Only God

When the news reached the prison, it set the prison guards ablaze with chatter.

"Hey, did you hear? Even the Prophet has heard of this man."

"The Prophet knows about him slapping the Emperor?"

"What nonsense, why would the Prophet care about that? It's his heretical thoughts and the prophecy."

"That prophecy about the Savior, could it be true?"

"Fake, absolutely fake, otherwise why wouldn't the Prophet ask the Emperor to release him?"

...…

The guards were in an uproar, and the not-so-large break room suddenly trembled with their voices.

This Priest had offended His Majesty in front of everyone, the ruler whom even the Gods had to respect, and even a light punishment would be dealt with exile. As for the most severe punishment, it would involve suffering excruciating pain while alive, and after death, one's reputation would be forever tarnished.

According to the Prison Director's intention, Eden's secret execution was a done deal. The Emperor would first issue a document of pardon, then confine him to a Monastery, torment him for a year, and execute him afterwards. His body would neither be buried nor cremated but tossed into the wilderness outside the Imperial City, where there were mass graves for thieves, murderers, arsonists, and other criminals.

But now, it seemed there was a glimmer of hope.

"Is there really a chance?"

A prison guard asked nervously.

As prison guards, they had also participated in tormenting Eden, and if Eden were to be released as innocent, they would be like the Logos people who persecuted Angels, as depicted in Scripture.

The True Religion was Danschel's state religion, and those guards were all True Believers. The thought made them grow fearful.

"What's the panic, his fate is still uncertain."

Another prison guard mustered his courage:

"Are you scared by this? Do you think he can walk away unscathed? He is a heretic, Angels are not."

After hearing this, a third guard cautiously spoke:

"But... he really seems like a righteous man, doesn't complain or cause trouble, and recites Scripture silently every day, very much like it says in Scripture: 'You shall lay down your life, and lay aside your self, for what you believe, you must love, praise, and walk with God.'"

"What use is it looking like a righteous man? The righteous in our eyes may not be righteous in the eyes of God."

Replied the prison guard.

In the break room, the debate over whether or not Eden was a righteous man resulted in a fierce argument. This was no insignificant question; to them, whether Eden was a righteous man or not was of great importance. If he was a righteous man, then they were the ones persecuting him, which was terrifying to think about. But if Eden wasn't a righteous man, then their persecution would mean nothing.

The quarrel lasted for quite some time, with no one convincing anyone else. The Prison Director suddenly entered during the most intense part of the argument, chastising the noisy crowd.

"What's all this noise? What is there to argue about?

What use is talking about this here, do any of you have half the brains of the nobles?"

Under his scolding, the prison guards all closed their mouths.

Seeing this, the Prison Director's tone softened, and he instructed:

"These next few days, don't treat him like before. Stop everything and take good care of this Priest."

Once the Prison Director's orders were given, the guards nodded in succession.

Finally, the group of guards stopped waking Eden at regular intervals. Not only that, they ceased skimping on his meals, and using their own money, bought fine wine and meat to treat the Priest.

Facing the changes in the guards' behavior, Eden was puzzled.

And it was only after inquiring that the Priest learned about the heresy trial by the Great Council from their mouths.

As he heard this news, Eden's hands, which were holding a bowl of barley gruel, suddenly lost strength, and the clay bowl dropped to the floor, shattering instantly.

He was in disbelief.

"A heresy trial, the Prophet is requesting a heresy trial?"

Eden said in a daze.

The prison guards nodded repeatedly, carefully observing Eden's expression.

Eden snapped back to his senses, and hurriedly grabbed a prison guard by the collar,

"What's going on, why does the Prophet want to try me?! What is going on?!"

The prison guard tried to struggle, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break free. This frail Priest now suddenly exhibited astonishing strength.

"I don't know, I don't know, I'm just a servant of the prison, how would I know such things?"

The prison guard cried out.

Eden let go of him, took a few breaths, and tried to calm down.

Afterward, the Priest asked several more questions in a row, but what could those prison guards know? Whatever was asked, they had no clue.

After the group of guards left, Eden stood up and started pacing back and forth restlessly in the cramped cell.

The Prophet had actually learned about him...

And moreover, demanded that a heresy trial be conducted by the Great Council for himself.

Eden's emotions were complex beyond description.

On one hand, he felt a surge of excitement at the attention of the Prophet, but on the other, he was terrified by the Prophet's request.

The Prophet had actually called for a heresy trial by the Great Council, not for his release.

What did this mean?

If he had asked to be released, it would have proved that he was a righteous man and indirectly confirmed the truth of the Savior's Prophecy he had heard.

But the Prophet had not.

Could it be...

A horrific possibility crossed Eden's mind.

Could it be that the Savior's Prophecy was fake? Fabricated?

Eden suddenly shivered, feeling a sincere fear rise from his feet as if to crush his soul. At this thought, he felt as though half the world was slowly crumbling.

He was not afraid of death, nor was he afraid of humiliation; he was afraid that what he believed in was not the truth, but mere nonsense.

"The Prophet didn't outright label me a heretic, but left my fate to the Great Council. Is this because he is merciful, giving me a chance to renounce heresy?"

The more Eden thought about it, the more terrifying and possible it seemed. Suddenly, he slumped to the ground, his eyes void of spirit.

After an unknown duration, a familiar voice came from the opposite cell.

"Priest, congratulations."

Eden raised his head to look.

It was Timian, that half-Falgorn, half-human hybrid.

"What are you talking about?"

Eden asked.

"What am I talking about... Priest, this trial is an excellent opportunity to clear your name."

Timian said, astonished.

The words of the hybrid seemed to stir something within Eden, and he suddenly realized, could he be overthinking it?

The prophecy he believed in might not necessarily be false. After all, the Prophet hadn't directly accused him of heresy in the letter.

Moreover, the prophecy he believed in could very well be true; he had found numerous pieces of evidence in the Scriptures that seemed to correlate. How could that then be a lie?

Regardless, at this moment, Eden couldn't definitively state that the prophecy was absolutely true, nor could he proclaim it utterly false.

Gradually, Eden calmed down and looked at Timian, whispering,

"Thank you."

Timian was somewhat bewildered; he hadn't done anything, just made a casual remark, and somehow that seemed to help.

The awareness that he might not be a heretic allowed Eden to finally cool down.

But this calm did not last long.

Another kind of panic rose again.

This panic was inexplicable, indescribable, but no matter what, it lingered persistently, as if some sin had been planted in his heart, watching it take root deep within, helpless to extricate himself.

Eden didn't even know what he was really afraid of.

Despite no prison guard disturbing his sleep anymore, Eden tossed and turned with restlessness. The darkness of the deep night found him not as a Martyr indifferent to life and death but more like a decisively ordinary person.

When dawn arrived, Eden finally fell asleep, only to wake up shortly thereafter, and it was nearing noon. He looked outside; the scorching sunlight was searing the prison as if God was passing judgment on sinners, and the panic suppressed by sleepiness sprung back to life.

Eden felt uneasy.

I feel as though I'm not long for this world.

As his mind became more alert, he finally understood what he was afraid of.

Words like Arsia's, akin to the Devil's tune, invaded his ears. He was still afraid of a death filled with endless humiliation.

Under the sunlight, Eden saw his own shadow on the ground, feeble and cringing, as if that was the real him.

Death... death was not what he feared; it was merely a painful sleep before the soul left the body. He wasn't afraid of the agony at the time of death; he could disregard it with courage. But, he was terrified of becoming an object of ridicule, a grotesque character in a play after death.

It was not hard to be a Martyr, but what kind of Martyr would one be if despised by all?

That would make him not a Martyr but a madman, a fool, one of those deranged witches.

"No... no... I cannot die in such disgrace..."

Under the sunlight, Eden curled up, muttering incessantly.

After all, those prophecies might be true or false; what's to lose by giving them up?

The Great Council's heresy trial was an opportunity; as long as he didn't persist in those claims, no one would label him a heretic. Then, under the public's scrutiny, the Emperor wouldn't be able to persecute him either.

Everything could wait until after the Great Council; it wouldn't be too late to proclaim the Savior's Prophecy after the trial.

Within the confined prison cell,

Truth and honor tugged incessantly at Eden.