Chapter Thirty-Two: Hope

Xius furrowed his brow, lost in thought. The information he possessed was sparse; during his brief encounter with Brother Kesque, he had only managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of a few constituent elements.

Out of curiosity, he had carefully memorized those few "inscriptions" that comprised Brother Kesque. The inscriptions he had just sensed on the wall of the confession booth seemed to possess subtle differences. Although Xius had no formal training in such matters, he had spent his previous life studying countless engineering blueprints and was long accustomed to visualizing the three-dimensional assembly of parts in his mind. At a glance, he felt that something was amiss.

The two sets of inscriptions were fundamentally identical in their core structure, yet they were diametrically opposed in their minute details. Perhaps it was a matter of function; after all, one was a fixed architectural feature, while the other was a mechanically constructed human body.

Wait.

A thought occurred to Xius. Brother Kesque was indistinguishable from a human, possessing the natural warmth of flesh and blood during their handshake, whereas the Candlelight Society priest who had killed him in a previous life had been riddled with exaggerated, protruding mechanical parts.

"My lord? Lord Xius?" Chloe’s voice drifted over, tinged with wariness.

Xius offered a smile and apologized softly to Sister Chloe at the other end of the confession booth, assuring her that his actions were born solely of curiosity. After some reassurance, Chloe accepted his explanation with lingering skepticism—after all, he had donated money, and she could hardly drive him away over such a minor indiscretion. Moreover, Xius’s apology sounded very sincere, and Chloe soon dispelled her lingering dissatisfaction.

"Then please, speak. I am here to listen to your... troubles."

Xius collected his thoughts. He realized that the discovery of the Candlelight Society’s hidden supernatural power was merely a pleasant surprise; he had come here with many questions in mind.

"I have some troubles, and there are things I would like Sister Chloe to help me understand..."

He began, choosing his words carefully.

***

When they emerged from the church, the sun was already nearing the horizon. Xius and Connor rode their horses toward the manor. In this era, there were no streetlights, and traveling after dark was a hazardous affair. Fortunately, they were not far from the estate and would arrive before the sun set.

It was not so convenient for the island's fishermen to return home. As Xius looked at the uneven, potholed road, he realized that if he wanted to open a night school in the future, he would have to solve the problem of lighting; without it, all activities would be confined to the daylight hours.

He made a mental note of this, his peripheral vision catching Connor’s slightly worried expression. Xius understood why his old butler was concerned—the discord between the Royal Family and the Church was an open secret. As a retainer to the Empress, he should not be getting too close to the Church.

In truth, he had no intention of becoming too intimate with them. The Church did possess some supernatural power, but the risks of engaging with them were simply too high. However, his definition of "risk" differed from most; Xius did not particularly care about the danger to his life, as he could not truly die, and these physical vessels were, in a sense, a limitation to him.

But the Church’s methods did not seem limited to brute force. Xius harbored a faint concern regarding their potential for psychological control—the Church boasted a considerable number of fanatics, and he was unsure if they were truly that devout by nature or if the Church had employed some method to ensure it. Based on his experience in the confession booth, the Candlelight Society had certainly incorporated clever designs into its construction. He had no desire to gamble on whether they applied similar ingenuity to manipulating the human mind.

"Don't worry, old Connor. I have no intention of having much contact with the Church," Xius said. "I only needed to understand what role they could play—you know, one never knows when their medical services might be required."

Healing, including the treatment of injuries and diseases, was one of the Church's primary responsibilities and a means of accumulating wealth. Unlike the horrific medical practices of the Middle Ages in his previous world, the Church in this realm truly possessed some genuine ability, as Xius had just personally confirmed.

He had chatted with Chloe about bloodletting and the theory of the four humors from his past life, only to hear her respond with a look of utter bewilderment, eventually advising him not to look into such "superstitions." The treatments Chloe described already bore the embryonic form of modern medicine. While she lacked the concept of bacteria, she understood the importance of disinfection and anesthesia—and one should not underestimate that; with those concepts, at least, they avoided surgeries with a 300% mortality rate. Even if the methods of implementation were distinctly ecclesiastical.

According to Chloe, the Church possessed a "Holy Water" that, when used to irrigate wounds, prevented suppuration and infection. The needles and blades used for suturing were also rinsed in it, and the burning of a specific incense accompanied by prayers could render a patient briefly unconscious, rendering them insensible to pain.

Xius was almost certain that supernatural power was at play, as the preparation process for the Holy Water that Chloe described had nothing to do with disinfection, yet it was undeniably effective at eliminating bacteria.

Sighing, he wondered why this world chose to conceal the existence of supernatural power, despite its potential to benefit so many ordinary people.

Castel Island was blessed with favorable conditions; between the fish in the sea and the sweet fruits in the woods, it was rare for anyone to starve. Yet, during his previous descents, Xius had witnessed many people starving to death across the Empire. Even in the capital, Rhine, vast slums stretched out, and for the workers in the factories, an average lifespan of less than thirty years was considered a job to be envied.

This world was, in all likelihood, sick.

Xius’s gaze dimmed. He was not a natural saint. With the ability to descend into various vessels, his initial thoughts had been merely to wander the world and display his power before men. But with each successive descent, he saw only souls suffering in agony, poor wretches falling by the wayside, filled with hope and resentment. Gradually, his original intentions faded.

His heart, too, was made of flesh and blood; he possessed emotions. Since he held the knowledge to change the world in his mind, and since he had countless vessels and did not fear death, why not try to do something?

The more he descended, the more resolute he became. He would let the torrent of industry sweep across this world; he would let the blood of the insatiably greedy nobles stain their gold coins; he would let the executioners who ignited the flames of war fall beneath the guillotine; and he would ensure there was bread on the plates of the impoverished and distressed.

Industry would bring many new problems and fresh suffering, but it was progress, and progress was better than stagnating in place. No system could solve all problems once and for all—not even Xius could do that—but he could bring hope to the people.

As long as there was hope, it would suffice. Humanity was a magnificent species; as long as there was hope, they would have the courage to move forward.