Caspond watched his sister leave the study. The moment she stepped into the corridor, her playful nature resurfaced; her gait was light and joyful, a cheerfulness so infectious that Caspond found his own tension melting away.
"Caspond, come in."
Saran II called his eldest son inside. The Holy King's smile had already flattened into a neutral line. Despite wearing only a simple white tunic, his massive, powerful frame commanded the room.
If Saran II had been a doting father moments ago, he was now the Sovereign of the Roble Holy Kingdom.
Caspond nodded and walked in. He handed over a stack of official documents but, as he stood respectfully to the side to speak, his words had absolutely nothing to do with the paperwork.
"Father, the investigation is complete. Although only a few nuns and High Priestess Mariana were present during my sister's awakening, those nuns were all faith-based magic casters raised by the Royal Family."
"I questioned them separately. Their accounts are identical: while Calca was performing the world-harmonization, her entire body suddenly began to radiate light. At first, no one knew what was happening. High Priestess Mariana called her name several times, but Calca was unresponsive."
"Then, the High Priestess claimed she sensed the presence of the Wind God and declared it a miracle."
"The nuns said they didn't sense anything at first—though that might be because they are only Second-Tier priests. They didn't feel the 'divine presence' until just before Calca woke up."
"While it initially sounded like a convenient excuse to cover up a potential accident involving Calca, the fact that my sister could effortlessly cast [Cure Light Wounds] the moment she emerged suggests they were telling the truth."
"As for whether the Temple orchestrated this..." Caspond paused, his information appearing slightly conflicted, but he voiced his suspicion anyway. "I haven't found any evidence of a large-scale operation from the Temple's side. Of course, it's possible the plot is so classified that I simply couldn't find a trail."
"The Temple's current goal remains pushing Mariana to the Fifth Tier so they can stand on equal footing with the Royal Family."
"Equal footing? I think not," Saran II snorted, clearly displeased with the Temple's ambitions.
If the Holy King was the apex of both national power and theology, then his level of faith-based magic represented his theological status and the height of his devotion. As long as the King remained at the peak, he held the ultimate right of interpretation.
But what would happen if the King's magical level fell below that of the Temple's High Hierarch? In the past, several Holy Kings who had only reached the Third Tier had learned the bloody truth of that outcome. If the Royal Family didn't possess the inherited knowledge of the Fifth Tier, the throne of the Holy King would likely be nothing more than a title "granted by the gods" via the Temple.
To put it bluntly, if not for the strength of the first Holy King, this nation might have long ago become a theocratic state like the Slane Theocracy.
"You don't need to investigate this further," Saran II said, waving a hand. His expression was a mix of conflict and wonder, his voice tinged with disbelief. "It seems this time... it truly was a miracle."
"Hmm?" Caspond was stunned. Father, that's not what you said earlier!
Caspond remembered vividly when the news first reached his father's ears. They had been discussing the defense vacuum at the Eastern Great Wall, as nearly all personnel were due to return for the autumn harvest. His father had looked grim, and upon hearing the report, he had simply waved a hand and ordered someone to bring Calca to him.
The moment the study was cleared of everyone but the two of them, the King had exploded into a tirade. Because Saran II had spent his youth charging into battle with twin maces, he was close with his soldiers and had picked up quite a "vibrant" vocabulary. The study had been filled with some very colorful language.
He had railed about how those "Temple dogs" dared to use his daughter for their schemes. He had shouted, "I believe in the gods myself—you think I don't know what level our gods are at? You can fool the commoners, but you think you can fool a fellow practitioner?"
Faith-based casters were all called "priests," but ultimately, they were still magic casters. If faith determined the effect of the spell, mana was still the prerequisite for triggering it.
Even with a Fifth-Tier priest, you could say their faith was steady, but not necessarily "fanatical." One might worship a god of kindness while committing acts that didn't align with that god's tenets—or even being outright villainous. At most, their magical effects would be weakened, and even that penalty wasn't impossible to circumvent.
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My : https://[email protected]/AuAuMon
I'm not the Queen Greatsword. (41 Chapters, Ongoing)
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The Royal Family and the nobility knew this better than anyone. Just look at the scandals involving "priests and young boys." Hmph.
Consequently, the higher-ranking priests always had one lingering question: was the massive power they felt when casting truly the god they worshipped? If it was their god, why did the deity never respond to them outside of spellcasting?
So, a "miracle"? To both Saran II and Caspond, it had looked like a blatant political stunt.
And yet, after meeting his daughter, his father had suddenly changed his tune. Why? Caspond was baffled.
"Because Calca said the deity granted her an ability. She can cast [Cure Light Wounds] once per day," Saran II said calmly. He knew Caspond would understand the weight of that statement.
He didn't think his daughter was lying; such a claim was too easy to disprove. If the Temple could actually grant such a gift, they would have found a common girl to set up as a "Saint" to undermine the King's authority, rather than giving that authority to the Royal Family. By giving it to Calca, the "meat remained in the royal pot," regardless of what happened.
Saran II looked at his son's shocked face and felt a swell of pride. That's my daughter.
What neither of them realized was that, in their subconscious, they assumed this "once-a-day" spell still required the caster to provide their own mana. Calca, however, required none. If this detail were made public, it would be ironclad proof of a living deity. Saran II hadn't asked for specifics, and Calca assumed that "divine gifts" naturally worked that way, so she hadn't mentioned it.
Thus, a small misunderstanding was born. For the people of this world, the mere fact that a deity had responded was already a staggering revelation; who would dare dream of more?
"I remember the Royal Academy has a few vacancies for guest lecturers, right?" Saran II asked, turning to Caspond. He didn't actually wait for an answer before continuing.
"Since the Temple is so eager, let's give them a push. Have Mariana go there to teach. Start tomorrow."
"But Father, won't that..." Caspond hesitated. Guest lecturers had the right to petition to borrow books from the Royal Library. He was worried the library's knowledge would allow her to break through to the Fifth Tier.
Saran II waved a hand dismissively. "Setting aside whether I'd even approve such a petition, the distance between the Fourth and Fifth Tiers isn't that easily crossed."
The King remained composed. If Mariana was the top magic authority in the kingdom, he was the one who understood the bottlenecks best. If the Fifth Tier were that easy to reach, the Imperial Wizard Fluder Paradyne would have more than one disciple at that level by now. Instead, after over a century, even his best students were stuck at the Fourth Tier.
Saran II knew the difficulty, so he wasn't worried. In fact, sending Mariana to teach was a way to pave the road for Calca. Divine blessing, brilliant talent. Calca was the most likely member of this generation to reach the Fifth Tier, so Saran II had to turn that "possibility" into a "certainty."
By not making Mariana a private tutor for Calca, he was actually being cautious. If Calca's talent didn't pan out, he had to be prepared for failure. A guest lecturer could only see so much, but a private tutor would have access to genuine royal secrets.
"Oh, and your sister asked for borrowing privileges for the Royal Library. I agreed. So, in a few days, I will personally go and remove the forbidden books and Fifth-Tier research. You can rest easy on that front."
Caspond nodded immediately. That certainly made him feel better. "I will go and make the arrangements then, Father."
"Go on."
Caspond retreated from the study. He knew the High Priestess would accept the invitation to teach without a second thought, but how the invitation was delivered would determine the political impact.
As Caspond was pondering the logistics, he suddenly saw his sister poke her head out from around a corner further down the hall. When she saw him, she began waving her hand frantically.
Caspond chuckled, then quickened his pace to meet her.