The St. Sigismund Cathedral, erected nearly one and a half centuries ago, was imposing in its appearance. As an outsider, it was clear to me that the intention behind its construction was to outshine the renowned Notre Dame de Paris. Given the enduring rivalry between Novilter and France, it was hardly surprising that the state of affairs a century ago was even more contentious. Even the choice of the cathedral's name was a deliberate jab, honoring the canonized Duke of Burgundy who had spent his life at odds with the King of France.
Consequently, Wilflaes' central cathedral ended up being one and a half times the size of its Parisian counterpart. But that's where the positive comparison ends. The structure was overbearing, unnecessarily massive, and oppressive. Sure, some might find a certain charm in it, but to me, it was evident that the local architects fell short of recreating the masterpiece that is Notre Dame. They aimed to build something grander, more elegant, more beautiful, but only managed to make it grander.
However, over a span of a century and a half, the cathedral did manage to develop a certain aura. Nearly all tourist guides labeled it as one of Wilflaes' main attractions. More importantly, it maintained its original purpose and didn't become a museum like its Parisian counterpart. Sermons were still given at the St. Sigismund Cathedral, which also functioned, in a manner of speaking, as the headquarters for the Cardinal of Novilter.
In this world, unlike mine, a cleric of such rank held considerable power. And this wasn't an understatement. Apart from the church status, their influence was amplified by the fact that only a Sensum of Maker level could become a cardinal! The power of Oliver de Sancy, the Cardinal of Novilter and Prior of the St. Sigismund Cathedral, was evident in his "patronage" of the ongoing G20 meeting. To put it accurately, the responsibility of organizing this high-level meeting was borne by him and his headquarters. Despite the enormous responsibility and workload, Oliver de Sancy found the time on the opening day of the G20 to personally deliver a sermon at the cathedral to his congregation.
Naturally, to avoid drawing too much attention, the meeting of the kings had been scheduled to occur not here, not in the heart of Wilflaes. The chosen location was an ancient monastery located twenty kilometers from the capital. It genuinely surprised me to see the cardinal here, in the cathedral, with his congregation instead of greeting the most influential people on the planet who were currently arriving in Novilter. While unexpected, it did make sense: this was exactly how a devoted church minister, who cared about his parishioners, should behave.
The sermon had concluded nearly thirty minutes ago when Zanh Kiem, clad in casual attire, ascended the cathedral's steps and ventured through its imposing doors. As my friend made his way, he frequently caught the disapproving and even slightly irate glances of those exiting post-sermon. I empathized with these people. Why was Zanh dressed in such a manner? Was a Hawaiian shirt, shorts, beach flip-flops, and a pirate skull bandana appropriate attire for a cathedral visit? Despite my advice to opt for a more suitable wardrobe, Zanh Kiem disregarded my suggestions, and this was the outcome. However, judging by the grin on the Maker's face, he had anticipated this reaction and was now reveling in it. How did such a troll like him ever become an inquisitor, given his character?
Throughout all this, I remained by my friend's side, clad in Metatron, but I trailed him in the Break, unseen by the townsfolk.
The cathedral's interior was significantly more impressive than its exterior, primarily due to its brightness. Massive stained glass windows, displaying scenes from the lives of saints, flooded the space with light, giving the cathedral's interior an airy, weightless feel. The numerous rows of starkly simple benches were now vacant. Only a small group of people lingered around the cardinal, presumably awaiting an official blessing. Approaching this group, Zanh Kiem casually leaned against the nearest pillar, feigning interest in the ceiling's fresco. He behaved not as the abbot of the Abode of Knowledge, the second most significant religious complex in the capital, but as a random tourist.
Of course, the cardinal spotted my friend almost immediately but gave no indication. Only five minutes later, when the parishioners had dispersed, did he approach Zanh Kiem.
"So much time has passed since your appointment as the abbot of the Abode of Knowledge, and only now have you decided to pay a courtesy call..." Dressed in a red cardinal robe, Oliver de Sancy presented a formidable image. His identity and position were instantly recognizable. "I'm afraid that you, colleague, have chosen not the best time for our personal acquaintance. As you probably know, I have more important matters to attend to today, and I'm pressed for time."
"You would never refuse an audience with my predecessor, regardless of your schedule," Zanh Kiem responded calmly.
"Hyungang tou Chong was indeed a saintly man." The cardinal's face hardened, his eyes taking on an icy chill. "And he never arrived in the company of his unseen wards." Oliver de Sancy gestured vaguely in my direction. "I would always make time to speak with him. As for you, 'ex' inquisitor, our conversations will adhere strictly to the official protocols. Now, I must insist that you leave the cathedral!"
"Nevertheless, we must persist," Zanh Kiem maintained his slight smile.
"Refused!" the cardinal curtly retorted.
"We persist."
"Refused!"
Taking a deep breath, Zanh Kiem spread his hands and declared, "Your turn."
"Ra-a-a-a-i-i-i-ig!"
My appearance... What a pity my armor doesn't come equipped with a high-speed camera. The transformation of the prelate's expression deserved historical documentation. Alas, I had no camera.
"I listen and obey the bearer of the First Angel," Oliver de Sancy declared almost thirty seconds later, falling to one knee before me.
Seeing that Zanh Kiem had no such reaction to Metatron, I was slightly taken aback. My initial thought was, "What will people think seeing the cardinal kneeling before me?" A quick glance around, however, left me astounded. The cathedral was empty, save for the three of us. Only moments ago, congregants were praying, acolytes were cleaning the stained-glass windows, and a handful of tourists were inspecting the frescoes. Now, there was no one. The only explanation was that the intimidating auras of two powerful sensums had swept everyone out of the cathedral like an invisible broom.
"That's unnecessary," I stepped back, gesturing for the cardinal to rise. As soon as he stood, I posed what was essentially a rhetorical question, but it needed to be asked, "Do you know who I am?"
"Of course," Oliver de Sancy's eyes swirled with a confusing mix of emotions. I suspected he was pleased to see me, but couldn't fathom why. "You are Break Knight Maestro," he stated, then quickly added before I could respond, "And you are the reincarnation of Rodrigo Diaz de Vivar, the Last King of Men!"
With that, he once again fell to one knee before me. To say that my jaw dropped in surprise would be a massive understatement. I was too shocked to speak. Yet, my companion seemed entirely unfazed. As soon as Oliver de Sancy rose to his feet again, Zanh Kiem remarked:
"I wasn't aware you were a part of the circle formed by Hyungang tou Chong."
"Not just me," the prelate didn't bother denying it. "This 'circle' you mentioned consists of many high-ranking ministers. Representatives from the Inquisition are also included."
"And even Dark Ones," Zanh didn't ask, he asserted.
"And even a Dark One," the cardinal had nodded and clarified, "The Dark One from your ranks."
"He was," my friend had shrugged, keeping his tone steady.
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"What?" Oliver was puzzled.
"He was, I tell you; now he isn't," Zanh had removed his bandana, exposing his wound to the other man. "Abel de Diaz crossed the line, and now he's no more."
"What a shame," sincere regret had flickered in the cardinal's eyes. "Despite being a Dark Inquisitor, Abel was a man of worth. Respectable, even by my standards. But honestly, I'm not surprised. His methods were more than contentious, and it was inevitable he would overstep his bounds. However, I genuinely regretted that it happened so soon. Could you elaborate on the circumstances of his death?"
"I killed him," I had admitted without hesitation or denial.
"So it was truly necessary," the cardinal had shrugged nonchalantly.
Damn it! What was this "circle" Zanh was referring to, and why was I in the dark?!
"Can you enlighten us on the true purpose of Hyungang's 'circle?'" Zanh Kiem had asked, repositioning his bandana.
The cardinal had glanced my way and, upon receiving my nod, responded:
"Initially, it was merely an intellectual gathering of history enthusiasts. Hyungang's passion for humanity's past was contagious."
My friend had let out a heavy sigh before saying:
"But things have taken a turn recently..."
"Each of us received a letter from Hyungang tou Chong, in which he mentioned the revival of the Last King. But before we could learn more, Hyungang was murdered."
"And after that, your circle found a purpose..." Zanh had continued to press.
"Not exactly," the prelate had shaken his head, "We agreed on the objective but differed in approach. The majority, myself included, had decided it was best not to interfere. Nonetheless, laying the groundwork for the future couldn't hurt."
"And your sermons..."
"If you've listened to them, you know what I'm preparing my congregation for," the cardinal had nodded at Zanh Kiem.
"How many members does this circle have?"
"Originally, there were nine, but Hyungang's death brought us down to eight, and now we're seven."
"And if the other six are akin to you and Abel de Diaz in terms of influence and capabilities, then your 'circle of history lovers,' after the departure of the Creators, is one of the world's most potent organizations," my friend had observed.
"We're not an organization in the traditional sense," Oliver had said, and I could tell he wasn't lying, "We're just a group of people with common views."
"And a common goal."
"And a common goal," de Sancy had conceded.
"And even the impending End of Everything didn't make you lose sight of that goal."
"The imminent End only reaffirmed that we were right," the cardinal's voice had taken on a steel-like firmness, a tone I recognized from Abel...
"Explain!" I interjected, unable to bear their cryptic conversation any longer.
"The Treaty is unnatural," his every word struck like a blacksmith's hammer on an anvil. "For nearly a millennium, it has warped the World, fostering a false sense of peace. The fact that the World is dying only proves my point. A World where the First Treaty exists is not fit to exist."
Zanh Kiem turned towards me, raising his hands in a shrug and grinning:
"Don't you think we won't even need to convince him?"
This was my first time hearing about this "circle," but after this peculiar exchange between the two Makers, I didn't need any further explanation. The picture of what was happening effortlessly pieced itself together in my mind. Hyungang tou Chong "recognized" me as the reincarnation of el Cid and presumably informed his associates about the revival of the Last King. Among those friends was naturally Abel de Diaz, who had so abruptly entered my life. Our encounter was not by chance; the legate knew about one of my past lives even before he arrived in Wilflaes. In this scenario, there were no coincidences, just the actions of one influential sensum, who met an untimely end at the hands of Eshin and left us to grapple with the aftermath of his decisions.
"Convince me? For what?" The cardinal was puzzled by Zanh Kiem's comment. "You, Maestro, don't need anyone's help to break the Treaty..." After a brief pause, he continued, "Or prolong it."
"You see, colleague," my friend responded with a deep sigh, "Maestro is not content with either option: neither prolonging it, which reaffirms the inferior status of ordinary individuals, nor ending the Treaty since that could trigger a civil war."
"I see..." Oliver de Sansi drawled in reply. "A new Treaty. We considered such an option, but we need the agreement of all parties - that's the first thing, and secondly: we couldn't figure out how to select someone worthy to represent the voice of the Break Knights for the World." The cardinal finished his statement, and his gaze shifted abruptly. He looked at me again and exhaled. "Oh..." He murmured, seemingly lost in thought. "But it might work."
"Perhaps we should relocate to continue this discussion?" The abbot of the Abode of Knowledge suggested innocently, adjusting his bandana and scanning our surroundings.
"Umm," the cardinal mumbled, as if roused from a trance. He too glanced around, "You're right, we shouldn't disturb the others. Let's move to my office."
To avoid drawing unnecessary attention, I trailed beside the two ministers from different denominations in the Break as they navigated the grand corridors of the cathedral. For the seven-minute journey, neither of them uttered a word. I had the impression that for some reason, these two sensums weren't particularly fond of each other. However, I didn't think this would hinder them from reaching a mutual understanding.
The cardinal's office was incredibly spacious and filled with light. Aside from the regular and stained-glass windows, all the walls were filled with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, densely populated with books. A substantial, seemingly antique wooden desk held a central position in the office's layout. On this desk, alongside the typical office necessities and books, sat two massive, slightly curved monitors, each at least thirty-six inches. Surprisingly, despite their obvious modernity, they blended harmoniously with the surrounding antiquity. If memory serves me right, these models only hit the market a month ago and were still a rare and costly novelty. Evidently, Oliver de Sancy, much like Hyungang tou Chong, was a big fan of the latest technology, perhaps like all the other members of their "history enthusiasts' circle."
With a casual wave of his hand, as if inviting us to take the available chairs, the cardinal seated himself at his desk, clicked his mouse, and focused his attention on the screen to his left.
"The forum's schedule," he explained.
Upon exiting the Break, I took a seat opposite Zanh Kiem and purposely turned my full body towards the host of the office.
"Tonight..." the prelate began, "is not suitable. There are accommodations to sort out, plus brief formal meetings. Thursday, the final day of the forum, is also impractical since a feast is planned to celebrate the summit's conclusion. Tuesday and Wednesday are devoted to several speeches followed by personal meetings among the heads of state." He paused, pondering a bit, then shook his head. "Also not the best time," he added, noting something down with a click of his mouse before leaning back in his chair. "But on Monday, tomorrow, a spiritual day, the main event will be my sermon before the kings." He took a moment to think, glanced at me, and continued, "I'll need to rewrite it, incidentally. In light of new information, as Abel de Diaz would have said if he were alive and present here. And after my sermon..."
All of a sudden, Oliver de Sancy halted his speech, and his expression transformed, becoming somehow entirely different; as if he had shifted from an important matter to savoring his favorite music. The cardinal turned away from us and directed his gaze onto one of the monitors, his fingers tapping the keyboard at an impressive speed. As I was about to ask Zanh Kiem what was going on and why the cardinal's demeanor had changed so drastically, my friend whispered in an almost inaudible voice, his lips barely moving:
"Don't ask."
"The flight from Rio arrived in Wilflaes on Monday at 18:23." The cardinal announced without addressing anyone in particular. He jotted down a note and then swung his attention back to his computer, his fingers dancing across the keyboard. After a few minutes, he added another note.
"The flight from Jakarta arrives in Wilflaes on Monday at 17:58."
A minute passed before he switched from typing to scribbling again:
"The flight from Hanoi arrives in Wilflaes on Monday at precisely 18:30."
After making the third entry, the cardinal leaned back in his chair, his gaze slowly regaining its usual penetrating and icy demeanor. He shook his head, picked up his notebook, and read the notes he just entered as if coming across them for the first time.
"Don't ask." His gaze lifted to meet ours, unconsciously echoing Zanh Kiem's earlier words. "I just know that these flights are somehow significant. Very significant."
"That's a good sign," my friend nodded in response.
"Yes," Oliver affirmed.
"Could both of you explain? I barely understand what's going on. I don't have time for secrets and omissions right now."
The two sensums looked at each other and, seemingly after a silent agreement, decided that it was Oliver, the office owner, who should respond:
"Enlightenments, of course, sometimes occur based on trivial matters or those events that may seem insignificant to us, but..." Oliver de Sancy raised a finger as if delivering a lecture, "they never occur without reason."
"So?" I was struggling to follow him.
"What just happened," Zanh Kiem interjected, effectively taking the baton from the cardinal, "clearly indicates that the World has taken notice of our intentions."
"This implies," the prelate continued, "that your decision to establish a new Treaty, rather than breaking or extending the old one, is potentially viable."
"But!" Zanh Kiem interjected again, "The presence of an Enlightenment doesn't guarantee success."
"It doesn't," Oliver de Sancy agreed, nodding at his words, "it merely confirms the possibility."
"In short," the Abbot of the Abode of Knowledge turned fully towards me, "your assumptions were accurate. The possibility of signing a new Treaty exists. Whether it will materialize or not, however, depends on us. Or rather, on you."
"But why are these three flights arriving in Wilflaes tomorrow so vital?" I couldn't help but ask what had been plaguing my thoughts.
I posed the question and observed as two Makers simultaneously shrugged and spread their arms.