Chapter 219: How Many Tasks Have You Handled? (1)
Those who followed the Archbishop stood up without hesitation, pointing their fingers at Porisco and shouting.
“A man cannot receive revelations! The Holy Scripture clearly states that only the Holy Maiden can do so! How can you, a bishop, not know that?”
“Besides, you’ve never once dedicated yourself to spreading the goddess’s will or sharing the gospel with the world! All you’ve done is take bribes!”
“Honestly, considering how you’ve lived so far, it doesn’t even make sense for you to have become a bishop in the first place! Have some conscience! There’s no need for any verification!”
To be recognized as a saint, there were certain conditions one had to meet. Among those, Porisco fulfilled none.
Of all the priests gathered in the hall, Porisco had undoubtedly taken the most bribes and committed the most wrongdoing.
The only reason he got away with it was that others had engaged in their fair share of misdeeds and looked the other way for one another.
However, no matter how corrupt they were, priests were still priests. A man like him being recognized as a saint was absolutely intolerable. For someone like Porisco to become a saint would be tantamount to declaring the end of the world.
Of course, the bishops who supported Porisco caused an uproar, insisting he should be recognized as a saint.
“Hah! If someone who received a revelation isn’t a saint, then who is?”
“This is what everyone desires!”
“You blasphemers, defying the will of the divine! Don’t act like you didn’t take bribes yourselves!”
The priests quarreled with one another like aristocrats embroiled in political games, exchanging insults and bickering for days. If the conflict grew any worse, it seemed the church might split in two.
In the end, Porisco smacked his lips and took a step back. Even a man as greedy as him knew when to retreat.
‘Hmm, it seems this is still a bit too much for now. I’ll need a bit more time. If I gain the church’s recognition, the royal family will lend their support as well.’
This was a matter requiring acknowledgment from both the church and the kingdom. Only with overwhelming influence—enough to achieve unanimous agreement—would it be possible.
Receiving the title of saint was no easy task. That was why it often took a long time, with most saints being canonized posthumously.
‘Tsk, if only I could display overwhelming divine power like the Holy Maiden, this would be much easier...’
Though he felt a pang of regret, he wasn’t too bothered.
The believers in the capital already revered and followed him. The Archbishop would no longer dare touch him. His popularity had grown far too large.
‘Phew, it really feels like the goddess saved me in my final moments. Or was it that brat who suddenly appeared and saved me? Damn it! In any case, I won’t rest easy until I get my hands on that contract.’
I narrowly escaped death thanks to that brat, but I lost all my wealth to Baron Fenris, and he’s even holding my weakness over me. I’ve been forced into a life of “integrity.”
Still, if I keep living virtuously like this, I might eventually earn the title of a saint.
Porisco suddenly felt a strange sense of unease.
“Living virtuously? Me? Have I gone mad?”
Ever since meeting that brat, he felt like something had gone wrong with him.
* * *
“Well, I figured becoming a saint would be a tough sell.”
Ghislain chuckled lightly after hearing the news.
If becoming a saint were that easy, then every dog and cow would be walking around with the title.
People’s envy and jealousy are more frightening than one might think. Priests, in particular, held honor but lacked the absolute power of nobles to wield authority at their discretion. That made them even more susceptible.
There was no way they’d readily agree to Porisco being appointed a saint. Priests from other orders even went out of their way to slander him.
After all, they didn’t want to see a saint emerge either.
“Well, it shouldn’t be too hard for him to rise to archbishop in a few years.”
The current archbishop had rapidly lost his influence, whereas Porisco’s sway had grown immensely—far beyond comparison to the past.
Unless he made a major blunder, Porisco’s faction would hold significant control over the church’s administration.
“If he becomes the archbishop... I’ll have to make him allocate some dioceses and send over more priests and temple knights.”
It would probably make Porisco furious if he heard, but Ghislain fully intended to scrape the bottom of the barrel and milk every last benefit out of the situation.
“Well, I’ll wrap this up for now...”
There was someone he needed to meet while in the capital.
He had been planning to visit eventually after the war ended, but now that he was here for the matter with Piote, it would save him time to handle it now.
“Guess I’ll go pay the Marquis a visit. He must have heard plenty about me by now.”
The commotion wasn’t confined to the church. The nobles residing in the capital were equally abuzz, endlessly gossiping about Ghislain’s antics.
“A divine revelation? Predicting the drought with that? Is it just another baseless rumor tied to that guy? I’m telling you, that duck is a black magician!”
Kingdom Army Supreme Commander, Marquis Maurice McQuarrie, exclaimed in shock upon hearing the news. Even though he was someone prone to superstition, he couldn’t believe such a tale.
This wasn’t the first time ridiculous rumors had caused an uproar in the capital. The prior frenzy had concerned how Count Fenris won his war.
“The whole thing about the revelation, not to mention the matters related to the war. I may as well ask you directly. How exactly did you capture that fortress so quickly?”
At Marquis Branford’s question, Ghislain answered with unflinching honesty.
“Since it’s you, Marquis, I’ll tell you plainly. I built a flying contraption and infiltrated the enemy fortress with 100 knights. We ambushed the soldiers guarding the gate, eliminated them, and then I personally broke down the gate, allowing our forces to pour in and wipe out the enemy.”
“...”
It was exactly as the informants had reported—the same absurd rumors.
When the Marquis of Branford remained silent, Ghislain cautiously spoke up.
“Well... Is there anything else you’re curious about?”
“...You flew in? With knights? A hundred knights, you say?”
“Yes!”
“And how did you break through the castle gate?”
“I destroyed it myself.”
“By yourself... you destroyed it?”
“That’s correct!”
“...”
It was already a well-known fact that Fenris had no knights. But what? A hundred knights? A mere baron claiming numbers only a grand lord could command?
As for flying in, that was so ludicrous it wasn’t even worth discussing.
And most unbelievable of all, breaking through a thick castle gate alone in an instant? In the entire kingdom, only two individuals were capable of such a feat: Count Balzac, a Sword Master, and the commander of the Royal Knights.
‘And even that isn’t confirmed information—no one’s actually seen it happen.’
Regardless, they had only achieved such feats after reaching middle age.
No matter how talented someone might be, it was utterly impossible for someone of Ghislain’s age.
“Pfft!!”
Standing nearby, Knight Commander Toleo of the Marquisate couldn’t help but burst into laughter at what he’d overheard.
When the Marquis of Branford shot him a sharp glare, Toleo quickly straightened up and apologized.
“...My apologies.”
The Marquis of Branford could count on one hand the number of times he had been truly flustered in his life. Yet ever since meeting Ghislain, such moments had become far more frequent.
Pressing his temples with his fingers a few times, the marquis shook his head and spoke.
“Fine. I’ll take it as military secrecy. You don’t want to explain it in detail, and I understand that the ducal families might use it to find a countermeasure. I’ll ensure no one investigates further into this matter.”
‘...I didn’t realize I was so untrustworthy.’
Ghislain clicked his tongue without realizing it.
In any case, the hot air balloons would soon be used for transport and reconnaissance within his territory. As for the knights, the more they performed, the more rumors would inevitably spread.
Since it was all bound to come to light eventually, he hadn’t intended to keep it hidden from the start.
However, with the current state of common sense, even when he told the truth, no one believed him.
‘Once they see it for themselves, they’ll understand sooner or later. About my abilities as well... No, they might keep doubting even then.’
After all, he was only a half-step Master at best. The techniques he used weren’t ones he could wield easily. Not that he had any intention of publicly proving himself just to gain recognition.
What did it matter whether others believed him or not? He wasn’t doing this to impress anyone.
Unaware of Ghislain’s thoughts, the Marquis of Branford clicked his tongue and shifted to the main topic.
“You didn’t come here just for a simple greeting. Tell me, what do you need?”
“As expected, you’re always quick to the point. It’s a relief speaking with you. I’d like you to grant me an official position.”
The Marquis of Branford tilted his head at that.
A man who avoided being tied down suddenly asking for an official position? And nominally, Ghislain already held the title—the Northern Military Supply Officer.
“What position are you asking for?”
“Appoint me as the Commander of the Northern Army.”
“...”
The Marquis of Branford was momentarily at a loss for words.
As always, Ghislain had come asking for something massive.