What is God?
It was a question I had been asked many times by the nobles.
But it was the first time someone asked, “What is God to me?”
After shaking off the lingering magic, the Marquess’s gaze turned toward me.
What should I say?
In my heart, I wanted to say, “I have no God.”
Because I am God myself, there could be no other.
“So then, Marquess, how do you think of God?”
I knew the Trantis Marquess had long harbored doubts about God.
For him to have gone beyond that doubt and become an Evangelist meant he had attained some sort of progressive enlightenment.
“The God I think of is…”
The Marquess rubbed his chin.
His eyes, as if organizing his thoughts, dimmed slightly.
“…perhaps everyone has a God—Hor.”
What on earth is he talking about?
I looked at the Marquess, silently urging him to continue.
“I see the Saint and the Evangelists of the Hor Church, and I feel this. We live under the same land and sky, so why should they be different from us?”
The believers’ gazes fell upon the Marquess.
“If God were a great and omnipotent being, then we would have been saved along with the believers. But in the madness of the Holy Sword, we were clearly divided. Those without faith were fearful, while those with faith were thriving. Didn’t the Saint always say that faith was the core?”
“Indeed, Marquess.”
“I have come to understand that saying, even if only a little.”
He struck his chest with his wrinkled hand.
The pride emanating from that small gesture was that of one who had overcome all worries and concerns.
“God is not something you believe exists. Rather, God exists because you believe.”
Those who held pens tended to speak in such complicated ways.
The believers listening carefully nodded.
It was a hard concept even for me to fully grasp.
Still, I had to at least pretend I understood.
After all, I was the Saint.
“It seems those with high academic learning truly are different. As the Marquess said, Hor exists through faith.”
“Oh! Oh! Saint, you think so as well?”
The Marquess grew excited like a child at my response.
It seemed less that he was pleased his thoughts were acknowledged, and more that he was happy there was a dialogue at all.
“Saint, I believe that hope, born from determination, or a sense of belonging, is Hor. Those who believe in Hor will push forward to accomplish their goals, while those who do not will choose to give up before hardship. Isn’t that so?”
I stared at him, eyes sparkling.
From what I heard, the Marquess’s ideas were more philosophical and progressive than I expected.
I glanced around.
The believers wore faces like scholars who had grasped the truth through his words.
I could not douse their enthusiasm with cold water.
“Indeed, that is true. Hor exists for everyone.”
“Of course! That’s the true doctrine of the Hor Church!”
True doctrine?
I had never seriously thought about such a thing.
I had only ever contemplated how to believe in God, and the doctrine I decided upon was simply, “Faith brings salvation.”
“Saint! Would you grant me time for further discussion?”
Once opened, the Marquess’s mouth rarely closed.
Recognizing that hope is Hor, and believing it will be fulfilled, he acted without cease.
That is faith—
If I were to define the Marquess’s enthusiastic and vigorous theory, it should be called the Doctrine of Hope.
“What am I to do with this?”
Should I correct him that it was a false faith, or let it be?
If I let it go as is, the Doctrine of Hope would be accepted as the official doctrine of the Hor Church.
Seeing the expressions of the Evangelists around me, I was certain that would happen.
But somehow, I thought it wasn’t entirely bad.
Hor itself was actually powerless, and I was far from omnipotent.
Compared to the problems pressing down and the growing burden of responsibility, the power I possessed was too insignificant.
That’s why I was even more drawn to the Marquess’s theory.
The Doctrine of Hope grants responsibility to each individual.
It was a progressive theory that avoided the stagnation of personal development.
There was no divine responsibility for the achievement of hope.
Everything depended on the faith and effort of the actor.
At least in this world, I knew it was a flawed belief—but I did not want to deny it with my own mouth.
Maybe it was a kind of self-escape.
***
The nobles of Baren.
Those bestowed with the Evangelist’s mission began to seriously kindle the flames of evangelization.
They gathered one hundred carefully selected people to preach the doctrines of Hor, then chose ten from among them to wear armbands.
Saaa—
Those who witnessed the Marquess’s debt readily accepted the Hor Church.
Even the skeptical Ahome nobles had no choice but to believe, bursting into smiles.
The lingering doubts until the very end were resolved through the Trantis Marquess.
“What we earnestly desire is Hor itself.”
“If that is so…”
Especially the Doctrine of Hope greatly eased religious resistance.
It was not about bringing in foreign beliefs, but rather recognizing the God within their own hearts.
“Believe that the hope you have will surely be fulfilled, act accordingly, and dream of a better life.”
Baren was ill.
It was a time when a call to inspire hopeful motivation was more needed than ever.
Now that the flame of Hor had been kindled, for the desperate, faith alone had become the only asset.
“What is our Hor?”
“To reveal God to the people!”
One hundred prospective believers shouted with vigor.
“Look upon the debt!”
The Trantis Marquess stepped forward and revealed a halo.
The power radiating from his body resembled that of Mary’s passionate speeches.
“Baren faces a great turning point. This is not a crisis but an opportunity, and with our united hope, we serve Hor!”
Waaaah—!
A week after Richard’s education had concluded.
All preparations were finally complete.
***
Whiiing—
A bleak wind blew through the capital.
The faces of the people wandering the streets were dull, their eyes heavy with gloom.
Even the children, who once thought the world was endlessly bright, were no different.
‘The allied Prot Kingdom has already established defensive lines.’
“Other countries already consider Baren a lost land.”
What drifted in were rumors as dark as magic.
Some held onto hope, saying that Richard’s visit to the capital meant the Bartenbergs had not given up on Baren.
But after several weeks, those hopes turned to despair.
They said he was merely here to see the collapsing kingdom before its end.
“This country is finished. We must prepare to leave!”
“Damn! Where would we even go? Everyone’s locked the gates, citing Mains or whatever!”
The Baren Kingdom.
Once a great power of the northern continent, now half abandoned and left a rusting relic.
Hope was nowhere to be found.
Only despair lingered, as people pondered how their nation’s fate would ultimately conclude.
Then.
The castle gates suddenly burst open with a clang.
Soldiers poured out through the gap.
What could this mean?
The people’s faces, worn thin by anxiety, stiffened.
Then, their eyes widened.
[On a cold and gloomy day]
[Hor kindled the light and shared warmth]
The sound of a soft chant drifted in as a group appeared at the open gate.
Holding flags emblazoned with a cross emblem, their faces burning with a sense of mission.
Among them were nobles, soldiers, and even a single servant.
Now, though, their ranks were distinguished by pure white cloaks.
[He said to us]
[Be a torch for the cold and trembling people]
An Evangelist, a devoted believer named Arow, and a choir of one hundred believers began to sing.
The song’s cadence, reminiscent of a lullaby, carried a sacred aura that spread far and wide.
“Ah, ahh…
The people shed tears.
To the weary and exhausted, the warmth was more precious than gold.
[The storm has passed]
[Through this light, awaken]
[What does Hor say within you?]
[Prove it for yourself]
[Hor will be proven because of you]
[What is our hope?]
The choir, glowing brightly, began to walk forward.
The warmth startled the crowd into opening a path, which they followed.
Drip, drop—
Unaware their eyes might be streaming with tears.
[May the light shine upon Baren’s peace]
[May warmth spread through Baren’s prosperity]
[Soon, the twin flames will rise]
Following the hymn’s footsteps, the crowd grew ever larger.
It was from a heart eager to offer even a little more light.
***
The king looked down upon the capital from the royal castle.
Ahead of him, the choir led by the radiant Trantis Marquess advanced.
They planned to circle the capital once.
At least in this way, they said, they would share their warmth with the people.
“Joo…”
Though the choir was already far away, the lingering warmth they left behind remained.
The king closed his eyes and listened.
He heard the heartfelt hymn.
He could not tell if the pounding in his chest was from worry about the future or hopeful anticipation.
But one thing was certain—
The smiles of the people he saw after so long were deeply beautiful.
“Hor…”
Once known as the town crier for Richard and a staunch opponent of the Hor Church, the Trantis Marquess now stood at the front of the choir, singing with a hoarse voice.
The king laughed heartily.
The opposition nobles, who changed their stance as easily as flipping a hand, were not to be scorned.
At least in Baren, no one would do that.
He believed in the wisdom of the nobles, and they judged the Hor Church to be beneficial.
That was all.
Rather, because of that, the king’s faith in the Hor Church had been strengthened.
“Did he say Hor is within me as well?”
The king clasped his hands.
Following the nearby hymn, he whispered to himself.
[When Hor performs miracles]
[You will prosper abundantly]
[And smile safely there]
At that moment,
The sky, once shrouded in dark magic, cleared.
The dark curtain lifted, revealing countless rays of light.
A brilliant light poured down upon the capital.
“Hey—”
Everyone opened their mouths and looked up at the sky.
“It’s a miracle…”
“Hor’s miracle!”
How long had it been since they had seen such a blue sky?
More than the pouring rays of light, tears flowed more abundantly from the eyes of the people.