The Vastness of Magical Destiny
Chapter 383: Volume 7: The Awakening Spring Thunder, - 9: Heaven Rewards the Diligent_5

Chapter 383: Volume 7: The Awakening Spring Thunder, Chapter 9: Heaven Rewards the Diligent_5

"Hmm, this movement is indeed worth paying attention to. I will send a letter to Archbishop Heseltine of the Nicosia Diocese as well as Bishop Tulado of the Homer region when the time comes, asking them to keep an eye on the situation in this area. Preaching and spreading the faith is something our Church of Light has never been content to be second-best at, especially within the boundaries of the Kingdom of Nicosia, where we cannot afford to fall behind. However, I must also remind Captain Kent to urge knights Green and Jep to steadfastly complete the tasks assigned to them. Though we cannot act now due to lack of evidence and the circumstances, should there be solid proof that this lord is indeed a real Dark wizard, particularly a Necromancer, no matter who he is, we must take decisive action. Of course, before taking action, you must inform me first so that we can coordinate adequately. Moreover, when we take action, it is not necessarily to put the other party to death. If they are willing to turn to good, the doors of our Church of Light will always be open to those who have lost their way and wish to return."

Archbishop Frenster’s words were imbued with a righteous solemnity, touching Captain Kent’s heart as deeply as the beat of drums at dusk or bells at dawn. Even Kent did not understand why he was so easily moved at this time. Maybe it was the special environment and atmosphere of the place that allowed him, a knight dedicated to the Church of Light, to merge more readily with the God of Light. Of course, he was unaware that the Archbishop before him had once again performed a spiritual cleansing while adding a blessing of the Holy Spirit’s voice to deepen this paladin’s loyalty, who had some dissatisfaction with the Church meddling in secular power struggles.

Kent’s departure once again shrouded the central hall of Pericles Cathedral in an elegant quietude. Sitting in his chair, Frenster quietly savored the tranquility before him. The world was like a game of chess; not every move could be controlled by one’s own hands. Yet, if one could predict the trend and hold the general situation within one’s grasp, that would suffice. Perfection, in fact, lay in imperfection. To take and to give up, it is only through giving up that one acquires anything, a concept not everyone understands.

Slender fingers like those of a woman tapped gently on the armrest of the grand chair. It was only in these moments of solitude that Frenster could let down his guard, and the shade of gloom and worry that usually masked his face resurfaced. None of these current concerns mattered now; the peals from the bell of West Fan Palace, located no more than five miles from Pericles Cathedral, bore the unique privilege reserved for His Holiness the Pope alone. The Holy Virtue Golden Bell was his to use, and its sonorous ring, while not particularly unusual, could reach a hundred miles away. Such an honor was probably the ultimate pursuit of every Archbishop.

At that thought, Frenster couldn’t help but let out a wry laugh. When had he begun to analyze himself so deeply? Sanctity appeared to have become a term from legend. Perhaps those devoid of desire, even within the Church of Light, would find it difficult to survive. Subconsciously licking his lower lip, his gaze swept over the rows of dark, simple wooden benches in the central hall. Frenster stood up and slowly paced to the door of the central hall, where golden sunshine poured over the church square, resplendent in its radiance. The sturdy buildings flanking the square stood solemnly under the cobalt sky and the beaming sunlight, while in the fountain at the center, water leaped high into the air, shimmering beautifully. Startled pigeons took flight, adding to the dynamic interplay of stillness and movement, light and shadow, harmony and unity that all converged there.

His Holiness the Pope’s body, too, seemed to have experienced an unimaginable miracle, enduring until now without faltering. Frenster found it almost unbelievable, yet it was indeed the case. Full of ambition, he could only suppress his feelings, for everything still required waiting and patience. The Court zealots seemed to have sensed something amiss, with Noyola’s behavior appearing unusually active. Did he also wish to join this power struggle or was he unwilling to let the position fall into his own hands?

His penetrating, ethereal gaze became somewhat unfocused at that moment. The soft thud of his scepter falling to the ground brought the bewildered Archbishop abruptly back to reality, chastising himself internally. How could he possibly entertain other thoughts at a time like this? Had decades of striving led to cowardice at the end? If his soul had been sullied by worldly dust, then there was no need to pretend to be holy; perhaps returning to his true nature would also be a suitable choice.