#7
The high priests who had fortuitously survived the Demon King Bellarossa’s advent each harbored their own schemes. Some patiently bided their time, keenly eyeing an opportunity to elevate a priest from their homeland, while others sought to promote a disciple loyal to them, and still others aimed to advance their own standing.
Before these individuals, gathered around a circular table, lay the tantalizing cake of high priestly and holy knight positions. Each of them was secretly salivating, wondering how they might secure an even larger slice.
The atmosphere had now matured to a certain degree. The high priests assembled in this place each held the right to recommend and vote. The moment had finally arrived to reveal the culmination of the fierce lobbying and political maneuvering that had unfolded for some time.
“Though the time was brief, I trust each of you has carefully observed and found individuals possessing both character and conviction suitable for these positions. As we can delay no longer, let us now put forth our meticulously chosen recommendations.”
Paper and pens were laid out before the high priests seated around the circular table. Once the stage was set, nearly everyone picked up their pens simultaneously.
In the hands that swiftly scribbled the names of their recommendations onto the paper, not a hint of hesitation could be discerned. Usually, Hereis would forgo his right to recommend and vote, opting not to pick up a pen, but this time was different. He, too, raised his pale, elegant hand, picked up a pen, and unhesitatingly inscribed the names he had already considered onto the paper. For a brief moment, the cautious gazes of the other priests turned to Hereis, surprised by this unexpected display, but it was fleeting. They soon redirected their attention to their own papers.
Scratch, scratch.
Elegant script was etched onto each of their papers.
Becoming a high priest was not simply a matter of possessing strong faith and love for God. While this might be true for lower-ranking priests who primarily ministered to commoners and those of lesser standing, priests of intermediate rank or higher were expected to possess a foundational education.
After all, most priests of intermediate rank or higher were the offspring of noble families without inheritance rights. To preserve their family’s prestige and wealth, they bequeathed all property to the eldest son, while encouraging other sons to enter the temple or the military, thereby contributing to the family’s standing. Thus, even if all were equal before God, within the temple, social strata naturally formed. It was only natural for the scions of powerful families to have greater opportunities to ascend to higher positions. Such individuals were rigorously educated from childhood, typically proficient in multiple languages, and possessed an above-average level of general knowledge.
Normally, they would have only written one or two names and finished, but today was different. So many vacancies had arisen that the number of people to be recommended had increased proportionally. Hereis himself wrote nearly a dozen names in quick succession before finally setting his pen down. The others did likewise.
Each of the papers placed before them was gathered together. The gaze of everyone in the conference room was drawn to the bundle of papers. There was a palpable sense of vigilance, as if each person was monitoring to ensure their own list wasn’t swapped or subtly removed. Anticipation and caution flickered in their eyes.
The eldest archbishop began to turn the pages of the bundle one by one, whispering to the attendant priest standing beside him. The attendant priest, who appeared to be in their late teens, diligently moved their pen across the paper they held with each whispered word.
The process continued for a long time. Despite the duration, everyone waited with bated breath, showing no signs of boredom. Finally, the Archbishop’s whispers ceased, and the attendant priest presented the paper recorded in shorthand. The Archbishop, his face solemn, took the paper from the attendant priest and slowly scanned it from top to bottom.
Many eyes sharply observed the Archbishop’s face. Hereis noticed the Archbishop’s white eyebrows twitch slightly.
The Archbishop did not speak easily. Yet, no one urged him on. They simply waited with composed expressions, trying to mask their tension.
After scanning the paper repeatedly from top to bottom, as if double-checking, the Archbishop finally set it down on the table. Then, he slowly parted his solemnly closed lips.
“Below His Holiness the Pope, the temple is led by three Archbishops and twelve Bishops, who guide countless priests. During the Demon King Bellarossa’s attack, one Archbishop and seven Bishops perished. To fill these vacant positions, we have received recommendations from those gathered here today. I shall now announce the results.”
A subtle hint of displeasure colored his slow delivery. However, priests, who always had to present themselves before the faithful, were masters of composure. He quickly suppressed even this subtle emotion and continued with a joyful expression.
“The individual who received the most recommendations to serve as the new Archbishop, filling the vacant position, is…”
As he took a brief, sharp breath, everyone seemed to hold their own breath, as if by a silent agreement.
The Archbishop.
It was a position of immense power, allowing its holder, as a religious figure, to coordinate political situations in various nations, acting on behalf of the Pope who was constrained from direct political involvement. It was also the object of countless requests and favors from emissaries of every country and from priests within the temple itself. The position of Archbishop was that significant.
“Bishop Hereis.”
The Archbishop called Hereis’s name with a benevolent smile.
Some gasped, as if completely caught off guard, while others listened to the results with composed expressions.
“But… is Bishop Hereis not too young to bear the grave responsibilities of an Archbishop? There are not a few who say that even holding the position of Bishop at his current age is excessive.”
A Bishop, a strong candidate for the next Archbishop, spoke, unable to conceal his displeasure. Several others nodded in agreement. Observing this, a relatively young Bishop spoke up in a clear, ringing voice.
“He is a favorite of the gods, born with an abundance of divine grace. Have you ever seen a human across all the temples of the continent who possesses such profound divine power? There is a reason why he receives the gods’ love so completely.”
“I concur. Moreover, Bishop Hereis has been appointed Archbishop through the recommendations of all of us here. This is a historic and sacred position. To challenge the results of a sacred vote? Surely, you’re not suggesting that some nefarious scheme might have intervened in this process?”
At the sharp question, the Bishop who had voiced his displeasure slowly scanned the faces of those seated around the table, then twitched his jaw muscle and shook his head.
“To challenge a sacred vote, perish the thought. It was merely the small concern of an old man for the young Bishop Hereis.”
His words sounded humble, yet his eyes burned with anger and jealousy. He had likely been confident in the voting results. Everyone present knew how much enormous wealth and how many promises he had poured into securing the vacant Archbishop position, for they had all been targets of his lobbying. Unfortunately, the wealth invested in his solicitations had vanished into thin air, and he had failed to obtain the Archbishop’s seat. Judging by his age, it was highly probable that, unless another Demon King appeared and slew an Archbishop, the opportunity to rise to Archbishop would not come again in this lifetime. Naturally, any hope of eventually becoming Pope had also completely dissolved.
“Now, then, let us move on to the next matter.”
The Archbishop began to read through the list on the paper. As the name of each person chosen to fill a vacant position was called, a mix of joy and sorrow crossed people’s faces. With each name that flowed from the Archbishop’s lips, a faint amusement flickered in Hereis’s deep blue eyes, subtly concealed by his lowered gaze.
The newly elected list generally showed a balanced distribution of names favored by various factions. However, there were quite a few surprisingly notable selections. Two of the individuals appointed as new Bishops were priests unusually young for such a promotion. In particular, the person chosen to replace the Holy Knight Commander, who had been slain by the Demon King, was a remarkably young man.
The priests, each a seasoned politician in their own right, skillfully masked their expressions. Yet, when the names of excessively young individuals were called, even they found it difficult to conceal their displeasure.
The temple was, at its core, a conservative and insular place. Those who held high positions within it had spent decades there, often pushed into the temple by their parents during their fresh-faced youth. For such individuals, the notion of young people their juniors standing shoulder-to-shoulder with them was intolerably unpleasant and incomprehensible. Moreover, even the Archbishop announcing the results wore a troubled expression, so how much more vexed must the others have been?
Once the announcement of the results concluded, a heavy, thick silence settled over the conference room.
“While I will concede to the outcome, as it is the result of a sacred vote, the results are simply too…”
A Bishop muttered softly, swallowing the rest of their words. The slight twitch at the corner of their eye spoke volumes, conveying a silent question: ‘Which lunatics dared to abuse their recommendations and votes in such a manner?’
Of course, who recommended whom and how they voted was kept strictly confidential, so no one knew the details except for the Archbishop who announced the results and their attendant priest. The papers had long since been placed in a brazier in a corner of the conference room, turning into a handful of ash.