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Richard tried to maintain a calm facade, but he couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

Not that he was in denial.

What happened, happened.

Facts must be accepted as they are.

It was just that the events were so far beyond the realm of common sense that he struggled to comprehend them.

“A prophet? A seer? Why now, of all times?”

He didn’t deny the existence of prophets in the distant past.

Richard was a devout royal, always responding faithfully to the church’s call.

After all, his great-grandfather was Fulk V, King of Jerusalem, and he was a cousin to Queen Sibylla.

As a follower of Saint Edmund, Richard harbored a secret desire to join the Crusades one day.

But that was only after he became king, to set an example as the leader of the Angevin Empire and King of England.

He had no intention of being pushed into an expedition by Henry II.

So, Henry II’s sharp maneuver this time had caught him off guard.

“But for it to turn into this…”

The meeting, originally intended to mediate between Henry II and Richard, had completely changed its meaning in just one day.

A mediator between God and man, reappearing after a millennium.

Nobles, witnessing the birth of a new prophet, lined up outside Edward Marshall’s tent to pay their respects.

And with the news that the newly appointed pope was indeed Clement III, as Edward Marshall had said, the situation reached its conclusion.

The Patriarch of Jerusalem, Heraclius, publicly apologized for his haste and bowed his head.

Raymond V and the Archbishop of Tyre openly moved to align with Marshall, while Henry II was left in a bind, unable to act.

“Now the problem is my position… What should I do?”

Until now, Edward Marshall had been nothing more than an ornament to enhance Richard’s authority.

Of course, being the most skilled of the Knights Templar, he would be a valuable asset on the battlefield.

In other words, a sword to wield at his command.

That was all Richard had thought of him.

But now?

With the Patriarch of Jerusalem and the Archbishop of Tyre acknowledging Marshall’s divinity, it was only a matter of time before the Vatican issued an official opinion.

Since the Vatican took root on this earth, this was the first time a prophet had been officially recognized.

Thus, Richard found it difficult to predict the extent of Marshall’s influence.

The only certainty was that his influence might surpass that of any noble, perhaps even a king.

The sole person who could pray to God and receive revelations of the future.

If, by any chance, such a person declared, “If Richard becomes king, the Angevin Empire will fall,” his position would be doomed.

Fortunately, Marshall seemed more aligned with him than with Henry II, but the thought of the opposite was terrifying.

“Even I’m in this state, so Father must be in a real panic. He should have played his cards right from the start.”

In truth, this was advice for himself as well.

Richard took an uncharacteristic deep breath, adjusted his attire several times, and stepped outside.

He had never felt fear on any battlefield, but this was different.

An unfamiliar emotion clung to the depths of his heart, refusing to let go.

What if Marshall had only followed a revelation to join him, but his true intentions were different?

What if Marshall had received a message that his youngest brother John should be king instead?

Richard, who held the prophecy given by Marshall, couldn’t bring himself to doubt him.

In fact, he felt a kind of reverence.

Lost in these thoughts, Richard soon found himself at the entrance of Marshall’s tent.

Voices murmured from within, suggesting someone was inside.

Unable to resist his curiosity, he quietly approached and listened.

“Sir Marshall, I apologize once again. It was a grave misunderstanding, not ill will. We shared a bond in Jerusalem, after all.”

“I don’t mind. I never considered the possibility of being wrong from the start.”

“Hahaha, those who receive messages are indeed different.”

The voice was familiar, though the tone was different from before.

“Is that the Patriarch of Jerusalem? Not content with a public apology, he sneaks in at night to beg. He must be truly desperate.”

After all, he risked being branded a heretic for persecuting a true prophet. This was no time for pride.

“I’ve sent a detailed account of today’s events to the Vatican, without exaggeration or omission. If necessary, I’ll testify with the Archbishop of Tyre in Pisa, Rome, or Constantinople, so don’t worry.”

“Thank you. It must be a burden for you to travel to Constantinople.”

“Hahaha… It’s no burden. If this opportunity brings harmony to the long-divided Eastern and Western churches, it would be the Lord’s will.”

The Catholic Church and the Eastern Orthodox Church had long crossed an irreparable divide.

The Pope and the Patriarch had excommunicated each other, and people no longer found it strange.

“The division between churches is a great tragedy of our time. We’ve come too far to reunite, but I hope we can at least coexist peacefully. Surely, God desires that.”

“Indeed. I believe your presence could bridge the divided churches. Neither the Pope nor the Patriarch of Constantinople can deny you now.”

“Do you think the Orthodox Church will agree?”

“If they don’t, they’ll be heretics. With such clear evidence, how could they deny it? We’ll support you, so don’t worry. Hahaha!”

Patriarch Heraclius continued to chatter for a while before finally leaving.

Richard, hidden in the shadows, waited until the Patriarch was out of sight before standing up.

“The church is making its move.”

The competition to claim the prophet, who had appeared after a thousand years, had already begun.

He couldn’t afford to fall behind.

Richard cleared his throat a couple of times, stood before the tent, and spoke slowly.

“Marshall, are you there? I’d like to have a word.”


Things were progressing smoothly, but there was one thing I hadn’t anticipated.

Why were so many people constantly pestering me?

From morning, nobles with nearby estates and church clergy begged for a meeting, leaving me no time to rest.

I thought I could relax at night, but then the Patriarch came to grovel.

Now it was the future Lionheart’s turn.

I gestured to Richard, who stood awkwardly, to take a seat across from me and placed a glass of wine on the table.

“Please, have a seat. I received some fine wine as a gift today. Would you care for a glass?”

“Thank you, I’d appreciate that.”

His face brightened at the offer, giving me a hint of his intentions in coming here.

His demeanor was vastly different from when we first met, which was both amusing and intriguing.

“So, you wanted to talk?”

“Ah, yes. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I overheard your conversation with Patriarch Heraclius.”

What do you mean, “didn’t mean to eavesdrop”?

If he had just been standing there, I would have noticed him.

“If you heard everything, you know it wasn’t much. Just a summary of ‘I’m so sorry, let’s get along, please don’t speak ill of me, and I’ll speak well of you to the Vatican.’”

“Blunt, aren’t you? So, are you going to do as the Patriarch wishes?”

“With Jerusalem fallen, it’s like a ship with a broken anchor… or rather, a ship with a shattered harbor. He’s in a pitiful state, and I, being generous and kind, should be understanding.”

“So, you have no intention of retaliating.”

The real concern wasn’t the Patriarch of Jerusalem, but he was dragging the conversation out.

I brought up the topic Richard most wanted to hear about in a calm tone.

“His Majesty Henry II must be having a hard time.”

“He lacked foresight. Didn’t he fail to recognize you and instead tried to oppress you?”

“I expected as much from the start. So, I feel a bit sorry for him.”

Historically, he had less than two years left to live, a powerless old man.

Perhaps this incident would exacerbate his already worsening ulcers due to extreme stress.

Richard’s face tensed with anxiety, perhaps misunderstanding my words.

“Feeling sorry… does that mean you’ll let this go?”

“No, I won’t. I can’t, and I shouldn’t.”

Letting things slide might earn me a reputation as a good person, but it would ultimately lead to being underestimated.

It was the same in the game.

If you just keep being overly generous and forgiving mistakes, the country will spiral into chaos, overrun by those who don’t know their place and betray you.

Ruling through fear alone is like building on sand, but completely excluding fear from governance is equally an illusion.

To firmly establish my authority through this incident, I needed to make an example of someone.

However, targeting a bishop would only lead to a strained relationship with the Vatican, so that’s out of the question.

And dealing with a minor noble wouldn’t really bolster my authority, so that’s not an option either.

By process of elimination, only one person remains.

“If the Vatican issues an official statement, I plan to express my own thoughts. After all, it’s not a choice but a duty for Europe to reflect and move in a more progressive direction.”

“Understood. I’ll support you as much as I can.”

“Thank you. Having the future King of England on my side is indeed reassuring.”

At the mention of becoming the King of England, Richard’s face lit up, dispelling any previous unease.

Since we’re in this together, it’s best not to sow doubt, so I gave him a clear signal of support.

“Thank you, truly. I understand your intentions clearly, so I look forward to working with you.”

“The pleasure is mine.”

Even with the church’s authority backing me, without secular power, there are obvious limits.

In this regard, Richard and I are a perfect complement to each other.

I can provide the legitimacy and authority he needs, while he can offer the practical power I require.

After all, isn’t life best when we help each other?

I poured another glass of wine for the visibly moved Richard and asked, “So, what titles and lands might I expect to receive?”

”…?”

In this world, while it’s good to help, it’s even better to ensure you get your due.