The Owner of All Creation is Only One

Chapter 41

There are only two things in this world that could unite mortal enemies, one is money and the other is religion.

During the hours when the Sun God Praus fled from the Moon Goddess.

Within the grimiest, most shunned sector of the capital’s outer slums, a clandestine gathering was underway in the cellar of a building.

“Humanity is sinful and deserves to be punished… Humanity is sinful and deserves to be punished…”

“We are all sinners… We are all sinners…”

“Curses upon the Sun God… Curses upon the Sun God…”

“Blessings upon the Moon Goddess… Blessings upon the Moon Goddess…”

Around an incense burner that was emitting gray smoke, the murmurs of dozens of devotees continued ceaselessly.

In some ways, this place was the most egalitarian place in the world.

With a black hood drawn low, all could participate, irrespective of social standing or class, young or old, without restriction to their actions.

For according to the doctrines of the Penance Church, all souls in this world were sinners, alike in their transgression.

How long had the gathering been underway?

The priest stepped forward, pouring water into the censer.

“Then, with this, we shall conclude today’s act of contrition. Until the next gathering, let all live, as always, mindful of your inherent sin.”

With the priest’s dismissal and the scent fading, the faithful ascended in order, then scattered in their separate ways.

But not all departed. Gathered in an alley, slightly removed from the assembly site, stood four men.

“Haa, today’s gathering was truly…fulfilling.”

“Indeed, it was.”

“As always, this feeling, of the sin accumulated within being cleansed…it is unbearable to resist.”

“Utterly refreshing, wouldn’t you agree?”

Their names were Rochefield, Barkley, Renoir, and Abellier.

Two were leading figures in the aristocratic faction, and the other two were key figures in the anti-aristocratic faction.

In other words, they were, under normal circumstances, relations that could easily be enemies.

Yet, here they were, gathered, conversing in amicable tones. This could only be explained by the power of faith.

“By the way…are the two of you faring well?”

Rochefield cautiously broached the topic. Renoir and Abellier, sensing the intent behind his words, darkened their expressions.

“Difficult to say we are well.”

“Frankly, we are already under suspicion by Chancellor Erickson.”

Upon hearing the words ‘under suspicion,’ Rochefield and Barkley also sighed.

“We are in a similar position.”

“The Duke seems to already be distancing himself from us.”

The source of the trouble was the Minister, who had ordered his subordinate to approach their daughters, making the act almost blatant to both factions.

Everyone knew that the Minister never acted without reason, and so the Chancellor and the Duke suspected those within their factions who had been targeted by him.

“Hmph, this is indeed…”

“Just where did the information leak?”

They did not suspect each other.

Even if someone were to betray the others, being exposed as a member of a place like the Penance Church would undoubtedly impact the betrayer as well.

They each held the weaknesses of the others in their grasp, so to speak.

“For now, until the next gathering, let us all lie low, as best we can.”

“Indeed, that’s how it must be. Can’t have anything preventing attendance at the assembly, after all.”

The four men, heads nodding, stumbled off towards their respective homes.

—

“That file I gave you before, it seems it was of some help, then.”

My mother’s words, as we shared tea, caught me off guard.

A file? What was she referring to?

Did I even receive something?

Ah, perhaps she meant that matchmaking candidate file.

“Your father thinks little of it, but surprisingly, important information often emerges from conversations between wives. Especially at gatherings where just about anyone can participate, those are the ones.”

Hmm. Certainly, information like which daughter of which family is particularly accomplished is invaluable in the marriage market.

But I have no intention of getting married.

“Hehe, don’t worry, I’m not particularly trying to bother you. It’s simply an action born of parental concern, is all.”

I could understand her apprehension about her grown son deciding to remain a bachelor, so I offered no further argument and simply nodded in silence.

“……By the way, how are things going with Miss Chirner, whom you met before?”

How are things? Still the same, I’d say?

I deflected further probing from my mother with evasive answers, and then ended our tea time and left the house.

Coming to the family home always wears me out in one way or another.

But if I don’t come at all, she gets upset, so I have to show my face from time to time.

Right, now, what to do?

Lunchtime has long passed, and it’s still a somewhat awkward time to return to the Intelligence Bureau, so should I just knock off for the day?

I pondered it for a moment, but eventually decided to clock out and headed to the market to buy some dinner supplies and indulge in a few treats.

It was nearly evening, and wonderful aromas were wafting enticingly from everywhere.

Everything looks so delicious today, for some reason.

I’d love to try it all, but I can’t possibly eat it all myself, so I should buy several things and share them with the bodyguards.

So, I was about to go and buy some chicken skewers that caught my eye, when suddenly, an intense fragrance assaulted my nose.

“Minister? Is something the matter?”

Perhaps because I had turned my head without thinking, the Intelligence Bureau agent acting as my bodyguard asked me with a puzzled expression.

Instead of answering his question, I tracked the person who had just passed by with my nose and eyes.

What an incredible scent.

Is it a new perfume?

Knowing my curiosity wouldn’t be quenched, I decided I had to ask. I raised a finger, pointing towards the person receding into the distance.

“…Yes, understood.”

As if having caught the same scent, the intelligence agent, quick to grasp my intent, promptly gave chase.

The man was already growing distant, but having dispatched the agent, I felt no fear of losing him.

I and the remaining guards followed at a leisurely pace, unknowingly drifting into the slum district.

Yet, strangely, upon entering the slums, the scent I’d detected earlier intensified.

Surely, they weren’t crafting perfume in a place like this?

Not to denigrate the slums, but the hygiene…well, it left something to be desired.

In that moment, the agent who’d been trailing the passing man returned, bowing his head.

“My apologies, Minister. I lost him.”

“It’s alright.”

I have a good idea of the scent’s source.

Undoubtedly, it’s where they’re manufacturing the perfume. We’ll simply go and inquire about the price.

Though, a thorough inspection of the product’s manufacturing environment must come first, of course.

“This way.”

I followed the fragrance deeper into the heart of the slums.

With each step, the scent grew stronger, but in equal measure, the surroundings became increasingly squalid.

As a result, signs of life were diminishing.

Perhaps I should reconsider this purchase.

“Here it is.”

Reaching a dilapidated, crumbling building, I craned my neck, gazing at the sign hanging precariously.

It seemed it had once been a tavern.

One of the guards approached the building and cautiously opened the door.

The interior was deserted.

Would it be alright to simply enter?

“Minister!”

Whether it was the sheer filth or something else, the guards clearly did not want to enter. I however, stepped inside.

It seemed a waste to be crafting perfume of this caliber in such a place.

With my investment, producing it in a more conducive environment, surely, an even finer product would emerge.

Lost in such thoughts, I kicked the wooden wall from where the scent emanated most strongly.

Then, a passage leading downwards revealed itself.

Indeed. A secret workshop, it was.

“How could you possibly…?”

“I smelled it.”

He answered his guards trailing behind him, then descended the stairs.

—

“Minister…?”

Appearing suddenly and without warning, the Disciplinary Sect priests preparing for their next gathering felt a surge of perplexity at the Minister’s appearance, but simultaneously recognized an opportunity.

‘We knew we’d be found out eventually. Even though we haven’t even finished the first stage of the original plan, if it has come to this, we can simply skip the steps and execute it right away.’

The original plan was to intoxicate the core of the imperial government with drugs, thereby instigating chaos from within.

However, considering that the entire process was ultimately intended to secure the Minister, the present situation could even be considered a stroke of good fortune.

‘Just as well that Götz is away. If we can secure the Minister in this lull, a position among the executives is not beyond reach!’

And so, the priests drew their respective weapons, but the Minister showed no particular reaction.

It was as if he had lost interest because there was nothing of what he anticipated.

“Haa.”

The Minister let out a small sigh, and as if in response, his escorting intelligence officers charged toward the priests in unison.

The priests engaged in the battle with a confident demeanor.

“Hmph! As if common agents, and not even Owls, could hope to defeat us!”

To consider them ordinary priests would be a grave misjudgment.

The priests of the Disciplinary Sect were all carefully selected by Götz Umbarev, with a significant number being former mercenaries or adventurers.

In other words, they were professionals of combat.

Their combat strength surpassed even the advanced combatants of the Oracle with ease.

“We’ll show you the difference in level!”

—

When the long-awaited day of the gathering finally arrived, Rochefield, Barkley, Renoir, and Abelliene set off for the meeting place with eager hearts.

Underground, numerous devotees were already gathered in groups of twos and threes, waiting for the priests.

To be more precise, they were hoping the priests would come quickly and light the incense.

Only when inhaling the incense could they forget everything else and focus solely on repentance.

“Oh, the priests are here!”

“Priest!”

“Hurry, hurry with the incense…!”

Cheers erupted from every corner as those cloaked in hooded priestly robes appeared.

They longed to inhale the incense.

To confess, feeling lighter with each breath of its fragrance.

To grant the desperate wishes of the yearning souls, one of the priests approached the censer.

And then.

With all his might, he kicked the censer, sending it tumbling over.

“Eh…?”

“What…?”

“Priest…?”

The priest, seeing their utter confusion at the overturned censer, spread his arms wide and began to speak in a solemn voice.

“You are sinners.”

The devotees responded.

“Yes! We are sinners!”

“So please, light the incense so we may repent!”

The priest continued.

“The master of all creation, governing this world, is only one. Heaven and earth, and all that lies between, exists by Him. Exists for Him. Belongs to Him.”

The expressions of the devotees gradually shifted, growing uneasy.

Some, quicker to understand, attempted to flee, but it was in vain.

Already, all the exits were blocked by priests.

Or rather, by those cloaked in priestly robes.

“You have forgotten His grace, daring to worship a new faith. Therefore, in the name of His Most August Majesty, Emperor Sylvester Acherus, I shall deliver your punishment.”

The priests cast off their priestly robes in unison.

Intelligence agents revealed themselves.

The Minister revealed himself.

He declared.

“Come now, it is a time for repentance.”