikoshiba had.

“I see... What about his involvement with the Organization?”

Cardinal Roland shook his head in response to the pope’s question. “No conclusive evidence yet. However, based on the Rhoadserian war, I believe the possibility of Ryoma Mikoshiba working with the Organization is low.”

“Hmm... Why do you think that?”

“If he were a member of the Organization, I don’t believe he would have just been satisfied with banishing us to the Kingdom of Tarja. If they had only superficially accepted the retreat, a few offshoots from the Organization would have planned some surprise attacks. Moreover, they likely wouldn’t have let Rodney Mackenna and Menea Norberg stay behind as negotiators. Of course, they could be pretending they accepted those two and have laid a trap. But they should also know we would prepare for such things. He didn’t seem like the man to resort to such simple tactics.”

The pope deeply nodded in response.

“I see... If it is true that the Organization is composed of people from Rearth, the hatred they harbor would be immeasurable. There is no real reason to continue our retreat.”

On the surface, the Church of Meneos had little information on the Organization. But it was half true, and half a lie.

The Church did not know the scale of the Organization or the names of the members. They could assume it had people summoned to Earth or who had wandered here somehow.

If that weren’t the case, there would be too many inconsistencies.

Whether that went for the whole of the Organization or just a small part, Cardinal Roland didn’t know. Regardless, he was very much confident in his conjecture. It was safe to say that the Church of Meneos was the otherworlders’ sworn enemy.

It makes sense, considering our crimes.

It was the Church of Meneos that first proposed summoning otherworlders to use them as slaves. That was an inconvenient truth which only part of the church’s senior members were privy to. Such knowledge could never become public—the Church of Meneos spoke of peace, kinship, and justice, even if it was imperfect.

And if they chose to conceal that for fear of resentment, they had no other option than saying they knew nothing more about the Organization.

It was like a victim having a scar on his shin. When asked by the police if he knew what happened to him, he would respond saying he had no idea what happened.

Silence filled the room.

The pope spoke up. “Fair enough. Cardinal Roland, continue with gathering information about that man. Even if he is not a part of the Organization, we can’t dismiss the idea that they have somehow gotten involved with him. I will leave Rodney and the others to you, so make sure to put them to good use. I’m sure the two of them will do good work.”

Cardinal Roland had prepared himself for the pope to scold him. He nodded deeply in response. “Thank you, Your Holiness.”

The pope, seeing Cardinal Roland like that, then continued joyously. “Also, it seems O’ltormea is planning to invade Xarooda. Brittantia is planning an invasion of Myest too. It seems both will be erupting into war in the near future... Nay, maybe it has already begun.”

“What... Is that true?” asked Cardinal Roland, his voice panicked. Realizing his mistake, he bowed his head. The pope was both the leader of the Church, and an agent of their god. Doubting his words was foolish and impolite. “My apologies, Your Holiness... What does the Holy Empire plan to do?”

If the O’ltormea Empire was pouring resources into the Kingdom of Xarooda, their western border would be undermanned. That scenario was a possible once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for the Holy Qwiltantia Empire. They would surely request reinforcements from the Church of Meneos. But the pope shook his head at Cardinal Roland’s question.

“We have already begun to mobilize the Temple Knights. However... They are not acting as reinforcements for the Holy Qwiltantia Empire.”

Cardinal Roland frowned.

“Then does that mean...they’re headed east? But it would take the Temple Knights quite some time to get there.” A military unit could cover around twenty-five to thirty kilometers in a day. If pushed, they could probably clear around forty kilometers. But they would be exhausted the next day, meaning they would have to move much slower. Plus, the Temple Knights were a larger force than Cardinal Roland’s scouting team. It would take months for such a large battalion to reach the eastern side of the continent from the holy city of Menestia. Even then, that was being generous with the calculations. The paths would be unpaved, and safety questions might arise because monsters could attack or landslides could halt progress depending on the weather. It was also unknown how many of the southern kingdoms would allow them passage. No matter how strong the influence of the Church of Meneos was in the southern kingdoms, most would not easily allow passage of such a large military force.

At least, it would be far more difficult for them than it had been for Cardinal Roland when he headed to the Kingdom of Rhoadseria.

They could follow the sea until they reached the Kingdom of Brittantia to avoid going through the southern kingdoms. But it wouldn’t be as safe as going by land. 

As they were a religious organization without access to a navy, they would either have to enter into a deal with merchants and borrow their ships or resort to commandeering ships, using their holy name as a shield. Depending on the situation, they might need to wait at the port for the wind. Travel by sea might take just as long as it would if they went by land. Seeing that the Temple Knights hadn’t become used to the sea, they could end up ill, which was yet another reason sea travel wasn’t an easy solution. Most knights hadn’t even seen the sea with their own eyes.

When Cardinal Roland asked if the pope had any secret plans, the man simply smiled.

“Well, Cardinal Roland... I would like you to continue observing that man. Keep working hard at your role. If we need anything, I will be in touch,” said the pope, breaking into laughter. Cardinal Roland bowed his head, locking away the many doubts and questions that crossed his mind. He had no other option.

“Your Holiness... Are you sure about that?” An old voice echoed out after Cardinal Roland’s projection had disappeared and silence returned to the audience room. Even though it was a hoarse voice, it strangely rang well into the ears of the listener. The pope, unfazed by the sudden voice, responded calmly. That showed he knew of the old man’s presence within the darkness.

“Yes. While our influence in the Kingdom of Rhoadseria has declined, our fellow countrymen weren’t devout believers in our god. As there is no need to question Cardinal Roland’s devotion, we should let him proceed with his plan. Although we didn’t blame him for anything, I’m sure he now understands his position...and will be even more desperate next time.”

“I see... Please forgive me for my needless remark,” responded the voice from the darkness.

“No need to apologize. I understand your doubts,” said the pope, picking up the bottle of alcohol next to him before pouring the red liquid into a glass. His drink was red, the color of a god’s blood.

“By the way, have you worked out how to use the Dimension Gate?”

The old man was unsure how to respond to the pope’s question. The Dimension Gate was one of the most secret and difficult-to-master forms of thaumaturgy that used the ley lines. After all, it was a means of transport that ignored the concept of distance, warping time and space by temporarily connecting two destinations. While the method resembled teleportation magic, it differed in how the user could transport someone else, not just themselves.

Also, the greatest advantage it had was the option of keeping the connection open for a fixed period in exchange for a large amount of prana. If one could master this, they would be able to move military forces in an instant. Even a child could understand the benefit to being able to move a large-scale unit anywhere they liked, anytime they wanted. Although, it would be difficult to use such a powerful form of thaumaturgy. A person would need to fulfill some requirements first. The most important of those was the condition of the ley lines and the positioning of the stars. In a way, using Dimension Gate would challenge the natural order of things. Because of that, previous popes had spent a lot of money trying to solve this problem.

The old man eventually shook his head in response to the pope’s question. He had devoted his heart and soul to solving the problem and had yet to reach a solution.

“My sincerest apologies, Your Holiness. I have tried everything at my disposal, but the conditions of the ley lines change too much from day to day. And if the position of the stars is also affected, I cannot tell you anything for sure at this time.”

The pope snorted in displeasure. However, it seemed he didn’t blame the old man.

“I see... Should we learn how to use it, our order could easily take control of the continent. Our lord Meneos, the God of Light, is also the God of Creation. If only he would give his followers a bit more flexibility...”

Such words could seem like they ridiculed the God of Light, Meneos. But the will of a god was unknown to humans, who just believed in the Church’s teachings. If the Inquisition were to hear such slander, it wouldn’t be unusual for it to result in punishment by burning. In lands like the continent’s eastern region, leniency might exist since the Church of Meneos had a weaker influence. But lives were at risk in places like the holy city of Menestia and the Holy Qwiltantia Empire—regardless of a person’s status, be it a noble or commoner. Not even royalty would get away with such slander. They might avoid execution, but they would lose their royal rights and find themselves locked up in an empty mansion somewhere.

At the very least, they were not words a sane person would ever utter.

The person who had uttered them, however, was in control of the Inquisition. Even if they were in the same room and heard what the pope said, they wouldn’t find fault with it. While the old man was fully aware of this, he couldn’t help but say something about it. The old man held the title of chief cardinal, a particularly trustworthy position among the twelve cardinals who aided the pope. Despite his position as a cardinal being to advise and aid the pope, he couldn’t ignore such blasphemous words.

“Your Holiness... Perhaps you jest too much.” The old man could only gently rebuke the pope’s joke, unable to admonish him further, demonstrating the clear power dynamic between the two. The old man saw the pope as Meneos’ incarnation, on the same level as a god. A ruthless and cruel god.

No matter their position, not even a cardinal could escape death if he directed his anger at them. Thus, it seemed the old man’s carefulness had succeeded.

“True... I misspoke. Although I want to cover the land in his lord’s light, I got too ahead of myself. Let’s dismiss it as an off-the-cuff remark,” declared the pope.

The old man bowed his head and stated, “Please do not worry. It is all caused by my incompetence. I deeply apologize for troubling you, Your Holiness.” They had suddenly switched sides. The old man had no other choice of answer, seeing as the pope had apologized to him.

The old man’s slow work was the root cause of all this. However, the pope had no intention of blaming him.

“We are trying to use a power that is beyond our understanding... There is no wonder that progress is slow. Do not worry about it. Just keep on working at it,” continued the pope, gulping his drink. “It will be interesting to see who brings about god’s grace...”

The pope noticed the old man’s expression, then laughed loudly. It was a laugh filled with joy and delight, but it also contained the arrogance of a fanatic, a man acting as god’s agent. In a way, it resembled the laughter of a beast waiting for its feast of blood. The old man bowed his head again and disappeared from the audience room as if running away from the beast’s laugh.

A new wind of war was about to sweep over the western continent as the Church of Meneos, the Organization, and several countries’ intentions all intertwined. That war would give Ryoma Mikoshiba another opportunity to rise to greater heights. As an ungodly man, he was yet to know of the fateful encounter waiting ahead.