Chapter 29: The Empire and the Church

Ashe was even deliberately avoiding actions that might result in injury, fearing that if she were severely wounded, she would drain Hughes’s vitality dry through their contract.

Observing her expression, Hughes guessed the truth. After a moment of thought, he asked, "You said the contract is absolutely equal. Does that mean if I am injured, you can also draw vitality from me?"

Ashe nodded. The symbiosis contract was actually best suited for two warriors fighting side-by-side on the battlefield; regardless of who was wounded, the other could instantly provide a vast amount of life force. This effectively gave each person two lives, vastly increasing their margin for error. Banshees were natural-born warriors, and it was through this very capability that they had once conquered the four corners of the Abyss.

It was a pity that the Abyss had been destroyed; the few remaining entrances were now riddled with corruption, and the races that had once lived in symbiosis with the banshees had vanished into the unknown. The splendor of the past was now nothing more than a melody in old songs.

Ashe drifted into a trance, failing to notice the shifting gaze of Hughes, who seemed to have hit upon an idea.

"Ashe, go to the depths of the Abyss and check on the state of your people. If the situation is dire, you may bring them up. I recall that they can safely leave the deep sea for short periods, correct?"

Ashe nodded. Although the symbiosis contract prevented her from straying too far from Hughes, the rift leading to the floor of the Abyss was not far from Castell Island. She was confident she could return before her vitality waned significantly.

Hughes watched as Ashe slowly submerged into the sea, then followed the tunnel back to the manor. He had an idea, but it required some verification.

As he walked back to his study, Hughes carefully inspected the room's layout, confirming that no one had moved anything before approaching the door. As he pulled the door open, he instinctively felt that something was wrong. The sensory perception granted by the symbiosis contract subtly alerted him to an presence on the other side.

It was a body of flesh and blood, tipping toward him... he had to dodge!

However, he had already pulled the door open. While his mind reacted, his body could not keep up; he could only watch helplessly as a figure, pressed against the back of the door, collapsed toward him.

"Zoe?"

Hughes’s eyes were cold as he looked at the maid sprawled on the floor. At the very last moment, he had managed to sidestep her.

Stepping back, Hughes looked her up and down, confirming she held no weapons, before questioning, "Why are you here?"

Zoe, dizzy from the fall, clutched her nose, which had turned red from the impact. When she looked up, her eyes were filled with tears. "I—I was bringing you afternoon tea..."

Only then did Hughes notice she was still holding a tray. Even though she had fallen completely to the ground, the porcelain and refreshments on the tray remained undisturbed. She managed to keep the tray steady even while falling? That was certainly dedicated.

"I knocked for a long time without a response, so I grew worried and wanted to see if there was any movement inside... I am so sorry!"

Hughes recalled that Zoe had indeed been the one to deliver afternoon tea; there was nothing unusual about that. Since his arrival, he had been dealing with various chaotic matters and had long since forgotten about any refreshments.

He softened his tone. "There is no need to bring tea in the future. I tend to be quite... focused when I work in my study, so it is normal that I wouldn't hear anything outside. Tell Connor not to disturb me while I am working."

Zoe looked up, startled, only then realizing her current posture was impolite. She hurriedly stood up, smoothed her long dress, placed the refreshments on the table, and retreated from the room.

*This cannot go on for much longer,* Hughes thought to himself. His prolonged absence from the study made him too easy to expose, yet he had no immediate solution. He did not know which of the servants or house staff could be trusted.

Moreover, the Banshee race—both in name and appearance—tended to evoke negative associations. He came from Earth and held no such superstitions, but the people of this world might not be so accepting.

Speaking of the human attitude toward other races, that was precisely the purpose of his excursion. He intended to visit the Church to gauge their stance. Generally, if the Church could accept other races, convincing his subjects would only be a matter of time.

He just didn't know what the Church’s attitude would be. Honestly, Hughes was pessimistic; after all, the last time he had descended into this world, he had been killed by members of the Church.

At the thought, he gritted his teeth in resentment. The Candlelight Society, was it? He would certainly have his revenge.

Hughes sighed. The Candlelight Society was the state religion of the Empire; there were no other sects to be found within its borders. He had no way to seek out a more moderate church even if he wanted to.

However, it was rumored that the rift between the Empress and the Church was widening. It was hard to say what the future would hold. In any case, he had to go and find out.

"Zoe!" The maid, who had just exited, poked her head back in upon hearing him.

"Have Connor prepare the horses. I am going to the cathedral."

"Understood." Her expression was complex as she turned and hurried down the corridor.

Hughes turned back to the bookshelf, intending to find a few ecclesiastical texts to browse—the original owner of this body had known almost nothing about the Church.

After a brief review, Hughes set off for the cathedral with Connor the butler. Connor did not know much about the doctrine either, but he understood the Church’s stance on secular affairs.

"Generally speaking, the Church does not participate in any affairs of the fiefdom," he recalled, speaking to Hughes. "Master Hughes, what brings them to your mind?"

"Castell has a Candlelight Society cathedral, after all. Since that is the case, it is better to understand them early," Hughes said vaguely.

Typically, the Church would be the most radical regarding matters of other races; he had best be prepared.

"I hear that the Church no longer holds seats in the Imperial trial deliberations," Connor said carefully. He felt it was his duty to remind his lord of the Empress’s attitude toward the Church. After all, his lord was nominally a vassal of the Empress, and such matters were necessary to know.

Trial deliberations? Hughes knew this was a venue similar to a court. The secretariat under the Imperial Parliament would vote on the sentences criminals were to endure. While this was based on the Imperial Sacred Charter, a seat nonetheless implied significant influence.

Before the Empress ascended the throne, these deliberations were controlled jointly by the nobility and the Church. Now, the Church had been ousted, and the influence of the nobility was gradually waning.

Centralization—a sign of an Empire on the rise, Hughes mused silently.

"And how has the Church reacted?"

"That is the strange part," Connor paused. "The Church has offered only nominal protests, but in reality, they have taken almost no action."

Hughes frowned.