Dawn had just broken.
An Orc stepped out of his house and headed toward the central plaza of Atester City.
More Orcs gathered, converging for a demonstration before the Saintess on behalf of their kin.
The news reached Frezeya Manor.
‘Clang——’
Aililan slammed her breakfast bowl upside down on the table, fuming. “A march? A protest? The Orcs are on the verge of rioting, and the Parliament over there isn’t doing anything?”
She took a deep breath.
Aililan righted the overturned bowl and continued eating her breakfast.
The head maid, Yarandale, however, clearly saw that her own Saintess’s eyes held a barely concealed spark of anger.
Ibisos and the others were waiting to see a joke, thinking the Saintess was just hiding away in the depths of the manor? This made some people believe she’d already been scared out of her wits.
【Hahaha, I told you so, that Saintess is naïve. She’s probably so anxious she’s about to burst into tears, right?】
【What a disappointment. I thought at least she’d resist a little.】
【Didn’t the Saintess want to get involved in politics? This is the first lesson we’re giving her.】
【Politics is about compromise. Let’s see her come begging to us, haha.】
Ibisos couldn’t hide his smile, speaking with self-satisfaction, “This is nothing yet. We’re only on our first move.”
But Aililan, in reality?
She wasn’t the least bit anxious.
She was just considering one thing: If she acted on her own will and stayed hardline to the end, what kind of impact and consequences would it bring?
“The worst would be war.”
“If the Orcs come to attack, countless people will die, be forced from their homes. Would I still be a qualified Saintess then?”
But very soon, Aililan laughed.
She analyzed with remarkable clarity, “If—I’m saying if—a country went to war just because its citizen broke the law and was executed in another nation, do you think that’s possible?”
“Even if we go a step further.”
“If the Orcs want to fight, even if I treat the Orcs living in the city like super-citizens, they’ll still come.”
“If the Orcs don’t want to fight, even if I wipe out every Orc in the city, they wouldn’t make a sound. They’d only cover it up themselves.”
Moreover.
War would come sooner or later.
It was just a matter of time.
So Aililan didn’t need to compromise with those behind-the-scenes instigators who were stirring up the Orc protests.
The Saintess is compassionate and loving.
But the Saintess is not a self-sacrificing fool.
Aililan took a deep breath and called for the head maid, Yarandale. “Deliver my order: Go to the Rinzheng Tribunal’s Military Police Office and request they dispatch soldiers to assist the Inspection Office and City Guard in maintaining order.”
“Remember, do it publicly. Speak loudly, say my request in front of everyone.”
Aililan needed the military to make a statement—and more importantly, she needed to see just how many in the army were in cahoots with the Parliament’s dovish faction.
As expected, Yarandale had barely finished reading Aililan’s request at the Rinzheng Tribunal when an uproar broke out, putting the military on the spot.
To agree, or not to agree?
In the Fourth Feather Legion’s internal meeting.
The vice commander of the Fourth Feather Legion, Gareyas, asked, “Commander, what do you think? Parliament strictly forbids us from deploying troops, but the Saintess is calling us to reinforce the defense.”
The Legion’s commander, Malcolm, frowned. “We’re blocked both ways!”
“Commander, I have to remind you, the Saintess is our supreme object of loyalty. The army is the Church’s army, not Parliament’s private soldiers.”
“But Gareyas, have you considered what will happen if, after her training, the Saintess simply returns to the Holy Land? How would we face the Parliament then?”
“So that’s your worry. I did overlook that.”
“No.” Malcolm shook his head. “We must make our position clear, but I won’t use the army. The sword of the Fourth Feather Legion points outward, not inward.”
“Tell the men below to have their personal guards and attendants wear their House Emblem.”
“If you trust Parliament, go to Parliament.”
“If you want to follow the Saintess, go to the Saintess.”
Gareyas asked, “And you, sir?”
Malcolm sighed. “As commander, I alone cannot take sides. Only if I remain at the head of the Fourth Feather Legion can I keep you from choosing sides and prevent even a single soldier from being taken to launch internal strife.”
“But that’s not fair to you. No matter who wins or loses, you won’t benefit.”
“But that’s politics. There are always sacrifices. Besides, I’m already fifty-six—time for you young folks to take charge.”
“Commander……”
“Enough. Gareyas, who do you favor?”
“The Saintess.”
“Why?”
“Don’t you think it’s overstepping for Parliament to actually force the Saintess to compromise?”
Gareyas’s eyes shone as he continued, “Even taking a big step back, we’re only one of the Feathers under the Fifth Wing Region.”
“You’re worried the Saintess will finish her training and return to the Holy Land.”
“But have you thought about this: The Church has the Six Wing Regions, but only the Fifth Wing is without a resident Saintess. Now, by chance, Saintess Aililan has come to train here. By chance, Atester City is near the frontline. By chance, the Orcs are stirring up trouble and resources are scarce—a war could break out at any moment.”
“There are too many ‘coincidences’ for this to be mere coincidence. Right now, we of the Fourth Feather Legion are closest to Saintess Aililan. For me, that’s an opportunity.”
Malcolm looked deeply at his longtime vice commander, and after a long silence, sighed, “Go on, pledge your loyalty to the Saintess you recognize!”
In the end.
Those who arrived at the front of Aililan’s manor accounted for about forty percent of the Fourth Feather Legion’s officers. She was pleased with the result.
She personally received Gareyas and asked him one question: “Do you think my actions will split the Fourth Feather Legion?”
Gareyas was silent for a while.
He pondered what Aililan meant—perhaps she was asking if cutting off those sixty percent of officers would hurt the Legion.
Gareyas replied,
“Saintess Aililan, I’m not sure if I should say this.”
“Go ahead.”
“The military never lacks people who want to get ahead.”
“What about ability, character, and command? Can you guarantee that?”
“In response, Saintess, some have lost their sharpness long ago. Their faith has faded, their loyalty wavers. They’ll only become obstacles when war comes. I swear to you, a force with only one voice—yours—will only grow stronger.”
Aililan helped Gareyas up personally, laughing. “Good, well said.”
Gareyas asked resolutely, “Saintess, do you have any orders?”
Aililan smiled, “No, you have no tasks. Or rather, the commander has done very well. The army does not take sides in internal disputes—this is enough.”
“You can tell Malcolm.”
“His old age will surely be a happy one.”
“I swear it, in the name of the Saintess.”
After sending Gareyas off,
Aililan finally let out a long breath.
At the same time,
What Aililan didn’t know was that
In the grand Cathedral at the city center, the long-unseen Bishop Wilma was now kneeling tightly on the ground, thinking her Saintess was being completely overwhelmed by Parliament and was as good as done for.
So,
She decided to call for help.
As the light from the teleportation array slowly faded, Wilma’s eyes widened in shock, an expression of disbelief crossing her face.
She had thought getting an Archbishop would be enough to thank the heavens, but what she summoned turned out to be…