Chapter 89: The Light Spreading Through the Royal Capital (1)

“Ugh, ah…”

What greeted me upon returning from the Revelation was a terrible agony.

My heart felt as if it had been torn to shreds, an excruciating pain that would not relent.

It was all a side effect of the Revelation.

In the end, I lay there for quite some time.

My Holy Power stirred restlessly, my Faith failed to soothe me.

An unpleasant feeling of discord between soul and body would not cease.

“I can’t handle any more Revelations for the time being.”

Lying still, I thought of Allan.

One million.

That was the amount of Faith I had consumed during this Revelation.

Though I had diligently accumulated 8.5 million so far, this loss was a bitter blow.

Twenty thousand was the cost just to initiate the Revelation, and the maintenance costs afterward snowballed like an avalanche, depending on the duration and intensity of the debt.

Though I took such a huge risk, I never once regretted it.

Allan Marks really is a pain in the neck.

After the first Revelation, that guy took it as a deep humiliation that he had bowed his head before the divine.

Even as he was sinking into oblivion.

His pride soon morphed into competitiveness, which only fueled his rebelliousness.

So this time, I put more effort into it.

I increased the intensity of the Light, and revealed the divinity a little more extravagantly.

I plan to completely erase his pride and rebelliousness from his face.

Then, in that empty space, I will pour in Faith.

The unification of the Northern and Southern Continents is the unification of Bartenberg and Marx.

Until now, even if the sky were split in two, such a thing could not have happened.

But now, things are different.

The Saint of the North and the Saint of the South.

One day, when we meet on that lonely wooden bridge, we will lead the unification of the Continents through the Hor Church.

***

Time passed swiftly.

Today marked the seventh day since the nobles of Baren had started their brainwashing under the guise of Evangelization.

“Evil has descended from the heavens, leaving us with only despair and despair! Only those who hold Faith in their hearts need not fear!”

As always, the instruction began with Mary’s sermon.

The vigor emanating from her slender frame and graceful face was even stronger than that of the knights.

“Ah, ah! Hor’s light!”

The nobles, who had to endure such powerful preaching for two to three hours a day, gradually grew to respect it to the point of reverence.

The initial impiety and materialistic attitudes were nowhere to be seen after the first day.

“We have overcome! We have chased away the darkness by singing the Song of the Lantern!”

“Though dawn is near, the Light of Dawn will shine brightly even on Baren’s soil!”

“Shining brightly!”

Mary’s exhortations were echoed by Snowfall’s followers.

Their shaking of the banner and loud voices might have seemed like a fanatic cult to any outsider.

But the deputy felt no unease; the thought of a fanatic cult never even crossed his mind.

Had they already been converted?

“I’m beginning to wonder if I’ve gone mad.”

Suddenly, York Count whispered quietly.

“Why do you say that?”

“This behavior looks more devout. It wasn’t like this just a few days ago.”

Truthfully, I felt the same—

… Those words hung heavily from the Count’s lips alone.

So much had changed.

No one—not even themselves—had anticipated such a transformation in just one week.

They had doubted the very existence of God.

They knew Richard’s power but were wary of the deadly force itself.

For ten nobles to decide to become Evangelists was choosing the lesser evil over the worst.

“Hor’s light!”

But now they realized.

This was an opportunity that had come to Baren.

“Mary, good work.”

“Not at all!”

Mary stepped back after finishing her speech.

Approaching without hesitation was Richard.

The nobles held their breath as they saw the coffin squeezed tightly beside him.

This was the time when their terror made them tremble, and their hope felt most desperate.

Kriiieeeek—!

The White Ghost howled.

The madness mixed in its cries was not something ordinary nobles could withstand.

“Ugh—!”

They were driven to the brink once more today.

“Fear is a pure emotion.”

At the center, Richard gripped his black sword and opened his mouth.

“Right now, everyone here possesses that pure emotion. There is no distinction between man or woman, no difference in social status. You are simply fragile humans.”

Though his tone seemed cold, in the midst of the rampaging madness, Richard’s light appeared like that of a savior.

As usual, the nobles had no choice but to rely on that light.

The deputy closed his eyes and clasped his hands.

If someone asked him whether he had come to believe in God, he would answer:

I don’t know.

Doubt is a fundamental part of a gatekeeper’s nature.

Every decision they make carries great responsibility and obligation; the scars from a few stumbles were deeply etched in his gut.

Yet that was what held him back.

‘Hor’s light… do you truly exist?’

For those who must find ten proofs to establish a single belief, God was still a distant being.

‘If only this weren’t a religion…’

If this clear and reverent light were simply Richard’s power, and his goodwill done by his own strength,

Baren might have humbly accepted salvation more readily.

“Please save us. Shine a ray of light from this nightmare.”

The prayers, born from pure emotion called fear, were not directed at the God of Hor, but at Richard.

Like a Burial Moth drawn naturally to the light.

And as if that was the correct answer, a strange vitality stirred within him.

Suddenly, the deputy thought:

‘Perhaps God… doesn’t exist materially.’

For the believers, God exists.

Mary and her followers with their firm faces were proof.

For nonbelievers, God does not exist.

He and the royal nobles were proof.

It seemed he had found an answer.

“Hor’s light…”

Valentino de Trantis, the Marquess of Trantis.

The old man’s voice lacked strength.

But gradually, the muted heat began to spread.

“However difficult the circumstances, please let me fulfill my mission with these hands.”

Another realization he had reached at this moment.

“Light the fire in my closed eyes.”

God is not something proven to others and then believed.

“Let us share the light with the fearful common folk.”

Humans are imperfect beings.

In their short lives, they always carry doubt and always seek something more perfect.

So if someone asks whether I believe in God, the Marquess of Trantis will answer:

God to me is the peace and prosperity of Baren, and I believe that will be achieved.

To the very poor, God is like a gold coin.

To the starving, God is a meal.

“Is not all despair in this world itself God?”

Decisive humans act for the sake of their convictions.

Those who cannot believe in achievement bear the sin of giving up and often make excuses.

Believers never give up and seek greater and more grand hopes.

That is how they walk the path of perfection.

Since everyone has different doubts and different hopes, how could it be proven with the same thing?

Proof of God’s existence is a realm only one can reach on their own.

This was the Marquess’s insight.

It was a fragile belief, full of holes and easily refuted depending on one’s perspective.

But just as theology was beginning to bud, someone felt a small sense of accomplishment, filling the Marquess’s heart.

Saaah—

[Valentino de Trantis — Evangelist Qualification Acquired.]

[Valentino de Trantis — Lowest-Ranked Evangelist Qualification Acquired.]

[Special Skill: Afterglow Acquired.]

A debt rose within the Marquess’s aged body as he closed his eyes.

“…Grant a worthy life to us who fade away so fleetingly.”

A sacred aura mingled with his faint voice.

As if unaware of his own state, he continued his earnest prayer.

“Grant me the power to convey my humble realizations to the people.”

The nobles’ eyes were fixed on him.

***

“…This concludes today’s instruction. You all possess sufficient qualifications to begin Evangelization.”

Among the ten nobles, only the Marquess of Trantis had become a believer.

But not just a believer—an Evangelist was born, so there was no shortage of work ahead.

“Faith becomes stained if not guarded. You who bear such a grave duty must become examples for Baren. Do not ever be lazy in your duties.”

With those words, I finished the instruction.

The nobles, once stiff-faced, bowed their waists repeatedly and expressed their gratitude to me.

Thanking me for the grace, apologizing for doubting my intentions.

“You seem to have already forgotten all the hardships I put you through.”

Although they had harbored resentment toward me, these were the very nobles sent out as Baren’s Evangelists.

Yet their mental transformations were so great that their gazes toward me softened.

“You have many things to do.”

At my words, the nobles snapped back to reality and rushed out in a flurry.

Even at this moment, the common people were trembling.

As they left, they waved and offered thanks; I returned the gesture.

But only one remained in place.

An old man, thinner than the king himself, his face mottled with liver spots.

The Marquess of Trantis.

“Congratulations on becoming an Evangelist.”

“Thank you. I will repay the grace of the Saint with the debt of Baren.”

After bowing deeply, the Marquess showed no intention of leaving.

I, too, had much to say to him.

“From what I remember, Marquess, you displayed the most skeptical temperament. This is quite unexpected.”

“Heh heh… Did I? Your memory is fuzzy, isn’t it?”

The Marquess skillfully dodged the question with a playful smirk.

“Saint, may I ask you just one thing?”

Suddenly, his eyes grew serious.

“Saint, what exactly is God to you?”

…That was a rather difficult question.