After several days had passed since humans and demons began walking the unprecedented path of cooperation, people were adapting to the new era’s order with astonishing speed, without any confusion.
This rapid adaptation was partially influenced by the Emperor and the Church’s full support, as well as the aid programs for migrants.
However, the primary reason lay in the realization that demonic energy wasn’t as horrifying as once thought and, for some reason, emotions of demons were not difficult to read.
Beneath the surface, there were already frequent discussions about extending cooperation beyond territorial boundaries to work more proactively with the demons.
Humans could provide knowledge and tools to demons who wanted to farm, while demons could offer their naturally superior physical strength to humans.
In this mutually beneficial relationship, people naturally desired broader exchanges.
As the first step proved difficult but the second became easier, the royal family began preparing yet another new decree.
The greatest beneficiaries of this process were the people living near the dungeons.
Initially, these areas were undesirable places of residence, mostly occupied by those with no power or those pushed to the margins.
As if a cow accidentally catching a mouse by stepping backward, this created a miracle of “peaceful redistribution of wealth” where no one suffered loss.
Instead of bloodshed, peace was achieved through communication.
Naturally, public support for Saint Erin, who led the dialogue between the Demon King and the Emperor, and the Church of Guodun surged to unprecedented levels.
“This is all thanks to the pure and simple truth of our god, Guodun,” someone said.
“Guo-men.”
“May the plain truth of God be with us. I’ve decided to dedicate myself to the deity this time. I’m even planning to send my child to the monastery.”
For the Church of Guodun, which followed the principle of “never coercing anyone into religion,” this was an unparalleled opportunity. Without having to plead with people to “please believe in the Church of Guoden,” citizens were voluntarily converting, making this an ideal situation.
***
“Isn’t this the perfect chance to restore the Papal States? Since His Majesty the Emperor is also a believer in Guodun, he likely won’t have any objections.”
“We should formally propose this to Saint Erin and His Holiness the Pope.”
Religious leaders couldn’t resist reaching for their lifelong goal of restoring the Papal States.
The Papal States, once governed with the authority of the Pope, had controlled the Einsberg region, except for the capital city of Guodun, in an era when papal power was so high that it rivaled the Emperor’s.
However, due to corruption, including unfair practices like excessive sales of sacred artifacts, the Papal States had been dissolved, leaving only the Great Cathedral of Guodun.
Now, with public support at an all-time high and even the Emperor on the Church’s side, many high-ranking priests believed it was only a matter of time before the Papal States were reinstated.
***
“I refuse,” Saint Erin, the central figure of the Church’s authority, declared. “Our duty is solely to follow the will of God. Unless divine revelation descends upon us, we cannot recklessly create unnecessary tension with the imperial family, who are beloved by God.”
Due to Erin’s opposition, the matter remained only in the discussion phase. Yet, as she mentioned, “if divine revelation were to come,” the Church could act swiftly to establish the Papal States.
Linnea, one of the Holy Knights, who was observing everything, was most concerned about this possibility.
Even if Saint Erin had no ambitions for power, it was impossible to rule out the potential that other high-ranking priests or even the Pope might harbor ulterior motives.
When her mother, Eirene, hadn’t converted to religion, Linnea hadn’t needed to worry about such discussions. But now…
‘If it’s my current mother… she would agree without hesitation.’
Linnea was certain of it.
For the will of God, her mother would do anything.
Since the day Linnea accepted Eirene as her new mother, she had never seen her so devoted.
Similarly, all the knights who had private meetings with Erin were likely to agree swiftly to the establishment of the Papal States.
Even though the relationship between the Church and the imperial family was amicable for now, Linnea couldn’t help but consider the future.
‘What if her mother abdicated the throne, Erin retired, and a new Pope and priests filled their positions?’
‘It’s best to stop it while I can.’
Although she understood this, Linnea couldn’t think of any way to halt the situation.
Despite being chosen as a Holy Knight, the primary purpose of the knights was to confront demons that arose alongside the appearance of a saint.
However, Saint Erin had successfully resolved conflicts with the demons in an unprecedented way.
As a result, the influence of the Holy Knights, already divided into three factions, diminished.
Linnea’s role as a knight often boiled down to menial tasks.
She didn’t look down on the work itself—serving others suited her nature—but it didn’t guarantee her any authority.
If the Church deliberately chose only three Holy Knights with all these considerations in mind…
‘I mustn’t underestimate them,’ she thought.
Even if they had no ambitions, their inherent ability to secure power unconsciously was a cause for caution.
***
While deeply contemplating, Linnea continued moving salted chicken into the relief supply barrels.
“Your Highness!”
She turned at the sound of a man’s voice behind her.
A guard, clad in armor emblazoned with the royal emblem, bowed deeply in greeting.
A soldier from the royal family, not the Church, seemed to have arrived.
“There you are, Princess Linnea. I’m glad to see you in good health.”
“What brings you here?”
“Prince Ares has conveyed that he will be available to see you this evening.”
Her younger brother, who had been isolating himself despite her requests to meet, finally seemed willing to see her.
With her elder sister Yuria and their mother Eirene now fervent devotees of Igodenism, her brother was the only remaining royal relative with whom she could speak openly.
“Understood. I’ll visit him as soon as I finish my tasks.”
“Yes, Your Highness!”
***
That evening, while on her way back, Linnea encountered Ophel, who had a rabbit perched on her head.
“Good evening, Lady Ophel. And hello to you too, Rabbit.”
“Igogodon.”
“You’ve worked hard. If you’re not busy, how about training together now, Linnea? The rabbit says it’s willing to help as well.”
“I’m sorry, but I have somewhere I need to be tonight.”
“No worries, it’s fine. Forgive my imposition. Then, I’ll see you later this evening. May the rich potcha—”
“Igogodon.”
“I mean, may the plain truth be with you.”
Leaving behind Ophel and the rabbit, which made a peculiar sound, Linnea quickened her steps toward the royal palace of Guoden.
Her destination was the highest tower on the right side of the palace, where the third prince, Ares von Einsberg, resided.
Upon arrival, a maid was already waiting for her.
“Welcome, Princess. Please, follow me.”
She was guided to a door, which opened to reveal—
Sunlight streaming precariously through the curtains, scattered books across the room, and an assortment of board games, including chess and playing cards, prominently displayed.
These items demonstrated that the room’s owner had a clear preference for sedentary hobbies.
Various decorations were placed haphazardly, more like a display of items than a thoughtfully designed arrangement.
The only thing that brought unity to the space was the sound.
Scratch, scratch.
The noise of a quill pen writing on paper led Linnea to look in its direction.
There he was—the third prince and youngest of the siblings, Ares von Einsberg.
His golden hair shimmered, and his deep blue eyes reflected his undeniable royal lineage.
Once regarded as exceptionally intelligent, Ares had been the object of high expectations from their late mother.
However, he had grown into an eccentric, burying himself in the library to study obscure topics that few cared about, occasionally making bombastic declarations.
For instance, he was known to study ancient political systems like republics—concepts utterly irrelevant to an emperor’s role.
Perhaps it was fortunate that the succession had been neatly resolved with Yuria as the heir.
“Ares.”
“You’ve arrived, Sister Linnea.”
“You’ve been busy, haven’t you? You’ve avoided appearing in public for some time.”
“I’ve been writing a new book.”
“A book?”
“A novel. I wanted to create something easy for people to read. Though I hoped it would reach many readers, everyone seems too busy reading scriptures these days.”
Though his book was structured as a story, it often served as a philosophical text presenting his consistent ideas.
Eirene, who had once been critical of Ares’s writing, seemed to leave him alone now, adhering to Igodenism’s doctrine of not imposing ideas or religion on others.
“How about you, Sister? I feel like this is the first time we’ve spoken since you became part of the Holy Knight platoon. How’s it going?”
Linnea turned her head slightly before replying, “It’s going… fine.”
“Really? Does spreading the will of God suit you?”
“Yes. And aside from that, as a chosen Holy Knight, I must work hard to share the plain truth. Otherwise, I’d disgrace the royal family’s name.”
Ares blinked at her before commenting, “You’ve always been a terrible liar, Sister.”
“…What?”
“You have a tell. When you lie, you blink rapidly.”
While Linnea looked flustered, Ares maintained a calm tone.
“And if you were truly so focused on spreading the ‘plain truth,’ you wouldn’t need to visit me, would you?”
Linnea hesitated before lowering her head.
There was no point in lying.
After a brief pause, just as she was about to broach the main topic, she heard the soft tap of Ares setting his quill down on the table.
“Sister, you said you had something to discuss? Well, whatever it is, the opportunity will naturally present itself without us doing anything.”
“You already know what I was going to say, don’t you?”
“You want to balance the power dynamics by keeping the Church in check, correct?”
Linnea’s silence was her confirmation.
Ares had always had a sharp mind.
Even now, he demonstrated how unusual his perspective was.
“God doesn’t exist, and Saint Erin is just another human. Her power isn’t eternal. Eventually, dissatisfaction will surface, and that’s when we’ll naturally have the chance to act. There’s no point in antagonizing the Guoden Church now. Doing so would only invite unnecessary trouble, especially since public support for them is so high. Suppressing popular sentiment by force would only lead to an inevitable explosion.”
And then, with the unshakable authority of being the only male heir of the Einsberg royal line, Ares spoke with casual indifference, as though discussing dinner options—
“Even if such an opportunity comes, who says it must belong to us, the Einsbergs?”
“Even Guoden says it: old things are bad, new things are good. And every principle upholding this empire is old.”
“Ares, you—!”
He had spoken words that no member of the royal family should ever utter.