Chapter 72: Appointment

When Adra brought the Holy Warrior Jarvis into the Papal Hall, several bishops who were still in Celeste were also summoned and stood on both sides of the hall. Lancelote stood quietly behind the Pope, like a protective statue.

"Holy warrior Jarvis, at your service, Your Holiness," the warrior knelt and saluted. Adra stepped aside.

The Pope's eyes, beneath his long white brows, already bore the slight cloudiness typical of the elderly. He looked at the kneeling holy warrior and spoke slowly, "Warrior Jarvis, the tactical analysis you submitted earlier is meticulous and insightful, most importantly rooted in facts. Such vision and judgment are truly rare in someone at your age. The current situation is chaotic, so I want to hear your thoughts."

Receiving praise from such a figure, one who stood at the pinnacle of power on the continent and was almost indistinguishable from divinity in the eyes of commoners, would have been a tremendous honor for any young man. However, Jarvis showed no sign of emotional outburst. Instead, he responded with a perfect blend of gratitude and reverence, "Thank you for your praise, Your Holiness."

The Pope continued, "A priest from the allied forces on the highlands has just reported to me. In their first engagement, Orford used a forbidden curse scroll to annihilate Judah's heavy cavalry regiment. The allied forces' morale has plummeted as a result. It's also claimed that Orford might possess another forbidden curse scroll, Meteor Shower. On top of that, Alrasia recently reported that Tatalia's offensive has almost reached their capital. The allied forces are now at a disadvantage. What do you think should be done?"

Jarvis, still kneeling, replied, "Reporting to Your Holiness is a holy warrior's duty. Your wisdom illuminates all, and there are many experts among the Temple Knights who specialize in military strategy. My humble opinion is hardly worth mentioning."

The Pope smiled faintly and said, "Rise. Since I've asked, speak plainly. What is your assessment of the current situation?"

"Yes." The holy warrior stood up, thought for a moment, and then replied, "Although Orford and Tatalia seem to have the upper hand now, their advantage is nothing more than fleeting. It does not fundamentally change the larger picture. Please rest assured, Your Holiness, their downfall is merely a matter of time."

"Oh? How so? The allied forces and Alrasia are being thoroughly routed by them," the Pope asked, though his expression showed no genuine curiosity.

"The current advantage is the result of Orford's brilliant strategy and tactics brought to their utmost potential. But wars are ultimately contests of national power. Orford, being newly established for just over a year, has weak foundations. Whether in population or production capacity, they cannot compare to larger nations like Alrasia. Although they've accumulated some resources through trade in a short time, it's impossible for them to sustain a prolonged war. As for Tatalia, they are merely a coalition of barbarian tribes. Even though their new king, Tazir, may be the most capable in their history, their national strength is even weaker than Orford's. That's why they could deliver a surprise blow to Alrasia, but overall, they are not a serious threat."

The Pope nodded, seemingly approving of this precise and thorough analysis. He continued, "So you believe the allied forces are certain to win in the end? Unfortunately, I've already ordered the allied forces to retreat for now."

"No, Your Holiness, your judgment is wise. The forces remaining on the Highlands are less than half of what they were, and the soldiers' morale has collapsed. Even the commanders are terrified under the threat of forbidden curses, leaving no chance of victory. Furthermore, Alrasia, harassed by the barbarians, likely cannot send troops to the Highlands again in the near future. Any forced offensive now would only lead to more casualties, while remaining in the Highlands would waste supplies to no avail. A temporary retreat to preserve strength and prepare for the next assault is indeed the best strategy."

The surrounding bishops also nodded subtly, acknowledging that this precise analysis clearly laid out the current situation.

"For the next assault? Since you're aware that Alrasia won't be able to send troops soon, and the allied forces are severely weakened, what makes you so certain I would organize another campaign against Orford?" The Pope sighed. "Just this campaign alone cost the lives of ten thousand soldiers. Each of them was a follower of the Lord, wielding their swords for His glory, yet now they lie buried in the desolate Highlands. The Holy Order has lost two knights, and even a Light Mage has fallen. While you say Orford will eventually be defeated, how many more followers will have to be buried in the Highlands? Do you think it's necessary to continue this war?"

Jarvis's tone slowed slightly, carrying a faint heaviness. "Your Holiness, you are merciful. But if we do not seize the opportunity to eliminate Orford now, there may be no chance in ten years. By then, they could have the power to negotiate with Celeste—or even suppress the entire Confederation of Faithful Nations."

"Oh? Will it truly become that severe?" The Pope raised his eyebrows.

"In this short time alone, the orcs have managed to establish a city of such scale in the previously barren Highlands. If their population sees significant growth in another ten years, it's not hard to imagine what the situation would be like. The orcs will not submit to the Lord's glory. They are likely to expand beyond the Highlands, and by then, even Alrasia and other nations may be powerless to stop them. Ultimately, even the Lord's light could be overshadowed by the darkness of those beasts."

"Hmm." The Pope frowned and nodded. "Then how do you think we could most effectively achieve victory over Orford while minimizing our casualties?"

"In fact, Orford's few thousand orcs, located at the heart of the Highlands with such unfavorable conditions, are no match for a large army. Their victory this time represents the limit of their capabilities. With another overwhelming invasion, armed with the lessons learned from this campaign, Orford would undoubtedly fall."

"Hmm." The Pope nodded again at Jarvis's analysis. "But now, Alrasia cannot send troops in the short term, and the Duchy of Judah has suffered complete devastation. How could we possibly gather enough forces for such an invasion?"

Adra, standing nearby, showed a subtle change in expression, a hint of unease appearing in his eyes as he shifted his gaze from the Pope to the holy warrior with some concern.

Jarvis, unaware of Adra's reaction, continued, "Your Holiness, have you forgotten? East of Orford lies the Empire of Einfast. Its territory and military strength are unparalleled on the continent. If they were to join the war, Orford would face overwhelming forces and attacks on multiple fronts. No matter how brilliant their tactics or how strong Grutt is individually, under such absolute disadvantage, they would be like a candle in the wind."

The Pope closed his eyes, shook his head slightly, and sighed. "This is precisely why I summoned you, Warrior Jarvis. What you've said is already part of my considerations. You must have heard of the issues with the Academy of Magic. It's always been a thorny matter for me, so I'd like to hear your thoughts on it."

In fact, the Empire of Einfast is not heavily constrained by Celeste, and even the relationship between the Magic Academy and the Glory Fortress is rather ambiguous. It is more of a nominal affiliation than a practical one, which has become a bit of an awkward situation for the Church.

Twenty Years Ago, after the death of Pope Gregory V, the leading candidate for succession was not the current Pope Magnus but Bishop Ronis, who quelled the Eastern Continent's unrest singlehandedly. At the time, Ronis was widely regarded as the most respected and powerful Light Mage and the head of the Academy of Magic. However, in the end, it was Magnus who ascended to the papacy, while Ronis remained at the Academy of Magic. As for what transpired in between, no one knows.

The Eastern Continent, separated from the West by the Highlands and the southern Fly Dragon Desert, has always been relatively isolated. The Academy of Magic, originally established by the Church as a subordinate institution in the East after much effort, always remained on the periphery of Empire of Einfast's power center. The Church's influence there was far from the commanding presence it held in the Western Continent.

However, under the extraordinary talent and leadership of Bishop Ronis, the Academy of Magic reached its zenith in prestige and influence, shaping the political landscape of the Eastern Continent. Yet, this influence was attributed to the Academy, not the Church. Many commoners were unaware of the Church's true center in Celeste, or even of the existence of the Pope, knowing only of the Academy of Magic and Bishop Ronis.

Bishop Ronis' attitude toward Celeste had always been indifferent. Not only did he ignore directives and requests from the Church, but even the only time he returned to the Glory Fortress, it was not to pay homage to the Pope but to borrow two Temple Knights from Lancelote. The Academy of Magic was often referred to as the "Little Church" in the Eastern Continent, and the fact that the Einfast Empire jointly commanded the Knights Templar with the Academy underscored the Church's limited influence there.

Celeste could do little about this. One reason was the towering prestige and unique status of Bishop Ronis—Pope Magnus never publicly expressed dissatisfaction with him. Another was the geographical barrier of the Highlands, which made direct intervention by the Church implausible. Even Alrasia couldn't directly confront the Einfast Empire, whose territory and military far exceeded its own. The Church had to turn a blind eye, content with the Empire nominally being part of the Lord's fold.

After Bishop Ronis' assassination, Celeste sent envoys to discuss a replacement for the Bishop position, but the Einfast Empire delayed with various excuses, claiming the Academy could be managed by its two high priests. The Academy of Magic offered ambiguous responses, and Celeste, preoccupied with the war against Orford, let the matter slide. Meanwhile, the Einfast Empire, which had signed a peace treaty with Orford, remains the only nation still maintaining relations with them, highlighting the immense difficulty of drawing the Empire into the conflict.

The Pope continued, "I have sent envoys multiple times to negotiate with Emperor Griffinhart XVII, but little progress has been made. Warrior Jarvis, how do you think this should be handled?"

Behind Jarvis, Bishop Adra's lips moved slightly, as if wanting to speak, but he ultimately remained silent.

After pondering briefly, Jarvis replied, "Your Holiness, I believe the focus should not be on Emperor Griffinhart XVII but on Duke Murak, the current Prime minister, and Roland, the leader of the Knights Templar. These two individuals are the true decision-makers behind the Emperor. However, both are fiercely loyal to the Einfast Empire, highly intelligent, and deeply strategic. Moreover, they are closely allied, forming a mutually supportive and nearly impregnable alliance. Dealing with them would be exceedingly difficult."

"Oh? You seem to know quite a bit about the Einfast Empire," the Pope remarked, his intrigued gaze repeatedly assessing the young holy warrior.

Jarvis responded calmly, "Your Holiness, I have spent some time in the capital of Einfast, so I am familiar with its workings."

"Good, very good," the Pope smiled and nodded. Before he could continue, Jarvis suddenly knelt and said, "Your Holiness, I am willing to go to Einfast to address this matter and ease your burdens."

The Pope was momentarily stunned, his expression filled with surprise as he looked at the young warrior.

Not only the Pope but also Bishop Adra, the bishops, and even Lancelote turned their astonished gazes toward Jarvis. The difference was that Lancelote's surprise was mild, while the bishops' were visibly taken aback. Bishop Adra, however, looked both shocked and slightly terrified.

"Good... good... good..." The Pope was the first to recover, repeating the word three times. His face, the most powerful visage on the continent, radiated admiration. "This is no easy task. I have sent many envoys without success. Are you confident in your abilities?"

Jarvis knelt lower and answered, "Your Holiness, I do not claim confidence, but it is my duty to alleviate your burdens. For the glory of the Lord and the lives of countless believers, I am duty-bound to try."

The Pope smiled faintly, and his smile conveyed a deep, heavy feeling, as if his smile was not just for the sake of smiling but to unite all the countless backgrounds and matters behind it. He stood up from his throne, walked down, and placed his hand on the forehead of the kneeling holy warrior. He spoke: "Good, warrior Jarvis. On the battlefield of Orford, you led troops into action at the most critical moment, saving Welleskay from an orc ambush. Furthermore, you have completed every dangerous task given to you by Lancelote with great success. All of this shows your outstanding skills and your courage to dedicate yourself to the faith at any moment. I can also see your extraordinary wisdom and unwavering faith in the Lord. Therefore, I now temporarily appoint you as a bishop, to go to the Magic Academy and take over the position of the late Bishop Ronis. You must ensure that the Magic Academy returns under the command of Glory Fortress and that Einfast sends troops to Orford."

Gasps of astonishment filled the room. Although the appointment was temporary, the position of Bishop was extraordinarily high, especially for someone who had been in the Glory Fortress for less than a year. Countless devoted clergy spent their lifetimes without ever nearing such a rank. Lancelote showed only mild surprise, slightly furrowing his brow. Bishop Adra, on the other hand, wore a complex expression—part disbelief, part joy, but mostly worry and fear.

Jarvis, however, remained composed, lowering his head and replying loudly, "Thank you, Your Holiness. I accept the command."

The preparations for Jarvis's new position and departure were kept as simple as possible. By the next day, Bishop Jarvis would leave for Einfast. After issuing the shocking order, the Pope retreated to a platform at the highest point of the Glory Fortress, accompanied only by Lancelote.

From this vantage, the entire horizon was visible through the castle's white holy light. The rolling, endless lines of the distant landscape hinted at infinite possibilities. The Pope's gaze swept across the horizon, his expression one of partial relaxation, like someone who had completed one task but had yet to finish the greater work.

"Your Holiness, must it be done this way?" Lancelote asked from behind.

The Pope shook his head, smiling faintly. "Rest assured, I know what I'm doing. Do you think the Academy of Magic is so easily subdued? Even without Ronis, there are still others—perhaps more formidable ones. Neither we nor the Dehya Valley can tread there lightly. Though both sides covet the Academy, neither dares to act first. I had initially intended to send Aescher, but I hesitated. He knows too much, is too wary, and not easily manipulated. Unexpectedly, the war with Orford helped resolve the most difficult issue. Now, by sending this promising young man, we can simply watch from the sidelines."

Lancelote frowned slightly. "I wasn't referring to that, Your Holiness. I meant, is it necessary to involve Einfast in resolving these issues? That territory is beyond our control... Our primary focus should remain on Orford. Dividing our efforts could lead to unforeseen complications."

"You misunderstand," the Pope replied with a sigh. "It's not that I wish to involve Einfast—it's that all these issues originated there, whether Orford or anything else..."

He looked up at the sky. The radiant midday sun caused his aged eyes to narrow, but he continued staring at the brilliant light. Softly, almost as if speaking to himself, he murmured, "Ronis, you can no longer see this, nor need you worry yourself anymore..."

Lancelote fell silent, watching the Pope's expression. Magnus' weathered face, every wrinkle like a dark trench, stood in stark contrast to the gleaming light reflected beside him, resembling a black-and-white woodcut. Lancelote, too, sighed softly.

At the same time, in a room in the lower levels of the Glory Fortress, Bishop Adra was pacing around like a restless insect on a hot pan, his previously serene and kind expression now replaced with anxiety and restlessness. Next to him was Jarvis, who had just been promoted to Bishop. He wasn't as panicked as Bishop Adra, but he furrowed his brow in contemplation. The documents and items for his upcoming journey to Einfast were being prepared by others, so he didn't need to run around.

"This is a mess, this is a mess, this is a mess..." Bishop Adra hurriedly ran from one end of the room to the other, without a trace of the composure expected of a Bishop, looking more like a headless fly. He muttered repeatedly, "I didn't expect His Majesty would notice you so quickly, that he would prepare to deal with you, no, prepare to deal with us. We must inform the others in the Guild as soon as possible, but now, with both of us unable to leave, what should we do?"

Jarvis, who had been silent until then, suddenly spoke, addressing Bishop Adra, "We can't tell my father about this for now."

"Of course not..." Bishop Adra absentmindedly replied while pacing, but then quickly reacted, asking loudly, "What did you say?"

Although they both knew it was Bishop Adra's private quarters, where no one would be eavesdropping, the sudden outburst still startled both Jarvis and Adra.

Bishop Adra lowered his voice and said to Jarvis, "What are you joking about? Don't you know His Majesty plans to deliberately send you to the Magic Academy? Don't you understand his true intention?"

"Of course, I know. Otherwise, why would I volunteer to go?" Jarvis coldly snorted. "From the moment he started asking me those questions, I had a pretty good guess. Didn't he already know the answers in his heart? He just wanted me to say everything step by step in front of the other Bishops, then find some excuse to send me away. If I refused, he'd have a reason to ensure I would never be promoted again. So, rather than waiting for that, I might as well volunteer myself."

"But other places are fine, but Einfast's capital is your hometown! Do you really think you can fool your friends and family who've known you for twenty years?"

"Friends and family? I don't seem to have such things." Jarvis sneered with a touch of sarcasm and helplessness, then gestured to his own sharp-featured face. "Besides, with Master Shante's skill, even I can barely recognize myself in the mirror sometimes, let alone others."

"This is just about the face. But what about everything else? Roland, the leader of the Knight Templar, Sandru... These people can't be fooled by just a face. If you show a flaw in front of them, it might even put your father in danger," Bishop Adra urged, his impatience palpable, as if he were dealing with a stubborn child he desperately wanted to restrain. "And do you think you can succeed in this task? Think about it. Sandru, Roland, and the lady from before—do you think they'll hand over the Magic Academy to you? Do you think Einfast will break its alliance and attack the Orford supported by Ronis?"

"So, what do you suggest I do? At this point, do you think I can back out? What will happen if I run? He'll send you to the Magic Academy instead?" Jarvis responded firmly.

"No, His Majesty... won't send me," Bishop Adra's expression became somewhat strange, hesitant to continue. "He's specifically targeting you. He probably realized you're from the Dehya Valley and plans to send you to Sandru, forcing us to confront him and Agrenel. Regardless of the outcome, both sides will suffer."

"Don't worry, I have my reasons. I won't die in vain." Jarvis smiled lightly, but his eyes were as serious as a mountain, sharp as a knife. "Have you considered this? If I succeed in this task, not only will Orford be within our reach, but even in our open influence, we can stand shoulder to shoulder with Celeste. The position of Bishop, once just a title, will immediately become a way to fill the vacuum left after Lord Aescher's death." His voice grew quieter, and the intensity in his eyes grew stronger. Not only was it serious and sharp, but there was also a bubbling undercurrent of molten passion. "Moreover, that's where I lost everything. I'm going to take everything back from there. So, tell others if you must, but don't tell my father. I don't want him to interfere."

Bishop Adra smiled bitterly. "Others? But who else is there to help you? Master Shante only cares about his research, and now he's focusing on creating the Fear Knight. He probably wouldn't care if someone intruded into the Deya Valley. Nopolinot went to Nigen to mediate, and without the last intervention by Alrasia, those people might have taken advantage of the situation to defeat them completely. Master Aiden returned to the Tooth Tower to handle Aisri's matters... And your father is the acting Guild leader. Both in reason and emotion, you should tell him."

Jarvis slowly shook his head, his voice and gaze resolute, unyielding, "No, this is my own matter. I will handle it alone. Even if I fail, I don't want to drag the Guild into it."