The Crown Prince Who Raises Alt Characters

#Chapter 350 The Delinquent Priest Rufus (8) - Image Making To the residents of Boots city, the Wardens were nothing less than overwhelmingly powerful figures. To say that they were nothing more than a bunch of thugs who only fought well when the situation favored them? Even when that bunch of thugs was armed with sharp spears and armor, always moved in groups, and hesitated not at all to use violence against the weak, could they still be looked down upon? And yet Rufus—that man in the black priest's robes—had overwhelmed every last one of them by himself, using nothing but his bare fists, without so much as a single weapon in hand. It was a strength beyond comprehension. To the residents of Hasht, most of whom lived their entire lives without ever knowing anything about mana, mage rank, or superhumans, Rufus simply could not be regarded as the same kind of human being. Since he wore priest's robes, it was easy at first glance to assume he was an Apostle, one who acted on behalf of the gods' will and wielded their divine power. But no one had ever heard of an Apostle beating down the soldiers of another temple and carrying out a heresy inquisition against ordinary residents. If that were so, then wasn't that man perhaps nothing more than a demon in disguise, mocking the gods? Either way, it was a hopeless story. If he were a god's Apostle, it meant the god had grown wrathful at the residents; if he were a demon incarnate, it meant the god's forces had been defeated by demons. Far more residents remained around them than those who had already been defeated by Rufus, but far from standing against him, they didn't even dare to think of fleeing. They merely trembled in fear. "—That's enough now, please. Priest." And so, everyone was struck with shock at the sight of Raphaela boldly standing in Rufus's way. Rufus tilted his head. Perhaps because of his narrowed, thin eyes, even that one light gesture looked deeply suspicious and dubious. "Enough, you say—does that mean you want me to stop the heresy inquisition?" "Yes. The residents haven't done anything wrong. It was only some of the soldiers who committed the offenses, after all." "No. You're wrong, Raphaela." Rufus cut down her words firmly. "They knew of the corruption and indulgence running rampant in this temple, and yet they turned a blind eye. Standing by and doing nothing can also be called a sin." "That's unreasonable. How are they supposed to raise their voices in front of people who wield power and resort to violence at the slightest provocation?" "If all the residents had joined their strength and pushed forward with a firm will, could these men have run so wild as they pleased? If the residents had refused to give them food to eat, refused to give them a bed to rest easy in, and united to stand against them every time they acted unreasonably, these men would never have been able to run rampant." He wasn't telling them to take up weapons and cut down the Wardens. Nor was he telling them to persuade those in power with some lofty theory. Simple resistance alone would have sufficed, and yet the residents hadn't even done that much. "To turn a blind eye simply because you yourself weren't the one suffering right now—that is cowardice. To turn a blind eye to the fact that you yourself could become a victim at any time—that is foolishness. To flatter the strong, condemn the weak, and call it justified—that is ugliness." And so these people were sinners. At Rufus's bold assertion, no small number of the residents flushed with shame and lowered their heads. It might have been because they were relatively conscientious people, or it might have been that, swept up by the mood of hearing an overwhelmingly "strong" man say so, they simply felt guilt along with everyone else. Either way, Raphaela couldn't accept it. No—she didn't want to accept it. "Priest, your logic is merely sophistry." "How so?" "You're strong, so it might be fine for you to make that choice and fail, but these people's whole lives could be ruined because of just one act of resistance." "The scriptures say that right and wrong are absolute, and so there's no need to consider each individual's circumstances one by one, do they not?" "Then the scriptures are wrong. Or the interpretation is wrong." It was an irreverent, extreme thing to say. The believers unconsciously held their breath, and Rufus's face, too, shifted into an icy, expressionless mask. "Mind your words, Raphaela. Depending on the circumstances, you yourself could become the subject of a heresy inquisition." Even at Rufus's threat, Raphaela didn't retreat a single step. "You said it yourself just now. That the Wardens, who turn a blind eye to the true essence of struggle and only go around tormenting the weak, are nothing more than a bunch of thugs. And yet, aren't you, Priest, the one now suppressing the weak with the threat of a heresy inquisition?" By this point, it was practically a declaration of war. At Rufus's icy expression, the believers around them all held their breath at once. The patients who had experience being treated by Raphaela wanted to step forward, fearing Rufus might swing his fists, but the aura Rufus was giving off was so intense that their legs trembled and they couldn't move. After a brief standoff. Rufus soon shook his head. "Well now, this can't be helped. Being told I'm acting no different from a mere thug, and then still forcing the issue—that would only cost me my own dignity." He returned to his usual beaming smile, but not a single resident could look at him and think him any less formidable for it. "But mark my words, Raphaela. This isn't the end. I'll keep watching over you and this city." What he intended to do after watching, Rufus didn't say. But no one present was optimistic enough to see that ominous smile and picture a hopeful future. And so, the first heresy inquisition, so full of noise and trouble, came to a close. *** Cynics of the world commonly say that "humans are inherently ungrateful creatures who don't put much value on kindness received." Claiming that the world is far too full of people who only praise with their mouths while refusing to give any real reward, or who belittle another's achievements out of petty envy and jealousy, or who simply shut their mouths and pretend not to know. But even such people, upon hearing this particular story of Raphaela's, would find themselves somewhat at a loss for an answer. Some mysterious, natural-disaster-like man was about to have the entire city's people beaten down and strung up on poles, and a single woman alone stopped him? And on top of that, this same woman hadn't just washed her hands of the matter after doing it once, but had gone on ever since to keep treating people at cheap prices? And to add to that, this natural-disaster of a man had declared that he would keep "watching over" the woman and the people of the city from now on? …In this kind of situation, is being ungrateful even possible? Those who understood kindness would revere the woman. Those who understood self-interest would try to grow close to her. Even those who neither understood kindness nor could calculate self-interest would hold themselves back, terrified of acting up and getting beaten senseless by a natural-disaster-class priest. To cut to the conclusion, Raphaela became the city's benefactor. And a rather excessive benefactor at that. "Oh, oh, Saintess! Thank you, thank you...!" "Ah, aaah! No! Grandmother! Please don't kneel on the cold floor, get up quickly!!" "Saintess! Here's a chicken we raised at our own home! Please boil it down and eat well!" "Thank you. But, um, I don't actually know how to prepare a chicken, ah, no! You don't have to apologize for that!!" "Saintess! Please forgive us!! We will never, ever commit such a sin again!! This is offered as a token of our repentance!" "No, you shouldn't be giving me things like this!! Please, donate it instead!!" The citizens' support for Raphaela exploded, and along with it, so did the destruction of her daily life and peace of mind. She went out to buy just a single apple on the street, only to have the whole city's people gather around her in a massive crowd, and the owner of the apple stall, insisting he couldn't possibly take money from the Saintess, gifted her apples by the boxful. There were also those who came to the clinic laden with food and medicinal herbs, saying they wanted to repay her kindness, as well as those who, fearing they might fall out of favor with the clinic and get targeted by a certain priest, tried to offer up tribute money (and this was not a figure of speech) of their own accord. "Ha ha ha, isn't that all simply because you're so popular, Raphaela? Just accept it as karmic reward." "What karmic reward!! You're the one who staged all of this!!" Though Raphaela could act decisively, strength against strength, whenever she faced someone powerful, she was fundamentally a bit soft-hearted with a tendency to dig her own grave, and so she clutched at her head. When Rufus had abruptly started spouting off something insane like a heresy inquisition against every resident of the city, Raphaela had stepped forward with the thought that she had to stop it first—but looking back on it later, that had been a rather strange thing to do. No matter how reckless Rufus tended to be, he wasn't the type of man to swing his fists carelessly at the weak. Even if, by some remote chance, he had swung his fists, it would only have been after he'd built up a firm, flawless conviction and logic to back it. And yet Rufus's logic had had holes loose enough for Raphaela to refute on the spot, and when she'd actually struck at that weak point, Rufus had backed down with astonishing ease, handing Raphaela the reputation of having "saved the people from a terrifying priest." Having gathered the surrounding respect and goodwill through a reputation that had practically been spoon-fed to her, it was only natural that her conscience, fundamentally good as she was, couldn't help but prick at her. "This is a completely rigged scam." "But you didn't know that, did you, Raphaela?" "Why does that matter? Either way, the fact that I was deceived doesn't change." "No, that's what matters more than anything. Because you bravely stepped forward there knowing full well the possibility that I might really resort to violence. All to stop something unreasonable." "...Even if you shower me with praise, I have nothing to give you in return." Whether out of embarrassment at the excessive praise, Rufus watched with a smile as Raphaela quietly averted her eyes. At that smile of his, one that seemed like not even a single needle could pierce it, Raphaela let out a deep sigh and asked. "So, what will you do from here on? Now that the troublemaker's gone, can I just go back to treating people the way I used to?" "That wouldn't be bad either, but even so, the number of patients you alone could see is limited, Raphaela, and more than that, doing only that would change just this one city. There are still many cities left in Kargal's Faith-Based Territory." Saying he'd brought someone along today to solve just that problem, Rufus brought someone in from beyond the door. Upon confirming who it was, Raphaela's eyes went wide. "Mayor Fredrick?" "Hm, ahem, well, this is the first time we've properly greeted each other. I am Fredrick, Mayor of Kargal's Boots city." Perhaps it was mortifying enough to stand face to face with the very person he had once tried to hunt down as a witch by branding her a heretic, for Fredrick kept repeating little coughs, and his gaze, too, couldn't settle in one place, wandering restlessly here and there. "Our Mayor Fredrick here has agreed to repent of his past wrongdoings and cooperate in the medical reform of Kargal's Faith-Based Territory." Rufus didn't bother explaining just what manner of threats, persuasion, and sweet-talking had gone into that process. Raphaela had roughly guessed at the circumstances, but there was a word that bothered her more, so she asked again. "Medical reform, you say?" "Hasht's medical system, techniques, and culture are, frankly speaking, a complete mess. Precisely because Divine Power is such an almost absurdly overpowered technique for healing, the related field has ended up far more stagnant compared to other nations." Beside him, the Mayor let out an uncomfortable groan, but neither Rufus nor even Raphaela paid it any mind. "I intend to change that. Since fighting, too, can only be done properly when one is healthy, this could even be argued to be proof of faith toward Kargal." "You just said 'argued,' didn't you." "It can be claimed to be proof of faith." Rephrasing it like that hardly settled the matter. Whether or not he knew what was really going through Raphaela's mind, Rufus continued speaking. "I'll have priests stationed permanently at the clinic and entrust them with treatment. Not just ignorantly pouring out Divine Power, but equipped with proper medical knowledge so that efficient healing becomes possible." "Centered around you, Raphaela, I'll bring in volunteers from among the pharmacists, herbalists, and healers of various regions. That way, they can share their medical knowledge with one another. In the process, we'll also take on apprentices." "Once enough knowledge and results have accumulated, we'll use that as grounds to set up a similar system in other cities as well. We repeat this. Quite simple, isn't it?" A brief silence passed. Raphaela glanced sidelong at Mayor Fredrick beside her. A conversation passed between them through their eyes alone. Does that look simple to you? No. Raphaela weighed her words for a moment, then decided to start with the very first question that came to mind. "Um, will the other cities really just sit still for this?" Rufus answered. "If they don't comply, that makes them heretics." (E/N: Anyone disobeying the demon lord is an heretic) It was, indeed, an answer worthy of a priest who had reached the very pinnacle of delinquency.