ALL NOVEL Chapter 26: Chapter 26: Ralph
"The resemblance is striking."
This was Miro's first thought, yet as he drew closer, the notion naturally dissipated like smoke.
They were fundamentally different beings. The silver hair of Miro's old friend had a more metallic sheen, while the one before him appeared softer—as if bathed in holy light.
That unmistakable sacred aura was more conspicuous to Miro than the pure white priestly robes. After all, his own forcibly elevated holy affinity had once earned him hundreds of recruitment attempts from the Chief of the Helrano Institute next door.
So frequent were these attempts that he could now theoretically pose as one of their faithful without raising suspicion.
Though both shared an outward indifference to the world, their cores were vastly different. While both knowledge and faith could lead to "purity of heart," how could one equate a craftsman's rational scrutiny of materials with a priest's compassionate watch over his flock?
Most importantly, the young priest before him was male.
"You've come," the priest observed calmly, his gaze gentle. The tall man with flowing silver hair possessed striking features, yet emanated an approachable air.
"Are you Priest Ralph?" Miro inquired, deliberately avoiding the other's question.
In truth, he remained puzzled by the inquiry, as they had no previous connection—this was their first meeting.
"It seems Miss Jessica has already spoken with you. However, sir, might you explain why she specifically cautioned me against conflict with you?" Though the words were confrontational, Ralph's delivery remained courteous and gentle.
"Perhaps just a precautionary measure?" Miro's tone was puzzled. After all, he didn't have much bad blood with the Ecclesia, did he?
"A precaution?" Ralph seemed skeptical. Given that their identities were known to each other, would Conspiracy's specific warning against violence really be just a precaution?
He had expected to meet a useful sinner, but the person before him appeared surprisingly pure from his perspective. If conflict wasn't going to originate from him, it must be from the other party.
"Do you have any grievances against the Ecclesia?" Ralph suddenly asked.
"Not really, as long as you don't try to convert me," Miro shook his head.
"It's fine even if you do have grievances—I've been excommunicated anyway," Ralph smiled gently.
"How did you manage that?" Miro turned in surprise. Even with the Ecclesia's internal struggles reaching nearly binary extremes, surely being an enemy's enemy would make you a friend—exile to chaotic territories shouldn't warrant excommunication.
"Nothing special really, I just refuted every doctrine I disagreed with," Ralph smiled warmly.
To put it somewhat indelicately, Ralph viewed the Orthodox faction as scripture-obsessed idiots and the Heretics—no, the Reform faction—as corrupt bastards. The Orthodox saw Ralph as an insincere scoundrel, while the Reformists viewed him as a self-righteous fool.
Thus, Ralph successfully managed to offend nearly every power holder in this environment of fierce competition where people would support anyone just to spite their opponents. His aggression rivaled that of a honey badger.
Yet Priest Ralph remained genuinely devout and principled without any wrongdoing. Even when both sides unusually set aside their differences to cooperate, they couldn't immediately find a suitable reason to expel him.
But the world never lacks for reasons, even for the Ecclesia, which needed to maintain appearances and follow rules for internal matters.
And so, after organizational discussion, this gifted young priest Ralph was awarded the glorious mission of infiltrating the chaotic territories. For security reasons, the Ecclesia headquarters painfully excommunicated this ideologically unique young genius and destroyed all evidence related to this mission.
Everything was proper and reasonable, and if Ralph wanted to return, he could legitimately deny it for the sake of the plan. After all, as the saying goes, if something looks like a rabbit, feels like a rabbit, and tastes like a rabbit, then it's a rabbit.
If truth is sealed and no one acknowledges it, then what appears is all that exists as fact.
While waiting for the bus, Ralph detailed the process of his expulsion, naturally weaving in numerous criticisms of the Ecclesia's factions with a gentle tone.
From their time boarding the bus until the end of their journey, Ralph continued to demonstrate his vast knowledge and superior linguistic skills.
This achievement wasn't solely due to the Ecclesia's deep-rooted problems and Ralph's own nature—Miro's instigation played an essential role. After being forcibly evangelized by Milton so many times, Miro's attitude toward the Ecclesia could only be described as schadenfreude. Now that someone was leading the charge, Miro certainly wouldn't hesitate to join in.
Fortunately, Ralph was now just a believer rather than a clergy member, and even publicly recognized as a heretic. He was naturally pleased to have someone join him in criticizing his former employer.
"We should part ways here—I assume your destination differs from mine," Ralph smiled, tilting his head as he disembarked first.
"I need to buy the latest pastries from Madame Corona's shop. You seem to have important business?" Miro maintained his slightly tired, squinting expression, his tone somewhat surprised as he turned to look at the silver-haired priest beside him.
"Yes, I need to collect some things from the central district," Ralph nodded.
"Then I wish you success in your endeavor," Miro pulled out a tourist map from around the station and began searching for his destination.
Ralph walked toward another exit while Miro, after confirming his location, boarded a different bus.
The new district far surpassed the old district in prosperity. Even here in the outskirts, the bus was more than half full, with soft waves of chatter rising and falling. Yet Miro found it somehow quieter than before.
Outside the window, bright warming sunlight shone as clouds drifted in clusters across the clear sky. Miro's surroundings were neat and clean, with ordinary people discussing their daily affairs—time as tranquil as a deep lake's surface.
Beneath that lake surface, currents surely stirred. Having left the station, Ralph had already used holy arts to hitch a ride in someone's private car.
The well-dressed middle-aged man in the driver's seat maintained a naturally respectful expression. "Where shall I take you, sir?"
"Central District, Colbo Museum Center," the silver-haired priest in the back seat replied calmly, pure energy condensing into the shape of a short sword in his palm.
End of Chapter