Ch.242Zen Buddhism

# Six months later. Southern Kingdom Papal States.

Despite the late hour, the people of the Papal States couldn’t sleep. From cardinals to laypeople, nearly everyone was lighting candles and praying—whether in the great cathedral, the temple courtyard, or even in their own homes.

Pope Innocentius’s health had deteriorated rapidly.

He wasn’t young, and he had collapsed several times recently, so everyone had been somewhat mentally prepared.

But now that the moment was drawing near, everyone was bustling about.

Cardinals from around the world were gathering after receiving the urgent news.

The knights of the Papal States were struggling with verifying the identities of the cardinals and their entourages, assigning accommodations and dining halls, providing information about upcoming schedules, and establishing communication networks.

Of course, these were tasks for subordinates, not for cardinals. But just as subordinates have their duties, superiors have their own responsibilities.

The cardinals had to move much more busily than the knights.

Because of the vote.

The Pope of the Two-headed Eagle Faith is determined through voting. Only cardinals can become candidates and only cardinals can cast votes.

It’s not simply that the person with the most votes becomes Pope; they must receive the consent of 81 out of 120 cardinals.

This means more than two-thirds must agree, and the reason it’s 81 rather than 80 is because of a church rule stating that “receiving more than 80 votes out of 119, excluding the candidate’s own vote, is more stringent.”

If no candidate receives 81 or more votes, another vote is immediately held. And there’s no limit to the number of revotes. The process continues until someone receives 81 or more votes.

Since it’s easier to obstruct others than to get what you want, the voting could drag on indefinitely if someone were determined to make it so.

Therefore, when the election begins, the Vatican herds the cardinals into a red brick temple, locks the doors, and only pushes in drinking water and pieces of bread.

All communication with the outside is strictly forbidden, and even the guards aren’t allowed to enter.

After a long wait, when the voting finally ends and a new Pope is elected, white smoke billows from the chimney of the brick temple.

The temple doors open again, and everyone in the world welcomes the new Pope with blessings.

Given these circumstances, cardinals actively campaigned before being locked in the temple.

Every rumor about who from which diocese met whom, or didn’t meet whom, becomes a clue about which faction is supporting or rejecting which tribe.

And that’s not all.

Cardinals aren’t merely clergy. They largely represent the interests of the powerful figures, nobles, merchants, and serfs in their dioceses, and they also receive substantial patronage from them.

Therefore, the papal election is not only a test of the cardinal’s own political power but also a diplomatic and intelligence battle for the nation or group they represent.

Long ago, a cardinal supported by the Maritime Guild received more votes than one backed by the Duce, the leader of the Eastern Union.

The Duce naturally threw a fit, threatening to impose special taxes on the Maritime Guild or revoke their benefits, but this only served to further demonstrate his own political ineptitude.

The Empire’s situation is even more complex and delicate than that of the Eastern Union.

The candidate supported by the Emperor and the one backed by the Elector are naturally different, but beyond that, they actively engage in smear campaigns with the attitude that “if my candidate can’t win, the opponent’s candidate shouldn’t either.”

Even the Stone-Fire Faith heretics secretly extend their influence over the election. If the internal situation of the Stone-Fire Faith is stable, they prefer a gentle and open-minded Pope, but if their internal affairs are complicated, they need someone more militant.

When internal conflicts reach an irreconcilable point, they simply cross the border of the Empire or the Southern Kingdom and fire a few arrows.

Then the Pope will indignantly declare a crusade, and the Stone-Fire Faith will also declare a “Great Holy War to protect faith and belief,” uniting their divided tribes.

In this situation, cardinals who receive the Emperor’s support are often mocked as having “received a poisoned chalice.”

Because the moment the Emperor declares support for someone, that person becomes the target of opposition from the Empire’s Electors, the Southern Kingdom, the Papal States, the Eastern Union, and the Stone-Fire Faith heretics.

That’s why the modest visitor who arrived without proper escorts caught everyone’s attention.

No matter how much she called herself a “history professor,” she was still the Emperor’s sister, a former throne usurper, and someone who could become the Empire’s matriarch in an emergency.

Moreover, after her failed usurpation attempt, she had been handling major foreign affairs for the Empire, even without an official diplomatic appointment.

Though not an official diplomat, she was someone who could convey the Emperor’s intentions more accurately than anyone else, without diplomatic rhetoric.

But the news that followed confused the powerful and delighted the gossips.

Anna had headed straight to the Pope’s sickroom without stopping to talk to anyone, not even for a moment.

* * * * *

Beyond the drawn curtain, a small man coughed. He tried to pick up the water glass on the table with trembling hands, but his fingers had no strength.

Anna took a white cloth from the sickroom. After dampening it with water, she wiped the man’s mouth and placed the end inside his lips. Until the old man waved his hand, indicating he’d had enough.

“I’m in terrible shape, aren’t I?”

The old man shook his head sadly.

“Now I can’t even drink water as I please.”

Anna smiled gently.

“There are many people here to help you.”

“They already think I’m dead, don’t they?”

Pope Innocentius showed his characteristic cynical smile. Though his face had lost almost all its flesh, revealing blue veins and skull beneath the skin, the old man still knew how to mock the world.

“Well, I was no different. When I was a cardinal, I only thought about what I could do if I became Pope.

And I did what I was supposed to do. So let’s put aside talk of karma or poetic justice. I’m simply going when it’s my time to go.”

The Pope, cynical even toward himself, closed his eyes tiredly.

“So don’t expect to hear apologies from me, Anna.”

“I know.”

The Pope looked at the Empire’s sister with slightly puzzled eyes. Anna appeared serene.

“Know what?”

“That you acted according to your beliefs. And that you still sincerely believe in them.”

The old man turned his head. He glared at the ceiling with eyes that could barely see. Eventually, growing weary of even that, he closed his eyes.

“You said you would come because there was something you needed to hear.”

“It’s about my father.”

The Pope kept his eyes closed. Anna tried to remain calm. When it came to her father, she could never be completely detached.

Her father had been her idol, her ideal monarch, and everything she had aspired to be.

At least until recently. That had definitely been the case.

“If it’s about Alexios, you know more than I do.”

“I used to think so too. But after having and raising a child, I realized something. The idea that parents are parents from the beginning is an illusion held by all children in the world.”

“What are you asking an old man who’s lived alone all his life? You’re being mischievous. Mischievous, Anna. Poor girl. When I first saw you, you seemed smaller than my palm. Now I’ve become smaller than you.”

The old man laughed heartily. Though it ended in a broken cough, he seemed to be in good spirits for the first time in a long while.

“So. What are you curious about?”

“…I want to hear about what my father never told me and my brother.”

The old man’s body sank.

Because he could no longer hold his breath. That small, frail body could no longer even contain air. After giving back each part of the body received from God, he was now returning even the breath he had been given.

But not yet.

At least it didn’t seem like it would be tonight.

The old man knew this was his last support. An invisible support inside his body, the final support keeping him tied to this world. He knew that once it fell, there would be nothing left to bind him to the world.

But he believed it would never be uprooted. Since it had never happened in his lifetime, he thought he could take it to his grave.

“Why do you think there is such a thing?”

One last small rebellion.

“…You know I love books.”

“Of course.” The old man smiled. The woman before him kept overlapping with the little girl from his memories.

“Books are delicate. They need to be looked at and maintained regularly. You have to fight not only against moths but also dust and… the gradually fading ink.

Just as people forget memories, books do the same. That’s why librarians prepare new paper, dip their iron pens in fresh ink, write down old stories, and bind them in new leather covers.

Of course, since librarians are human, they sometimes omit things when copying. A reader who knows how to read context rather than just words will notice such parts.

But a more experienced reader knows to go a step further. They can tell whether a part was accidentally omitted or… deliberately removed.

So I’ve come to find that missing part. To hear what my father omitted when speaking to me and my brother.”

“Anna.”

“Yes?”

“Would you pray for your father?”

The Pope’s eyes grew moist. Anna nodded, somewhat bewildered.

Even with all her wisdom, she couldn’t tell whether his tears came from the regret of not keeping a friend’s dying wish, or from the relief of finally revealing a secret kept for a lifetime.

“Your father and I made a promise. Not to pass on this terrible legacy. To end this horrible, cursed thing that had been passed down to us from those before us. To make it so that no one would even know it existed.”

“…”

“We hoped to break this original sin with our own hands. So that someday, in the distant future, when no one even knew such a thing had existed, when its origins had faded into obscurity, people would be completely free from the past.

So that they could say, ‘That was something from the very distant past and has nothing to do with me now.’ For that day to come, we agreed to end the bloodying of hands with our generation…”

The Pope’s voice became choked.

“‘There is a Demon King over there. So hate, defile, fight, and defeat it. The Demon King won’t easily disappear, so live your life keeping your distance.’

That’s a parent’s heart, Anna. Wanting my children to live without even knowing about this filthy, sordid thing. Just… just wanting them to see only what is right and beautiful and good.

I just wanted them to live their entire lives without knowing where it came from and why it arose. That’s all. Just. That was all, Anna.”

With his eyes closed, the Pope wept. It looked like how a wooden statue might cry.

Was it something that had been stored inside for so long, like a cut stump that had lived with knots for too long, that no one could tell if it was alive or dead, finally flowing out after rotting inside?

Or was it the regret of a powerful person who had lived his whole life in cynicism and self-pity, believing only in himself?

She didn’t know. She couldn’t know. It might be both, or neither.

But what did it matter?

There was just an old man who had confessed his last sin and was waiting for heaven’s call, and a woman who was no longer a girl.

That was all.

That was everything.

* * * * *

On the dawn of the third day after Anna’s visit, before the rooster crowed three times, Pope Innocentius passed away.