Chapter 12
The High Papacy is located in the capital of Lortheran and is a pilgrimage site for all believers. It is home to the most powerful mages, and all races can find their place here. There is no discrimination. Whether you are a noble or a commoner, every church member selected for the High Papacy based on your outstanding qualities is equal here.
Of course, this does not include the power center of the Papacy.
It is necessary to introduce the church, which has ruled the faith of this continent for hundreds of years. In its early days, it established a bishopric that directly obeyed the orders of the Pope. The bishoprics were in turn in charge of the various dioceses on the continent of Icarus.
The bishopric is rotated every ten years, and previously twelve seats were allocated, but ten years ago, His Holiness the Pope only provided a list of eleven.
Last year, His Holiness the Pope reappeared, and this time, he brought the first Holy Son to the Papacy.
That is, the most talented magician in the history of the Kingdom of Lortheran, Sylvain.
Sylvain, along with the eleven archbishops of the episcopal conference, had two hours of prayer time each day, listening at any time to the Pope's teachings.
These are the last two hours of the day, and the archbishop in charge of leading the believers who have traveled from afar in prayer is Fekris, a famous dwarf master builder.
This short man was able to forge the empire's most durable weapons, making him a renowned figure across the entire continent. He was also one of the Pope's followers, and because he had lived a long life, he did not treat the Pope with the same caution as others.
They acted like old friends. In reality, the Pope himself was not dignified; in fact, he was easygoing and could talk to anyone. But the more he acted this way, the more apprehensive the other archbishops became.
When Felix heard his old friend's voice, he almost thought he was hallucinating. He looked up and saw the magic circle on the Pope's statue light up. He shuddered and quickly kowtowed to listen.
The believers in the hall behind him were puzzled, but seeing Archbishop Felix's unusual behavior, they became agitated.
—The Pope has appeared in divine form!
It's been so many years since His Holiness the Pope last appeared in a miracle; they never imagined they would be so lucky!
Veris spoke in the dwarven language. After connecting to the Grand Papacy's sculpture magic circle, the barrier automatically opened, and only Fekris could hear his voice.
"Oh, what a coincidence, I was just looking for you, Felix."
"It is my honor, Lord Orlando."
"You keep urging me to write the scroll, but I have an extremely urgent matter to attend to. I absolutely refuse to put pen to paper until it's resolved!"
Fikris's eyes widened, and he immediately became anxious: "Lord Orlando, the Grand Papacy's scrolls are running out! Tell me your difficulties, and I will go through fire and water for you!"
Veris was satisfied and said slowly, "It's not that I'm unwilling to help you. It's only right to help believers. But I went to the market and bought paper and a pen to write some practical and powerful magic spells for you. But as soon as I put pen to paper, the paper tore into four or five pieces, and the ink flew everywhere. It really bothers me."
Fikries: "The Papacy has the best—"
"Hmm? What are you trying to say, Felix?" Veris immediately interrupted the master foundry, his words filled with obvious threat.
Fikris: ...
He probably understood what the pope meant, but he spent his years dealing with ores and fire, and making paper more durable was probably beyond his capabilities...
"Never mind, I'll go find Finney instead."
Upon hearing the name of his arch-rival, Fikris immediately replied, "Don't worry, Lord Orlando, leave it to me. I will develop cheap and easy-to-use paper as soon as possible and then promote its use."
“Fikris, humanity will remember your kindness,” Veris said with satisfaction.
The magic circle went out, and the barrier was removed. Fekris frowned. He had never encountered anything like this before, but with the dwarves' outstanding creative talent, he believed that completing Veris's task was only a matter of time.
However, Veris probably won't give him much time.
Let's try to finish it within three days.
Fikris thought to himself, the midnight bells rang, and the bell ringer struck them ten times. The new archbishop would come to Fikris to lead the first two hours of prayers of the day.
The dwarf stood up, and the believers were led away from the hall by other people while the bells continued to ring. Now only members of the High Church remained in the hall.
Veris didn't intend to make the matter public, so the other bishops didn't receive the news either.
Sylvain did sense Veris's presence, but he was not currently in the High Papacy.
The next person to succeed Fekris was his arch-enemy, the High Elder of the Elven race, Finney.
The two people of different races stared at each other, sparks flying, but Fekris was in an exceptionally good mood today. After all, he had a mission to complete, and everything else had to be put aside. Solving the Pope's problems was the priority.
Looking at the dwarf's eerie smile, Finney thought to himself that the man's brain had been fried by fire. He expressionlessly stepped onto the stairs and walked to the archbishop's prayer area.
With just one glance, he noticed the traces of the magic circle having been activated.
He turned around abruptly, but Felix had already run off using the teleportation array, leaving him no chance to ask any questions.
Veris always felt that the Papacy was supporting a bunch of good-for-nothings, for a simple reason: these people loved to fight amongst themselves.
Bishops are usually dignified in public, but it's common for them to play pranks on each other behind each other's backs.
They also frequently challenged each other to fights.
Especially in recent years, with nothing major happening, this group of people are incredibly bored. They put on their guns and started fighting each other in the street. When Veris received the news, he thought he was raising a bunch of kids.
In short, Veris felt a little more at ease after assigning some tasks to the most unruly ones.
With Felix busy, Finney lost one of his rivals. With those two quiet, the selection of mages will soon begin, and those mages will be busy. The remaining members of the bishopric are not combative by nature.
Veris nodded silently.
After dealing with the matters of the Grand Papacy, he delivered the paper to the Mercury County Church. When traveling, he naturally arranged a false identity for himself, one that was neither too high nor too low, enough to make the people of the Mercury County Church take him seriously.
The storm outside had subsided, a new day had begun, the lamplight was nearly extinguished, the oil had dried up, and the attic had returned to darkness.
Veris worked late into the night before he finally had time to write the long poem he would be using in a few days.
This is about the Albion monster tide that happened a few days ago. Veris has known the mercenaries for many years, so writing about it is naturally very smooth. Their gleaming shields and constantly waving swords—with Nelson's information, he knows everyone's fighting habits like the back of his hand.
He had gotten used to having an irregular sleep schedule. Sometimes, like everyone else, he would wake up in the morning, finish his work shortly after nightfall, and go to sleep. But more often than not, he would work until he lost track of time.
Sylvain used to stand by his desk and ask him to go and rest.
After Sylvain left, no one could control him.
Veris wrote seven full pages, and his wrists ached a little. The rain stopped in the latter half of the night, and tomorrow would probably be sunny again. It seemed as if the storm had only brought a welcome rain to the fields.
He put down his pen, picked up a book, and pressed down the paper with the ink stains that were not completely dry.
Perhaps based on his daytime speculation, Veris found that he seemed to be thinking about Sylvain much more frequently than before.
"This is not a good sign," the bard muttered, rising to rest.
With less than two hours left until dawn, he planned to sleep until noon, as he had to go to work that evening. Albion's peace would continue until the mage selection.
Veris felt he still had a good time ahead of him.
A note from the author:
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