Only God

Arsia seemed quite pleased with Eden's expression, speaking leisurely,

"You say I am a woman, that is true, but to say I am a sinner, that is terribly wrong."

Eden came to his senses, responding coldly,

"Where is the mistake, what do you people consider sin?"

Arsia said with a mocking laugh,

"Consider sin? You seem to regard me as an utterly irredeemable person. Let me tell you, I have also given alms, and I have blessed the poor too."

Eden was unmoved.

There are far too many hypocrites in this world who lie and engage in deception, tarnishing the mortal world and standing proudly at the summit, preaching kindness and righteousness.

How could he be certain that this princess wasn't lying? He only believed in what he could see, and the sins she had committed were undeniable.

Seeing that he was unmoved, Arsia scratched her temples, clicking her tongue in wonder,

"You truly are strange, no wonder you dared to slap my father the Emperor. Hey, you know what? I've wanted to do that myself for a long time; you did what I wished to do."

Eden frowned,

"I didn't do it for you, I did it for God."

His implication was clear, telling Arsia not to think too highly of herself.

"I understand, I understand,"

Arsia nodded,

"because you didn't know me then."

Eden stared directly at the sinner, asking bluntly,

"Your Highness, what exactly are you here for? To convey your father's wishes? Whatever the motive, I am ready to receive it. If there is no such motive, then please leave; this is not a place for nobility like you."

Arsia met his gaze, and was not angered by his rudeness,

"I don't have my father's command; I came here alone. I was curious about you, and indeed, you are just as I had speculated."

Eden asked,

"What speculation?"

"Stubborn, devout, yet foolish, just like a perfect saint from the legends,"

Arsia stated, spreading her hands.

"Then I thank you for your praise,"

Eden responded coolly.

"You're truly cold-hearted. Haven't you thought what if I could be of help to you?"

Arsia laughed slightly, with a hint of a threat,

"Even if I can't help you, you should worry whether I might kick you when you're down."

Eden said,

"Then please, I am prepared to be a martyr."

At those words, Arsia was suddenly taken aback, looking at Eden incredulously. Having grown up in the Imperial Palace, she had seen all manner of scheming, but she had never seen someone so eagerly seeking death.

"How odd…"

Arsia murmured.

Then, she slightly raised her eyelids, meeting Eden's gaze.

Strangely, his judging eyes ignited a nameless rage within her.

"How interesting, 'Martyr'!"

Arsia began with biting sarcasm,

"It seems you've already considered yourself a martyr, how amusing. Then what is my father? A tyrant who persecutes the righteous and is judged and condemned to hell after death?"

Eden answered slowly,

"Who's to say he isn't?"

The princess was instantly amused, Arsia broke into laughter, her graceful figure almost curling from mirth, seeming nearly in tears, then she slowly lifted her head, looking at Eden.

"How laughable, how beautiful your thoughts are, but does the world revolve around you? After the Great Council, the Great Shepherd will hold a transcendent position within the Church, a position he acquired with my father's assistance. Do you know what that means? It means the Great Shepherd will obey my father, he will have what he wants, and will again crown him within the faith. And you, you are merely a heretic, you will not bear the name of the righteous, nor will you be considered a martyr. You will just be a fool in a play, like a breeze, a chirp, a snowflake, gone in the blink of an eye, while my father's wise name will still rule the Empire even after his death."

Arsia lifted her chin, her height dominating even more over the priest.

Eden clenched his fists, his lips turning pale, as he understood, Arsia's words were not empty.

Compared to an emperor who claimed to rule the mortal world, what was a mere priest?

After a moment, Eden calmed down and said slowly:

"God will sever all, and the power of judgment belongs to Him, forever belongs to Him."

Arsia found it laughable. She twitched the corners of her mouth, nearly laughing again—how ridiculous! Here was this person, very much alive, yet obsessively pondering the afterlife; neglecting the joys of life to labor futilely for God. Such a person was the epitome of a dull priest, inherently incompatible with poetry.

Eden loathed her, and she could not help but feel disdain for him as well—he recounted his own sins, but how would he know that she'd also done many good deeds, even as a child when she had kissed an old woman suffering from dysentery.

Thus, Arsia, as if losing interest, casually remarked:

"Foolish priest, we are still alive, discussing matters of the afterlife is pointless."

Eden countered:

"Life is but a moment, eternity starts with death."

Arsia blinked. She found the man ridiculous and pitiable—for the world he saw was nothing like hers. Scoffing at his words, she thought, why await death to enjoy the splendors of life?

Arsia was now sure that he was nothing but a typical priest. She had once thought he might be an interesting person, but no, he was just a fool, a simpleton. Such a man was not worth her amusement or relief. The time had come; it was the moment to part ways.

Her Highness slowly put on her hood and stood up from the chair.

Eden wore a look of liberation.

Seeing this, Arsia decided to provoke him one last time as she was leaving.

So, she said:

"Good priest, spare me the scriptures—do tell of a horrifying Prophecy instead! You might as well forget playing the righteous man. Content yourself with playing the fool in contrast to my father.

Bless you, may you enjoy the spit and curses of the masses, for that's what you deserve."

With these words, Arisia's figure disappeared from the interrogation room, the scent of her garment's perfume lingering in the air.

Eden clenched his fists, staring in the direction of her departure. She was so beautiful, yet so vile—how could God allow such a person to exist in the world?

Such a sinful person, wielding her inherent power so recklessly, now also shaming him. It was much like the tyrant King of Aja who persecuted the True Believers.

The more Eden thought about it, the angrier he became. His fists hurt from clenching, and suddenly, when he heard the Prison Director's footsteps outside, an inexplicable fear washed over him.

Arsia's words, though infuriating, were not untrue.

He had prepared for martyrdom, but after his death, he would not be regarded as a righteous man, a martyr. No, he would not win the tears of the people but would instead attract scorn and spittle, while the Emperor, falsely claiming divine miracles, would be celebrated as the Wise King by the Great Shepherd Danschel and revered as a role model, receiving divine praise.

Such was power, terribly capable of turning white to black, and black to white.

Thinking of this, Eden shivered, overwhelmed by a wave of helplessness, agony, and despair, as unbearable as gnawing worms.

"Get up, you wretch, get up!"

Lost in his thoughts, Eden was forcibly dragged up by the Prison Director and pulled back into his cell.

The Prison Director was rough, but Eden did not care. He remained lost in his thoughts. Physical torture meant little—whether beaten, burnt, cleanly beheaded, or cruelly stoned, he did not fear it. The physical body was temporary. The greater the sufferings inflicted upon him, the more it sanctified him, helping him transcend his earthly body.

Yet, he feared the disgrace—not being regarded as a righteous man, not as a martyr after his death, for the soul lives forever. The thought of his soul bearing many curses after death made Eden shiver with cold.

Back in his cell, his will to live suddenly surged. Eden tightly grasped the bars, muttering something.

............

"Is this... the Prophet Xilan's letter?"

(Constantine VI) stared gravely at the papyrus before him.

Xilan, a disciple of Noen, had returned to the mortal world and was acting as a Prophet. This was no secret in the world of True Religion.

To celebrate the appearance of the Prophet, the Empire had even held a seven-day festivity.

However, for Constantine VI, who spent most of his days in the Imperial Palace, the Prophet... was an exceedingly distant figure.

His existence was like an irrelevant dark cloud, a wave far away, to be smelled in the winds but never seen with the eyes.

Yet, the letter before him made Constantine VI suddenly realize that the Prophet was not a distant figure, but rather, might be very close.

"Has it been verified?"

Constantine VI looked up at the Great Shepherd Danschel beside him.

The Great Shepherd nodded heavily,

"I verified it with the Ancient Language, and the handwriting matches the Prophet's exactly."

Constantine VI asked meticulously:

"Is there no possibility of forgery?"

The Great Shepherd shook his head,

"Probably not. With the Ancient Language we know, we can't directly verify whether it's genuinely from the Prophet."

(Constantine VI) frowned, hoping the letter was fake, so he continued:

"Why can't it be verified?"

The Great Shepherd patiently explained:

"Your Majesty, the Prophet is a chosen of God, acting on God's will...

The Scripture also says that once, the Queen of the Three-eyed Ape People had someone cast a Prophecy for Prophet Noen, which not only failed but backfired.

We must not offend the Prophet without his permission."

(Constantine VI's) frown did not ease. As a True Believer, he was well aware of the contents of the Scripture.

Perusing the letter, Constantine VI slowly said:

"Unexpected... a mere priest causes so much trouble."

In this world, only three powers can conquer mankind: taxation, the threat of the sword, and forced faith.

Similarly, only three powers can mold authority...

This is what Constantine taught his eldest son, the co-emperor of the Empire.

And the Emperor had not yet told him,

authority... often bows to another form of authority.