Free Web NovelChapter 363: Chapter 77: Should We Not Light Even a Candle to Illuminate the Darkness?
"...My father was just saying yesterday, this new spinning wheel is great, but if it could be just a little faster, maybe we could weave another twenty centimeters of cloth a day..."
"...Exactly. I already know all the words they teach at school. Can’t they teach us something else? I heard the kids in the big cities down south also get to learn painting and musical instruments..."
The voices were quiet, tinged with childish innocence and a frank desire for a better life.
The atmosphere at the general store’s entrance instantly grew tense.
The expressions of the women who had been speaking changed. The eldest woman, in particular, immediately turned and hissed at the children inside the shop, "What nonsense are you brats spouting! You have food to eat, clothes to wear, and a school to attend, and you’re still not satisfied? Keep talking like that, and I’ll give you a thrashing!"
She then turned to Kaiden and Alina, her face a mask of panic and anxiety. She bowed again and again. "My Lord, my Lady, the children don’t know any better, they’re just spouting nonsense. Please, don’t take it to heart! The blessings the Governor and you have given us are a heavenly grace. We can’t be more grateful, we have absolutely no intention of being discontent!"
The other women chimed in with agreement. Their gazes toward the shop were reproachful, while their looks toward Kaiden and his wife were filled with trepidation, terrified the children’s tactless words would displease the Lord’s heir.
Kaiden’s smile, however, didn’t falter. He raised a hand to stop the women’s frantic apologies, his tone calm. "Children speak their minds. There’s no need to be alarmed. In fact, they’re not wrong."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the crowd as he spoke in a clear voice, "My father often taught me that the contentment of our people should not be an excuse for stagnation. Today, you feel the spinning wheel is good enough. Tomorrow, perhaps there will be a better one. Today, you learn to read and count. Tomorrow, you might want to learn more. This is perfectly normal. It’s a good thing, even."
"It means everyone has something to look forward to, that you have your own ideas. The duty of a Lord and his castle isn’t to suppress these ideas, but to channel this desire for ’something better’ into constructive outlets—like improving tools, learning new skills, and making the territory an even better place."
Alina added in a gentle voice, "Yes, it’s a blessing for the territory that the children are willing to think and ask for more."
Adela watched quietly from the side, her heart in turmoil.
Once they were a short distance from the general store, Adela couldn’t help but ask quietly, "Lord Kaiden, did you truly not mind what those children said? Even though they were talking about... their dissatisfaction with the blessings they’ve already received?"
Kaiden turned to look at her, his gaze clear. "Miss Adela, if my people could only ever tell me they were satisfied, it would probably mean I hadn’t given them any new, tangible hope for improvement in a very long time."
"My father used to say that governing is like rowing a boat upstream: if you’re not moving forward, you’re falling behind. The artless words of a child can sometimes be the clearest mirror reflecting the current state of affairs. The crucial part, as a Lord, is whether you choose to smash that mirror, or to look closely at the reflection and decide your next move."
Adela fell silent for a moment. After a long pause, she slowly nodded.
...
「Glamorgan Territory.」
Murphy’s voice wasn’t loud, but every word carried immense weight. "Because, from the very beginning, you tied improvement to divine will and holy promise. You gave them a supreme, unquestionable moral reason to expect more. Once that expectation is dashed—or once the rate of progress fails to keep pace with the rate of their expanding desires—what collapses won’t just be their trust in a particular Lord or Pope. It could ripple out to affect the very interpretation of faith itself."
"At that point, the flames of their fury will no longer be lit by simple hunger, but by something far more savage, laced with the sacred feeling of betrayal. That is much harder to quell, and far more unpredictable, than pure greed or oppression."
He looked at the compassionate portrait on the wall, as if speaking to the person depicted within. "Granting grace may win you gratitude for a time, but if that grace is promised in the ’name of God,’ it carries the implicit expectation of an endless stream of future blessings."
"Human greed is limitless, but the world’s resources—and the capabilities of any single ruler—are finite. What begins in the name of God can end in questions like... ’Why has God abandoned us?’ or ’Why does that thief still hold his throne?’ It could even end with the fanatical roar to ’reclaim what God has granted us’."
"The ideals of His Holiness Fuer II are noble, to be sure. But was this Path, from the very beginning, not sown with the seeds of its own destruction?"
Anderson stood frozen to the spot.
The fervor and indignation on his face crumbled, piece by piece, under the weight of Murphy’s cold analysis.
He opened his mouth, wanting to argue. He wanted to say that faith could restrain and sublimate desire, that true believers understood how to reconcile their needs within a community, that the Pope’s original intention was to establish a sacred order capable of balancing everyone’s demands...
But the fundamental nature of the desire and internal conflict Murphy had pointed out was so absolute that he found he couldn’t even begin to describe the specific principles by which such a "sacred order" would arbitrate.
Before Murphy’s gaze, which seemed to pierce right through the veil of human nature, all his words felt pale and powerless.
He took an involuntary step back, his spine hitting the cold stone of the bookshelf behind him.
He looked at the portrait on the wall again. This time, the compassionate eyes of the figure in the painting seemed tinged with a hint of bitterness.
The Priest’s lips trembled. After a long moment, a voice emerged, so hoarse it sounded as if it had been scraped from the depths of his throat.
"Then... then are we supposed to do nothing? Are we supposed to just sit by and watch suffering spread, to let injustice become an eternal, iron-clad law, all because we’re afraid that giving will fuel greed? Because we’re afraid a promise might not be kept forever? Because human desires are a complex, contradictory mess, and trying to reconcile them is like carving a path through a briar patch?"
His voice trembled with emotion. "His Holiness... His Holiness simply couldn’t bear it! He saw those people struggling in the mire. He is the supreme Holy Throne on the Continent, with limitless power and wealth, yet he cannot sit easy on his throne in the Holy City!"
"He can’t pretend he doesn’t see it! He believes Oriane’s compassion should be made manifest in the mortal world, that faith should bring about real change! Even if... even if this Path is fraught with risk, even if he is stretched thin trying to deal with countless conflicting desires, even if the attempt ultimately fails and he ends up burning himself... does the fear of fire mean you shouldn’t light a candle to illuminate the darkness?"
His eyes reddened, but he stubbornly straightened his spine, his gray-blue eyes fixed on Murphy.
"My Lord, you’ve pointed out the abyss of desire, the difficulty of reconciliation, and the risks of making promises. I understand all of that. Perhaps His Holiness understands it, too. But if we all stop in our tracks because we see an abyss, turn back because we know the path is hard, and retreat because we foresee the risks, then who in this world will be left to try and light that candle?"
"At least... at least His Holiness tried." His voice dropped, thick with a choked sob. "At least, after all these years, he has allowed people like me to continue believing that another way is possible. At least here, in the Glamorgan Territory, I can still kindle a few small flames, thanks to the Count’s benevolence."
"I don’t know where this Path ultimately leads. Perhaps, just as you said, it is lined with the thorns of self-destruction. But to do nothing... to simply stand by and watch... isn’t that just another kind of abyss?"
