Shiro filled me in after the incident yesterday.
This church worshipped the God who created the sacred artifacts thousands of years ago. It was a monotheistic belief system, although its adherents were said to worship those artifacts themselves. The humanity of this otherworld had been constantly subject to the threat of the Demon King, but each time had been able to resist it owing to the power of the sacred artifacts. Among the past generations of heroes who had defeated the Demon King, many of them wielded these artifacts as their weapons. The priests of this religion were able to interpret the nature of the artifacts and perform maintenance on them, and they were skilled in the art of manipulating the mana inside the body to heal others. In other words, priests had been like backup for the heroes’ fights against the Demon King.
Reminds me of those priestly characters you always see in Dr*gon Quest RPGs that heal the main character.
The church became the most well-known spiritual pillar for humanity in this world. It was associated with holidays and events in which people prayed to God, and wedding ceremonies were held in its houses of worship—it seemed a lot like how some Japanese people celebrated Christmas or had their weddings in a chapel. And apparently, this church had even held some level of influential power over the kingdom’s politics and courts.
According to Shiro, “The previous king adopted the Japanese constitution’s separation of church and state and severed the church’s ties to the royal family. I have heard the religion has been in decline since then.”
The previous king was Princess Ecstasia’s father. He was fondly remembered as the developer of the Copy-Paste Spell that brought Japanese things to this world and as the ruler who brought prosperity to the kingdom. The very same had also invited resentment from others. But he was no longer of this world, having died of exhaustion after playing too many eroge…
“Evening had begun to fall as we offered up our prayers to God,” the high priest said. “And as we heard the soft pattering of rain, I noticed a strange sound—a kind of creaking, like something beginning to crack. And then the church building was hit with an intense impact. The brick walls and ceilings were smashed through with that unrefined material you call ‘concrete,’ and a great deal of debris rained down on me and my congregation.”
All present were completely absorbed in listening to his story.
“As you are all aware, I am in possession of the Holy Scourge, the oldest sacred artifact which has been handed down by successive high priests for over three thousand years. In the face of this danger, I decided to fight. And I protected my congregation from the debris that threatened to rain down upon them—isn’t that correct?”
The church members sitting in the gallery answered: “The high priest’s words are right and just.”
They stood out in their plain, white robes. The men wore a kind of hat like a monk might wear, and the women wore a hood that resembled a nun’s habit.
“What happened to Cumba was ill fortune. At the time of the incident, he happened to have gone to the restroom and was closer to the area where the building collapsed. Once the ceiling began to collapse, an overwhelming amount of debris fell and smashed that same restroom. Cumba…was summoned by God.”
Not long after the building collapsed onto the church, the roof caved in. What he described was consistent with the scene we had seen yesterday outside of the tavern.
“Alba is Cumba’s older brother. Although I tried to stop him, he ran to his brother in the restroom and was himself buried alive. Using the power of the artifact, I was able to save him from the rubble, but alas, he was gravely injured. His entire body was covered in wounds, and even now he treads the boundary between life and death…”
The courtroom was silent. No one dared to speak up when such a heavy subject was being discussed.
It’s like our everyday lives collapsed.
When we walked up to the tavern, everything had been going great. It pained me to think how easily hope had disappeared from our peaceful lives.
“You have yet to state your demands.”
I heard my sister’s firm voice. I could sense her eyes on the plaintiff, though she didn’t move an inch.
“We just have to tell you what the high priest wants, correct?” said Tamamo.
Having seemingly lost interest given how simply the trial had reached a conclusion, Tamamo was now sitting down in her seat looking bored. On the other side of the plaintiff’s table, I could only see the upper half of her face as she slumped back against her chair.
“I believe that isn’t something I alone can state,” said the high priest. He looked up to the ceiling, then frowned at the judge and the gallery in succession. “The victims of this incident are not only myself and my congregation. The entire kingdom has now become unsafe. Everyone—you feel it, do you not?”
The heavy atmosphere turned cold.
“We don’t know when the next copy-pasted object will collapse. Even this courthouse, or the many skyscrapers surrounding the royal palace, or the shops crowding the streets of Akihabara, could collapse at any moment, and thousands of precious lives could be undeservingly stolen away, crushed beneath the falling rubble.”
My breath caught in my throat. With his words, any and all sense of safety disappeared.
“Perhaps this is God’s punishment toward the current monarchy for its preoccupation with Japanese anime and the like. Oh, how deep these sins run.”
“Plaintiff, there is a logical leap in your argument,” the judge warned, quick as an arrow.