209. Shoot Towards the Emperor (1)
“Hey, Your Excellency. Aren’t we on our way to victory?”
Kirhas, humming cheerfully under the warm spring sunlight, seemed to gradually lose her composure under the intense gaze of the fully armed foreign knights who had been following them throughout the journey.
“Really, they’re too much. No one seems to care about what Your Excellency has been through or how you managed to survive.”
“Since when do clerics care about worldly fame?”
“It’s not about fame. Don’t they owe Your Excellency at least one life debt?”
In response to Kirhas’s words, Abel, who was riding alongside her, gently replied.
“Kirhas. There’s no way to prove it.”
“Aren’t you angry? After risking your life to save the world, this is the treatment you get!”
“Are you angry, Fernandez?”
As Abel said with a laugh, Fernandez shrugged his shoulders. Before getting angry, his mind was already a mess.
He already understood the concerns of the secular monarchs. After issuing a military draft and even declaring a holy war, they had responded by depleting their military resources, only for the Vaitas Church to suddenly fall silent. This was no ordinary matter.
Why would they do such a thing? Politicians are more sensitive to calculations than anyone else, and they are a breed that trusts no one but themselves.
Therefore, the moment doubt arises, they will first consider the most threatening assumption: ‘Are they depleting our national defense to support another country?’
By now, such discussions must be ongoing in the governments of various nations. Discussions about the church’s interference in political power. And then, they will turn all their intelligence resources outward.
Fernandez would have done the same. And the same would go for the monarchs of other royal families. So rather than feeling wronged or resentful about this treatment…
‘I need to find a way to use this.’
Could it be that those guys have joined hands with the church to expand their influence? This kind of suspicion is widespread throughout the Eastern Kingdom Alliance. After all, the Eastern Kingdom Alliance was not formed because they trusted each other, but rather as a loose coalition with the meaning of ‘let’s stop fighting each other now.’
Just like the moment when Phaeirn and the Dane Royal Family were in opposition, the current kingdom alliance is so sensitive that they could point their swords at each other at any moment. This means that every move the church makes from now on could potentially trigger a war.
At this moment, just before losing all secular influence and reputation, is actually the time when the church can exert its maximum influence on civilized society.
-Clop, clop, clop.
Lost in thought, the horse’s hooves clattered. Merlin Port and the Inquisition Office were only three days away on foot, so the journey wasn’t long.
“Yaaawn.”
Freya stretched long and hard. The ornate crown adorning her hair trembled slightly. She looked around brightly and said,
“Well, anyway. Mortals! Isn’t it a fine day! The south is so warm. I really like it.”
“We’re planning to go somewhere not so warm now.”
“Are you saying we’re going back to the north?”
“The atmosphere might be similar. Welcome to the Inquisition Office.”
-Screech.
With those words, at the end of the road. The warning sign hanging at the entrance of the mountain path twisted and tilted slightly.
-Warning. You are entering Papal Territory.
-Arrest may result in burning at the stake.
-Saint Bartholomew Monastery.
Now feeling like he was back home, Fernandez shrugged his shoulders and passed by Freya, who was slightly frightened, and stepped forward.
* * *
-Booooom—!!
-Ding, ding, ding.
When Fernandez spotted the outer walls of the monastery, a long horn sound and the ringing of bells spread from the direction of the monastery. Now it looked like a proper victory parade.
The massive iron gate creaked open, revealing a line of monks standing inside. As Fernandez passed through, the monks silently stamped the ground with a thud.
This was their way of welcoming him. A very sincere one. At least among the monks who knew how to be as quiet as Heretica and Enmagika.
“Brother!! Oh, my God! Brother has returned!!”
“I always believed! Vaitas has watched over us! Macto!”
The monks who didn’t know how to be quiet came running, shouting loudly. With each step, the ground shook violently.
“Ugh.”
Freya, standing beside him, let out a displeased groan. Fernandez, not wanting to be crushed along with his horse, quickly dismounted. At the same time, he was swarmed by the monks.
“Brothers. I’m happy to see you too, but could you calm down a bit…”
“Praise the holiness of the Lord!!”
“Oh, brother. Let me see. Are you hurt? Two arms, two legs, and a head! You’re intact!”
“That doesn’t necessarily mean I’m intact.”
“Hahaha! Your tongue is intact too! Unbelievable! Is it true that you slayed the Great Demon without a single wound?”
“I’m worried! I need to check if your insides are intact too! Take him to the outdoor hymn hall!”
“Twenty sets should be easy! This is a test of purity against corruption!”
A cruel verification method befitting an Inquisition Officer. Fernandez grumbled as he pushed away the swarming Diemonica. He clapped his hands and laughed at the Diemonica causing a ruckus.
“Now, brothers. On my way here, I saw the Pope’s seal. Is this really okay?”
“Uh, well.”
“Well.”
Even for Diemonica. No, especially for Diemonica who have reconstructed their bodies by infusing divinity, they are even more obedient to the authority of the Pope, the representative of Vaitas.
The Diemonica quickly regained their composure and took a few steps back.
“The Pope is waiting in the grand cathedral.”
“The Monastery Head is also there. Ah, Brother Zephis. The Monastery Head has ordered you to attend as well.”
“That was my intention.”
Zephis patted Fernandez’s shoulder a couple of times and strode forward. Fernandez exchanged a worried glance with Abel and followed Zephis into the grand cathedral.
* * *
“Disarm.”
At the end of the grand cathedral’s corridor, in front of the large door leading to the chapel, a cathedral knight looked down at him with a high-handed tone. Beneath the gleaming helmet visor, blue eyes flashed.
“Personal armament is encouraged in the Inquisition Office, isn’t it?”
“Not under the direct command of the Pope. Bishop Sernerd.”
“Do you know that I am Fernandez Sernerd, a second-class Inquisition Officer, and a bishop-level figure?”
Fernandez glared coldly at the knight. The knight hesitated, looking somewhat uneasy. Fernandez smirked and threw his sword belt to the knight.
“Take it.”
As the knight reached to grab Fernandez’s sword belt, Fernandez…
His fist struck the knight’s helmet like a thunderbolt. With a loud clang of steel, the knight staggered and stepped back.
“Don’t look at an Inquisition Officer like that, cathedral knight. Unless you want to be burned at the stake.”
“How dare you…!”
The knight, holding his ringing head, roughly placed his hand on the sword hilt. Watching this, Zephis chuckled and grabbed the knight’s arm.
“If you draw that, you’re dead, brother. And if Diemonica really wanted to attack, do you think your head would still be intact? Brother Fernandez. Calm down. This is the Pope’s personal affair.”
“Yes, brother.”
Fernandez took the sword belt from the knight, slung it over his shoulder, and grabbed the doorknob. The heavy door of the chapel slid open, revealing a sanctuary with a purple carpet.
Near the podium sat the cardinals, the Pope, and the Monastery Head, watching them. Zephis stepped back slightly, and Fernandez walked straight through them to the Pope.
“Second-class Inquisition Officer, Diemonica Fernandez Sernerd, greets His Holiness.”
“Oh, no need for formalities, young brother! This old man came here himself after reading your report, but it seems I’ve caused a disturbance before even recovering from my fatigue!”
As Fernandez knelt on one knee, the Pope laughed and helped him up. Beorn took the weapons from Fernandez, briefly inspected them, and smiled quietly.
“The Holy Sword is intact, Brother Fernandez.”
“Fortunately, it wasn’t broken.”
“Haha, may I see it drawn?”
“Of course.”
Fernandez bowed to the Pope and the cardinals, then stepped back and drew the sword. The Keyblade’s light flared brightly, illuminating the dim chapel.
As the Pope and cardinals marveled, Fernandez spun the sword and plunged it into the ground before stepping back.
“Indeed, there’s no doubt about its purity!”
“Amen.”
The cardinals made the sign of the cross and bowed their heads. The Pope, with a radiant smile, offered Fernandez a seat.
“Last time, I told you why I trust you. Do you remember?”
“You said reports are approved only after cross-verifying various regional data, Your Holiness?”
“Correct. But here’s the problem. In the Great Wilderness, we had many eyes. Given the scale of the incident, it was easy to gather evidence from all over… But this time, in the north, it’s a bit… difficult.”
Strictly speaking, the north isn’t under the jurisdiction of the Temple of the Gods. It’s a society beyond civilization, where warriors who enjoy sea raids and war gather across distant seas.
Thus, the only means to verify Fernandez’s report were Zephis and a few Diemonica dispatched to the region. And at the crucial moment, Fernandez threw himself into the Hell’s Gateway.
If that’s true, and Fernandez returned without any signs of corruption… The Pope smiled warmly and said,
“Did you truly slay the Great Demon?”
“Yes, Your Holiness. I swear by the Lord’s name, it is true.”
“May the Lord bless you…!!”
Pope Paul made the sign of the cross and exclaimed in awe. In his long life, he had faced countless events and terrible disasters, but never had he experienced such a glorious day.
“The world owes you a debt.”
“You flatter me.”
“And I myself owe you a debt.”
“…What?”
Paul paused, choosing his words, then gestured to a cardinal. The cardinal beside him handed over a document.
“What is this?”
“How much do you know about the Imperial throne?”
Fernandez flipped through the report. It contained detailed records of the Empire’s high nobles, dukes, and the imperial family’s structure. The level of detail was such that leaking it could be considered treason.
-This is getting interesting.
‘The Pope… that old fox.’
Fernandez remembered his past life. Pope Paul of the Vaitas Church. A man blessed by the gods, granted eternal life. A strategist of the Temple of the Gods, who had clashed with him in the final war. A politician who united the fragmented forces of the Temple of the Gods…
His intentions were undoubtedly good. He had thwarted Faijashi, who had allied with demons to destroy the world. But it was also he who sent the Sky Knight to assassinate Aria.
Faijashi and Paul were alike in many ways. Both were masters at identifying and exploiting their enemies’ weaknesses.
And now, he was suddenly handing over top-secret imperial documents, amidst the storm of the Eastern Kingdom Alliance…
‘Is he aiming for the Emperor’s election rights…?’
The Imperial throne isn’t inherited. That’s why the Empire could maintain its vast influence from the east to the north and the central continent.
No one can guarantee that all descendants of a single bloodline will become great emperors. Even under a tyrant, a wise ruler can emerge.
Thus, the ‘Emperor’s Election Rights.’ The wise former Emperor, lamenting his descendants’ incompetence, granted the election rights to the seven most powerful lords. Along with the Emperor’s own bloodline, eight families could nominate the next Emperor.
The elected Emperor serves for life… But regardless, the succession of the throne is a highly sensitive issue in imperial politics…
‘With the war against Kirzat ending in failure, imperial authority is at its lowest.’
If the seven dukes unanimously agree, the Emperor can be deposed, and a succession council can be convened.
Fernandez looked up at the Pope. The Pope smiled enigmatically, looking down at him.
“Speak. Who do you wish to be the next Emperor?”
“…Haha. Hahaha!”
The Pope suddenly burst into laughter and grabbed Fernandez’s shoulder. He exclaimed with joy,
“Come to the Papacy after this is over.”
“…What?”
“This matter must remain unofficial, and it must succeed. And if it does…”
He whispered to Fernandez with conviction,
“After I’m gone, my seat will be yours.”
“…Your Holiness!!”
Behind him, the cardinals screamed. A sharp-faced cardinal stepped forward and shouted at the Pope,
“This is illegal!”
“Priests are not adept at politics. Diplomacy is no different from battle, and politics is like war. The ability to read the situation isn’t something learned; it’s a gift. And one who has such a gift, chosen by the Lord, and who has slain the Great Demon… Is there anyone more suitable?”
“Brother Fernandez… is indeed an outstanding talent. But Your Holiness, his brilliance shines brightest when wielded as the Lord’s sword.”
“That remains to be seen.”
The Pope looked at the Keyblade embedded in the chapel floor, emitting a faint light. The Church’s relic was pristine and pure, without a speck of dust.
“Have you forgotten who first wielded the Keyblade?”
“…”
Saint Gregory. The saint who defeated the evil dragon that nested where the Papacy now stands, and laid the foundation of the Church. The protector who defended the faith with a single sword during the era when great evil roamed the earth… The cardinals closed their eyes and bowed their heads.
“I believe you will succeed, Inquisition Officer Fernandez Sernerd.”
“I will follow your command.”
Fernandez smiled and responded to the Pope’s words. The Pope and the saint shared the same smile. The two were very much alike.
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