Chapter 459: The New Doctrine

As evening fell, the sun had already settled against the western horizon. The massive orb cast a golden-red rim along the treetops of the western forest, and the radiant glow spilling from the clouds stretched like a curtain across the entire sky, bathing the city in the same warm hues as the woods.

Gawain walked alongside Amber on the way to the Holy Light Church. The bells signaling the end of the workday rang out from several main clock towers throughout the city, their chimes echoing through the bustling streets.

“Ah—work’s over!” Amber’s ears perked up at the sound, a bright smile spreading across her face. “Then I’m not coming with you—”

Before she could finish, Gawain casually grabbed the half-elf’s collar and pulled her back to his side. “Don’t be like that—you don’t punch a clock like everyone else. Besides, is it really that hard to go to the church once? Didn’t you say the church Light manages doesn’t have that oppressive vibe you hate?”

Amber twisted and squirmed in his grip, muttering, “But Light’s so annoying! He’s always nagging me about being honest, steady, not sneaking around, not being lazy, and all that… I’m not even a follower of the Holy Light, why should I listen to him?”

Gawain shot her a sideways glance. “If you put it that way… I might just tie you up in the church and give you a proper education.”

Amber: “…Hey, watch my mouth! Look at my lips—don’t hit me after reading them!”

Gawain suddenly wondered if bringing Amber along had been a mistake. He regretted dragging this infuriating, god-awful troublemaker with him. But then again, going out without her to bounce off was just plain boring.

It was a headache-inducing contradiction.

The church doors were ajar, and faint voices drifted out—someone was preaching. Gawain glanced at Amber, silently signaling her not to cause trouble once inside, then gently pushed the door open.

A calm, peaceful atmosphere filled the church. Gawain saw Leight standing on the pulpit, dressed in a simple short robe, narrating the story of the Holy Light’s origin. A dozen or so townsfolk sat on benches lining the aisles. Among them was a small, translucent figure glowing faintly, mimicking the others by sitting on a bench, tilting her head as if listening intently—but every few sentences, she fidgeted and looked around, clearly not paying full attention.

Gawain quietly led Amber to a seat in the back row. Light noticed them and paused briefly, but Gawain gave a slight nod to indicate he should continue.

Light’s steady, gentle voice echoed through the church: “…On the seventh day of the ‘Eternal Night,’ the first Holy Light was born in the darkest hour. A humble horse keeper, praying for light to come, was answered by the Holy Light descending through the black mist…”

This was the familiar story of the Holy Light’s birth, known to every believer. But Light omitted all the hollow, unearned praise of the Holy Light deity, instead telling the simplest, most straightforward version: the first person to pray wasn’t a divine emissary but an ordinary horse keeper; his motivation wasn’t to glorify the god or fight darkness, but to seek herbs beyond the eternal night to heal his family.

To professional Holy Light clerics, this might seem a huge provocation. But to common folk who barely knew the history or had never read any scripture, it was simply a more interesting story—and they listened with rapt attention.

One special little listener, however, wasn’t quite so serious. The glowing figure in the front row suddenly floated up, looked around curiously, then beamed brightly and drifted over to Gawain, waving in midair.

“Hello, Emily,” Gawain whispered.

“Heehee…” Emily giggled softly, then floated down to the seat beside Gawain.

Gawain noticed part of her body seemed to merge with the chair.

Clearly, as a spirit, Emily couldn’t sit like a physical being. She was just pretending to sit, hovering in place, crouching in midair—but she seemed to enjoy it.

Back on the pulpit, Light continued: “…The yearning for light aligns with the path of the Holy Light. Those who seek the light receive its favor. Before the Holy Light, a horse keeper and a pope are equal, for the Light’s morality transcends wealth and status—just as on a mountain, the flowers, trees, birds, and beasts of the plains cannot be ranked by height… To pursue higher morality is to transcend social rank.”

“That tall guy’s got a point,” Amber, who had been grumbling all along, actually listened for a moment and nodded, shaking her head. “Though I don’t like his stiff, self-righteous act, he’s way better than those other preachers.”

Gawain nodded slightly. “Still limited in some ways… but overall, not bad.”

Emily tilted her head, drifting off into a daydream, then suddenly muttered, “…Boring.”

Amber froze, staring wide-eyed at Emily, who was pretending to sit on the chair. “You can talk?!”

“Of course,” Emily blinked, then suddenly stared behind Amber’s head for a couple of seconds before saying, “Sister, there’s a black glow above your head…”

“Ah, that’s nothing. I’m the Night’s Chosen—it’s a blessing from the goddess,” Amber waved it off casually, then looked at Emily with curiosity. “Last time we met, you just floated around giggling—I thought you couldn’t talk.”

Emily leaned back into her daydream again, then after a long pause, giggled and floated up to the roof.

Light’s sermon was nearing its end: “…Everyone has the right to seek the Holy Light, just as everyone can yearn for the light. The Holy Light shines on all, not just priests and clerics. People give to the church for justice, not to ‘buy’ the Light, for the Light dwells naturally in every heart…

“As long as one follows virtue, acting with justice, kindness, tolerance, and integrity, all are blessed…”

The little figure leapt down from the roof like a falling leaf, landing on Light’s shoulder with a happy smile. Emily waved at the congregation. “Whew—done for today!”

Light looked a bit embarrassed, trying to coax Emily off his shoulder while nodding to the congregation. “That’s all for today.”

The congregation chuckled, returning Emily’s greeting with smiles. They stood and prepared to leave, some only now noticing the lord seated in the back row and quickly bowing in respect.

Gawain acknowledged each with a nod. Once the last believer had left, he approached the pulpit and nodded to Light. “Looks like everyone’s gotten used to Emily?”

“She startled some at first—she always hides on the roof and then suddenly jumps down,” Light said with a wry smile. “I had to spend a lot of time explaining her origins. Now people aren’t afraid anymore.”

Emily peeked out from behind Light’s shoulder, looking around curiously.

Gawain reached out and tried to touch Emily’s head. The sensation was strange—his hand passed through her body but met slight resistance. When he touched her hair, he felt a distinct warmth, the gentle heat of the Holy Light.

Light volunteered, “Her condition seems stable now—both body and mind.”

Gawain nodded. “Did Master Kamail say anything?”

“Master Kamail said she’s doing well, just to keep observing. Lately, I’ve mainly been making sure she doesn’t spend too much time in the sun…”

Gawain was surprised. “Can’t she be in the sun? Isn’t she a Holy Light spirit? Why would she fear sunlight like an undead?”

Light quickly clarified, “Oh, it’s not fear. If she’s in the sun too long, she gets too bright—so bright that it never gets dark at night, and I can’t sleep at all…”

Amber gasped, “You sleep with Emily?!”

Light was mortified, laughing helplessly. “We have separate rooms, but once she falls asleep, she floats all over the church…”

Gawain thought for a moment, then patted Light’s shoulder seriously. “You’ve got it tough.”

“Not too bad—she’s less restless now, and I can just cover my eyes with a cloth.”

“I came to talk about the new doctrine and how to spread it,” Gawain said, steering the conversation back on track as they sat on a nearby bench with Light and Amber. “I heard your sermon just now—you’re already trying to teach the doctrine we discussed last time.”

“Yes,” Light nodded. “I organized what you told me—returning the ‘authority to interpret scripture’ to the believers, emphasizing that religious leaders aren’t absolute authorities; downplaying the image of the Holy Light deity; gradually replacing harsh old rules with a more universal, accessible moral code; stressing tolerance, progress, and self-discipline; removing all extreme, stubborn, and exclusionary elements from the original doctrine to broaden its appeal. The new doctrine revolves around these three points.”

“Are the believers accepting it?”

“At first, many people were confused, but they were still able to accept it. Only a small number of staunch believers showed resistance. But I believe their opposition can be softened,” Leight said, a complex expression flickering across his face. “The vast majority of ordinary followers are common folk—before coming to Cecil, they couldn’t even read a word or had never opened a single scripture. They really have no idea what’s written in the holy texts. Basically, they just believe whatever the local priests tell them. And those priests don’t care much about how devout these people are. As long as the divine magic remains under the church’s control, and the common folk are willing to pay for it, the priests are satisfied… Under these circumstances, promoting new doctrines actually becomes quite easy.”

“The real obstacle isn’t the common people,” Gawain said, “it’s the vested interests. The clergy in Luan City are the ones who will resist the new teachings most fiercely. So it’s time for us to move to the next phase of our plan.”

“Just give the order.”

Gawain paused briefly, then looked Leight in the eye with determination. “You know about the new printing factory built in the city, right?”

“Of course. I even went to see it—it’s truly an incredible sight.”

“Imagine if one hundred thousand leaflets and pamphlets outlining the new doctrine were dropped all over Luan City. What do you think the clergy there would do?”

(End of chapter)