Isaac, though somewhat bewildered, followed along, as he had intended to gather information from the priests anyway. He was also curious to see how his words had spread from the Issacrea territory. It was common for stories to get distorted as they passed from mouth to mouth.

“I never imagined that the idle chatter I engaged in outside would reach all the way to the capital. Have many people heard my stories?”

The young priests responded to Isaac’s words with awkward smiles. The most enthusiastic of them, a bespectacled priest named Claire, spoke up first.

“It’s hard to say it’s a mainstream opinion. However, among people our age, it comes up quite often. Usually, bishops or deacons dislike it, calling it radical.”

“It’s the outdated thoughts of those who cannot read the trends of the new era! Unlike those who just hide comfortably in their parishes, mumbling to themselves, people like you, the Holy Grail Knight, go out into the world and see the reality for yourselves.”

It seemed that young people everywhere held resentment against the entrenched power. After all, regardless of logic, old people had to be overthrown for young people to have a chance. The Codex of Light was an extremely rigid, conservative society. It was natural for the youth to be enthusiastic about Isaac’s new assertions, given his dynamic activities domestically and abroad.

“I am curious about how my stories have spread.”

The young priests eagerly shared their thoughts.

“Recently, our main topic of discussion has been miracles. Miracles are clearly acts of grace bestowed by a real deity. But as you, the Holy Grail Knight, mentioned, people today worship the miracles rather than the deity.”

“Stronger miracles, more splendid miracles! How is it different from buying miracles with money? It’s hard to tell if we’re in the Golden Idol Guild or the Codex of Light.”

“That’s right! Miracles are just tools to follow the will of the deity, yet people increasingly worship these tools. It’s as if having stronger miracles proves stronger faith!”

The Codex of Light is a strictly hierarchical society.

As one ascends the hierarchy, stronger miracles are bestowed upon them. If by chance someone is granted a stronger miracle, they automatically rise to a corresponding rank. This process appears to involve very little actual faith.

Strictly speaking, the church is ultimately just a tax collector. They gather faith, collect it as stipulated, and then no further duties are imposed.

The young priests were dissatisfied with this. They continued to talk for a long time.

As Isaac listened to their stories, he began to feel a peculiar sensation.

“So, what do you think should be done?”

“As you, the Holy Grail Knight, said, we must return to our roots! The Codex of Light has already perfected the rules of the world, and our purpose is to understand and explore them. Rather than just using miracles as tools without understanding them!”

“That’s right. The Lighthouse Keeper taught us the doctrine of miracles using light and fire, but it was meant to light lamps and kindle bonfires, not to burn our enemies!”

‘Well, it seems it was indeed meant to burn enemies.’

Honestly, among the angels, none had burned more people than the Lighthouse Keeper. The destruction he wrought in Miarma, the holy land of the Salt Council, alone was exemplary.

But that was the fault of the Lighthouse Keeper, not a misinterpretation of the doctrine by the priests.

The Codex of Light never stated anywhere to burn enemies. From the outset, the Codex of Light was simply order itself.

The power that makes the world what it is.

The Lighthouse Keeper merely took the most destructive aspect of that power and presented it as a fundamental doctrine.

Isaac was amazed at how accurately the young priests had grasped his intentions. Although he had left many things unsaid for fear of being branded a heretic or apostate, they subtly inferred even those hidden sentiments.

“Hmm, I’m actually surprised at how well you all have understood my words. Forgive me, but have we ever met and discussed this directly…?”

Honestly, it was astonishingly precise. They had organized and supplemented even the points Isaac had not fully formed into coherent logic.

It wasn’t entirely unbelievable. It was common on Earth for revolutionaries to create ideologies, and for those who followed to refine and organize them.

But that wasn’t what had happened to Isaac.

Claire smiled brightly, pleased.

“No need to say such things! We are glad that we have accurately understood the Holy Grail Knight’s words. Of course, it was easier for us to comprehend because you spoke based on the teachings of the Owl.”

“What?”

***

The teachings of the Owl? Isaac wondered what that meant.

Isaac had roughly studied the contents of the scripture, but the teachings of the Owl were new to him.

“Did you not speak based on the teachings of the Owl?”

Claire asked, rather puzzled. Though Isaac was taken aback, he was not a priest exploring doctrines, so it wasn’t strange for him to be unaware.

“It seems to be an area I’m not familiar with, so please explain.”

Claire seemed even more pleased that Isaac was asking to be taught.

“Ah, it’s not surprising you don’t know, as it’s a non-mainstream opinion classified as Apocrypha. We just assumed you had been influenced by it since there were so many similarities.”

Given that it was the capital’s cathedral, it wasn’t strange for them to have books that could be classified as forbidden. In the remote monastery where Isaac had been, such Apocrypha were impossible to find.

Claire and the young priests then began to explain the teachings of the Owl.

In short, it was a form of Codex of Light fundamentalism. The argument was that the current church was distorted and that it was necessary to restore the original order. It even went further to assert that miracles were acts of distorting order and that the descent of angels was harmful to the ecosystem.

‘Wow, someone crazier than me existed before?’

There were indeed many points where their views remarkably aligned with Isaac’s.

Upon reflection, it was natural that many would feel disillusioned by the corrupted church and attribute this not to the deity but to the church’s corruption. It was no surprise that Isaac’s logic wasn’t novel. Such pioneers had already made these efforts; the church simply hadn’t changed.

The angels likely disapproved.

“Who is this Owl? It doesn’t sound like a person’s name.”

“Well, we don’t know either. We only found the records. Considering how boldly the teachings addressed even the angels, it might be one of the Archangels.”

Isaac’s original purpose was to investigate the cemetery murder case, but he couldn’t ignore such a kindred spirit who existed in the past. Especially if that person was so hidden from history.

“Hmm, can I also see some related materials?”

Isaac’s words caused the priests’ faces to stiffen.

“Well, the truth is, we assumed that you, the Holy Grail Knight, had studied the teachings of the Owl, but this isn’t something that can be shared lightly with outsiders.”

“Ah… I can see why the higher-ups would be uncomfortable with it.”

But Isaac wasn’t one to back down easily.

He activated the Eye of Chaos at that moment. As his pupils turned purple, Isaac delved into Claire’s mental world. Claire’s mind was half open, making it easy to peer into.

‘Huh?’

As expected, Claire was thinking about the teachings of the Owl and their origins. However, what Isaac found there was unexpected and startling.

“I think it might be difficult. But if there is an opportunity later, I will try to arrange a meeting! Could you visit us again sometime?”

“…Of course. I will definitely visit again.”

Isaac responded a beat late because of what he had read in Claire’s mind. He barely managed a hasty goodbye before heading out of the cathedral.

He had heard something unexpected and found an unforeseen clue.

‘They found such an Apocrypha in the underground cemetery?’

Their academic fervor was burning in a strange place.

If Isaac’s suspicions were correct, the identity of the ‘cultists’ secretly operating in the cemetery were the young priests of this cathedral.

***

Isolde slowly climbed the hill of the cemetery.

As befitted the cemetery near the largest city of the empire, its size was immense.

It was fortunate that cremation became the norm after the rise of the Immortal Order. Otherwise, the burial customs of the past would have accumulated enough graves to create a small mountain.

‘They built catacombs underground, then erected tombs above them, then extended further to create more graves, which collapsed during the war and got buried by earth, and now there’s a columbarium on top of that…’

The cemetery was layered like strata, much like Ultenheim. When the teachings of the Codex of Light began to spread across the continent, believers would hide in this labyrinthine graveyard to hold worship, evading the ancient gods. Now, ironically, cultists were hiding there.

At the top of the hill, she saw a large furnace and priests conducting cremation.

The priests swung incense burners to send souls to the afterlife, while the white ashes were prepared for the columbarium.

‘Hmm, what to do…’

Isolde did not ponder for long and followed the funeral procession into the columbarium. No one suspected her, dressed as a monk.

After placing the ashes in the columbarium, the priest performed a simple blessing and left with the mourners. Hidden among the columns, Isolde surveyed her surroundings.

She had promised Isaac she wouldn’t go into the underground cemetery. However, the well-maintained columbarium, filled with incense to repel the spirits and sacred fire burning in every corridor, was safer than the old town.

‘This is almost like a monastery chapel.’

It was natural for the Codex of Light to obsessively manage cemeteries, wary of the Immortal Order’s terror.

The columbarium, though indoors, was well-ventilated and dry, making it hard for ghosts to linger. The peculiar cultists she encountered in the old town would be the same.

‘So, their hiding place must be in the less maintained underground…’

Isolde had already memorized the map of the cemetery before entering.

She walked through the corridors until she found stairs leading down. Naturally, the entrance was barred with iron grates, but she opened it with a set of keys stolen from a priest during the funeral procession.

Pickpocketing and lockpicking were basic skills for an Inquisitor.

“Light illuminates the darkness, reveals secrets, and opens locked doors.”

Muttering a scripture-like justification, Isolde took a sacred torch from the corridor and descended. The ever-burning sacred fire illuminated the surroundings much brighter than a regular torch.

So far, there was no danger. The hazardous part would start at the old, chaotic ruins not on the map. She planned to explore just up to that point.

The underground cemetery was meticulously managed and designed like a labyrinth to prevent any possible escape of undead. Even if someone got lost in the dark and panicked, Isolde skillfully found her way down each level. The architectural style and decorations changed with each descent, revealing the layers of the past.

The deeper she went, the more the air smelled different.

Isolde felt she was traversing decades with each level. The dust she disturbed contained the ashes of the dead from before the rise of the Immortal Order.

After a long descent, she stopped near the last corridor she found.

‘This looks dangerous.’

The corridor she stood in matched the map, but a large hole in front of her did not. It seemed the space had collapsed due to an earthquake or flooding. Isolde peered inside.

Strange symbols and decorations were carved into the walls. It seemed like a place that required an archaeologist rather than a theologian to understand. Observing the symbols, Isolde made up her mind.

‘Alright then.’

She retraced her steps back to the columbarium and waited for Isaac. As the sun set, she saw Isaac hurrying towards her. Isolde called out to him.

“Did you find any clues?”

“Well… I found something, though I’m not sure if it’s a clue. I didn’t expect you to be waiting outside. I thought you’d still be exploring.”

Isolde looked at Isaac with exasperation.

“Do I look like an idiot? I wouldn’t recklessly dive into a place without knowing what’s there.”

Though the events in the monastery valley were intense, Isolde always ventured into the field with evidence and safeguards. The danger always exceeded her expectations. However, this time, she found a clear sign of danger that even she hesitated to ignore.

“I investigated the underground cemetery and found some concerning traces. I’m not sure if it’s a clue…”

With that, Isolde pulled out a palm-sized piece of stone. The decorative tile that had fallen from the wall had a crudely carved tentacle with strange patterns.