Eternally Regressing Knight-Chapter 583 - This is a Truly Madman

Chapter 583 - This is a Truly Madman

The Church of Abundance revered seven martyrs, passing down their names through generations.

Among them was one who oversaw the cult's trade in wine, jams, and potions:

Apostle Mül.

His name came from a martyr who, in an act of self-sacrifice, cut flesh from his own legs to feed the starving before succumbing to starvation himself.

Mül, now a portly figure, stroked his ample belly—a habit born from the discomfort he felt whenever something displeased him.

His substantial girth seemed at odds with the name of a martyr who had perished emaciated, but did it truly matter?

No, not at all.

Carrying on the martyr's spirit was what counted, regardless of physique.

That was what Mül often said.

What the original martyr might think of him was another matter, but Mül saw himself as a man of integrity.

A man now deeply frowning in irritation.

Someone had dared to attack a monastery under the church's jurisdiction.

"This is a madman," he muttered.

It was an honest opinion.

To Mül, only a lunatic would commit such an act.

The statement came in a reception room, its long table and eight sturdy chairs a space for both dining and meetings.

Present were Mül and three priests in somber robes, standing in a row to his left with hands clasped respectfully.

The foremost among them spoke with utmost deference.

"Abbott Noah has declared that they have found their own path and intend to leave the church to pursue their studies independently."

In the Church of Abundance, "sects" referred to ideological factions interpreting the scriptures differently.

Historically, the "church" was considered a subset of these sects, but in modern terms, it encompassed all followers of the deity.

The factions, however, reflected splinters born of diverging scripture interpretations—or, more cynically, differing power bases.

Though masked by piety, the truth was clear: these divisions were fueled by the pursuit of influence, not belief.

Mül knew this well.

The cult comprised three major sects

the traditionalists preserving old teachings,

the innovators advocating for progress,

and the centrists striving for balance.

Sects outside these were often scorned as irrelevant chaff.

For an obscure abbey under Abbott Noah's leadership to declare autonomy?

It was preposterous.

Who did they think had supported them all this time?

"Cut off all aid to that monastery. If they change their minds, have the abbot bring us his own leg flesh as an offering."

It was a punishment befitting their arrogance.

"Understood," replied the priest.

But this wasn't the end.

Recently, there had been another affront to the church—an act so bold it was nearly laughable.

The "Unyielding Knight"? The "Madmen Knights"? Ridiculous.

Mül was incensed by their opposition.

If they thought defying the cult would go unpunished, they were sorely mistaken.

"Was it Border Guard?" he asked, his voice steady as his anger simmered beneath.

"Cease all trade with them and withdraw our personnel from their defense."

Mül's hand left his belly.

His irritation hadn't completely dissipated, but this action would serve as a clear warning.

He ordered all priests stationed in Naurilia, tasked with suppressing heretical movements, to return immediately.

It was an open invitation for heretics to wreak havoc.

If the church's presence was withdrawn, the chaos could be monumental—proof of the church's essential role.

Would they still deny their mistakes then?

Mül thought not.

He didn't stop at mere withdrawal orders.

A stern letter of protest was to be sent, warning of the church's unrelenting resolve.

Let them recognize the magnitude of their error.

"Write to the king as well," Mül concluded, his mind racing ahead.

The King of Naurilia would have to make significant concessions to the Holy Kingdom because of this.

All of this had transpired while Enkrid was en route back to Border Guard.

"This is driving me insane," muttered Krais.

Enkrid offered no excuse.

He didn't need to.

The situation could have been worse if not for the monastery's deliberate declaration of independence.

Without that, the cult might have acted even more aggressively.

But even now, their response was anything but restrained.

Their message was clear:

Why are you interfering in our affairs?

This level of reaction was uncharacteristically mild for the church, known for its blunt use of force.

That they hadn't resorted to outright violence spoke to their caution.

After all, this was no ordinary opposition.

This was Enkrid and the Madmen Knights—an unstoppable force at the heart of Border Guard's military might.

Any clumsy show of strength could backfire spectacularly.

While some still underestimated Enkrid's capabilities, those attuned to the continent's shifting power dynamics no longer doubted him.

Even the cunning strategist Abnaier acknowledged this harsh truth:

Who would dare to openly disrupt a sacred ceremony?

They're truly mad.

The Kingdom of Aspen wasn't weak enough to be coerced by the church.

Its military might might not rival the entire Holy Kingdom's, but it was more than capable of negating their influence.

Still, Aspen had refrained from direct opposition—why?

Because rejecting the church invited severe repercussions.

Trade disruptions would be the first blow.

Wine, soap, and jam—goods primarily produced by monasteries—formed the backbone of this trade.

While private merchants had started producing some of these goods, monasteries still controlled the majority.

Losing access to these supplies would be just the beginning.

The real threat lay in the diplomatic fallout.

Nations allied with the Holy Kingdom would sever ties, and larger southern powers would eagerly side with the church.

Aspen would face boycotts and obstructions at every turn.

Challenging the cult was like provoking ghouls—mindless creatures that attacked indiscriminately, whether their target was human, Frog, or giant.

'There's already a mountain of urgent matters to resolve, and this is outright foolishness.'

Instead of solving problems, this only created more.

Immediate issues?

Abnaier understood the significance of the Apostle of Abundance, who influenced the continent, and could even predict their actions.

Back when Aspen was thriving, hadn't he considered countless times what might happen if the rotten priests were rooted out entirely?

Pressure through trade routes.

The trade routes controlled by the church were utilized by countless merchants.

That would be the starting point.

One of the greatest strengths of the church was its monasteries.

Though not cities, these monasteries independently defended against beasts and magical creatures.

Merchants often used them as intermediate bases.

Even if one overlooked that, what would follow?

Of all the looming issues, the most significant one stood out.

'The Paladins would be withdrawn.'

The Paladins, tasked with suppressing heretics, operated under the church's directives.

This applied both to the Order of Righteous Justice and the Heretic Extermination Order.

These two Paladin orders traversed borders, relentlessly pursuing and killing heretics.

They were known across the continent as unparalleled hunters and assassins of heretics, striking fear into their enemies.

Although their numbers were not vast, each member dedicated their life to eradicating heretics.

If they ceased their work?

The balance of power would crumble.

It was because of the Paladin Order's vigilance that heretics couldn't act with impunity.

While heretics couldn't be completely eradicated, the tenuous balance ensured they couldn't run rampant.

This balance was one of the church's key achievements since the Mad Cult of the Demon Wastelands successfully summoned the Salamander long ago.

Even when Naurilia had appeared as a tempting fruit to surrounding nations, heretics had been active within the kingdom.

This was possible because the church redirected the Paladins's attention elsewhere.

Now, the church would do everything in its power to pull the Paladins out of the kingdom, leaving the heretics to flourish like fish in water.

"That girl is the Saint?"

"Hello, I'm Seiki."

When Krais saw the child Enkrid had brought, he asked incredulously.

Seiki answered cheerfully despite her haggard appearance—dark circles under her eyes, an air of exhaustion, and trembling legs.

Her voice, however, remained bright.

'And they brought the Saint here?'

Abnaier, uncharacteristically, nearly slapped his forehead in disbelief.

Why had they brought her?

Rescuing the Saint was a problem, attacking the monastery was another, yet they had gone so far as to bring the child at the center of it all.

The Cult of Abundance's main focus was the potion trade.

And they had calmly taken away its key resource?

'Madman.'

The epithet fit perfectly.

Abnaier now fully grasped its meaning.

Yet, despite the absurdity, Abnaier felt something other than shock.

Though it was nonsensical, infuriating, and foolish, there was a certain thrill in it.

"Hey. I need a new suit of armor, something easier to move in. Find someone good at making that kind of thing. Aetri keeps calling himself a weapons expert, but even blacksmiths have specialties, right? And since he doesn't want to deal with it, let's find someone else. We're keeping Aetri's forge stocked with everything he needs, right?"

As Enkrid casually listed his needs, Krais responded immediately.

"Oh, you're killing me. Should I nag the old man about not taking on more work? And is armor something you just replace every time you come back from a fight? The commander has a habit of replacing gear after every battle."

"Do I?"

"The church... what on earth is your plan? They've already sent a letter demanding the Saint's return, and it arrived before you did."

"Ignore it."

"Understood."

"Any problems with that?"

Problems?

Plenty, thought Abnaier.

But Krais's response was nonchalant, his demeanor calm and composed.

"There are many. We're calling a meeting. Please attend this time."

"All right."

Enkrid nodded, and Krais sighed again.

There was no sense of urgency or life-threatening gravity in their conversation.

Was it because the danger wasn't immediate?

Impossible.

Krais was a genius, unmatched in his strategic thinking.

He wasn't someone who lacked a sense of reality.

If anything, Krais was far more attuned to looming threats than Abnaier himself.

Was that why?

Abnaier didn't know.

But something about the exchange sent shivers down his spine.

His skin prickled, and his body's hairs stood on end.

The church's corruption?

True enough—everyone knew about it.

Rotten priests abusing their divine authority?

Rarely did anyone remain unaware of their existence.

Even common farmers recoiled at the mere mention of the church or heretics.

Yet no one acted against them.

Thinking about it was one thing

Taking action was another.

It brought no personal benefit.

But that man considered it natural, doing what must be done.

Without hesitation, he stepped forward, acting as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

To Abnaier, that was electrifying.

A sensation like exhilaration coursed through him, leaving him unable to suppress a grin.

"Ha, hahaha."

In the past, back in Aspen, how often had he wanted to disrupt the church's grand ceremonies?

He had dreamed of causing utter chaos, yet even he hadn't imagined something like this.

Kidnapping the Saint and attacking a monastery?

Though he didn't know the full details, watching Enkrid act with total disregard for the church's authority brought him endless amusement.

Hearing Abnaier's laughter, Enkrid glanced at him, then whispered something to Krais.

Whatever it was, Abnaier couldn't hear it.

All he could understand was why the word "hero" suited this man so perfectly.

What was impossible for others was natural for him.

What others only dared to imagine, he executed.

And for those who followed him, such extraordinary feats had become the norm.

"Let's talk for a moment," Krais said, approaching Abnaier.

Abnaier stopped laughing and nodded, ready to hear anything.

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