Chapter 1094: Chapter 1033: Ogre Empire
The theologians and monks who were previously muffled by the guards suddenly stopped struggling.
The other bishops, who initially looked worried, now had their wrinkles melt away like butter.
Indeed, if "Saint Rania’s Life" were truly fake, why didn’t the Holy Father send down a revelation to correct it?
Remember, the Holy Father, Saint Master, and Holy Tree are a trinity, omniscient and omnipotent.
Since the Holy Father has no objections, it means "Saint Rania’s Life" is true, even if Horn points out a thousand errors!
Because it is certified by the Holy Father!
"It’s bad." Livingston, who initially regretted his rash words, now felt a sense of relief.
This Great Duke meeting was far more intense than he had imagined.
If he were to deal with this issue, he might not be able to handle it.
Swenson’s expression followed suit, growing tense: "We were too shocked earlier and forgot all about this."
"Indeed." Livingston looked around and lowered his voice, "His Majesty Horn made a bad move here."
In the Miseria sect, where the church can truly use Divine Art, the so-called "revelation" brought by supernatural powers is the greatest theoretical endorsement.
You say everyone can be a priest, I say only Extraordinary Knights can bear blessings, and only monks can use them.
You ask why the "Gospels" mention Holy Seat City, and that’s because the Saint Master prophesied it at the time, right?
Although Horn was well aware they would use divine debate techniques against him, when faced with it, he almost laughed in anger.
The essence of the church is really like summoning gods.
If anything goes wrong, immediately summon the divinity to suppress any dissenting voices, and the most egregious inconsistencies can only be ignored or adapted to.
Then the church is invincible, a logical closed loop.
Why is the doctrine correct? Because it was spoken by the gods.
Why are the gods right? Because the doctrine says so.
Even if there was bloody evidence laid before them, they would swallow feces like chocolate.
Why? Because the gods said so!
Horn held onto the lectern, his gaze swept over the faces, those monks seemed as though they’d returned from hell, drenched in sweat.
Looking at Horn and Rang Buluo with expressions as if staring at their father’s enemies, because they two revealed the truth.
As for those monks of the Holy Sect, they had long fallen into a state of confusion.
At this moment, they found the Holy Sect’s biggest problem.
If one can communicate directly with God, then why bother observing and practicing natural order to prove understanding God?
The foundation of the Divine Essence Sect is solid again, whereas the new building of the Holy Sect is on the verge of collapse.
This Great Duke meeting seems to have had the opposite effect.
When Horn’s gaze swept over Xie Li and Quivarin, Xie Li’s worried and helpless expression, Quivarin’s calm and playful look, all etched into his mind.
Taking a deep breath, Horn slightly closed his eyes, but did not speak, instead he was brewing his thoughts.
"Lord Gallar, why are you silent with closed eyes when facing my question? Do you not want to face it?" Grandiva chuckled.
Whether indoors or out, everything quieted down, no one spoke, even breathing sounds were subdued.
The thousand people present were fixated on Horn.
As for the two thousand outside, they pressed their ears against the door or walls, trying to catch some leaked sound.
"I can answer this question, but before that, may I tell a small story?"
"Considering your level, you certainly may tell a story." Grandiva immediately mimicked Horn’s sarcasm and threw it back.
Documents can be disproved, but can revelations be disproved?
Unless you, Horn, can fly your soul outside and ask the Holy Father holding the revelation?
The priest is the cleric, the world is unknowable, and mortals should seek purity in the afterlife through faith and good deeds.
This forms the worldview of the Divine Essence Sect, a triad unbreakable.
Everyone is a cleric, the world is knowable, and mortals should seek happiness in this life through their labor’s innate holy duties.
This is the worldview of the Holy Sect, also interconnected, and if one is pierced, the other two will crumble without attack.
You, Horn, cannot resist the authority of the Holy Father, because you are the Saint’s Grandson and carry the name of the Holy Father.
What story can you tell?
Horn left the lectern, walking step by step down the stairs, but his voice was clear.
"Among the thirteen vampire clans, one is especially adept at illusion techniques, and once, an ogre tribe angered them.
They decided to punish this group of ogres, but after slaughtering all the adult ogres, one vampire said, ’Want to have some fun?’"
Horn’s voice, unhurried, though speaking a senseless story, still captured everyone’s attention.
"Vampires didn’t kill all the ogres, leaving only the newborn ogre babies.
This group of vampires are masters of illusion, creating an illusionary realm to the best of their abilities.
Their illusion techniques are terrifyingly strong, even constructing a world that appears completely real.
The sky is blue, the earth is green, the wind carries a sense of touch when it blows, food has taste when eaten..."
"Absurd..."
"Hush! Shut up!"
The murmurs of discussion came and went, yet they did not affect Horn’s storytelling at all.
"Arms, eyes, skin, nose... all of it is fabricated, because in this dream, these ogre infants are all human.
Even though humans might see this illusion as fake, the ogres are intellectually deficient and can’t distinguish it.
These vampires even fabricated a nation equivalent to the empire, placing these infants within it.
Thus these ogres formed a strange tribe..."
Cambiett Archbishop’s brows furrowed, though he did not understand what Horn was saying.
But an inexplicable sense of pain kept tingling his temples and back, as if something tremendous was about to occur.
"They are ogres, yet they worship a false Miseria, with teachings completely contrary to the true doctrine.
They see bones as longswords and human flesh as venison.
Some proclaim themselves as the King of France, others as the King of Alay; they even wage wars among themselves.
When they think they have returned victorious and wear the crown, it’s merely a pot placed on their heads..."
Touching his Paul-style Mediterranean monk head, Matisse lowered his voice and asked Livingston, "Priest Livingston, could this be talking about us?"
Livingston, however, did not reply; he sat rigidly as if paralyzed in his seat.
His eyes were wide open, staring straight at Horn who continued to walk at a leisurely pace.
Could it really be as he thought? That would be terrifying...
Livingston wasn’t the only one — many others who faintly realized it were frozen in their places, silently praying that their guesses weren’t correct.
"This group of vampires delight in mocking these ogres, not only writing false scriptures and bestowing them, but also pretending to be angels, occasionally descending to issue divine decrees.
Only once, did an ogre claiming to be Pope discover a clue.
Because when his greatest city was overtaken and bloodshed by foreign heretics, the gods remained indifferent.
In despair, he chose to end his life, not seeking reincarnation, fearing that being killed by others wouldn’t be true death, but merely erasure of memory..."
"Enough!" This time, surprisingly, it was Quivarin who abruptly stopped Horn.
The elderly man was drenched in sweat, even moistening the hair along his temples.
Usually serene, Quivarin was utterly unable to maintain his composure at this moment.
Previously, when Horn was digging into the foundation of the church, Quivarin still took pleasure in it.
Now, this was about to dig into the very roots of Miseria’s teachings!
Cambiett even rarely stood up, his hands trembling slightly, gripping the railing.
Grandiva, who had been laughing earlier, now couldn’t laugh at all.
"It’s just a story, why be so tense?" Horn leisurely began, "I’m merely curious, when vampire illusions are already so frightening, what about the devil, the master of vampires?"
"Thump!"
The monks who had just awakened, along with more older monks, fainted from the shock.
What Horn spoke about was Descartes’ devil parable, similar to the brain in a vat.
But the difference lies in that Descartes truly had no devil, nor supernatural forces.
To them, it is albeit chilling but only a curious little experiment.
However, in the empire, supernatural forces can be recognized by human eyes and are foundational to belief.
The impact of this thought experiment on recipients is imaginable.
Descartes truly did not see devils, but Imperial people truly saw angels and vampires.
Most importantly, this event surprisingly could find its counterpart in history.
Wasn’t Pope Joan a witch who ascended to be Pope?
As the extraordinary revelation that forms the church’s foundation, it is subtly becoming unstable.
"No, stop talking." Suddenly a monk pleaded, they had gradually started to react.
If they knew beforehand that you would talk about this, wouldn’t admitting "Saint Rania’s Life" was false have sufficed?
Yet Horn would not show mercy, he plainly stated:
"How are you sure the revelation comes from the Holy Father? How are you sure your extraordinary is not from the devil?"
"When everything could possibly be an illusion, everything could possibly be false, how do you ascertain you are real? The revelation is real? The Holy Father is real?"
