Chapter 132. Sprout (1)
The location for the victory ceremony was not Callum Castle but Loborre Castle.
Callum Castle hadn’t secured safety to the extent that civilians could freely come and go.
Like other bases, the time when civilians would frequent and form shopping areas would come later.
Precisely speaking, that would be after the Order of Temoria secured Callum Castle’s safety.
“It was said that erecting the Canopy would take about a month.”
Setting up a Divine Canopy, capable of blocking and enduring all threats and hardships of the world.
It was the authority held by Temoria, known for Patience.
The additional Trait Yang Taeho received upon awakening with the Silver rank was a downgraded version of that authority.
“Because of that Canopy, there won’t be any Messeo formed in areas where the Demi-humans reside.”
At a glance, it seemed to play a role similar to barriers or shields, yet distinct differences existed from magic.
“The Canopy endures as long as its bearer does not give up.”
This meant the Canopy could be maintained for days, months, or even years.
If those who set up the Canopy could patiently endure, theoretically, it wasn’t impossible.
“In theory perhaps, but not in reality.”
In practicality, it was impossible.
No matter how skilled they were, even they couldn’t withstand adversities indefinitely.
“When the bearer of the Canopy falls asleep, the Canopy disappears.”
That meant the Divine Canopy was being continuously maintained by the alternating efforts of the priests of Temoria.
Considering that they must perform rituals to receive the blessing, it implied enormous resources were being consumed just for that.
Of course, the fact that the Order of Temoria established a safe area remained unchanged despite the consumption.
As a result, the influence of Temoria was soaring tremendously.
The most proud among the Seven Great Orders.
‘Pretty much regarded as guardian gods.’
Accordingly, the pride of their followers was unusually strong.
But today, irrespective of which god one believed in, everyone was excited.
After all, the news of reclamation came, calming things down for two years after Viceta.
“Praise the Order’s army!”
“May the god watch over us!”
“There’s an Outsider there! Wow!”
“Cheers to the heroes!”
Loborre Castle was teeming with Demi-humans who had gathered to witness the victory ceremony.
I wondered where this vast crowd had emerged from, so many they were.
Was their excitement mixed into the air itself?
Everything touching me felt warm as I watched from the assigned waiting seats, divided by affiliations.
The anticipation of the gathered crowd was palpable that day.
In response to their expectations, the victory ceremony was splendid.
Throughout the event, petals scattered, and the rewards for those who achieved merit were generous.
“Indeed a wartime situation.”
Performance, morale, public support, all had to be considered, making extravagance inevitable.
In my mind, I understood the situation a hundred times over.
Yet, perhaps because I had been running around just the previous day to establish an orphanage?
The petals falling from the sky, the complimentary food celebrating victory, the gold coins as rewards.
Each element filling the ceremony’s splendor caught my eye.
‘If only these ceremonial acts could be reduced, funds would be available for other uses.’
Thousands of war refugees could be easily aided.
But spending money like that wouldn’t show publicly.
The need to communicate that we were in a war, actively striving to win.
Surely, events like departure ceremonies or victory celebrations couldn’t be skipped.
Knowing this, why did it still not sit well with me?
‘Let’s not dive too deep.’
It wasn’t a problem I could solve simply because it caught my attention and weighed on my mind.
‘We even built an orphanage.’
There are plenty who don’t even go that far, so this should suffice.
Being an Outsider, I’ve done all I could.
I kept repeating this to myself, shaking off extraneous thoughts.
Meanwhile, the ceremony continued and moved to celebrating the merits of the players.
“In honor of the glorious achievements of today, let us not forget our comrades who worked hard together.”
On the platform, the gaze was directed toward the players’ seating — Carmant Ephenel.
Commander-in-chief of the 1st army headquarters, responsible for the central division within the Order’s army.
“The Marquis of Heilas, where Loborre is located, and apostle of Finelpenia.”
His voice, amplified with magic, filled the vast courtyard of Loborre Castle.
He continued, scanning through players divided by their respective affiliations.
“Those called by Temoria, please rise.”
The first mention naturally went to Temoria, known for its formidable presence.
Players from Temoria went up the platform, receiving medals and rewards.
The attending players were already briefed through their respective orders about the ceremonial proceedings.
Knowing when to stand and how to proceed.
Along the way, I had learned that Palao would be last.
Thanks to that, I sat patiently, observing each player called up in turn.
“All in all, about 20 of them, including our party.”
Realistically, these are the distinguished talents from each order at present.
“In other words, the new faces of the orders.”
This occasion also served to introduce the players officially to the Biharin populace.
Each individual’s achievements and merits would bring up the name of the order they belonged to.
Seeing the simple structure ironically drew a smirk.
‘Despite over a decade of war, it’s still a mess of competition and mind games.’
Seeing through the upper echelons, within the strained circumstances of merely maintaining status quo, indulging in power struggles was evident.
It wasn’t solely the problem of those serving the gods. The structure was shaped by the Seven Gods themselves.
Honestly, the more I learned about them, the more dismaying they became.
I sat in the row of Palao, the least decorated order, curiously observing what seemed like a foolish spectacle.
By then, the prior sequence had concluded, and the players affiliated with Palao were called.
“And lastly, those called by Palao.”
This was the largest number among the seven orders.
Of the players at the victory ceremony, there were four from Palao.
Despite being the least recognized order, four players had made significant contributions worthy of this ceremony.
It was only natural.
Palao required players to be capable of Mana Condensation to become members.
To achieve condensation at that stage, one must be inherently talented in mana.
Since the order admitted those who could grow quickly, they could naturally deliver more results.
“A bit envious.”
The leaders of other orders attending the ceremony probably didn’t feel too happy about it.
Suppressing a smirk, I stood from my seat.
An unexpected incident occurred at that moment.
“Woooaaah!”
“K! K! K!”
“The hero of Palao!”
“The first Outsider!”
The audience’s cheers grew even more fervent.
The intensity of their cheering was enough to resonate through my body.
As if standing before massive speakers, the feeling was overwhelming.
A bit flustered by the sudden event, I stepped onto the platform as briefed earlier.
“Thank you!”
“Please save us!”
“Hurrah for the Outsiders!”
“Hurrah for Palao!”
I stood facing Marquis Ephenel with endless cheers behind me.
I had to consciously avoid Furrowing my brow during the process.
Partly because the cheers behind me were not entirely welcome.
But regardless of my preferences, the cheers continued.
“Outsider K.”
As soon as my inner tongue clicked, marquis Ephenel, who quietly watched over my shoulder, firstly addressed me.
Approximately mid-50s, he had meticulously groomed hair and a mustache.
Yet something even more striking stood out — his golden eyes, seeming impenetrably stern.
Both Rashar and Jordan had described him as a meticulous, self-disciplined individual.
Meeting him in person, their evaluation didn’t seem far off.
On the contrary, it felt understated.
As if the perfectly groomed eyebrows showed no slight mismatch.
‘Absolute symmetry is so perfect it creates a sense of discord.’
That was why the first impression I got of Marquis Ephenel wasn’t mere meticulousness.
‘Perfectionist to an obsessive degree.’
That’s the expression best describing Marquis Ephenel through my eyes.
Even his uniform was flawless without a single defect.
While I observed Marquis Ephenel, he, in turn, observed me.
This led to a brief pause unlike previous sequences.
Not enough to affect the proceedings, though.
“You’ve worked hard.”
Marquis Ephenel, who spoke not too late, extended his hand.
It was unmistakably an offer for a handshake.
Previously, brief words of appreciation were followed by medals and rewards, so why now?
That question lingered for only a moment before a smirk appeared on my face as I reached out to Marquis Ephenel.
His eyes flickered subtly.
Indeed, as our hands met, I sensed a foreign divinity.
“The authority of Finelpenia.”
It was a power I had experienced once before, allowing one to glimpse into past events.
But I was unfazed.
‘I’ve never done anything disgraceful.’
Even if I had committed wrongful acts, they were my decisions.
I was prepared to face any blame or criticism resulting from them.
Never had I wasted time heedlessly or done anything I’d be ashamed of.
Therefore, I stood confidently before the power reading my past.
“It only reads past events, not thoughts.”
If it were reading thoughts, I’d avoid it at any cost.
The rational thing was to accept if it only read past events from a short encounter.
“Otherwise, it’d seem like I was hiding something.”
Holding Marquis Ephenel’s hand without changing my expression, the brief handshake concluded.
“Indeed.”
The cheers, which had subsided momentarily, erupted again as he opened his mouth.
Spectators aware that Marquis Ephenel was an apostle of Finelpenia grew ecstatic.
The overwhelming cheers bordered on a physical beat on my back, leaving me no chance to contain my grimace.
For the ugly truth behind the ecstatic cheers was not delightful.
‘They avoid risking their own lives to improve the situation, yet cheer for those who’ll do it for them.’
These cheers resembled the demands of those seeking someone else to rely on.
That’s the characteristic of a crowd.
‘Sweet if they like it, discard if they don’t.’
For now, our actions, including mine, aligned with their tastes, hence the cheers.
But once disappointments mount or we fall from grace, they’d turn and start tearing us apart.
These fervent cheers weren’t directed at me but rather at their desires.
My evaluation of the masses was candid and cynical.
I glared at Marquis Ephenel with a grimaced expression.
He had certainly incited the spectators’ cheers earlier.
His voice, amplified by magic, was disseminating throughout the crowd-filled plaza.
Why single me out for actions and words he hadn’t spared for other players?
‘What’s the scheme?’
His expression revealed no answers.
Any noticeable change was that his expression appeared softer than before.
Pondering what on earth this was, my brows narrowed.
“If you had followed Finelpenia’s teachings, you’d have excelled, a pity.”
Marquis Ephenel’s continued words kindled the cheers further.
“Should you ever change your mind, come visit me anytime.”
By now, his voice, even amplified with magic, was nearly drowned.
At that moment, I realized why Marquis Ephenel spoke as he did.
Damned System