Chapter 524 — The Church's Spokesperson

Because the magic that encircles the world rises and falls in cycles, on a clear winter night one can often see more stars than on a summer night.

In the windless dark, the ink-blue sky was strewn with stars—that vault of heaven which had borne countless centuries of humanity's magnificent fantasies hung over the world like a layer of glazed glass, limpid and beautiful, yet forever out of reach. Man-made lights glittered through this newborn city, as though a reflection of the starfield cast down upon the earth. Virodai stood quietly in a city that was entirely strange to her, a faint holy radiance wreathing her and shutting out the cold winter air.

A steady, powerful tread, making no effort at concealment, came from behind her, and then came the voice of that founding grand duke returned from the dead: "Not fond of the atmosphere at the banquet?"

"Your Grace," Virodai turned, a tranquil, detached smile on her lips as she traced the sign of the God of Holy Light over her breast, "may the God of Holy Light bless you. It was a splendid dinner, but I prefer quieter surroundings."

"The God of Holy Light, is it…" Gao Yang muttered under his breath, then looked into Virodai's eyes. "Would He bless those who do not believe in Him?"

To Gao Yang, this "Saint Princess" standing before him was an elusive figure. She was a royal child of extraordinary talent, a devout believer in the Holy Light, the youngest living saint of the Radiant Church, and in the hearts of countless worshippers the most perfect saint princess of all. So many halos encircled this woman, scarcely older than Rebecca; and yet beneath all that dazzling splendor, what Gao Yang could see was only a void.

He could not see through Virodai's true intentions and designs. Though everything she said and did conformed flawlessly to the "character" of the Saint Princess, all of it seemed like meticulously cut gemstones—flawless, yet bloodless and fleshless. In close conversation he had never once heard from this princess any genuine stir of emotion, any personal preference or dislike; all he ever sensed was an unchanging "holiness and warmth"—and it was precisely that unchanging holiness and warmth that made Gao Yang feel there was nothing in this princess's soul but an expanse of ice.

Could it be that Virodai's faith was so devout that she had already been transmuted into something like a holy spirit?

Gao Yang did not think so, and therefore resolved to probe her attitude more directly when they spoke. To his disappointment, however, Virodai's expression remained serene and detached, and her tone hardly shifted: "The God of Holy Light regards all living things equally. Believer or unbeliever, He is there, weighing all things by His righteousness."

"Including the poor who cannot afford penance money?" Gao Ji asked blandly.

"The God of Holy Light has no need of earthly money, but the Church does. Yet a good starting point does not always yield good results. Priests whose faith is not yet firm enough will be corrupted by money, and it is a fact that in some regions penance money has become a means of extortion. We are indeed aware of this, and have already begun to address it."

A perfect answer—poised between defense and non-defense, capped with a promise both righteous and open-ended. Clearly the Saint Princess, devout in her worship of the Holy Light, was equally skilled in the aristocratic art of talking in circles.

Gao Yang did not press the subject further, but asked directly: "What is your view on what happened in Frostgate City?"

Even faced with so blunt a question, Virodai's calm hardly wavered: "His Holiness the Pope pays close attention to the situation in the Southern Marches. For some time past we lost all word from the Southern March diocese, and the reports that followed were deeply troubling. Your Grace, we have no intention of interfering in your rule, but we must answer for the hundreds of thousands of believers in the south."

"The hundreds of thousands of believers in the south are faring well, and they still worship the Holy Light. Most of the Radiant churches in this land are still running as usual—sermons and rites proceed on schedule," Gao Dai said. "The only difference is that the people have remade the rules by their own choice."

Virodai regarded Gao Song quietly. "And that remaking of rules included smashing the church in Frostgate City and hanging its priests?"

"The priests of Frostgate refused to obey the new rules and refused to die either, which did put us in an awkward position—but I still deeply regret what happened in Frostgate City," Gao Yang spread his hands and spoke with a candor that would have astonished both Amber and Pi Yun. "The priests in the cathedral used many bloody and brutal means to uphold their authority and amass wealth. I believe they were exactly the sort of priests you just mentioned, whose faith 'was not yet firm enough.' I ought to have corrected their errors early, to keep them from straying further down the road of forsaking the gods. Unfortunately, the people's anger reached its peak first."

Gao Cen sighed and went on: "When the disorder broke out in Darkwall City, my troops kept strictly to the order 'do not attack the church' and were stationed far outside the walls—because the priests of the Frostbalance Church had forbidden us to come near from the very start. Later the situation spun out of control; my knights and soldiers did all they could to rescue people, but with the road long and the walls high, in the end not a single soul could be saved."

To be honest, for one very brief instant, Gao Yang was certain he had finally caught a flicker of astonishment in the depths of Virodai's eyes.

Yet it faded almost at once, and the Saint Princess's tone remained unhurried: "Your account… has a rather novel angle."

"It is the truth, and evidence is everywhere. More importantly, the people of Cecil prefer the present state of affairs," Gao Yang said—he had not expected Virodai to remain so composed under these circumstances, but that did not stop him from continuing. "As I see it, it hardly matters who dictates the order of Frostgate City. The people's survival and interests must always come before so-called 'legitimacy.' I hold no prejudice or hostility toward the Church—any church. I am glad to let any church exist on my land, but they must abide by the rules here."

Gao Yang was willing to talk with Victoria slowly, to negotiate slowly, because in his view the Royal Army was the great customer that would ensure Cecil's rapid development in the years ahead, and great customers must be carefully cultivated. But with Virodai he threw out his stance outright—for he simply had no patience for the Radiant Church, that vast body so difficult to wring any profit from.

"The people's survival before 'legitimacy'…" Virodai repeated Gao Song's words, then raised an eyebrow. "And where did this 'rule' come from?"

"Seven hundred years ago, Charles and I laid it down."

"Then it seems this is your stance," Virodai said placidly after a moment's silence. "Impressive, and in this age rather… bold. I shall offer no opinion on it, but I imagine the Radiant Church will not be much pleased once it learns of your attitude."

"That depends on how you view the situation in the Southern Marches and in Ans as a whole," Gao Dai said. "But I have a suggestion—if you cannot change the present state of things, you might as well learn to be a little optimistic. After all, the Radiant Church still has a presence in the south. I have never driven out a single priest or pastor; they still move and preach through this land to this day. At the least—no one has declared them heretics."

Virodai looked at Gao Yang. "…You want the Radiant Church to tacitly accept the independence of the southern church."

"You are free to declare your non-recognition verbally. I do not mind."