[Snippet] Making the Church Competent Through the Power of Faith!(Gacha): Chapter 18 (Patreon)

“We’re not mages who spend all day in their books studying spell structures and spell circles! ” Rafe bellowed. “We’re not shamans who commune with the earth and the elements and build a relationship with nature! We’re Paladins!”

Lucian was sitting cross-legged as he channeled Holy Power between his hands; sweat was dripping down his brow, and his face had already turned pale with panted breaths.

“Hold.” Rafe said sternly. “You’re not embracing a mother or a lover. The light can be gentle; it can be vengeful, but it responds to will. We do not ask the light; that’s a misconception that many have. We are not priests, lad. We treat it with proper respect, lad, but we command it. We demand its attention. We stand beneath its brilliance with straight backs and unbending conviction. And in turn, we accept its judgment."

Rafe stood in front of Lucian, slamming his fist against his own chest before lifting up his hammer. “What is this? Is it a weapon? Is it a holy instrument? This weapon is nothing. Yet, why do I treat it as important?” He picked up his hammer, the hammer he treated like his own arm, and he threw it across the room like it was discarded trash. “This hammer is nothing; this hammer is my conviction.”

In the same breath, the Light descended on him, wrapping around his hand, forming into a familiar shape as he slid his foot back and threw it.

A Hammer made of Holy Light.

It hit the wall, shaking the building and letting out a resounding ringing, like someone had rung a bell.

“The line that connects us with the Light. How could we possibly understand it? It’s vague, it’s encompassing, it’s alien, and it’s ethereal. We open our hearts, and our will is the bridge in which we call for aid.”

He held his hand out, and his discarded hammer was wrapped up in a holy light and flung back to his hand as if it had just been called.

“The Light doesn’t abandon you. It’s you who abandon the light.” He pressed a hand against his heart. “It’s when the hearts of men fail that the light no longer responds. When your convictions fall, when you no longer have faith in yourself, that’s when the light no longer responds.” 

The old man slammed his hammer into the ground. “If you can’t believe in yourself, what right do you have to ask the Light to believe in you?”

He stood there, watching Lucian silently.

“I said I would stay here for a few days to give you much-needed training, so I won’t pull my punches.” He nodded to himself, as if satisfied with Lucian’s current progress. “What is the Light? Many people ask that question; they’ve answered others, but at the end of the day, it’s a personal question.”

Rafe’s tone turned softer as he nudged Lucian’s slacking shoulder. “The Sun? It’s bright; it gives warmth and life. The Taurens worshipped it and were able to embrace the Light. The Night Elves, in the same way, worshipped the moon, Elune, and there are many priests among their number. Is it a belief in a cosmic force, a star, or even a deity? The answer is that they’re all right.” He finished with a grunt, and he pulled free the sword that Lucian had rolled for earlier.

The thin, light sword in his hand slashed through the air.

He wasn’t someone completely unfamiliar with swordsmanship even if he wielded a hammer as his favored weapon. His swings were sharp; they were precise, and they would be deadly if there was an enemy in front of him.

He held the sword aloft and closed his eyes.

In the next moment, the light answered, and the sword vibrated.

An angel with four wings sprang into existence, kneeling down in front of him.

“Hmm. Interesting.” He rubbed his chin. “I won’t have to worry about proper sparring partners for my recruits then.” He turned back towards Lucian. “A man’s beliefs are his own. As Paladins, we only judge the righteousness in their heart, not the source of their faith. If the Light answers, then there’s no need for any other words or nonsense.”

For the first time since he started talking, Lucian opened his mouth to speak, as strained as he was in the current situation. “So no problem handling religious beliefs foreign to yours?”

Rafe scoffed. “If you’ve seen one church, you’ve seen them all.” He dismissed it with a flippant wave of his hand. “I can play nice with the Church here; you don’t have to worry.”

Lucian didn’t have the free energy to respond to him fully and focused back on his training.

“I’ll be honest with ya, lad. I’m basically trying to repeat back what I remember from training. Half of it is what I remember; the other half is what I feel like sounds right.” 

Lucian snorted, and it made him lose his concentration; the holy light between his hands shuddered and exploded in his face, sending him sliding backwards on his ass several feet.

He looked up to see Rafe with a shit-eating grin on his face.

It didn’t take a genius to know that he said that intentionally to make Lucian lose focus.

“Ah, I’m going to enjoy training some recruits, I think. I get it now why my drill instructors were such arseholes.”

Lucian had thought that Rafe would want to explore and go live it up immediately. To take the money he was given, go out and enjoy himself after living as a ghost for so long.

Lucian himself would admit that in Rafe’s shoes, he would probably have gorged himself and maybe run around to find some companion for the night to fill whatever void was in his heart.

No, instead, Rafe said that he was going to spend three days giving Lucian an abridged lesson after hearing how many holes were in his knowledge.

Maybe it was a sense of pride that forced him to hold off on his own desires. To pay back a debt, even as small as the payment was, to the one who all but pulled him from his purgatory

Rafe casually walked to Lucian, who was limp on the ground after the explosion. “Our bodies are the catalysts. We channel the Light through ourselves. Do you know what that means, lad?”

“A strong body means stronger Light abilities?”

He grunted. “You’re right, but not all right. I’ve seen a young lass in a wheelchair, frail as a scarecrow. I saw her wave her hand and heal an entire village. It’s not just our bodies, but a strong body helps. A strong heart and a strong will. Each one can increase your ability in wielding the light. But you can’t train a strong heart or a strong will. That’s something you earn, something you gain through your own life. It’s never a guarantee that every recruit has that. But our bodies? Aye, that’s something we can train, something that every recruit walks away with. That’s why Paladins focus on physical training. It’s not the be-all and end-all of a strong paladin to have a strong body, but it certainly helps.”

Lucian sat back up, taking position again as he began the exercise once more.

Rafe used his hammer to adjust his posture, lowering his shoulders, raising his elbow, and finally pushing his hammer against Lucian’s back to sit up straighter.

“Learning how to channel the light is the other side of the coin. You were doing it roughly before. It’s gentle, lad; let it flow through your entire body. Learn to walk before your run. When you get more experienced, when you’re stronger, you can handle more, and that gentle stream slowly increases. It turns into a river, but it’s never uncontrolled.”

Lucian let out a breath and tried his best to listen to his advice, gently letting his holy power flow through him, gently expanding throughout his body. It was different than how he normally did this, as he quickly just did his best to fill his body with holy power before.

But as he silently felt the difference, he realized the mistakes he was making beforehand.

Perhaps it was something that more experienced exorcists come to understand naturally. But when you just try to flood yourself with holy power to make yourself strong too quickly, you miss bits and pieces here or there.

It may seem insignificant, but it adds up.

Certain muscles that aren’t enhanced. Certain parts of your bones that aren’t getting the same benefits.

He likened it somewhat to Reinforcement, from which the world, where he has gained a large portion of his assistance so far via his system.

Without the detriments, that is. But in the same vein, a slow and methodical encapsulating expansion of holy power through his body made it so that he was enhancing every part of himself properly.

Of course, with time and practice, this would become significantly quicker so that it could be done with but a thought. But previously, he was skipping the methodical aspect to instead focus purely on speed of enhancement.

It wasn’t a spell, just purely the most basic application of holy power for both paladins and exorcists across both worlds. Yet it also formed the basis for quite a few holy spells for paladins.

So getting it right was much more important than simply squeezing out all the benefits of a proper application.

It put into perspective how important a proper teacher was, rather than just relying purely on memories that weren't even his.

There were nuances, details, or otherwise habits and understanding he simply didn’t have before.

“How does it feel, Rafe asked?” Clearly noticing that Lucian was utilizing the proper application of enhancement.

“I feel a little bit stronger than normal.” Lucian admitted.

Rafe nodded. “That’s just what you were missing out on before. But that’s only a bit of water in the bucket you were missing out on. Don’t limit yourself into thinking that you can’t ever get a bigger bucket.”

Lucian understood without it needing to be explained further.

The ‘bucket’ in this example was his body; it was his vessel. A vessel constituted much more than just the physical. Because, as he said, a paladin's strength comes from not just their muscles, but their heart and will too.

Lucian also noted that he was using up less Holy Power to fill his body now.

The drain from his Pools of Holy Power was probably nearly half of what it was before, perhaps not quite to that point. But it was a noticeable amount that he couldn’t ignore.

Lucian stood up, summoning his sword from his system, and he swung it around a few times. It was hard to say how much stronger he was now. It wasn’t like he could point at a percentage easily in an aspect like this.

But, while it wasn’t as absurd as how much less Holy Power it used to reinforce his body now, he could notice the improvement.

Not miniscule, but not overtly large either.

He swung several times, going through the same practiced movements that he had been practicing for a while ago.

“I’ve been thinking about it, and there are some things I will need. You told me about the town I will be going to, farmers and merchants.” Rafe didn’t interrupt Lucian’s desire to move around, as it aligned with his own preferences as well. “We’re going to need a lot of meat. Lots of protein for recruits. Can’t be eating every cow and chicken the locals raise there.”

“I’ve been eating more since learning.” Lucian acknowledged. 

Rafe nodded. It's natural. A stronger body needs more food, just the way things are. And I’m going to need some proper workers to build up a few things, stuff I had back in my training days. I'm not an architect or learned in those ways, so I can’t guarantee I know what I’m doing there.”

“I’ll make it happen after you get settled.” Lucian could practically see the money slipping out of his hands, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. Thankfully, there was a bit he was able to acquire that the wannabe mafia boss had stored away.

It wasn’t a substantial amount, but it at least alleviated some of the hemorrhaging for now.

“Books. Going to need some books too.” Rafe rubbed his chin. “Don’t know how things work here, but a Paladin is a learned man. I got it in my noggin that reading and writing are normal here, but that’s not enough. A paladin isn’t just a weapon to point at demons; it is a symbol. And since there’s no one else but me, I have to uphold that too. I don’t expect them to act like nobles, but I expect them too to hold themselves to the standard I set.”

“What standard are you talking about?” Lucian asked for clarification, even if his swings didn’t stop.

“Ah, it may sound silly, but simple things. Learning the right posture when presenting yourself. Learning how to speak to children to not be intimidating. Holding your tongue when you shouldn’t speak. Keeping your composure even if someone is mocking you to your face. Not holding lust in your eyes if you see a beautiful woman. A Paladin should be a beacon, a reassuring tree that keeps you warm from the rain."

Lucian listened intently even if it looked like he wasn’t focused on it. He was multitasking as he noticed how his body was moving faster, how his sword felt lighter, and just the tiniest bits of improvement that came along after fixing simple things.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Lucian would have to look into that sort of thing, but he had some initial guesses on what would help.

“And lastly," Rafe hummed. “If I’m to make your new Paladin Order from scratch, I want uniforms.”

“Uniforms?”

Rafe grinned. “I’ll draw it up later; I’m a pretty good artist.” He puffed up his chest. “Do you know how many maidens I convinced to undress in front of me so I could draw them?”

Lucian snorted again. “More than one, I would suspect.”

“Aye!” His eyes sparkled. “Now, get back to swinging. The tavern keep said this room was soundproof; we’re going to test it. Get a feel for your strength, then we’ll get to the part where I hit you with my hammer.”

Lucian signed.

He would have to thank the Bar Owner again, not just for the previous help in tracking down his target, but also for putting them up for a few days.

And hopefully he wouldn’t have to awkwardly explain that they destroyed his reinforced basement.

@***@

In the Vatican, a large cathedral was empty but a handful of exorcists quietly bowed at the hips as a cardinal walked past.

Not many knew that this was the headquarters for the Ordo Custodum Fidei. One of the largest exorcist organizations beneath the church's banner.

The Church didn’t simply have one group of exorcists. With all the power plays, the different ideologies, and the different factions within its halls, it was only a matter of course that there were just as many organizations that trained and sent out exorcists.

The visiting cardinal was from another, equally large organization. In most circumstances, they were usually at odds, having different goals that often clashed.

"Hostile" wasn't the right word. Competitive it was. They had spent centuries competing for influence, funding, relics, and prestige beneath the same banner.

Ordine dei Difensori della Santa Fede.

The Order of the Defenders of the Sacred Faith.

The leader of the organization—Cardinal Augustin Moreau—nodded to the exorcists present as he walked past them.

Even if they weren’t under his banner, someone at his station had to uphold his prestige and offered the politeness expected of his position.

He had his own entourage with him, a handful of exorcists that he had hand-raised since their inception into the church's doctrine.

There wasn’t a need for words as the Cardinal was continuously led through the corridors of the large cathedral until they entered a back room and one of the standing exorcists pressed on a loose stone.

A statue of David trembled and slowly pulled out of the wall by some unseen mechanism as a passage was revealed.

The Exorcist bowed his head and gestured forward as the Cardinal entered once more.

It opened up to a large room with dozens, if not hundreds, of Exorcists going about their normal duties.

They all noticed the cardinal appear and all took more respectful positions as they all recognized and deferred to him.

The Cardinal raised his hand, a silent acknowledgment in return and a wordless indication to go back to what they were doing.

He already knew where to go; this wasn't his first time here.

He moved towards the office of his peer.

“Cardinal Matteo Bellandi," Cardinal Augustin Moreau greeted.

“Cardinal Augstin Moreau.” Cardinal Bellandi gestured for him to come in and take a seat as the other shut the door behind him, the only two of them now present.

“Let’s dispense with the pleasantries.” 

“Very well.” Cardinal Bellandi leaned back. “Augustin, what did you want to talk about?”

“You know very well what I want to talk about, Matteo.” He threw a handful of papers onto the other man’s desk. “The report you sent me.”

Matteo didn’t need to look at the papers as he leaned forward, putting his elbows on his desk as he steadied himself. “I see you’ve read them then.”

“How long are we going to allow this…upstart to steal authority from under our noses?” Augustin demanded, and seeing that Matteo didn’t answer, he continued. “This Lucian Graves appears out of nowhere, and he has the grace of both his holiness and above!”

“Calm yourself, Cardinal. We are men of repute; we should not lose our composure over such insignificant issues.”

“Insignificant!?” Augustin scowled. “He is now our peer. Some boy not even thirty! How long did we slave away? How many boots did we have to lick? How much money did we have to send up the latter to earn our spots after decades of careful and meticulous service to the Church?”

“I agree, we have spent far too much to reach our position for an unknown man to climb to our position without earning it.” Matteo acquiesced.

Augustin sighed and sat properly in his seat. “Matteo, I know we’ve had our differences, but we can’t let this stand. You’re the one who sent me these reports first, so you must share the same sentiments as me. Please, at least share your thoughts with me so I know I’m not alone here.”

“Cardinal Lucian Graves," Matteo tapped his desk. “I assume you’ve run the same background checks on him that I have, and I assume you also know that he appeared from nowhere. No traceable origin, he simply appeared one day under the assumed identity that we have. No birth certificate, no place of origin, no history that was traceable.”

Augustin nodded. “That’s right.”

“I was ignorable before. As infuriating as it was, it was one man. One man with no support, no resources, no…legitimacy. We would have ground him down and spread his ashes without so much as lifting a finger. But…” His eyes landed on the stack of papers he slammed down moments ago.

“One mission completion was a flag into the ground," Matteo spoke. “Now….” His hand ran across the papers. “We have fourteen assignments credited to this…burial agency. Some are small, but some of them were not something a few fools could have handled.”

Their organization has hundreds, thousands of exorcists under their purview. A mere fourteen completed missions was nothing. 

However, when you take into account the inception date of their organization and their manpower…a different story started to unfold.

“Lucian Graves, Griselda Quarta, Alexander Anderson, Asia Argento," Augustin read off a paper. Those are their registered members. I need not speak of the first two, but the latter two are the problems. We do not know who this Alexander Anderson is. However, a majority of the missions completed are attributed to his name. Lastly, the Witch. It was already a slap in our faces that he pulled her back into the Church after we voted to excommunicate her, but now he has her prancing around and healing within our Holy Walls!?”

Matteo frowned as he heard his companion raise his voice in irritation. “It appears that she is now under the protection of Father Lorio. He sent a message before you arrived.”

Augustin shivered slightly. “What was the message?”

“Father Lorio requests that we keep our…hands to ourselves, and if he sees our people creeping around his flock, he will file a formal complaint with his Holiness.”

“Arrogant!” Augustin slammed his fist on the desk. “How dare he!? A Mere Priest! He’s now protecting the Witch!?”

“He has connections," Matteo said calmly. “The highest of connections.”

Augustin could only swallow his anger because he also knew this.

What were you supposed to do to a man who had saved the Pope’s life in his earlier years? It was rumored that they were exorcists together some time ago, and Father Lucio was almost like an elder brother figure to His Holiness.

“Our original methods won’t work now.” Matteo reluctantly acknowledged. “We planned on using Cardinal Graves' lack of results as a means to suppress and eventually destroy his nascent organization. However, that will now be impossible. With such results, with the meager manpower and resources they possess, they show only promise.”

Augustin grunted.

He couldn’t argue with that fact even if he hated it.

“We must stop any expansion.”

Matteo nodded. “I have already taken measures. All of Sister Griselda’s acquaintances and relations are on…long-term assignments away from the Vatican for now.”

“I’ve also intentionally drained the Church’s budget as much as I could. Using my connections, I made sure to have all new proposals and requests for money be accepted. There will be a thousand new churches constructed across Central Europe. There will be over a hundred charities receiving financial assistance. Requests for relief and support in various conflict-consumed countries will be announced soon. And I made sure the existing organizations that have been operating for years have had their budgets and requests approved.” Cardinal Augustin announced. “By my calculations, our budget for the year should be spent by the end of the month, and further requests will need to wait until next year. It should buy us some time.”

That wasn’t to say the Church was out of money, just that its normal yearly budget would be spent and they wouldn't casually dip into their emergency funds or their savings without a very good reason.

An organization the size of the Church operates rather strictly within the confines of a budget to stay afloat for centuries.

“What about requests for equipment?” Augustin added. “That is not my specialty.”

“The good Cardinal already gave us an answer.” Matteo smiled calmly. “Did you read the report that Sister Griselda sent the other day? The one that coincides with her daughter’s missions as they overlap?”

Cardinal Augustin nodded. “I have questions. The young exorcists present reported the same thing. What is this ‘Ash Lock’ that Sister Griselda employed? They spoke of it as a weapon, but they did not explain it clearly.”

“Sister Griselda refused to share the specifics, simply calling it a holy weapon. She cited the ancient traditions that each organization is allowed to keep certain secret techniques or devices to themselves.” The cardinal leaned back in his chair once more. “Precedent has been established. If Cardinal Graves values organizational independence so highly, it would be discourteous for us to impose upon it.”

Augustin hummed. “I do not like it. We have both read the reports from the children; the words they use have left me a bad taste in my mouth. The musings of children or exaggerated imaginations. But they both repeated the same word: "What does a conceptual weapon mean?”

Obviously, the words used weren’t beyond their understanding; it was just meant in the context spoken of.

Cardinal Augustin continued. “The fact that they have their own secrets worth protecting is questionable, Matteo. They are a newborn organization; why do they have secrets?”

Matteo couldn’t outright answer that.

He was also aware that it was an anomaly. Was it them just trying to appear more competent than they were? Part of him wanted to dismiss it, but he couldn’t afford to dismiss it out of hand.

Because on the opposite side, while they disdained the new Cardinal, they couldn’t ignore him either.

A man who had both the support of the archangel Gabriel and the pope.

They were not fools that couldn’t see past their own arrogance.

They were very clear, as intelligent men who have played this game for a very long time. With all the pieces together, even if they couldn’t correctly place them to form the whole picture, they could clearly see that Lucian Graves was hiding something.

“Sister Griselda has become less cooperative. It’s clear she is now siding with the new Cardinal.” Augustin stated.

“Yes, that has been made clear.”

“Should we remove her and send someone else?”

“We have no valid reasoning.” Matteo shook his head. “Let her keep her spot and keep pretending that we trust her words. Perhaps if one out of every two words she speaks is truthful, we may still benefit from it.”

“Perhaps we can make use of her daughter?” Augustin questioned.

Matteo’s expression twisted and he frowned. “Watch your words. Xenovia Quarta is still one of my exorcists, and I will not use a child as a…hostage to bind Sister Griselda to my bidding.”

Augustin held his hands up as if to surrender under his gaze, not wanting to incite an argument. “We must track the movements of all of their members. We were caught off guard; we cannot remain ignorant.”

“Then let us cooperate to remove this upstart and return to our normal status.” Matteo held his hand out, and Augustin shook it. 

“Our rightful status.”

Matteo grunted. “Our rightful status.”

@***@

A/N

Lucian is getting a quick and dirty rundown of proper Paladin training before Rafe heads off to his new job. Everyone else is moving in the background, people doing jobs and the church getting updated on things.

Most of what happened in Romania wasn’t fully reported, so they didn’t hear much beyond ‘Vampires attacked and we dealt with them.' But they’re not going to sit still now that they see their original plan of attacking the Burial Agency’s competency isn’t going to work.

I also didn’t want to make them mustache-twirling evil either. They aren’t going to be sending out assassins or dropping bombs in mailboxes. They are weaponizing the institution to push out a newcomer who’s trying to squeeze in and take a bite of their portion of the pie.