“The Paladin beheaded a merchant from the Golden Idol Guild!!”

Isaac wasn’t the only one struggling to manage and control the fanatical madness of the Church. Emperor Waltzemer, who bore the dignity, authority, grandeur, and most crucially, the livelihood of the Empire, was a prime example of this struggle.

Until now, he had been striving to diminish the authority of the Church and reclaim even a fraction of it. Recently, however, it seemed more like he was trying to prevent the Church from strangling the Empire to death.

“What were they thinking? Not just any merchant, but one from the Golden Idol Guild?”

“A ship from the Guild was plundered by the Dawn Army. The Paladin, who was nearby, took no action and was confronted by the merchant, leading to the enraged Paladin beheading him.”

“Is that Paladin’s head just for decoration? Does he think he can just chop off anyone’s head? Granted, we’ve known for a while that those Paladins are empty-headed, but why didn’t the merchant file a complaint with the authorities instead of the Church?”

Waltzemer’s face turned crimson with rage, but seeing his ministers sweating profusely and suffocating, he paused. He realized that his horns were blazing brightly, causing discomfort to those around him.

Waltzemer seldom allowed his emotions to manifest through his horns. He disliked revealing his feelings to others, regardless of the inconvenience it might cause. However, this incident had shaken him. Normally, he would suppress his emotions, but the repeated similar incidents had pushed his patience to its limit.

Standing up with his hands on the conference table, Waltzemer began to walk slowly around the room. The ministers found it terrifying to have the enraged Emperor walking behind them, but they knew he wasn’t a madman who would kill them in a fit of rage.

There was someone else he wanted to kill.

“…The Pope.”

Waltzemer muttered suddenly.

“Has His Holiness made any pronouncements about this incident? He must have been informed before I was.”

“Our priest reported that His Holiness asked how much gold was on the ship.”

Waltzemer laughed derisively.

The ministers feared his horns might blaze up again, but the Emperor didn’t explode in anger.

After laughing heartily, Waltzemer calmed down, having mentally killed the Pope fifteen times.

“Offer condolences to the Golden Idol Guild and assure them of compensation for the plundered cargo and a sufficient condolence payment for the deceased merchant. What was on the ship?”

“Fortunately, nothing too valuable, just wheat and barley.”

Waltzemer nodded but suddenly something struck him as odd.

“Wheat and barley? That means the incident happened near Rehwis Harbor in the southeastern part of the Empire, which is suffering from a poor harvest, right?”

“Yes.”

Waltzemer instinctively deduced the situation. The Golden Idol Guild likely intended to sell the grain at high prices in the famine-stricken Rehwis area. Alternatively, they might have gathered what little was harvested to fulfill a contract.

However, the Dawn Army was there.

Whether they demanded charity or a more reasonable price, the merchant probably responded poorly. The enraged Dawn Army then beat the merchant and looted the cargo.

Could the Dawn Army have been the only participants in the looting? It’s likely the local residents joined in as well.

The resident Paladin likely ignored the situation on purpose, as the Paladins are still neighbors to the locals. But the merchant insulted and provoked the Paladin, leading to his beheading.

‘Damned.’

The truth remained unknown.

Waltzemer’s deductions were based only on circumstances and common sense. Honestly, he wasn’t in the mood to blame anyone. The result was a plundered ship and a beheaded merchant, and now he had to deal with the aftermath.

Moreover, if merchants start fearing for their lives, who would bring food to Rehwis Harbor during a famine?

‘The real problem is the mad Pope who incited the Dawn Army in the first place.’

Waltzemer ultimately decided that the root cause of the situation was the Pope.

Just as all poverty in the Empire was blamed on the Emperor’s lack of virtue, the moral poverty of the faithful was the Pope’s responsibility. Waltzemer knew well the character of the Pope, unlike the Paladin who beheaded the merchant.

He decided to wield a long-buried dagger he had kept in his heart.

As he paced around the conference table, he returned to his seat. The Emperor picked up a document prepared by Isolde, detailing an investigation into a certain bishop.

Bishop Katyn Rahel.

A cardinal candidate the Emperor had in mind.

“When is the Cardinal election?”

“They’re aiming to proceed as quickly as possible, so it should be within this month…”

Waltzemer nodded. He decided to put all his efforts into the upcoming Cardinal election. Ensuring the success of the Dawn Army was crucial, but for the Empire to survive beyond that, the Pope had to be dealt with. And he wanted to hasten that process.

‘If we have to re-elect a Pope… I need at least two Cardinals on my side.’

Knock, knock, knock.

As Waltzemer was making his firm resolve, someone knocked on the conference room door. Though the Emperor frowned, he knew an interruption meant urgent news. A pale-faced messenger entered.

“Your Majesty, from the Church…”

“What is it? Another Paladin beheaded another merchant?”

Prepared for the worst, Waltzemer was startled by the messenger’s words.

“The Church is invading Olkan Code!”

***

“Olkan Code? The Olkan Code has mobilized?”

Isaac asked the refugee in a surprised tone.

The Issacrea estate was crowded with refugees who had suddenly poured in from the east. Most of them came from the eastern region, Seor. Fortunately, Isaac had ample food supplies stored up just before the harvest, so feeding them was not an issue. The problem was that the Olkan Code was on the move.

“Yes. The border principalities were raided by a horde of orc nomads, and there are frequent reports of sightings of at least 100 troops.”

The refugee murmured in a voice soaked with despair.

“I heard that the Church provoked the Olkan Code. Is that true?”

“This is the first I’m hearing of it. The Olkan Code is far from the Holy Land. Why would they?”

“I don’t know either. If that’s not the case, they must have taken a wrong turn, or the Dawn Army did something crazy. If they can behead a merchant from the Golden Idol Guild, they are capable of anything.”

Isaac nodded absentmindedly at this statement.

He had already heard about the Paladin beheading the Golden Idol Guild merchant from Caitlin. If the Dawn Army had harmed a merchant, they would have retaliated in secret, but since it was a Paladin, it was a tricky issue for them.

However, Isaac found it strange no matter how much he thought about it.

‘There’s no benefit in provoking the Olkan Code.’

The orc nomads started hundreds of years ago when the prophet Olkan led all the orcs eastward. Although not devoid of humans, the main population was orcs. Being on the outskirts of the continent, they had little historical interaction with the Empire.

Due to differences in faith, they were part of the Black Empire, but just as the Immortal Order viewed the living as inferior beings tormented by base desires, the Olkan Code also saw the undead as pitiful and weak, trapped souls in bones.

The alliance’s cohesion was not particularly strong, similar to the awkward relationship between the Gerthonia Empire and the Kingdom of Elil.

Provoking the Olkan Code and dragging them into a war was tantamount to the Church voluntarily sentencing itself to death by the Dawn Army.

Subject Here – No matter how foolish the Church was, it was unlikely they would do such a thing on purpose. It was more plausible that the Olkan Code had been planning a large-scale raid and used the excuse of the roaming Dawn Army to launch an attack.

“Whether the Dawn Army did something stupid or the Olkan Code used it as an excuse to revert to old habits doesn’t matter.”

With the Dawn Army looming, it was clear the Olkan Code did not come for a temporary raid. Historically, there was a record of the Olkan Code raiding right up to the front of Ultenheim.

“Jacquette, prepare for battle immediately. We need to go to Seor and assess the situation. Also, request support from Lenheim and Count Richard. When asking Lenheim for support, meet directly with Rottenhammer, the commander of the Brient Paladin Order. And send a message to Duke Delia Lyon in the central region that the Holy Grail Knight requires her assistance.”

Since Isaac had heard the news from a refugee, the central authorities would already have the information. Including details about the enemy’s exact scale, the affected areas, and the reasons for the conflict.

The Imperial Army might already be on the move even before his request for support was sent.

‘Unless the Emperor is already clashing with the Church.’

***

Isaac, having sent out requests for support, took off on Nel.

He brought only Hesabel along, in case they needed to rescue an important figure. Although it was already dusk, flames could be seen flickering here and there even before they reached Seor. The Olkan Code liked to set fires after their raids, as part of their own ‘ritual.’

‘It really is the orcs.’

Orcs were generally thought of as barbaric raiding tribes, but the orcs influenced by Olkan’s religion were a bit different.

They were still barbaric raiding tribes, but with a pragmatic and systematic approach.

‘Hesabel, have you seen orcs before?’

‘Yes? I’ve seen them a few times… but I’ve never sucked their blood.’

‘You’ve never fought them, have you?’

‘No.’

‘Don’t get close, shoot arrows, and keep moving while you fight.’

Though puzzled by Isaac’s unfamiliar warning, Hesabel took it to heart. As Isaac flew low, the view of Seor came into focus.

Seor was on the verge of falling, with fires blazing everywhere. Many soldiers still defended the town hall, but Isaac knew it wouldn’t last long.

‘The city walls…’

Hesabel looked astonished at the signs of destruction on the walls. The damage seemed miraculous, but it wasn’t due to an Olkan miracle.

Nomads might be expected to struggle with sieging walled cities, but these orcs had something even the Empire hadn’t yet fully adopted.

Then, the orcs pulled something out in front of the town hall. Isaac groaned briefly when he saw what he had expected.

It was a cannon.

The orcs grinned at the soldiers holed up in the town hall and shouted loudly.

“Fire!”

With a deafening roar, fragments of rock shattered the town hall. One large stone tore through the flimsy doors and ripped apart the soldiers behind them.

Hesabel was horrified by the sight.

‘What is that?’

‘It’s a cannon. Part of the knowledge Olkan stole from the gods.’

The Olkan Code, symbolized by a single chain, emphasized only one rule.

Be free. Especially, be free from the gods.

The contradictory doctrine of not being bound by faith was the philosophical and Codetory essence of the orcs. Isaac decided to grant them an even greater freedom.

As Nel began a low flight, a ripping sound filled the air.

The orcs, who belatedly looked up at the sky, shouted something just as lightning shot out of Nel’s mouth.

The precariously stacked gunpowder exploded, scattering the orc horde in all directions.