Chapter 566: Manpower

"Cooperation?"

Canterbury set down the book in his hand with slight surprise. His snow-white brows lifted, and he looked at Muen with a meaningful gaze.

"You mean you want to drag the Church in as well, to wade into the Empire’s recent muddy waters?"

"Calling it muddy waters is a bit inappropriate."

Muen smiled faintly.

"Since it’s cooperation, then naturally it has to be mutually beneficial. And besides, Grand Archbishop, haven’t you already personally stepped onto the field? Don’t tell me that a few days ago King Yintuo didn’t enter because he forgot to turn off the oil lamp at home. Speaking of which, I even have to thank you for that."

"You brat, stop feeding me that nonsense. Don’t think I don’t know who wrote me that kind of little note back then and made me run around for nothing. And these two matters don’t carry the same meaning."

Canterbury’s voice turned serious.

"I went to stop King Yintuo because I knew him from before, and also for Berland’s stability. If someone wants to cause trouble in Berland, then as the grand archbishop of this region, no matter who it is, I will go stop them. That is my duty."

"But if I help you..."

Canterbury extended a withered finger and tapped the tabletop.

"Then the nature of this matter becomes the Church privately intervening in the Empire’s internal affairs. Other countries might be manageable, but in an Empire that is extremely resistant to Church involvement in internal politics, it will certainly draw opposition from the Empire’s upper echelons, and may even become a weapon in the hands of those with ulterior motives. You just took such a huge fall not long ago, and now you still want to hand a knife to the enemy?"

"...Even the Grand Archbishop knows about my previous failure..."

Muen’s cheek twitched.

"I’m not blind. Anyone can see the predicament House Campbell is in—watched from all sides. I’m guessing if you still had cards left in your hand, you wouldn’t have come looking for me."

Canterbury chuckled.

"Of course, for Saintess’s sake, the Church can provide you political asylum at any time. As long as your identity as an Honorary Holy Hall Knight still exists, then even if you lose miserably in this struggle, the Church will absolutely guarantee your life."

"...I appreciate the Grand Archbishop’s goodwill."

Muen shook his head.

"But if I really chose to shrink back, there are countless ways to escape. I could even go back right now and crawl into my teacher’s little nest, and then no one in this world would be able to harm me."

"But... I also have reasons I can’t stop and retreat. If those people are really allowed to do whatever they want, who knows what the Empire will become in the future. They still have some debts they haven’t paid back. What’s more, I now have one more reason than before to do this."

Muen’s fingertips brushed lightly over his lips. That cool, soft sensation was still there. He smiled.

"A very important one."

"Is that so?"

Canterbury examined Muen more carefully. A trace of appreciation flashed through his weathered eyes.

"Worthy of being the knight Saintess values. Having no road to retreat and having a road yet still not retreat—those are two different concepts. But no matter how many reasons you have, that still isn’t a reason for the Church to stick a hand into this kind of matter. So those words can’t move me."

"I never intended to move the Grand Archbishop. I also understand the Church can’t casually take part in this. Besides..."

The corner of Muen’s mouth lifted.

"I never said I wanted the Church to participate."

"Oh? What do you mean?"

"There are many kinds of cooperation. Some are placed openly in the light, and some are done in the dark."

Muen spread his hands.

"Even if the Church can’t openly support me, if I hire a group of manpower from the Church here in a private capacity, to help me in secret, that shouldn’t be a problem. As long as it’s done discreetly, who would know that manpower belongs to [N O V E L I G H T] the Church?"

"Manpower?"

Canterbury frowned in confusion.

"The Church is a place that serves the Goddess and guides believers. Where would we have the manpower you’re talking about?"

"For you to say that, Grand Archbishop—I don’t believe the Church doesn’t keep some private forces hidden in Berland that no one knows about."

Muen still wore his smile.

"That line about the Church being some harmonious, peaceful, friendly prayer ground might fool idiots, but it won’t fool me. After all... even if I’m only an honorary knight, in a certain sense, I’m also considered part of the Church, aren’t I?"

"Hmph. So what."

Seeing he couldn’t hide it, Canterbury simply laid it out. He sneered.

"You call yourself part of the Church—then why don’t you just leave the Empire and join the Church outright? With your aptitude, you’re basically guaranteed a bishop’s seat in the future. Isn’t that better than being some damn duke’s son?"

"...Some things can’t be changed just because you want to."

Muen let out a soft sigh, then spoke sincerely.

"But I believe the deep friendship between me and the Church will certainly not change with time. It will certainly become even more—"

"Heh, enough. Don’t talk to me about friendship or any other crap. If it weren’t for the fact you have at least a tiny bit of connection to Saintess, I would’ve kicked you out long ago."

Canterbury showed not the slightest grand-archbishoply grace. He slapped the book in his hand onto the table, his expression severe.

"I’ll put my words here: as long as your elbow still bends toward the Empire’s side, don’t even think about discussing cooperation with me! This grand archbishop manages so many people every day—I’m not that easy to persuade!"

"..."

In the silent room, only the incense still curled upward.

Muen looked at the Grand Archbishop of Canterbury, who had left absolutely no room for negotiation, and the corner of his eye twitched a few times.

Even though this grand archbishop looked utterly unyielding, and he was being so serious, if you tasted his words carefully... why did it feel like there was a bit of deeper meaning hidden inside?

As for what kind of deeper meaning...

"I have an account in the Holy City."

Muen suddenly said.

"An account? You have an account—what does that have to do with me?"

Canterbury still sneered, his face full of disdain.

"This account was opened under Liya’s... no, under Saintess’s name. Therefore, aside from His Holiness the Pope, no one has the ability—or rather, the qualification—to investigate where the funds in this account go. Of course, I doubt His Holiness would be that bored."

"...Of course. His Holiness handles countless affairs daily. Naturally he wouldn’t care about such a small matter."

Canterbury said impatiently.

"So what exactly are you getting at?"

"I plan to allocate part of that money to support cathedral construction work. Of course, it will be under your name, Grand Archbishop."

Muen interlaced his fingers, resting them against his chin. Then he calmly looked at Canterbury and spoke slowly.

"After the Empire’s matter is over, a brand-new cathedral will rise from the ground in Berland—a cathedral named after Canterbury."

"..."

Canterbury froze for a moment, then quickly sat a bit straighter. He also interlaced his hands under his chin, his expression solemn.

"A cathedral?"

"Yes. I heard Berland Cathedral has already had three hundred years of history. Doesn’t it look a bit old and crowded now? If so, it can’t serve the Goddess very well, can it?"

"That’s reasonable."

"And I’m not very familiar with cathedral construction, so the hard work of supervising the build can only fall on... your shoulders, Grand Archbishop."

"My shoulders?"

"That’s right. I’ll only be responsible for paying. How it’s built—up to you."

Muen pressed a hand to his chest with rare pain, still smiling.

"Of course, you also know that House Campbell is currently at the center of the storm. If we’re isolated and don’t receive help from kindhearted people, and our status plummets from then on, then that money... naturally I won’t be able to produce it."

"Is that so?"

Canterbury closed his eyes. He looked extremely conflicted as he muttered to himself.

"To fall into conflict in secret is truly not what we wish. But... if it is to serve the Goddess better, then this small sacrifice seems unavoidable. Sigh. Our hearts are as bright as radiant light, yet darkness follows like a shadow. Sin, sin. I hope the Goddess can forgive us."

...This old thing’s skin feels thicker than Pink Bear’s.

Muen cursed inwardly, but his expression did not change as he replied, "Yes. Everything is for better serving the Goddess. Sacrificing a little—Goddess won’t blame it."

"Then... there’s no helping it."

Canterbury raised his head and let out a long sigh to the heavens, then slammed the table and called out in a deep voice, "Sister Therese. Father Cooper."

"Here."

From the darkness, two figures stepped out, as if they had been waiting there all along.

"You two will take people and go with Sir Honorary Holy Hall Knight on this trip."

Canterbury stroked his beard as he warned them, "Remember—within today, you have nothing to do with the Church. Do not expose your identities."

"Understood."

The voice from the darkness was steady, giving an incomparable sense of reassurance.

......

......

"Has the furnace been lit?"

"It’s already lit, my lord."

"Good. Let’s go."

At House Dion, Butler Arno led the several carriages that Viel had brought earlier. He circled past the private garden that looked like a small park and arrived at a concealed spot.

At the center of the open ground stood an enormous metal furnace—two stories tall—constantly belching thick black smoke.

Blazing flames burned within the furnace. A large amount of incineration residue piled at the bottom. Faintly, one could see scarlet molten metal, ash drifting with the flames, and some precious objects that still remained even after being burned.

Over the years, countless things that could endanger House Dion—whether evidence, stolen goods, secret documents, or... people—had been thrown into this roaring fire, becoming part of the foundation of this illustrious family.

And now, that foundation would gain some new additions.

"Are we really just throwing these in like this?"

Someone looked toward the carriages with some reluctance.

"These were sent by the princess. There have to be quite a few good things inside."

"Stop spouting nonsense. This is the marquis’s order. Hurry up and do it!"

The butler barked.

"But... taking a look is fine, right? We’re burning it anyway. The marquis won’t know."

That subordinate muttered.

"This..."

Hearing it, the butler’s gaze flickered.

Yeah. We’re burning it anyway. I’ll just take one look... it shouldn’t be a problem, right?