Free Web NovelChapter 384: Chapter 84: A Sense of Detachment from the World
At her words, the deep-set wrinkles on Saint Cyril’s face seemed to carve themselves even deeper:
"Confidence... is good. But we need more than just confidence, Elizabeth. We need ’results.’"
"You must understand. Chaos is spreading, authority is eroding, and the people’s hearts are wavering. We are in desperate need of an irrefutable miracle—a symbol that can quell all doubts, command all attention, and grant the new order supreme legitimacy."
His cloudy eyes bored into Elizabeth. "Nothing would better display Oriane’s favor, eclipse the fractured Northern Shepherd Chief District in the face of a true miracle, and return the Church Court’s authority to its zenith—or even... beyond what it once was—than to have the Morning Star Bell, silent for hundreds of years, ring out thunderously for you, for the new era, at your own coronation ceremony for the Pope’s Throne!"
"The coronation for the Pope’s Throne..." Elizabeth repeated in a low voice. A subtle ripple disturbed the depths of her dark eyes for a moment, but they quickly grew calm again.
She bowed slightly. "I understand, Lord Cardinal. I will... do my best."
"Not ’do your best.’ You *must*!" Saint Cyril’s voice rose sharply before softening again. "Of course, I know it is difficult. But you are the Saint chosen by the Holy Artifact, Elizabeth. This is your mission, and your glory. The future of the entire Church Court—no, the entire world of faith—may well hinge on your ability to ring that bell."
Elizabeth stood quietly, showing no excitement or alarm at the old man’s words.
She was silent for a moment, then spoke again, a note of inquiry in her voice:
"Lord Cardinal, I have... heard some unsettling rumors within the Holy City recently. Opinions are divided on the truth behind the Sanctuary’s explosion, and no one can seem to agree."
"What’s more, news is arriving from various regions. Many local parishes are reporting escalating conflicts between Lords and commoners, a relief system that has all but collapsed, and even multiple incidents of people looting church supplies."
"The blow to the Church Court’s prestige and influence is more severe than those reports describe... Is... any of this true?"
Saint Cyril’s expression darkened for a moment, but was quickly followed by a heavy sigh.
"Rumors die with the wise, Elizabeth. The matter of the Sanctuary was an unfortunate accident, an opening exploited by evil forces hiding in the shadows. As for the minor unrest in the provinces..."
"This is precisely a manifestation of the old order’s entrenched problems, and it is why we must push for change! A little chaos is the unavoidable birthing pains of tearing down the old to build the new. But as long as we hold the true ’greater cause’ and grasp the power to turn the tide, this chaos will eventually be purged, and a new, more powerful order will surely be established!"
"And the key to all of this, Elizabeth, lies in that bell! When the Morning Star Bell resounds across the heavens, all suspicion, all hesitation, all chaos will vanish like smoke before an irrefutable miracle! The Church Court’s prestige will return, reaching heights never seen before! Then, consolidating our strength, setting things right, and implementing a new doctrine for the people’s salvation—it will all fall into place!"
"So, do not be troubled by this temporary, localized gloom. Your gaze should always be focused on that bell. Ring it! For the glory of Oriane, for the future of the Church Court, and for... all the lost souls on this Continent!"
Elizabeth listened quietly, her fair face devoid of any expression.
After a long moment, she lowered her eyelids, hiding all emotion within her eyes:
"I will do it, Lord Cardinal Cyril."
...
「Hans Viscount Domain.」
「Grey Stone Town.」
Eighty-seven-year-old Terence, who had once severely wounded a Roton Knight, sat in a wheelchair by the window of his second-floor study, a thick woolen blanket covering his knees.
The street outside the window, once the most prosperous in Grey Stone Town, was now home to nothing but peeling walls and a few scattered pedestrians with numb expressions.
It was as if time itself had been drained of all color and life, leaving behind only a gray, dilapidated backdrop.
He vaguely remembered this place as a key northern trade town, always bustling with caravans, full of noise and life... just like a place he recalled from many years ago.
But he could no longer recall exactly where.
When a man grows old, his memory is like a moth-eaten parchment, with many parts reduced to blurry fragments.
An unusual clamor drifted from the distance, a mixture of horse-drawn carts, human voices, and even... the short, expectant cries of children?
The sound was jarringly out of place in the deathly quiet of Grey Stone Town.
Terence’s dim old eyes shifted, and his gray eyebrows knitted together.
He listened intently for a moment. The clamor, far from subsiding, seemed to be drawing nearer, now mixed with indistinct calls that sounded like someone distributing goods.
"Leon!" he called out the door in a hoarse voice.
The study door was gently pushed open, and an old servant, also with graying hair but a still-sturdy frame, walked in and bowed. "Master, you called for me?"
"Outside... what’s that commotion?" Terence raised a withered finger, pointing toward the window. "So noisy... have they started fighting on the border again? Have those Barbarians... come south again?"
A complicated expression crossed the old servant Leon’s face. He stepped forward and raised his voice slightly so his hard-of-hearing master could hear clearly. "It’s not a battle, Master. The border has been relatively stable these past few years. The men sent to check on it reported back... it seems... someone is distributing aid at the old square on the east side of town, handing out food and clothing."
