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◈ Paladin of a Ruined Order

Chapter 54

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Oracle

When Elbridge arrived at the temple, a plump middle-aged woman greeted him.

"Archbishop. You're back?"

"It's been a while. I hope you've been well?"

"Yes, thanks to you."

The woman's name was Matilda. She was a freelance administrative priest Elbridge had hired before leaving Solenion.

A freelance administrative priest was someone who handled the paperwork of a small church for a fee. Of course, this profession hadn't existed two hundred years ago.

Back when Elbridge had been the only member of his church, there'd been no need for a freelance priest.

But now the Order of the Rusted Shield needed one badly. Only a few hundred believers, sure, but eastern Solenion had believers now, and you couldn't show them an empty temple full of dust.

Elbridge set down his bags and asked, "Matilda-ssi. Nothing unusual happened while I was away?"

"Well... All of Solenion's been in an uproar over one thing or another, but nothing much happened to our church."

"I see. Have we lost many believers in the meantime?"

Matilda answered right away.

"After the last Grand Festival, believers were a little over a thousand, weren't they? Right now it's probably fewer than that. Maybe... seven, eight hundred left, I'd guess."

"Eight hundred?"

The Goddess of the Rusted Shield seemed drawn in by Matilda's estimate.

Of course, Elbridge couldn't understand that reaction at all.

'...Is she trying to deny reality?'

The goddess, who could know the real numbers more accurately than anyone, had no reason to get excited over a paid worker's guess.

Whatever the truth was, the number of Order of the Rusted Shield believers actually living in Solenion was probably closer to three hundred than eight hundred.

"Matilda-ssi. There's a chance the number's even lower than that, isn't there?"

"Well, maybe. But don't worry about it too much. Worrying won't solve anything."

"Hmm..."

"Is there some particular reason you're asking?"

"It's about the seats."

Elbridge answered without thinking much of it, and Matilda burst out laughing on reflex.

"Pfft."

"..."

There was no malice in Matilda's laugh, though. Just a reflex.

Matilda quickly composed herself and apologized.

"Ahem, ahem. Sorry about that."

"...It's fine."

"Archbishop. You know that ever since the Chief God looked into neighboring dimensions and introduced the council system, the number of heavenly seats has been fixed at three hundred, right?"

"Yes, I know."

"Out of countless churches, only a tiny handful hold even a single seat. Frankly speaking, even if the Order of the Rusted Shield gathered tens of times its current believers, it still couldn't take a seat."

Naturally, Matilda knew nothing about what had happened in the mountain city of Barquntol.

What would Matilda's reaction be if she found out Elbridge had absorbed over half of the Order of the Iron Anvil's forces?

Of course, Elbridge had no intention of telling her that story.

It would take too long to explain, and Matilda almost certainly wouldn't believe him anyway. Though, admittedly, he was a little curious what her stunned face would look like.

Matilda spoke calmly.

"I've heard the High Paladin and Archbishop is an excellent knight. And you're young. I'm sure you'll accomplish a great deal. But some things in this world just take time. Church growth is the classic example."

"I suppose you're right."

"Right now, I think it's better to steady your heart by facing the ordinary majority instead of rushing while staring up at some dazzling height. The bigger the expectations, the bigger the disappointment."

"Understood. By the way, you said Solenion had been in an uproar while I was gone. What was that about?"

"All sorts of things happened. Rumors about demonic beasts came in almost every day, and a demon even showed up..."

The word demon made Elbridge's ears prick up.

"A demon appeared?"

"Yes. You've heard about how everyone in Dickens Viscounty vanished this spring, haven't you? Turns out that was a demon's doing. And not long ago, a demon showed up in a village not far from Solenion and caused a huge mess. What is the world coming to..."

"Could I hear a little more detail about the demon?"

"I don't know the details myself. The mood around it was so heavy I didn't feel like prying."

"I understand."

Fortunately, Elbridge had a neighbor he could ask.

The Order of the Bloodstained Spear, right next door.

Though as it turned out, Elbridge didn't need to go looking for them. Before he'd even finished unpacking, someone walked straight into the temple.

"Elbridge!"

He turned and saw Felix, his left arm wrapped in bandages.

"I heard a rumor you were back, and it turns out it was true."

"That's even spreading as a rumor now?"

"Of course it is. Where were you off to for so long, leaving the temple empty like that?"

"Something came up somewhere a bit far off."

The Goddess of the Rusted Shield's reaction was less than warm.

"Hmph."

The Goddess of the Rusted Shield wasn't particularly fond of Felix.

His remark from before, calling the Order of the Rusted Shield a "shipwreck," had left a deep wound in the goddess's heart.

The Goddess of the Rusted Shield delivered an oracle.

"Elbridge. If your goddess has one dream, it's to outpace the Order of the Bloodstained Spear's seat count, just once."

Though as far as Elbridge could tell, that dream had little chance of coming true this year.

The Order of the Bloodstained Spear already held two seats.

Felix said to Elbridge, "Actually, I had something to tell you. Good thing you got back in time."

"Something to tell me?"

"Right now there's a bit of friction between the Hillside Slums church and the churches down the hill."

In other words, a dispute between the combat churches and the non-combat churches.

"Elbridge. You know demonic beast sightings have been getting more frequent lately, right?"

"Of course I know."

"Trade between cities has gotten harder because of it... That part was manageable, more or less. But at the end of last month, a demon showed up east of Solenion, and that became a serious problem."

That sounded like the same demon story Matilda had mentioned.

The bandages wrapped around Felix's left arm and shoulder stood out. He'd almost certainly fought the demon himself.

"How'd it go?"

Felix shook his head without a word. A vague, noncommittal answer.

For anything else, that might have been fine, but you couldn't explain something involving a demon like that.

Elbridge frowned and pressed for details.

"Felix. If you're going to bring it up, tell me the whole thing."

"We lost."

"More detail."

"Skin black as a night sky, and taller than the temple spire. Its arms and legs, wreathed in black flame, were several times thicker than an ordinary person's torso. The moment I saw it, I thought, we're done for."

Something about that description sounded familiar.

Hadn't the demon that showed strength through the distortion-type demonic beast, back when they'd encountered it in the mountain city of Barquntol, looked exactly like that?

"We lost badly in that fight. Several people died, plenty more were hurt. But we did gain something. We tore through the demon's barrier and got the villagers out."

"Hm."

To Elbridge's eyes, that was actually a pretty respectable outcome.

Even the old paladins had often lost against demons. Plenty of times, the outcome had been decided as a loss before the fight even began.

There was only one reason paladins didn't avoid fights like that: to rescue survivors.

The Order of the Bloodstained Spear had lost, but they'd still done their job. Though Felix himself didn't seem to realize that.

"...The problem was that about half the people we rescued had a brand about the size of two finger-joints burned into their bodies."

"A brand."

"Every night, the brand burned down bit by bit from the top, and every time it did, the people screamed in agony. The pain was so bad that slapping them across the face couldn't bring them back to their senses."

"What happened once the brand finished burning?"

"They all died."

Felix let out a deep sigh.

"If we'd reached the scene a little sooner, we might have found some way to deal with it. Might have been able to solve the problem by asking other churches for help. But the Order of the Golden Tray made the timeline too tight."

"The Order of the Golden Tray?"

"Yeah. Looks like they figured they'd handle it themselves, because they didn't tell the other churches a demon had shown up. They called in their own church's paladins and wasted days dawdling around."

Elbridge pictured the Order of the Golden Tray's paladins.

The image came back clearly: five of them, flailing helplessly, unable to take down even one crow demonic beast.

Their skill had probably improved some since then, but no matter how he looked at it, Elbridge couldn't picture them standing up to a demon with any confidence.

Felix's opinion matched his.

"People who can't even hunt a demonic beast properly have no business fighting a demon. Those idiots wasted all that time before finally asking our church for help."

Felix's face had gone red with anger by then.

"...I get it. The Order of the Golden Tray didn't want to give up their turf. But you don't do that when people's lives are on the line. We barely had any time left to act properly by then..."

"Hm."

"In the end, our High Paladin went to the Order of the Golden Tray and asked them directly. Leave the fighting to our combat church, and in exchange, send the white hands over to support us..."

The story had been making sense so far, but then an unfamiliar term came up.

"What's a white hand?"

"You don't know what that is?"

Elbridge shook his head, and Felix's expression turned a bit uncomfortable.

"People who hold out without voting until the very last moment of the year, then declare their support for whichever church promises the most money. That's what they call a white hand."

Elbridge could guess why they'd earned that nickname.

The backs of the hands of people who'd already declared support for the god they served glowed with each church's mark.

If someone weighed their options and refused to declare support until the very end, the backs of their hands would stay pure white until the last night of the year.

"Are there a lot of people like that?"

"Plenty. In Solenion alone, they're probably worth five or six seats. They're organized enough that they even elect representatives. Someone to handle the negotiations on their behalf."

There was actual disgust in Felix's tone.

Even in an age where faith itself had become a business, apparently the "white hands" crossed a line even people here found distasteful.

"What does it mean, asking them to support you?"

"Wealthy churches like the Order of the Golden Tray or the Order of the Olive Tree pay the price, but the ones who actually declare support are us, on their behalf."

In other words, the non-combat churches would buy the white hands' votes and hand them over to the combat churches.

'...Good grief.'

That anyone could even think up a deal like that was more surprising than anything.

But at the same time, it was a fairly rational trade. What simpler way was there to grow a church's seat count and strengthen its paladins' divine power?

Of course, there was one condition attached.

"Would the Order of the Golden Tray agree to that?"

"If they won't cooperate, we won't either. We're going to make it crystal clear that accepting our terms is the only way they'll get protection."

Something about that gave Elbridge an uneasy feeling.

"...How, exactly?"

"If a demon or a demonic beast shows up, we won't help them. Whether they live or die..."

Elbridge felt a sharp wave of revulsion.

Could a paladin really say something like "whether they live or die" and mean it?

Felix noticed the look on Elbridge's face and added more.

"Not just our Order of the Bloodstained Spear. The Order of the Laurel Wreath and the Antlers church agreed too. Oracles came down to every church, and nearly every combat church has agreed to act together on this."

Which meant the gods themselves had agreed to this plan too.

Elbridge felt his thoughts scatter.

"...I don't know if that's the right thing to do, Felix."

"I know what you're thinking. Some painful news might come out of this in the short run. But this is how we cut down suffering in the long run. If we don't claim our seats fast, more and more people will keep suffering down the road."

Felix said this while looking at Elbridge without a shred of shame on his face.

It was a persuasive argument, and it did seem like it would benefit the church's future. But whether it was the right decision was another matter entirely.

Felix held out his hand to Elbridge.

"Our combat churches need to grab as much divine power as we can, as fast as we can. For the people of this world."

But in the end, Elbridge couldn't take that hand.

"...I need to think about this a bit more, Felix."

"Alright. Let me know once you've made up your mind."

That night, Elbridge tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

The next day, a welcome face showed up at the Rusted Shield temple. Marcus, come to split the earnings from the job in Middlemarch.

Marcus raised his right hand and asked Elbridge, "Sir Elbridge. Why the long face?"

Elbridge hesitated for a moment, then told Marcus what he'd heard from Felix.

Marcus's expression turned serious as he asked back, "Sir Elbridge. I don't know what's right or wrong here, but there's one thing I'm curious about."

"What is it?"

"If the combat churches get all these votes handed over to them, which church do those votes actually go to?"

"Well... They'd split it fairly, I'd imagine."

"Fairly. What exactly counts as fair here? We mercenaries don't deal in vague words like that."

That was a question Elbridge hadn't considered. What standard could even count as fair?

No, could it even be split fairly at all?

Just then, Marcus's face suddenly went rigid.

A moment later, Marcus lowered his voice to a whisper.

"Sir Elbridge. The God of Fox Rain has sent down an oracle, wanting to speak with you."

"The God of Fox Rain?"

Why would another church's god want to speak with Elbridge?

Elbridge offered a quiet prayer to the Goddess of the Rusted Shield.

"Goddess?"

But no answer came back.

The Goddess of the Rusted Shield tended not to listen to prayers the morning after delivering an oracle late at night.

Elbridge thought it over a moment longer, then nodded.

"Please, speak."

"Ah, right, I'll just relay the oracle as it comes."

Marcus cleared his throat a couple of times, then spoke in a slightly stern voice.

"Elbridge. Do you think the combat churches will support the Order of the Rusted Shield?"

"They almost certainly will. They saw exactly what I could do at the last Grand Festival."

Marcus shook his head with a stern expression.

"No. They won't give the Order of the Rusted Shield any help, or they'll give the bare minimum."

"Why do you think that? They know it'd be a good move to help our church."

"They know it in their heads. But the heart is different. People would rather ruin themselves while holding onto power than watch things go well while they've lost it. And the world turns on people's hearts, not their heads."

Elbridge answered, "But isn't this something being decided by the gods of each church, not ordinary people?"

"An old man ascended to heaven and became a god, but what's really different between a person and a god? You dimwit..."

"..."

Marcus cut himself off hastily, but Elbridge could easily guess what word had almost slipped out at the end.

"Sorry, that was a slip of the tongue, Sir Elbridge."

"...It's fine. Please, go on."

"If anything, being gods makes them even less likely to let a chance slip by. You don't get to sit at the head of the table in heaven without being that stubborn. Look at your own dimwitted goddess... Sorry. Look at the Goddess of the Rusted Shield. She once had over twenty seats. How many does she have now?"

Whatever else was true, Elbridge couldn't argue with the idea that only the truly stubborn could rise to heaven. Even that God of the Iron Anvil had been remarkably tenacious.

And now those same gods were competing to claim seats all over again.

The tenacity of the gods who already held seats, and the tenacity of the gods reaching for them, couldn't possibly be anything light.

And the gods of the Hillside Slums churches Elbridge would be competing against now were gods who, even two hundred years after the demons vanished, had never once let go of their seats.

The God of Fox Rain kept talking through Marcus.

"It was the same two hundred years ago. If the gods had let go of their greed, the Order of the Rusted Shield should have held at least forty or fifty seats back then. But it stopped at just twenty-two. That alone proves the combat church gods couldn't let go of their greed either."

Elbridge had never thought about it in those terms before. But the idea sparked something in his imagination.

If fifty seats' worth of divine power back then had been split among five paladins, what kind of battles could the Order of the Rusted Shield's paladins have fought?

"Judging by how the Goddess of the Rusted Shield turned gloomy all of a sudden yesterday, it sounds like holding onto two seats has gotten difficult. Am I right?"

"...Yes. You are."

"If I were you, I wouldn't sit around waiting on the other combat churches' goodwill."

"Then what do you think I should do?"

"If it were me, I'd flip the whole board over. Don't settle for stopping at two seats. Scheme, cheat, whatever it takes, grab more than that. Three seats, five seats..."

Elbridge's expression turned grave.

"Greed on that scale inevitably breeds conflict. It's been that way since two hundred years ago. And without cooperation from the other churches, we can't win a war against demons."

"That was then. This is now."

"What's different?"

"Back then, there were paladins on par with you, or with Leonhardt. There aren't any now. Not one paladin in the east could replace you. For the time being, funneling divine power into you is the most rational choice there is."

Marcus hesitated. His expression said he wasn't sure it was his place to pass along what came next.

But in the end, Marcus delivered the oracle all the way through.

"Right now, you can afford to make every combat church your enemy. Before long, all of them will be on their knees in front of you, begging for your help."

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