Chapter 127: Cardinal of Sacred Rites

Chapter 127: Cardinal of Sacred Rites

Aether froze in place. Antonella looked down at him, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"Satisfied, Inquisitor Aurolan?"

This can't be. Aether's heart pounded violently. How had she managed to deceive the Mouth of Truth? Sure, ambiguous wording could slip past it, but Antonella had spoken so clearly, so confidently—he couldn't spot a single flaw...

"You... do you dare say again that you bear no ill will toward me and Nashel?"

"Very well." Antonella answered without missing a beat. "I bear no ill will toward Inquisitor Aether Orolan and Inquisitor Nashir Solaris, and I have never wished to harm them, in any way, shape, or form."

Aether wanted her to say more, but Antonella kept going a mile a minute: "In fact, I quite admire them. To become Senior Inquisitors at such a young age—they've got unlimited potential. I am deeply grieved by Inquisitor Solaris's death. Losing someone so talented is a huge blow to the Church. This is all on me—I made bad calls with incomplete intel. If the Tribunal and Your Holiness want to hold me accountable, I'll take whatever punishment comes."

She cut a sideways glance at Aether: "Iannis is still outside. Shall I call him in?"

"That won't be necessary," said Chief Inquisitor Elhart, looking tired as he took the Lion Statue from the attendant.

Antonella spread her hands, then bowed deeply toward the altar: "I ask Your Holiness to see the truth."

A murmur filled the Sun Court. Aether's face went pale, his fists clenched and shaking with rage. Under Antonella's smug gaze, a pitch-black flame roared to life in his chest.

The flame scorched his mind, gnawed at his heart, and ripped his chest apart with pain. He'd failed Nashel—failed to avenge him, failed to make Antonella own up to her crimes. A terrifying, inevitable thought jumped into his head—

—Why not just kill her right here...

"Silence!"

The Holy See's majestic voice rang out from the altar, from within the light.

The whispers died instantly—so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

After several breaths, the Holy See's voice sounded again: "Grand Master, I see your resolve. I believe you're innocent."

Antonella bowed her head deeply: "Your judgment is always wise, my Radiance."

"Senior Inquisitor Aether Orolan," the Holy See called.

Aether tensed up, his heart sinking like a stone. His accusation had failed—maybe the Holy See would convict him for making false charges. He'd be stripped of his rank and thrown into a black hole of a prison.

How ironic. He'd once been an inquisitor who sent countless heretics to prison, and now the same fate was waiting for him. If the inmates at Cape Prison heard about this, they'd laugh their asses off.

"Accusing the Grand Master of crimes with no proof—that's not like you."

Aether stared hard at the carpet patterns: "I won't withdraw my accusation. I'll take whatever punishment that brings."

Antonella's grin stretched ear to ear.

"Oh? Did I say I would punish you?"

Aether's head snapped up. Antonella's grin faded.

The Holy See continued: "No doubt you were fooled by infidels. The Grand Master is right—heretics must have disguised themselves as the Knights, trying to sow discord inside our Church. Falling for their trick would only hurt our friends and help our enemies."

Antonella's brow furrowed deeply: "But, great Radiance, your loyal servant has been slandered for no reason. Are we just going to let this slide?"

"Grand Master, you didn't see through the heretics' schemes and sent two of the Church's finest into danger. You did screw up in your command. I should hand down a minor punishment, but given how chaotic the battlefield was, it wouldn't be fair to put all the blame on you. You should do some serious soul-searching too."

Antonella bit her lip. The Holy See's point was obvious—if she pushed Aether's "false accusation," he'd come after her for the military screw-up.

In this war, the Knights had grabbed all the glory while the Tribunal took heavy losses. The Holy See gave her a slap on the wrist while soothing the Tribunal—classic balancing act.

What a spineless peacemaker!

"I understand, Your Holiness," Antonella said, all respectful on the surface but seething with contempt inside. "I'll forgive Inquisitor Aurolan's rudeness. The God of Dawn teaches us to forgive, doesn't He?"

"Glad to see you still remember God's teachings."

Aether felt eyes on him from within the light.

"Inquisitor Aurolan, everyone knows what you've accomplished. Your courage on the battlefield this time really impressed me too. Even though infidels fooled you, you were just trying to get justice for your brother-in-arms. I think you deserve a reward."

Aether thought he must've heard wrong: "...Your Holiness?"

"Since Cardinal Alessandro's passing, a vacancy has existed in the College of Cardinals, and I have long pondered whom to entrust with this heavy responsibility. You are young and capable—precisely the talent the Church seeks. I hereby proclaim your elevation to Cardinal of Sacred Rites, to oversee Church ceremonies. I hope you will not disappoint my expectations and will continue to labor diligently for the glory of the God of Dawn."

Suddenly, a great uproar of debate erupted in the Sun Court. Everyone chattered and argued in shrill voices, the temple descending into chaos like the noisiest market square.

"He's too young?! There are older, more experienced candidates..."

"Not prosecuting him for false accusation is already an act of grace—how can he be rewarded? This is unfair!"

"With Inquisitor Aurolan's merits, he should have received higher rank long ago!"

"Can any of you name someone more worthy?"

Aether was at a loss. The Cardinal of Sacred Rites, who oversaw Church ceremonies, was in truth a sinecure—responsible for presiding over major religious rituals, sacraments, and canon law. But regardless, he would be a member of the College of Cardinals, a close minister of the Holy See. This meant the Tribunal's voice in the Church's central authority had gained another measure of weight.

But why bestow such an honor upon him?

He looked toward Chief Inquisitor Elhart, seeking his counsel with his eyes. The Chief gave a slight nod, signaling him to accept.

"I... am deeply honored, noble Radiance," Aether said hoarsely. "I shall not betray your trust. I will devote everything to the glory of the God of Dawn and the great cause of the Church, until the day I am called to my Lord."

An attendant approached Aether, bearing a neatly folded white robe. Unlike the plain, austere white robes of inquisitors, this was an exceedingly luxurious garment—gold thread embroidered exquisite patterns along the collar and cuffs, while silver thread stitched the Sun Emblem across the back, refracting dazzling brilliance in the light.

The Holy See had even prepared the Cardinal's vestments in advance—today's elevation had clearly been a foregone conclusion.

Chief Inquisitor Elhart smiled knowingly: "Change into it, Aurolan. You've earned this."

Aether hesitated. Antonella looked at him, the corner of her mouth twitching: "Do as Elhart says. You're a venerable Cardinal Bishop now—wearing those beggar's rags would be most improper, Car·di·nal·of·Sa·cred·Rites."

Two more attendants stepped forward, helping Aether remove his patched, threadbare old robe, then respectfully draping the magnificent new vestments over him.

This resplendent white robe had been tailored precisely for him—every detail fitting perfectly. After the attendants adjusted his collar and long hair, gasps of admiration rose from the onlookers. Even those most displeased with this personnel change had to admit that Aether Orolan, clad in the Cardinal's sacred vestments, cut an imposing and dignified figure.

An attendant folded his old white robe, bowed to Aether, and withdrew from the hall. Aether opened his mouth, wanting to ask what would become of the old robe. But before the words could escape, the Holy See spoke: "That concludes today's proceedings."

Everyone bowed simultaneously. The radiance upon the altar dimmed, and when they raised their heads again, the throne sat empty—the Holy See had departed without anyone noticing.

The Chief Inquisitor approached and clapped Aether firmly on the shoulder. Beaming with joy, he gestured toward the palace gates, eager to drag Aether off to celebrate.

They surged out of the Sun Court with the crowd. Grand Master Antonella reunited with her subordinates. Above the sea of heads, Aether saw Iannis and Antonella whispering to each other, casting hostile glances his way.

"Wonderful, Lord Aurolan! The Tribunal finally has a Cardinal again!"

Cleran Bellax and a group of young inquisitors swarmed around Aether, surrounding him at the center.

"We must celebrate properly today! I've booked a fine restaurant in the garden district!"

The young inquisitors were beaming with joy, deliberately raising their voices to discuss how they'd celebrate Aether, and shooting smug glances at the knight order.

Aether noticed the attendant who had taken his old robe, told the others to hold on a moment, and quickly walked over.

"Wait!" he called out, stopping the attendant and pointing at the old robe in his arms. "What are you gonna do with this?"

The attendant was puzzled. Why would the new Cardinal give a damn about something so trivial?

But he answered honestly, "We're gonna burn it, my lord. A robe this worn-out ain't fit for someone of your rank. If you need any new clothes down the line, just tell the Ceremonial Hall."

Behind him, Creland called out: "Lord Auroran, come on, let's go!"

Aether's lips moved, but in the end, he didn't say a word. He waved the attendant off and headed back to his crew.

The attendant carried the old white robe down a little-used path through the flower-filled garden, and arrived before a secluded chapel.

A young servant with silver hair and crimson eyes stood there, blank as a painted statue. A broom lay at his feet. His hands were clasped to his chest, like he was holding something.

The attendant frowned and scolded, "You stupid slag! Can't you find something to do unless I tell you? What the hell is that in your hands?"

The silver-haired, crimson-eyed servant opened his hands, and a dead pigeon lay in his palm.

"Little bird. Dead," he said, his voice flat as a board.

"What the hell is that filth!" The attendant stumbled back, furious and freaked out. "Throw that thing in the incinerator! Don't get any of that on the ground, or you'll lick it up with your tongue!"

He tossed the old white robe at the servant too. "Burn this as well! Move it!"

The servant grabbed the robe mechanically and stumbled toward the cathedral's northwest corner. That's where the servants lived, and where the laundry and trash got handled. Even the great and holy Order couldn't avoid making a mess, and somebody had to clean it up.

*

Aether and the young inquisitors celebrated at a fancy restaurant in the garden district, and they all got completely wasted. The Chief begged off, saying he had official business, and skipped the party—but he was nice enough to let them put the tab on the White Tower.

After getting promoted to Cardinal of Sacred Rites, Aether had to move out of his old place. Each Cardinal Bishop had his own quarters in the First Cathedral, where they had to stay on call, ready to answer the Holy See's summons and serve the earthly representative of the God of Dawn.

Those rooms started out as plain stone cells, but as the cathedral grew and grand palaces went up all around, they got fancier and fancier.

Even so, plenty of Cardinals still found them too cramped and bought their own places in the holy city—they always had ways to get their hands on money.

But Aether wasn't about to follow the crowd. The cathedral quarters were already plenty luxurious for him. He was a battle-hardened soldier, used to roughing it; even sleeping out in the open didn't bother him.

Before he officially took up his post, there was one more thing he had to do.

All the prisoners from Cape Prison were being held at the Spring of Rebirth. Aether went there early in the morning. The Warden received the new Cardinal of Sacred Rites with total groveling deference.

"I'm looking for a prisoner," Aether said to the Warden, who was grinning like a sycophant and rubbing his hands together like a fly. "He was transferred here from Cape Prison. Name's Layman Vichard."

The Warden had someone fetch the prisoner roster, thick as a dictionary, and flipped through it till he hit the name "Vichard."

"Your Eminence, that prisoner's not here anymore," he said, sounding apologetic. "The research department of your tribunal took him."

"The research department?" Aether raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, every prisoner sent here from Cape Prison goes through the research department. The Minister picks out the ones with Supernatural Ability..." The Warden's voice trailed off.

"Layman Vichard has a Supernatural Ability?" Aether was stunned. He remembered Layman taking the Mouth of Truth test back at Cape Prison, and he clearly didn't have any ability.

The Warden consulted the roster: "His ability's called 'Native Tongue Mastery'—he can pick up any language like it's his mother tongue."

Aether thought about it. Layman Vichard really was good with languages—whether Elvish or the Ninoville Island dialect, he spoke both fluently.

He'd figured it was because Layman went to university. But was it actually his Supernatural Ability? When did it wake up? During the attack on Cape Prison? He'd heard people were more likely to awaken abilities in the middle of a major crisis...

"So where is he now? I haven't seen him at the White Tower."

The Warden's expression grew even more strained. "Well, he's, uh... been sent to the cathedral as a servant."

"A servant?"

"You know, those who've been used up by the research department are all sent to the cathedral as servants..."

Aether froze. "Layman Vichard... became slag?"

He knew that Minister Lutz of the research department sometimes conducted experiments on prisoners, and the failures were called "slag." It was, of course, utterly inhumane and completely contrary to the teachings of the God of Dawn. But everyone in the tribunal tacitly agreed to pretend not to see it.

Aether left the Spring of Rebirth in a daze.

Before his death, Nashel had instructed him to find Layman Vichard. Though he didn't understand Nashel's meaning, since Nashel possessed the Supernatural Ability of foresight, he must have foreseen that Layman would play an important role. Looking back, from Cape Prison to the holy city, Layman had indeed helped him greatly.

But in the end, he had failed Nashel's trust. Nashel might have foreseen his reunion with Layman Vichard, but he could not have foreseen what Layman would suffer in the research department. He had come too late.

Standing before the prison gates, looking back at the prisoners laboring in the exercise yard, Aether suddenly felt that he was very hypocritical.

He too had brainwashed himself into believing that for the cause of the tribunal and the church, some unavoidable sacrifices were necessary. He claimed to be a humble servant of God, yet he tacitly allowed evil to happen around him.

What kind of warrior of God was he, after all? On which of God's paths was he truly walking?

No. He could not allow this to continue. Just as he could not allow Antonella to remain unpunished.

He did not fear punishment, nor did he care about violating the teachings of the God of Dawn. Was there truly divine will in this world? If the God of Dawn truly watched over humanity, why had He taken Nashel's life and allowed his murderer to roam free?

Since he had already decided to risk everything, he didn't care about adding one more life to his hands. If God would not punish them, then he would!

Even if it meant being beheaded in public, he would carry his enemy's head to the guillotine!

"Minister Lutz..." Aether gazed at the towering White Tower at the center of the holy city, his eyes gradually turning cold. "Very well. Today, I'll kill you first!"