Pantheon Temple (2)

Pope Cotinus, who had been furiously angry, ultimately forced the priests to hold mass and watched until its end.

Fortunately, as that brave believer said, since I had arrived, he didn’t spend too much time on it. Compared to how he had been shouting at the top of his lungs earlier, this was a relatively mild conclusion.

Even those who were scolded didn’t receive any particular punishment, so there’s no doubt that Cotinus maintains appropriate boundaries.

Honestly, in my personal assessment, Cotinus himself isn’t too bad as a person. For someone with status equivalent to a king, he’s quite generous.

In other countries, speaking back would have led to immediate execution.

Perhaps it was because he’s normally such a benevolent person despite his angry outbursts that the man dared to talk back at all.

If he hadn’t been normally gentle, such defiance wouldn’t have been possible in the first place.

“Come now, please eat. Though we haven’t prepared much, I believe it should be enough to satisfy your hunger.”

“…Thank you for the meal.”

Of course, what was prepared wasn’t little. But it wasn’t excessive either.

While there were many dishes, there weren’t many expensive foods laid out. A table focused on quantity over quality.

It would be more appropriate to describe it as home cooking rather than party food.

The maximum hospitality he could show within comfortable bounds.

By clergy standards, there couldn’t be more appropriate hospitality than this.

“Now that the apostle has returned safely, our prayers must have surely reached heaven. All the believers are rejoicing.”

“…So I see.”

The high-ranking priests of the Pantheon Temple were moved to tears at the fact that their two-week forced march was ending.

It made me feel guilty just watching.

This is why Cotinus makes me uncomfortable. Though he’s a good person, he makes things endlessly burdensome when dealing with apostles.

“By the way, would it be alright if I introduced myself to your companions, apostle?”

“It doesn’t seem like something that needs my permission, Your Holiness.”

“Please lower your speech with me, apostle.”

“I make it a point to show respect to elders regardless of status.”

“Oh…! I am deeply moved by the apostle’s noble intentions!”

The praise is excessive.

When you praise something this minor so excessively, it starts to sound sarcastic instead.

“It is an honor to meet you, distinguished guests. I am Cotinus, the representative servant of the Pantheon Temple.”

“Thank you for your hospitality, Your Holiness.”

Linea was the one who responded to Cotinus’s greeting on behalf of everyone.

Naturally, she was the only one who could maintain proper etiquette.

Titan was focused on devouring the food before him as if nothing else mattered, while Claire had turned pale from the holy power faintly emanating from Cotinus.

Cotinus showed no displeasure about any of this.

He just smiled joyfully while looking at each member as Linea introduced them.

It was such a happy smile that anyone would think they were his grandchildren.

“I see. Everyone seems to have their own unique characteristics. You must have had an enjoyable journey together.”

“…Perhaps not?”

Linea stiffened for a moment before quietly objecting.

She must have recalled our journey so far.

“If I may ask, Linea, which god do you believe in? As the representative servant of the Pantheon Temple, I would like to bestow a small blessing.”

“Ah, I believe in Lord Asclepius. Though not to the extent of dedicating myself…”

“Oh my, now that you mention it, Linea is from House Spirin, correct? I have always been grateful to those who watch over all people. May this small blessing aid your future path.”

Cotinus happily bestowed a blessing upon Linea.

A subtle yet powerful light circled around Linea before seeping in, praying for her well-being.

“Th-thank you. Please raise your head, Your Holiness.”

Linea’s eyes widened at the visible effect as she quickly bowed her head. She had forgotten he was the Pope until receiving the baptism.

It wasn’t Linea’s fault. Cotinus simply exuded such a gentle atmosphere.

Moreover, Cotinus had prayed for Linea’s well-being with all his heart.

This wasn’t a temporary blessing that enhanced physical abilities.

This was a form of baptism where one sacrifices their own flesh to pray for another’s well-being.

Cotinus had just naturally shortened his own lifespan.

While I was left speechless at that gentle yet profound madness…

“Then, Titan. Might this humble servant ask which god you believe in?”

Cotinus naturally shifted his target to Titan.

“I believe in Diana, the goddess of hunting, and Ceres, the goddess of nature.”

“…”

The answer came so naturally that I was the one surprised instead.

I hadn’t imagined he would believe in any gods. No, given his hunting lifestyle, it’s natural he would have superstitions or faith related to hunting – was my inability to consider this due to prejudice from his rough appearance?

I suddenly realized I hadn’t been interested in anything about him besides his combat ability.

I should reflect on this…

“What wonderful followers you have. Primal faith symbolizing what humans needed to survive. What splendid beliefs these are.”

Cotinus nodded as if moved while looking at Titan, who wouldn’t even turn his head as he devoured his food.

Then he cast a blessing just as he had for Linea.

For an elderly man with not much life left to so freely spend his lifespan…

He probably doesn’t normally do this. He’s committing such madness because they were introduced as my companions.

“And…”

“Ah, I…”

Cotinus’s gaze turned to Claire. Claire trailed off awkwardly as if recalling the earlier scene.

Well, understandable. The sight of Cotinus grabbing and shaking a believer’s collar must have made him look quite deranged.

Claire, at a loss for words, glared at Titan as if betrayed.

It seems she also hadn’t thought Titan would be a believer.

She had probably wanted to check what would happen through Titan first, but Titan unexpectedly showed enough devotion to believe in two gods.

Though he’s probably not truly devout… at least enough to say he believes.

But what about her?

“Claire, it’s alright, go ahead and say it.”

“Ah, yes…”

“So you don’t believe in any gods.”

“…”

When I told Claire it was fine as she looked at me troubled, Cotinus seemed to understand the situation just from that and stated the answer. As Claire began to tense up, I decided to sample the food on the table.

There won’t be any problems.

Among the clergy I know, Cotinus at least has the clearest principles.

“You must have experienced something painful. Something that made you feel so betrayed by the world that you cannot believe in gods.”

“…”

“I understand.”

Cotinus doesn’t hate non-believers. He’s someone who can even understand their hearts.

He’s not Pope for nothing, is he? Having the support of countless believers means he’s a saint in a different sense from me.

His fanatical side only shows toward priests who use holy power like himself.

“…You’re not angry?”

When Claire quietly asked as if unable to believe it, Cotinus answered with a rather bitter smile.

“When you were in the most pain, when you needed help the most. No one helped you, did they? How could I be angry about that?”

“Someone told me. That it was my fault for not grasping the opportunity.”

Surprised by Cotinus’s response, Claire naturally opened up about her concerns.

This is the first I’m hearing of this. Probably because she didn’t trust me enough.

It’s obvious who told her.

Hecate is the only one she’s recently interacted with regarding faith.

“Opportunity… That’s also true. But failing to grasp an opportunity cannot be a sin. After all, there’s no guarantee you wouldn’t have regrets even if you had grasped it.”

“…”

“And aren’t there many who believe in gods but cannot use holy power?”

Not all believers can use holy power. Even with the same effort and faith, most remain as just believers.

“This is what I think. It’s love. Even if I love the gods, there’s no guarantee anywhere that the gods will love me back.”

“…”

“There must be many gods who love Claire. But you don’t necessarily need to return that love.”

It was quite a surprising statement to hear from the Pope’s mouth.

“When parents whisper love to an abused child, will warmth find a place in that child’s heart?”

Claire cannot believe in gods who didn’t answer when she needed them most.

“Conversely, if a child who only received abuse loves their parents, will the parents respond to that love?”

There are those who believe in gods despite being betrayed and despairing at every moment.

But even they have no guarantee of gaining holy power.

“Love is a capricious emotion. No one can force it. Therefore, Claire, there is no law saying you must respond to that love directed at you.”

Though he explained at length, what Cotinus was saying was simple.

Do as your heart desires.

Whether it’s about qualifications or talent, do what you want to do.

“…For someone who says that, weren’t you angry at the priests earlier?”

Perhaps due to the intense memory from before? Claire carefully asked.

Understandable. After all, she had just witnessed such inconsistency firsthand.

But that’s slightly wrong.

“A child received their parents’ love and loved them back. The parents even gave that child pocket money.”

A being loved by the gods who responded to that love with faith.

Moreover, they can use holy power.

“Yet for a child who complains about such love… Don’t they need at least a stern lesson?”

“Ah…”

The line he drew. Love can be one-sided. He doesn’t blame that.

But he cannot forgive complaints about mutual feelings.

Cotinus’s philosophy about emotions.

Because he holds the position of Pope, because he’s the most powerful among priests.

Because he believes in, follows, and loves the gods more than anyone.

His words carry special weight.

“Well then, I should go prepare a place for Claire to stay. Would your companions like to stay nearby as well?”

“Ah, yes… Thank you.”

Linea bowed deeply to Cotinus who left with a gentle smile to prepare our accommodations.

There were probably other places available.

Yet after seeing Claire’s situation, he’s reorganizing the rooms.

He could have made a show of it, but Cotinus didn’t particularly draw attention to it.

*     *     *

Claire seemed to need time to think.

Linea looked drained just from conversing with Cotinus in his position as Pope.

Titan maintained his usual pace and headed out for dawn training.

“Apostle, you can stay here.”

“…This is a nice room.”

And I was assigned a different room from my companions.

If I said I wanted to share a room with my companions here, he would allow it, but I didn’t. While Cotinus might be fine with it, I could be burdensome to others.

And…

“Apostle, may I ask what intentions you hold, what form your faith takes, and the name that symbolizes those intentions?”

From now on, there are matters that concern only me as an apostle of the gods.

This much consideration is quite generous.

Originally, it wouldn’t have been strange to ask these questions at the Pantheon Temple’s entrance.

Asking only now means he was being considerate of me and my companions.

There’s still time before sleep, so the timing is appropriate.

“I am the Vicarious Saint Cielo, who has chosen to carry on the will of the gods and those I believed in.”

And my name as an apostle is Cielo, symbolizing the sky.

“I see… Then, Vicarious Saint Cielo. There is something I would like to say.”

Based on what I already knew and what he said to my companions today, I was able to form a general impression of Cotinus.

It wasn’t very different from my previous impression. I just felt he was more human than I expected.

“Yes, Your Holiness. Please speak.”

However.

“Have you ever thought that perhaps the Empire is too large?”

It seems my thoughts were wrong.

“Through the existence of a single great power called the Empire, humans are losing competition and declining. That’s what I mean.”

“Surely you don’t mean…”

“Yes, I believe the Empire must be divided.”

The gentle and soft expression I saw at the dinner table was nowhere to be found.

“Even if it requires some sacrifice.”

Now behind that mask, only cold conviction filled his eyes.