Ch.578Episode 21 – Peace in Our Time

“I understand the reality has many obstacles. Purging the church’s long-standing wrongdoings cannot and should not be accomplished in a short period.”

“However, what must be made clear here is that we should not disguise silence as realism.”

Lucia speaks.

“You advised me to think realistically, but what exactly is this reality? If reality means covering up wrongdoings out of fear of immediate repercussions, does that make the proposal to ease the burden of those who suffer unrealistic?”

The clergy member says.

“The foundation of religion is often explained as love. But how can a religious person who has forgotten even how to seek forgiveness dare to discuss compassion, truth, justice, and peace? Even if they did, who would listen to what such a person preaches?”

“You have repeatedly told me that what I’m trying to do reaches into the realm of impossibility, but I’m afraid I cannot accept that view.”

“What is faith in the first place?”

“It is challenging the impossible.”

The Saint says.

“Constantly challenging and moving toward an eternal destination that seems impossible to reach.”

“Sometimes in the name of paradise beyond death, sometimes as a point of infinite convergence called God. The act of disciplining oneself to advance toward the world beyond. That is faith.”

“Thus, religion exists in the realm of eternal incompleteness, and clergy members are required to possess one virtue above all else.”

“The world calls it responsibility.”

“Those who challenge what everyone calls impossible and ultimately bear fruit and gain enlightenment. Religious people show reverence to those who have achieved such great feats and strive to emulate them. They are the ones commonly revered as saints in religion.”

Having concluded her lengthy response.

The Saint finally regained her resolve.

With that, she asks.

“…I dare to ask you all.”

“What is the title that precedes my name?”

Episode 21 – Peace of Our Time

The silence lasted longer than expected.

“…So in the end, you won’t give up.”

“No.”

To Camilla’s first words after struggling to speak, Lucia simply nodded firmly to conclude her answer. Her eyes, filled with determination as resolute as her gesture, shone with a bluer hue than ever before.

“As long as one doesn’t give up, opportunities always exist. Even if this issue isn’t resolved today, I have no intention of giving up.”

“……”

“If we stop here, the church will never move forward.”

Someone needs to speak up.

So that in the distant future, when historians of later generations evaluate the church.

At least the words “there were those who did not abandon the path of forgiveness and mercy despite everything” would remain.

“……”

We looked at each other in silence. Though no words were exchanged, it was abundantly clear that a dialogue more precious than a hundred words had taken place.

Persuasion wasn’t necessary. More precisely, persuasion was bound to fail.

It was impossible to convince Lucia with any political or economic logic. When a religious person charges forward with conviction, how could such logic possibly work?

The essence of religion originates from belief. As she said, there’s nothing better than faith when it comes to rationalizing irrational phenomena and challenging the impossible.

That’s why conviction is more precious than life itself to a religious person.

The term “martyrdom” doesn’t exist for nothing.

“Will it change anything?”

Nevertheless, I continuously tried to persuade her. Though I knew intellectually it was impossible, human psychology is a curious thing.

Irrationality doesn’t solely reside in faith.

This is an endeavor that anticipates resistance.

We don’t need to look far.

Lucia herself has already faced fierce resistance within the church over historical issues and even engaged in violent confrontation with Pope Raphael, who maintains an opposing stance.

If this continues, beyond economic or political issues, there might even be threats to her personal safety.

While the possibility converges infinitely to zero right now, someday she might seriously need to worry about assassination by political opponents.

That’s why I tried so hard to break Lucia’s stubbornness.

“I don’t think anything will change by doing this.”

“It’s not the merchant’s fist that pierces rock, but the eternally flowing stream.”

“It’s essentially like throwing eggs at a rock. You might just end up getting hurt unnecessarily.”

Given the situation, my words weren’t particularly gentle, but she engaged in the exchange without taking offense.

Of course, with Lucia’s iron-willed stubbornness, my persuasion had absolutely no effect.

Even as I cast a gaze that made me look 30 years older, she continued to maintain her unyielding stance.

“Hope always belongs to the believer and waits beyond suffering. This is an era desperate for a small hope. A seemingly insignificant word can be a lamp that helps someone endure a painful night. And no matter how long the night, dawn always breaks eventually.”

“……”

“Then, isn’t it my duty, as someone in holy orders, to bear the role of conveying hope?”

“You’re going to walk a path of thorns that’s clearly visible?”

“Someone has to do it.”

“……”

“If it’s my duty, then yes.”

With a gentle smile.

Lucia concluded her words with a nod.

“I can willingly endure even suffering.”

Infinitely radiant and therefore beautiful.

With a bright smile.

*

The Vatican’s plan to overturn the Saint’s stubbornness by bringing in colleagues ended in spectacular failure.

What they discovered was that the Second Saint wasn’t just a naive religious zealot lacking in real-world sensibility.

Additionally, they learned she was a genuine religious person who wouldn’t hesitate to jump into a fire pit for her faith if necessary.

“My life for Aiur?”

“Do you want to joke even at a moment like this?”

Camilla, who had created something resembling either a flame sword or a psionic blade around her forearm, pouted. Perhaps it was because her carefully crafted joke, intended to lighten the heavy atmosphere, had been flatly rejected. Her mouth protruded like it could rival Donald Duck’s.

Though fundamentally just a joke, Camilla’s quip had some merit.

Like the madmen of the Koprulu Sector who went berserk to reclaim a single planet, Lucia too was a fanatic who raised her mace to defend her convictions.

This attempt might have failed, but soon she might declare herself a Holy Magistrate after challenging Raphael and Lakshur for the papal succession, potentially turning the entire church into a wasteland.

“I understand faith is important…”

“But honestly, doesn’t it feel excessive?”

“Quite a bit, yes.”

It’s highly encouraging that Lucia has such a thorough professional consciousness as a religious person.

Unlike someone whose name starts with “Ve,” at least she hasn’t forgotten her fundamental duty to the point of shamelessly committing embarrassing acts.

The problem is that in her quest to protect faith, she’s dragging others by the collar into the fire pit.

“Morality. It’s an important element. For both individuals and groups.”

Camilla, pondering Lucia’s plea, softly utters what might be a sigh.

“An immoral individual might just face social condemnation, but a nation’s morality isn’t just a matter that ends with legal judgment. Why, even Obama once vehemently denied CIA torture allegations and NSA’s extralegal wiretapping activities.”

“Right. I remember that too. I saw that speech at Guantanamo.”

A nation’s immorality.

This goes beyond simple ethics, affecting politics, diplomacy, economy, and culture as a whole.

Just as we commonly denounce and sanction nations that commit human rights abuses as thugs, a nation’s moral flaws aren’t issues that can be evaluated and dismissed with the simple label of “bad.” As Camilla said, this was a significant national matter.

In that sense, Lucia’s radical actions, though somewhat extreme, might be necessary and inevitable,

and the settlement of historical issues might be an inductive and inevitable destiny for the church.

But reality doesn’t always flow exactly as one might think, does it?

I added quietly, swallowing a deep sigh.

“Anyway… it’s fortunate that we got her to put down the mace.”

We might have failed in persuasion, but we succeeded in temporarily halting Lucia’s rampage.

We did get her firm promise to refrain from using force.

We might not have achieved all the demands set by the Vatican, but at least we prevented another situation where bishops and cardinals would get their behinds whipped.

“I’ll head to the State Department for now. In the meantime, Camilla, please continue trying to persuade Lucia.”

“I don’t think I can persuade her…”

“Come on, there’s nothing impossible. At least try before saying that, at least try.”

“What if Lucia hits me?!”

Camilla clutched her head and began to tremble with exaggerated gestures. It wasn’t out of genuine fear of being hit by Lucia, but rather a tantrum about why the bomb disposal was being passed to her.

To this, I persuaded her with a short and concise statement.

“Then you can go back to the Grand Duke. Try telling him you gave up and came back in less than a day.”

“Uh, hmm… that’s a bit…”

Camilla, who had been maintaining a confident attitude, immediately tucked her tail.

For reference, the reason the Grand Duke had thrown his disciple into a human-modification furnace with an astonishing 125% capacity was due to her character, which lacked even a speck of perseverance despite her constantly fluttering, impulsive mouth.

From the master’s perspective, if she couldn’t even cross the mountain range of the Zamria Federation (which boasts heights that would make even a Chinook helicopter tremble, rivaling Afghanistan’s Hindu Kush mountains), which was merely a backyard hill to him, and came back after giving up on the simple task of persuading a colleague (who challenged the current Pope to a duel with a mace) in just one day, how hysterical would he become?

He would surely throw a fit, shouting “I didn’t raise you to be weak!” and toss her into the north where remnants of demons were causing trouble.

It was predictable without even watching.

“Please do your best. I have no one else I can trust with this.”

“I appreciate the high evaluation, but why me… No, never mind. I’ll do it.”

Camilla, who was about to retort grumpily, changed her stance with a typical British palm-flipping gesture.

And I turned off the magic crystal connected to the Grand Duke and carefully put it in my pocket.

Leaving her trudging away like defeated British infantry at Gallipoli, I hurried to the Medius Cathedral to wrap up the situation.

First, I needed to manage the aftermath.

Even though she promised not to cause more trouble, that didn’t mean all the problems Lucia had created were neatly resolved.

After dueling with the Pope, who would trust her just because she promised “I’ll be good now” with a pinky swear? The collapse of moral standing wasn’t just the church’s problem.

I ran around until the soles of my feet were worn out, trying to salvage Lucia’s reputation, which had plummeted through the basement floor all the way to the mantle. Fortunately, I encountered a high-ranking clergy member who had already begun damage control.

It was Veronica.

Upon hearing that the Saint had collectively disciplined men old enough to be her father, the Pope attempted dialogue to prevent bloodshed. It was a natural course of action given that even a former Inquisition chief found the issue quite serious…

But when the Saint who came for an audience launched into insubordination with “I’m in succession, Your Holiness,” outright challenging her superior.

Hearing rumors that her sister and an old fogey had a brawl after removing their rank insignia, the First Saint had no choice but to rush to the cathedral for damage control.

With Lucia having cracked Raphael’s head, cleanup was not an option but a necessity.

Upon learning of her sister’s outrageous behavior, she had dashed to the cathedral, cast a Holy-Kantapia on the bloodied Pope, and then promptly chained up her insolent sister and confined her to an underground storage room.

Indeed, not just anyone can become a Saint.

She finally did something right for once.

After meeting with Veronica, who was diligently healing Raphael, I began discussing ways to resolve this troublesome issue.

Of course, no profound conversation took place; it was more like counseling, listening to Veronica’s lamentations as she clung to me, sobbing.

“Hueeeng… How did she become so ferocious, unrecognizably so, tearing her sister’s heart to shreds…!”

“Ah, yes, yes. You must have been upset.”

“I can’t just throw this brat away. What should I do…? Huaaang…”

“Stop. A grown woman shouldn’t cry like this. Come on.”

“She really only gives me trouble…”

The sight of the Saint, who should be the most mature, streaming tears and snot was quite something.

Already feeling heavy, it was twice as hard with her clinging to me.

“If she fought, she should at least win. How embarrassing to lose to me after winning against everyone else, what a disgrace…”

“…Is that really important right now?”

“Of course! If blood was drawn, you must win at all costs! This won’t do, I need to set a date and fix her manners-“

Of course, her lunacy hadn’t gone anywhere, as evidenced by another outburst in the middle. I had momentarily forgotten that she too was a weirdo that most normal people couldn’t even begin to compare with.

Anyway, let bygones be bygones.

After comforting the crying Veronica, she suddenly started talking about fixing the brat’s manners and establishing proper conduct, almost breaking into a sword dance, which I had to stop again.

Then I had to silence the bishops and cardinals, listen to unofficial positions on compensation issues, and visit Raphael when I heard he had regained consciousness, and so on.

With the strongest lobbyist by my side, most problems were resolved swiftly.

This is why connections are indeed valuable.

*

Returning after handling all sorts of issues, it was already midnight.

The day had been so exhausting that I fell asleep without even having the energy to wash up.

And at dawn.

-Knock, knock.

Someone came secretly under the cover of night.

*

There’s nothing scarier than someone knocking at your door in the dead of night. Especially for an intelligence officer like me who makes a living from foreign intelligence.

“W-who is it?”

I carefully pushed open the locked door to identify the uninvited guest.

And,

“It’s been a while.”

“…Sister Rebecca?”

The mint-haired nun began to bow her head respectfully in greeting.

“What brings you here?”

After quickly unlocking the door, I welcomed Sister Rebecca inside with delight, intending to offer her a cup of tea.

But she firmly declined my offer.

Instead, she only stated her business in an unusual tone.

“The Director is calling for you.”

Peter.

He is summoning me.