Chapter 89

This was important enough that when Hyland heard of their return, she decided to prioritize this meeting over dinner and listening to Myuri’s adventures. Canaan added, “I have come to the kingdom to mediate the conflict between the kingdom and the Church.” His blue eyes softened, and he smiled. The Church was an organization where the pope—the individual closest to God—sat at the top. The churches scattered across the world were bound together by a strict hierarchy, and they all submitted to the pope’s authority. Several cardinals acted as the pope’s assistants, and they were the ones who made decisions over the entire Church body from within the Holy See’s administrative body, the Curia. The Curia was, in essence, the heart of the Church. It was an institution that embodied the world’s faith. For Canaan, an individual who worked in such a place, to be in the kingdom was essentially an act of treason, just as the boy himself said. “To put it frankly, the Church is not a monolith.” Canaan described his position briefly. Hyland continued for him, delving into the boy’s family name. “The Jochaiem family is connected to the Church Father, who made contributions to the formation of the Church during the time of the ancient empire. Their pedigree is impeccable and includes many popes, though none hail specifically from the Jochaiem family itself. God himself vouches for his identity.” The pope, whom all the kings who ruled the world would kneel before, could be counted as one of the boy’s relatives. As Col tried to digest the idea, which felt completely removed from reality, Canaan smiled softly in response to Hyland’s explanation. “We are like the smaller branches that always come attached to a much larger tree. All my family is really good for in times like these is gaining the trust of feudal lords.” Due to the way he presented himself, what Canaan said did not come across as self-effacement or humility. There was a calm about him—a coolness, almost—that accepted reality without reservation, taking the situation and, instead of exaggerating or downplaying it, simply seeing it for what it was. And that did not seem to be an overestimation at all, either. “But smaller branches have their merits. If my betrayal were to be revealed, it could easily be brushed off as the independent decision of a foolish young boy who chose the wrong path out of ignorance.” Canaan understood himself as a sort of disposable pawn. Perhaps there was little sense of tragedy about that due to the Church’s many accounts of missionaries heading into pagan lands without any regard for their own lives. “The proposal comes from a genuine member of the Jochaiem family. If there is a way to resolve the conflict between the kingdom and the Church, then we will need to consider it seriously. Especially if what he says is true.” “What did he say?” Canaan nodded as he responded. “There are those within the Church who are losing their patience in the face of this stalemate. More and more people are hoping for war. If we simply stand by and allow things to run their course, I believe war will break out by the next harvest.” “Oh no…” Col knew that if the conflict escalated, the only thing that awaited them at the end of this path was open warfare. He wanted to avoid this if at all possible, which was why he had considered investigating the new continent, even though it sounded like something Myuri might have dreamed up. It seemed they did not have as much time as he thought. “Isn’t that weird, though?” Everyone present turned to look at Myuri. She did not spare Col and his shock one glance—despite her casual tone, her eyes were sharp and alert, boring into Canaan, who smiled in an almost emotionless manner. “You said mediate, right?” she asked. Canaan nodded. “Face is super important when it comes to arguments,” she continued. “No one would have any problems if everyone could just agree to stop fighting.” Col could not scold her for interjecting into the conversation because she was much more adept in the art of debate than he ever was. That, and he also remembered what Eve had said to him. That greedy merchant had said the dispute between the kingdom and the Church was not over lofty ideals like the righteous of faith, but something easier to understand, something more down-to-earth. “Tithes, right? They were originally used to raise money in the war against the pagans, but the Church keeps collecting them even though the war is over. And they’re using that money now as reward money for all the people who contributed to the war, right? But since the Church thinks of itself as a major player in the fight, they believe that getting rid of the tax would mean getting rid of their own reward. And that’s why they’re not listening. Isn’t that the gist of it?” Even though Myuri was not typically very eloquent, and often spoke with disdain about the Church, considering her heritage as a merchant and a wolf’s daughter, it was times like these that she was most composed. And her accurate summary of what Eve had proclaimed to be the bones of the matter had seemingly won Canaan over. “I was wondering why such a lovely young lady was present at this meeting,” Canaan said, his expression revealing his surprise. Col decided to ignore that Hyland seemed even prouder by the implied compliment than Myuri herself. “But yes, you are correct,” Canaan continued. “It is a problem of…Yes. It is a problem of face,” he said, his tone astonished. The kingdom insisted that the tithes should be abolished since the war was over, yet the Church insisted that the money was being used as remuneration for the war—not only did both arguments have a certain degree of logic to them, but resolving the conflict required making sure that neither side lost face in the process. That was why Col had turned his attention away from the tithes, where one side would lose and one side would gain in their abolishment, to the new continent, which would only bring more riches to the table. He believed that rather than fighting over limited tax revenue, everyone would benefit if they linked arms under the banner of cooperation once again and worked together to acquire new land. Was it possible that Canaan, too, had set his sights on the new continent? But just as that thought crossed his mind, Myuri spoke up. “Problems of face are complicated. And yet here you are, saying you can get everyone to make up peacefully. I just have to know what kind of evil plot you’ve cooked up.” She specifically used the words evil plot because what she really wanted was to check whether Canaan was planning on taking advantage of her foolish little lamb. It was wording that would normally be intolerable for an envoy of peace who had exposed himself to danger by venturing into enemy territory, but Canaan responded by letting his fake smile drop. A boyish look, one more befitting his age, quickly took its place. “Journeys bring us to people we could never have dreamed of. I am truly thankful to God.” He beamed. “We have a plan in mind, of course. Naturally, we have no intentions of unilaterally compromising and capitulating to the kingdom’s demands. For the sake of the Church’s authority, you see.” Myuri had sniffed out the makings of a plot; her eyes gleamed brighter, and she canted her head to the side. It was as though she had found prey deep in the forest and was listening to it walk with both sets of ears. “However, the victory we have in mind does not align with the intentions of the mainstream factions, which includes the pope. It is in this regard that I believe our faction and the kingdom share a common objective.” Myuri furrowed her brow and turned to look at Col, as though she had questions for him. It was perhaps because she did not know the Church well. Col, however, was not thinking of Myuri. He was shocked. “I assume the pope does not agree with this?” If that were true, then Canaan’s self-evaluation as a traitor would not be an exaggeration at all. “All the powerful cardinals are ready to stand firm and oppose the kingdom until the bitter end. Additionally, the pope, with his broad insight and magnanimous heart, will hear what they have to say and pass fair judgment in kind.” Even Col, the one subject to Myuri’s frequent teasing for being gullible, could not take Canaan’s words at face value. Cardinals ranked just below the pope, but whoever sat in the position of pope was always someone who had been chosen from among the cardinals, so their relationship was not as simple as a bond of ruler and vassal. They were, at times, his vassals, but at other times his equals. If what Col had heard was to be believed, there were even times the cardinals were the pope’s puppet masters. In essence, there were bound together by a common destiny, and it seemed the current pope was somewhat weak compared to the current group of cardinals. “What is your definition of victory, then?” Col asked. Canaan narrowed his eyes slightly and said, “Purging the Church.” “…Purging?” “Yes. Think of us as inquisitors.” It seemed as though Canaan was expecting Myuri to frown and for Col to catch his breath. He flicked the sleeves on his robes and adjusted himself in his seat. “But what we are cracking down on are not contradictory ideas about God, but the Church’s discipline. Especially those giving in to the temptation of gold.” Canaan had introduced himself as one of the archive workers of the Curia. There, they held documents detailing all of the Church’s activities, and Col had even heard that people had gotten injured before due to how large and mazelike its halls were. Which meant a certain type of document was most certainly mixed in among all the other types of literature. “Do you manage the ledgers, then?” The Church, spread over such a wide area, boasted a massive income, and that was not just limited to donations. At the center of the whirlpool of money was the heart of the Church—the Curia. “The accounting office is a part of the archive division. They record the flow of funds throughout the entirety of the Church and serve God by directing that flow toward righteous causes. But much like actual rivers, it is not so easy to change the flow of money. Even if we attempt to build a bank, it is doomed to crumble eventually. All we have been able to do is watch the floodwaters sully beautiful land with its mud.” Canaan placed his hand on the large desk in the office and leaned forward. “But then you appeared, Twilight Cardinal. You are the one who can right the Church’s wrongs.” When Canaan looked right at him, Col’s words failed him. Hyland spoke up instead. “You have exposed the corruption and the wicked accumulation of wealth in churches across several cities, but not in a manner that has expressed any contempt for the Church. In fact, facing the people in such a manner has only restored the people’s respect for the Church, whose reputation was in tatters.” “And we found hope in you,” Canaan said. That easy smile of his no longer graced his face—his expression was one of hardened resolve. But he became aware of his excitement; he suddenly cleared his throat and reclined in his seat. Hyland then spoke again, as though willing to entertain them while Canaan regained his composure. “We in the kingdom worked with clergy who stood against corruption in the Holy See once, before this conflict with the Church. As you know, there were more than a handful of churches within the kingdom that wielded absolute control over matters of trade and were wrongfully accumulating wealth.” “I reached out to you, Heir Hyland, because of that history.” That meant Canaan’s proposal was not something that had suddenly occurred to him and he prepared in a fit of desperation; it was an extension of work that had already been underway in the Church’s long history. “But the riches hoarded by corrupted clergy are more often than not treated as having greater weight than the word of God. The glimmer of gold charms a great many. We may advise them to use the donations collected from faithful believers in a proper manner, but all too often our words are nothing more than the buzzing of a fly in their ears. And because we practice God’s teachings and try to live honest lives, we ourselves do not have any gold—the weapon of the vulgar world. No one will listen to us without the weight of gold backing our word.” Col found himself nodding vigorously because he, too, advocated for a life of simplicity and frugality, only to be constantly waved away by the girl beside him. Attempts to live righteously only earned him jeers for being honest to a fault by the common folk. Even if Canaan’s worldly manner was nothing but a well-honed negotiation technique, his anger that Col caught glimpses of seemed genuine. “Once the war with the pagans came to an end, the large amount of income the tithes pulled in put shimmering coin into the hands of corrupt people who did not used to have it. Many of them used that as leverage to unjustly spread and maintain their influence. Not only are they unwilling to let go of this source of income, but many are attempting to exacerbate the conflict between the kingdom and the Church so that the ensuing war will make the gold in their coffers shine even brighter.” Col recalled the face of an evil merchant who had been plotting to make a pretty penny by profiting off war. Any opportunity to make money would always draw in the worst kinds of people. But after hearing that much, even he began to see what Canaan and his people were hoping to accomplish. “So abolishing the tithes will allow the conflict with the kingdom to end peaceably, while cutting off the flow of funds will allow you to weaken and eventually get rid of the corrupted individuals with too much power.” At a glance, it seemed like the Church would be making great concessions to the kingdom and eventually conceding. But according to Canaan’s principles, the Church would actually be achieving victory. That was the plan. A few moments later, there came the loud clatter of a chair moving across the floor. “Lose the battle, win the war!” Myuri, who loved tales of battle, had a soft spot for things that sounded like stratagems. Canaan blinked in reaction to her excitement, but it was not long before a delighted smile crossed his face. “It is thanks to your actions that many have begun to question the flow of gold within the Church. Though it is only temporary, there are a number of people who are starting to hesitate drawing water from the river. This is our only chance to rebuild the banks to hold back the raging waters and use them to irrigate the fields of proper faith.” This was a lifesaving idea for Canaan and the other archivists, whose honesty meant they were at a disadvantageous position. Moreover, it was an ideal outcome for the kingdom, which desperately wanted a way to decisively settle matters with the Church. But there was one thing that bothered Col. “I understand the idea in essence, but…” When he tried to picture what sort of role he might serve within this plan, nothing came to mind. “Is it your hope that I will expose the Church’s corruption on the mainland as well? I, uh, strongly agree with your objectives, but I cannot imagine I am the most suited person for this job.” As she righted her chair, Myuri fixed him with an exasperated look, one that said she could not believe he was being so cowardly and voicing aloud his lack of self-confidence again. He couldn’t completely deny the accusation, but he had a more realistic reason for thinking this way. “The Knights of Saint Kruza are doing precisely that within the kingdom right now.” “Oh,” Myuri said, her tone of astonishment making her sound somewhat silly. It was not long ago that Col and Myuri had come across the company of knights after they had lost their home. And after many twists and turns, they regained their honor and a knightly mission. Their role was to expose the wrongs of the much-loathed Church wherever they may find them in the kingdom. “The knights were even once considered the pope’s right-hand warriors. Wouldn’t leaving this task to them garner less resistance from within the Church?” “In a way, you are correct.” Canaan, however, hesitated in his response. The one who answered instead was Myuri, plopping down in her chair after righting it. “Yeah, that’s true. Those knights are amazing enough to be living legends. But I guess that’s why they can’t do it.” Col didn’t quite follow, but Canaan quickly agreed with her. “That is correct. If the pope were to give them orders, they would obey, as is their duty—even if he commanded them to give up on the correct course of action.” If the relationship between loyal knights and their lord had to be described as right or wrong, it would most certainly be considered right. And exposing the wrongs of the Church on the mainland would occasionally put the knights in a position where they would be targeting the coffers of powerful people. Col had a good guess of what might happen in those situations. “We must destroy the vice of putting money before God, and correct the thinking of the pope and the cardinals. But we cannot accomplish this alone. We need external pressure.” The enemy of my enemy is my friend—Col had heard this logic before. Hyland followed Canaan’s line of thinking and said, “But that external pressure cannot be us. If the kingdom were to pressure the Church into cleaning house under the banner of righteous faith, that could easily spark wider conflict.” Hyland was right. And rushing into an all-out war was not something the kingdom wanted; thus, the stalemate continued. “I don’t think the kingdom and the Church simply stating their positions will help relieve tensions at all. Just as the young lady here said, it’s an unfortunate problem of face. That’s why we have to trust this to a third party.” A third party? That was something Col had not foreseen at all. As he sat there in bewilderment, Hyland stood from her chair and made her way to a nearby grand bookshelf and pulled out a book. It was not yet bound, simply held together by string—Col recognized it. “The help we need the most will come from the common folk, the ones who have learned of the proper faith written in this book.” The thick sheaf of parchments Hyland had produced was the vernacular translation of the scripture, rewritten with the help and knowledge of many renowned scholars under Hyland’s guidance so that the common people could understand. “The common-language translation,” Canaan said, seeing where Hyland’s talk was leading. “One book can provide so many people with knowledge, far beyond what one fervent preacher is capable of. In truth, the abridged version you and Heir Hyland distributed to the people in Atiph has already been copied so many times and received a great reception in other cities. If we could produce a complete edition and then spread it on an even grander scale that reaches across the entire continent, then surely even the pope will not be able to ignore calls for change.” Reading God’s teachings in the common tongue would make it perfectly clear that the modern Church had succumbed to fraud. Once that happened, more and more people would begin to ask the Church to purge evil from its ranks. It made perfect sense. After all, Col had also been wishing to do the same. But there was a reason why things had not progressed since Atiph. “Col, I regret not spreading the translation of the scripture far and wide, even though I had you translate the entire thing.” Hyland fixed her eyes on Col, then briefly closed them, as though bowing her head in apology. “The king has determined that we cannot allow tensions with the Church to worsen any more than they are now, so I’ve had no choice but to shelve the plan to distribute it on the mainland for now. Personally speaking, I don’t want to risk all-out war with the Church, either. But the reason I’ve not been able to keep it going in secret is because I cannot raise the funds and workers required to copy such a massive amount of text without the help of the royal court. It is, realistically speaking, impossible.” She was cloaked in despondency as she lightly bit her lip even as she smiled, as though cursing her powerlessness. “So the most we can do is wait for those whose interests are piqued by the text to take it upon themselves to make their own copies and spread them on their own. And unfortunately, what we distributed in Atiph was an incomplete version.” “So…you are suggesting we have Canaan take over the business of making and distributing new copies?” Neither the kingdom nor the Church had been able to find any places for compromise, nor had either discovered a way to decisively defeat the other. So the king of Winfiel judged that escalating tensions any further would only lead to war. As such, he decided to curb direct action and simply wait for the vernacular scripture to spread on its own. But those within the Church, like Canaan, wouldn’t be restricted by those concerns if they decided to distribute copies themselves. As that thought crossed Col’s mind, a vague smile crossed Canaan’s face, as though to say he did not completely agree. “We did think about doing that. But we have faced the very same problems as Heir Hyland. It is a very realistic problem.” At that, Col recalled what he had seen at the harbor not long ago. Myuri needed to buy quills and paper from Eve in order to keep writing her tall tales. “Is it a matter of cost?” “It is. We would have to hire a cohort one thousand strong to circulate enough copies to cover the entirety of the mainland. Even then, it would be incredibly difficult to carry out such a large-scale transcription job without the pope or the opposing cardinals noticing. Accomplishing such a feat on the mainland is beyond our power. “The scripture is so long and dense. It would take one experienced transcriber months to make one copy. Longer, if we want to bind it properly. And we’d need dozens if we want to distribute them at every major port town along the coast. We’d need a hundred, maybe two hundred, if we want to include all the biggest towns inland as well.” Myuri began to count on her fingers, but she soon lost track and stared blankly at her hand. The sheer scale of the operation was also far beyond Col’s imagining. And since he doubted Hyland alone would be covering the cost, he found his next question leaving his mouth without much thought. “Are we asking the king to act as an intermediary?” Nordstone had gone to the royal court to negotiate so he might achieve his dream of setting sail for the western continent. Their plan was a bit more realistic than his. “Well, no…I haven’t spoken of this to His Majesty,” Hyland said, her face hardening. “There are many in the royal court who have ties to the corrupt clergy within the Church. We will have to proceed alone.” Canaan had called himself a traitor to the Church. And in a similar manner, Hyland, too, was disobeying the king’s orders. But if Canaan and his fellow archivists were to distribute copies of their own volition, then it would not be an issue between the kingdom and the Church; it would be purely an internal matter. Perhaps that was how he had convinced himself to take this course of action. And Col was painfully sympathetic to Hyland’s desire to proceed with the plan. He never could have imagined that they would have an ally within the Church, and one who was determined to rid the organization of its corruption at that—he could only see this as a mission from God. “His Majesty can’t rely on the court nobles’ finances, of course. That’s why we’ll need to do whatever we can to make as many copies of the scripture as possible.” What Canaan had imagined was using the Twilight Cardinal’s name to gather as many helpers as possible. But that would only inform the entire world who exactly was planning to distribute the translated scripture. The masses would not see this as the Church reforming itself, which would only fan the flames of impending war. Col thought he might find himself following the logic in circles, but it was clear that Canaan had come to them because he had found a different way forward. But it was about to lead him down a path he never would have imagined. “Sir Col, there is a specific technology that has been stamped out because the Church deemed it heretical. But it can make the impossible, possible. It can make miracles happen.” “A technology?” Col was not the only one surprised by what Canaan said. Myuri, the girl with a keen interest in legendary swords and the like, had caught a whiff of adventure. “There are two reasons we have come to the kingdom. The first is to offer our assistance—you were the ones who translated the scripture into the vernacular, after all. And the second…” Canaan took a deep breath before continuing, “…is to revive this technology the Church banned. There should be an artisan in the kingdom who has learned these techniques.” If Myuri’s ears were out, the fur on them would most certainly be standing on end—Hyland kept the girl in the corner of her eye as she said, “The workshop that invented this technology originally existed on the mainland, but charges of heresy apparently forced it to close shop. Inquisitors were dispatched afterward to arrest the scattered artisans of the craft, and most were caught. However, one managed to escape.” Myuri’s eyes, gleaming in anticipation, were completely focused on Hyland. And Hyland seemed nervous, though she knew she had no reason to be. “The inquisitors searched high and low for the final artisan. By the time they received word that the fugitive had gotten on a boat toward the kingdom, the conflict between the kingdom and the Church had already become quite grave. It has been several years since the inquisitors gave up the hunt. That’s when Canaan and the other archivists discovered those records.” “That’s correct. As we were poring over the inquisitors’ records, we discovered that final artisan is still free.” At the time, they had likely not expected the conflict would last so long; they stood down for what they believed would be a moment, only for their search to be delayed for years. The curiosity of the wolf girl beside Col seemed about to explode, so before her ears and tail could burst forth, he got to the heart of the question: “What technology is this, by the way?” A taboo art, one the Church attempted to completely erase from existence. An image of the metallic globe he saw in Nordstone’s manor flashed in his mind. Canaan took a short, nervous breath, then began to speak.