“So, how does this ‘method’ work? Sorry, but I’m clueless when it comes to divine power.”
Although divine power was also rooted in magic, Dana truly knew nothing about it.
No, to begin with, what humans and elves knew about divine power was limited to something as vague as, “Divine power uses magic in a subtle way.”
Its strength varied depending on an individual’s emotions and the depth of their faith.
That single fact alone could drive countless mages to frustration.
Mages, who studied magic based on firmly established, logical methods like formulas, could never understand the laws built upon the illogical foundation of human emotions.
This incomprehensible power occasionally brought about truly monumental “miracles.”
Bringing the hero Shihyun into this world alone was an extraordinary feat.
Of course, that event was less about divine power and more directly about the goddess’s strength.
“…When people gathered to hold a memorial service, I felt something.”
All eyes in the room turned to Pia.
She, somewhat uncharacteristically, felt a hint of nervousness under the party members’ gazes as she continued.
“Divine power isn’t a separate force that exists in isolation. It’s the power that connects us to the goddess, and therefore, it’s also the goddess’s power itself. By worshiping her, we’re only refining and bringing a tiny fraction of that power into the world.”
Hearing this, Dana’s expression made it clear she had a lot to say but was holding back.
Pia felt grateful for her restraint and carried on.
“Therefore, the divine power I summon and the divine power summoned by many people collectively can fundamentally be the same. Just as there are great spells in magic where multiple people pool their mana, divine power can also produce miracles through the collective prayers of many.”
“…And you’re saying you sensed that potential during the service?”
“Yes.”
Pia nodded in response to Arna’s question.
“…Alright, I see. I’ve got a lot of questions, honestly, but I doubt I’d get answers to all of them even if I asked, so I’ll leave it at that for now.”
“Thank you for your understanding.”
“No need to thank me… Anyway.”
Dana rubbed the back of her neck with her palm as she spoke.
“But if we want to hold another service like that, we’ll need a strong enough reason. From what I hear, the power you ‘felt’ requires much more than a simple weekend prayer service could ever provide, right? Mourning and celebrations are both starting to wind down. People are returning to their daily lives. Under these circumstances, do you really think it’s possible to gather such a massive amount of power again?”
“Admittedly, it won’t be easy.”
Pia nodded at Dana’s doubts.
“Divine power is determined by the depth of the believer’s faith. Everyday worship wouldn’t even come close to being enough.”
“Then what?”
“Then…”
Pia glanced briefly at Kalia.
Following her gaze, Dana and Arna’s eyes also shifted.
Both seemed to quickly catch on to what Pia was hinting at.
“So that’s why you said you needed my strength.”
Of course, Kalia had realized it too.
As a saintess, Pia might be able to convince the king.
She might even succeed in gathering the people of the capital.
Perhaps she could draw out their sincere faith as well.
The king was currently receiving immense support from the people—perhaps even adoration.
If he could successfully handle the post-war recovery, he might one day be called a “Great King.”
But the capital’s population alone wouldn’t suffice.
To invoke divine power on a scale worthy of being called a “miracle” would require an unimaginable number of people.
Since it had never been attempted before, no one knew just how many would be needed.
Although physically moving closer to the goddess wasn’t possible, everyone in the party would need to be able to communicate with her like Pia, even if only for a moment.
At least three people would need divine power on par with Pia’s.
This was a simple calculation, and the actual number required for collective communication could be even higher.
The more followers they had, the better.
The duchy of Reshvia, where Kalia’s family hailed from, might hold the key.
“I can’t guarantee it will work.”
Kalia spoke honestly.
“My brother is an unreadable man.”
That brother was Louis la Reshvia, the current ruler of the Reshvia duchy and its heir.
Always expressionless, Louis was infamous for being impossible to read.
During the war, he consistently cooperated with the kingdom.
However, in conflicts between the royal family and the nobility, he always remained neutral.
Nobles often cursed him as someone loyal to the crown, while some royals criticized him for not showing absolute loyalty.
Yet, he always secured benefits for himself in the process—so effectively that it left onlookers speechless.
Thus, both royals and nobles remained wary of Louis, never knowing which side he might take next.
At the same time, they secretly hoped he would side with them.
His power stemmed entirely from Reshvia—a vast, fertile territory with a large population.
As for Kalia, the duke’s second daughter, she had effectively run away, disliking the idea of a political marriage.
Despite this, her brother Louis had kept writing her letters.
They were usually simple messages asking about her well-being, but Kalia suspected he maintained contact to preserve his relationship with her, the youngest knight commander in history.
“But it’s also true that I’m the only one who can do this. Fine, I’ll do it.”
Kalia nodded.
Whether it would work or not was uncertain, but it was worth a try.
Louis might have been difficult to read, but he operated on a clear principle: if it meant growing the family’s influence, he was willing to act.
“Thank you.”
“For what? A request like this is nothing among comrades.”
Kalia said with a hearty laugh, though her expression soon grew more serious.
“That said, I can’t make any guarantees. Even if Louis agrees to my request, we’ll need preparation time. We’ll have to exchange letters with the royal family, reconcile any differences, and spread the word to the duchy’s people about the set date… From what you’re saying, this absolutely can’t be done forcibly.”
“That’s right.”
Of course, Kalia wasn’t the type to force the people into anything.
“Gathering as many people as possible to pray with genuine faith… huh.”
Kalia let out a short, incredulous laugh.
“This really is a difficult task.”
“But there’s no other way. At least with modern magic, it’s impossible to bring back the souls of the dead.”
Dana stated firmly.
“…If such a thing were to happen, the goddess herself would likely intervene.”
“Exactly. And in that case, the hero’s target for subjugation would probably be me.”
Dana chuckled softly.
“But, well, it’s not so bad.”
Leaning back against her chair, she added with a smile:
“Taking on challenges that are nearly impossible—that’s what mages do.”
“And turning the impossible into possible is also the duty of a mage.”
Arna chimed in, directing her words to Dana.
The tension in the room eased slightly.
The possibility was still incredibly faint, and whether it could even be implemented was unknown, but the fact that there was some possibility brought a small measure of relief to their hearts.
“We’ll need at least a month. It’s not just about the victory celebration; we’ll need a grand festival. Something so lively it draws out both those stuck indoors and those busy with work. And it should be a festival that inspires gratitude toward both the kingdom and the goddess.”
“…That’s true.”
Even though Pia had made the suggestion, the scale had grown absurdly large.
All she had wanted was…
Just to express her gratitude.
“But it’s worth trying.”
Dana said with a tired but genuine smile.
“Yeah, I agree.”
Arna nodded.
“If nothing else, we should be able to see with our own eyes just how much the world we saved has been healed.”
At Arna’s words, Pia lifted her head.
It seemed that Arna wasn’t the only one who had noticed Pia with her head hung low.
“What, did you think we’d demand something extraordinary in return?”
Dana asked teasingly.
“Our thoughts aren’t so different from yours. We’ve been together for five years now.”
Kalia added.
“So… let’s push through to the end. I’ll see if I can find any more ways to help.”
Arna, for the first time in a long while, smiled as she spoke.