Book 8, Chapter 95

Ultimatum

While Richard busied himself with the tree of life, the Sacred Tree Empire’s council had stirred up a storm. Almost everyone qualified to vote had attended, meeting in the Hall of Sacred Radiance as always with such important topics. This hall wasn’t particularly large, but its fifteen metres of height made any occupants feel oppressed.

On the ceiling was the famed Radiance Over The World, a mural depicting the story of when the Radiant Lord first lit his godfire. The hall itself had fifteen pillars. The one in the centre was the founding emperor of the Sacred Tree Empire, while the seven on his left were the prototypical seven angels of the Celestial Plane. On the right were carvings of the original seven lords of the Empire.

Just one look at this hall could show just how convoluted the relationship between the nobility and church were in the Sacred Tree Empire. It was only kept together by the fact that the royal family had celestial blood flowing through them, giving their descendants a majority of the Heaven’s Armour sets. Angels like Uriel, Gabriel, and Raphael had ended up becoming runes passed down from generation to generation.

The council meeting was supposed to be a secular matter, but in reality even the Prime Minister and the four Grand Dukes could only sit on the right of the Emperor; the left was reserved for members of the Church of Glory. The clergy could only vote on religious matters, but they could also offer their opinion on any topic they wanted to. Today, that left side was empty, with only the pope and Saint Martin occupying two of the seven seats. Others, like Archbishop Ruford and Saint Thomas, were entirely absent.

Emperor Louis XIII looked to be about 50 years of age. Although not as large as Philip, he was quite plump; the idea of appetite determining power had already started spreading amongst the nobility of Norland. He wasn’t a bad ruler at all, but his achievements weren’t particularly amazing either. With the Church of Glory hanging over them, it was difficult for any emperor to impress.

Sat at the head of the table, the Emperor looked around at the people seated around him. He smiled mysteriously at the conspicuous absences on his left, gently tapping the table to begin the meeting. One duke immediately stood up, “We must punish Richard firmly! Killing a Marquess of the Empire cannot be forgiven; would this not show weakness and endanger the entire nobility?”

“We should consider declaring war,” another duke agreed.

Both other meetings in recent times had started like this as well. Two rounds of intense discussion and everyone agreed to punish Richard, but they just couldn’t agree on how. The two dukes from the south wanted to declare war and were backed up by the minister of war, but the dukes from the north and the minister of internal affairs disagreed. The latter were of the opinion that the Empire and Church should send troops out together; they could even use paladins as the main force.

The difference in opinions between both sides were obvious. The Minister of War came a great distance away from Richard in the south. If the Empire were to send troops, their main force would be private soldiers of the northern lords. The problem was that these northern lords had already been at war with the Archerons for many years. Alice had managed to seize a full earldom’s worth of territory from them years ago, and ever since Richard came to power she had left them all feeling miserable. Even Duke Solam himself was unable to do anything.

And then came the war for Archeron independence, followed by that for divine gold. Richard had dealt an enormous blow to the northern troops, killing over 400,000 soldiers in a short span of time. These nobles were quite scared of Richard; Alice could at least be beaten back for a while, but Richard just rolled over anything that he came across. Once the war effort wiped out the north’s military power, the south would almost certainly start internal wars.

Although the plan to ask the Church for troops had been brought up in the meeting, the pope just looked sleepy and said this would be an issue decided when the cardinals left. Everyone present knew that the cardinals had all died in the war over divine gold; just how long would they have to wait to get a decision?

The ministers and dukes looked at Martin and the pope with confusion. With hundreds of thousands of soldiers present during the battle, everyone knew that there was an enormous rift within the Church of Glory. The pope and holy child had battled ferociously that day, but now they acted like nothing had happened and sat together in the council meeting.

In the end, all planning ground to a halt when the issue of soldiers came up. Seeing this meeting wouldn’t be resolved either, one duke from the north grunted heavily and levelled a vicious glare at Martin, “Your Excellency, I heard that you actually fought on Richard’s side during that battle. Now that we are discussing punishment, the Church is shirking its responsibility. Could it be because of you?”

“It’s finally come to me…” Martin stretched lazily, sitting up straight and staring at the grand duke. He smiled, but the coldness of his gaze sent a shiver down the man’s spine, before he moved on to the other lords and ministers and finally Louis himself, “Your Majesty, I admit there was a dispute within the Church a while ago. However, this was a dispute caused by a difference of opinion; we had differing views on how to best serve the Radiance, and it was significant enough to be settled by war.”

The lords all stared at Martin as he gave his explanation. The difference truly was significant enough, enough to kill four angels, an archangel, and all of the cardinals. It would be difficult to make it any more significant.

“Are any of the lords here interested in participating?” Martin suddenly asked with a chuckle, freezing the dukes and ministers present. No one here dared to get significantly involved in matters of the Church, knowing just how messy things were. This wasn’t just a battle between the pope and holy child, but a front for a battle between different factions in the Celestial Plane. Nothing good would come out of dipping their toes in.

“Heh, it truly was an internal dispute at the time, and Richard was willing to stand by my side. However, the murder of Marquess Brahms happened afterward, and I had nothing to do with that matter.” These words prompted sighs of relief; everyone knew that the holy child had won the battle massively, now capable of just waiting to force the pope to abdicate. If the Church of Glory was on Richard’s side, then punishing him was impossible. However, Martin wasn’t done, “That being said, I must remind you all that the Archerons have barely been affected while the lords of the north have suffered great losses. Would it be wise to declare war on him right now?”

This was the exact reason why the two grand dukes from the north objected to the plan; they needed time for their forces to recuperate. The Minister of War coughed softly, speaking up himself, “What you say is true, Your Excellency. The Archerons did indeed suffer smaller losses than expected, and we need time. I suggest the North rebuilds, with the southern lords providing half the equipment they required and one army from two planes for the next year.”

“An excellent suggestion!” the two grand dukes from the north agreed immediately, feeling a load off their shoulders. Those from the south thought about it for a moment before agreeing as well. Their counterparts certainly wouldn’t agree to them just sitting back, knowing just what the result of such a push would be.

The Prime Minister nodded, “We have 22 dukes and over 60 planes; the Archerons cannot compete with a combined army. I agree with this plan; even if we give him time to rest, time will still be on our side.”

Martin clapped and smiled brightly, “Such an ingenious suggestion! I agree.”

It was thus decided that the Sacred Tree Empire would spend half a year training new troops. Once they had rebuilt, they would formally go after Richard for killing Marquess Brahms. The council meeting thus ended with a tenuous solution.

…

Martin was the last one to sit up from his chair, only leaving the Hall of Sacred Radiance once the lords and the pope were gone. Looking at their departing backs, his bright smile turned conniving.

Whose side was time on, really? He shrugged and walked away; a few sentences had freed his three angels.